#the blue sweater is my kryptonite

[jmdbjk]

So much Jimin...

Elle Korea.

This:

Q: Like the lyrics of 'Letter', which was a hidden track, what you always want to say is often the most obvious. Is there anything you want to say at this moment?

A: wait for me. I will become a ‘good’ singer.

Q: Do you have any habits when recording?

A: well. Recording barefoot (laughter)?

[allzelemonz]

Wrong Color: Bruce Wayne X Clark Kent

Summertime Prompt: Day 5, "Doppelgangers/Evil Twins" Pairing Type: M/M Rating: E/Sex, violence, dead dove Warnings: Doppelgangers, rape/noncon, dead dove, painful sex, bloody sex, alien anatomy, anal sex, mention of character death, mention of necrophilia, mention of breeding, Background Relationships: Dick Grayson/Superboys, Jason Todd/Bizzaro, Tim Drake/Conner Kent, Damian Wayne/Jon Kent Summary: A peaceful night in Gotham is interrupted by imposters from another Earth. Each is strikingly similar to their Super counterparts, but everything is the wrong color. The Bats are attacked by evil and twisted versions of their partners with no mercy or remorse.

It’s a quiet night in Gotham for once. The patrols are handled by Stephanie, Cass, and Duke. Barbara is on coms from her couch, favoring it over the usual Oracle set up for lax patrols like this. Bruce is kind of relaxed for once. Alfred convinced him to get the boys together for a movie and aside from the occasional bickering, it’s going well. Jason’s fallen asleep, his head tilted back over the sofa and soft snores escaping him. Dick is stretched out over a couch, pillows and blankets cuddled to his chest like he’s little Robin again. Tim is clutching a cup of coffee with his legs kicked over the arm of his chair. Damian is laid out on a floor pallet as he shines a batarang and listens to the movie passively. And Bruce, he couldn't be more content. Maybe a night off to hang out with his kids every couple of weeks isn’t such a bad idea.

Then there’s something on his chest, that’s what he notices first. The heavy pressure like a brick hitting him square on. Then it’s the wind as it surrounds him and makes him shiver. In a blink, the den is gone and he’s face to face with Clark. They’re outside, it’s cold without a sweater, and Clark’s eyes aren’t blue.

“Clark?” Bruce says, breathy from being shoved and flown away. His hand reaches up to touch Clark’s face, but he’s stopped by a vice grip that would break his wrist if not for the watch on it taking most of the pressure. He winces. “Baby, what’s going on?”

Clark’s eyes flick over Bruce’s body and they are very much not right. Clark’s eyes are a perfect blue, a blue Bruce made sure to have his ties made in. Bruce knows his partner’s eyes like he knows the streets of Gotham or the compartments of his utility belt, these are not Clark’s eyes. They’re gray. Gray and harsh, wholly not a farm boy’s.

“Baby?” Clark mutters, smirking. “How did a subpar man like you get yourself into the bed of a Kryptonian?”

Bruce knows he has Kryptonite fixed under his watch. Dick called him paranoid for it, but when he started dating Clark he knew he didn’t want to take any chances. He trusts Clark, he loves Clark, but things happen. Things like this.

“Who are you?” Bruce asks evenly, his mind figuring a way to get the lead compartment open.

Clark clicks his tongue, his eyes now meeting Bruce’s. “Kal-El, of course. A much better version of your pathetic Clark.”

“What makes you better?”

The imposter has lines when he smiles where Clark would have dimples. “My planet lives.”

“You’re from another Earth.”

“Smart little thing, aren’t you?” He chuckles. “I can see why he finds you entertaining.”

“Father.”

The men look over to find a young man that looks quite like Jon, but Bruce knows it’s not. In the boy’s hand is Damina’s jacket collar, Damian on his knees and unconscious. For one, if Jon did ever hurt Damian he would be cradling him and holding back tears. And, again, the most obvious thing is the eyes. Jon, bright and happy all throughout his little years with dazzling blue eyes just like his fathers that would rival Ace’s pouting talents. This boy has those lifeless gray eyes.

“What?” Clark snaps, finally releasing Bruce’s wrist.

Bruce steps back, not reaching for the Kryptonite right away. It would be expected and he doesn’t have nearly enough to subdue two Kryptonians. He needs to wait for Jon to leave, take care of Clark, and slip away to the cave for his larger stash.

“We’ve found the information you requested.”

“Go on.” Clark crosses his arms and Bruce finds it much less endearing than when his Clark does it.

Jon tosses Damian to the ground and it makes Bruce wince, every inch of his instincts wanting to go to his son and make sure he’s okay. But he stays still, watching his opponents carefully and letting the Batman part of his brain work.

“Our counterparts seem to be in relationships with each member of this human family respectfully.” Jon gestured to the unconscious Damian. “I apparently with this pathetic child, Kon with scrawny one, B with the meathead, and you with… that.” He gestures vaguely to Bruce.

Clark tilts his head. “They have an additional, I saw.”

Jon rolls his eyes. “Apparently Richard Grayson still breathes here.”

“Interesting.” Clark smiles. “Why don’t you boys let out some steam? These inferiors must be able to handle our counterparts, so they should have no problem accommodating us.”

Jon smiles in a way that would make the Joker shiver and Bruce, for the first time, has a flicker of fear from the boy. “Thank you, father.”

Clark nods, waving him off. “Ah, and make sure to use Grayson. He was good on our Earth, I imagine he’s just as good here.”

With a sickly grin, Jon grips Damian’s collar and flies off. Bruce watches Clark carefully, waiting for the signs of beginning superspeed as he slowly unlocks the compartment in his watch. As Clark turns, Bruce holds up the Kryptonite.

“Oh, baby.” Clark mocks. “Wrong color.”

Bruce can hardly blink before Clark is on him. No, not just on him, Clark is in him. In a heartbeat, the imposter has Bruce on the ground with his clothes ripped from his body and his substantial Kryptonian dick shoved so deep into Bruce that it pulses against his heart. Of course Bruce has taken Clark fully before, he’s felt the massive length  stretched open his ass and reaching all the way to his throat. But Clark always prepares him, always makes sure Bruce has taken the durability medicine just in case, always fingers him open and kisses him a million times with adorably sweet words and those beautiful eyes. Having his entire digestive system fucked and fixed tightly around Clark’s dick has always been pleasurable, never like this.

He’s never hurt Bruce.

“I can see why he likes you.” The false Clark mutters in Bruce’s ear. “You take it like a good bitch.”

Bruce tries to think about the last time he heard Clark use that word. Never. Clark has never said that word as far as Bruce knows.

“I just want to make sure you know.” Clark mutters, his lips brushing against Bruce’s ear. “My boys are doing the same thing to your boys.”

Bruce winces, a growl ripping through his throat despite himself. Again, he knows it’s not new. He knows his boys are active with their respective partners, hell he just had the talk with Damian. But he also knows that the Kents are good kids, even Bizzaro is a gentle giant. He knows his boys are treated right. But with these Kents, Bruce wants to claw his way out of this and save them.

Clark starts to move then. His hips piston right away, fully splitting Bruce in half as he rocks in and out. “You know, Richard Grayson is dead on my Earth.” Clark grips Bruce’s hips and Bruce lets his head drop to the ground. “Do you want to know how he died?”

If Bruce was an idiot, he’d answer. But he knows better. He’s been taunted before, he knows that playing any additional part of this sick fantasy is the worst thing to do. Instead he just tries to focus on anything but the feeling of that hard steel dick plunging into his body and the blood it draws out.

“See…” Clark groans, changing his angle and successfully fucking up into Bruce’s throat. “My son thought he was pretty. And I thought he was pretty. It didn’t take much time until the whole family wanted to fuck that perfect ass of his. Poor little bird’s heart gave out.” He snickers. “We still fucked him of course.”

Bruce has never felt more rage than he has in this moment, but the mix of choking on the giant dick in his throat and his own blood takes all of his focus. His intestines are stretched out, his organs rearranged, normally a pleasant feeling with Clark and the medication to help, but right now Bruce didn’t even feel this much pain when Bane broke his back.

Clark’s lips press to his neck, his thrusts becoming shallow and fast. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure my seed stays in you for days, Bruce.” He licks a stripe up to his ear. “You know, on my Earth Kryptonians conquered everything. We fuck as we please and men like you get bitched early on. I could take you back, make you mine and make you give me a million kids.”

“Fuck… you…” Bruce chokes out, his heart starting to skip in an alarming way.

Clark chuckles in his ear. “Maybe if you get too loose, but just for a little break.”

Bruce squeezes his eyes shut, feeling his body starting to give out. He hopes the boys don’t feel this bad, maybe they die quicker, maybe they escaped. Then, in a split second, Bruce feels empty. He can breathe again and everything hurts so intensely. He can’t get his senses to work, his eyes are blurry and his ears pound so loudly it’s like he’s back in the Penguin’s overpopulated zoo.

“Bruce?” Clark, his mind supplies. Soft and worried and the cutest amount of south-midwest Kansas twang. Clark’s hands are gentle as he picks Bruce off the ground, cradling his body and kissing his head. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I’m so, so sorry.”

Bruce blinks his eyes open and steady enough to see that blue. That perfect blue looking down at him with tears everywhere. He wants to say something, but Clark’s name dies in his throat.

“Shh, it’s okay.” Clark soothes through his tears. “Zatanna’s coming, she’ll heal you, you’re gonna be okay.”

Bruce takes ragged breaths, a little smile coming onto his face. He knows Clark’s saying that to convince himself more than Bruce. He also knows that if anyone can fix this, it’s Zatanna. Anything is better than the Lazarus Pit.

Clark holds Bruce as he slips into sleep just before Zatanna arrives. With a teary-eyed but focused Clark, she heals Bruce first. Her incantations put halos over him and Clark almost sobs as he watches with his x-ray vision as Bruce’s intestines realign. Diana arrives purely to hold his hand, the only one he might not crush with his emotions like this. She tells him that the doppelgangers have been subdued and that other healers are working with Bruce’s boys. When Zatanna leaves the three of them just sit there for a while, Bruce asleep but healthy and Clark and Diana simply watching him.

“I almost lost him.” Clark mutters after a while, his hand brushing over Bruce’s hair. “I didn’t get here soon enough.”

“They caught us by surprise, ambushed the strongest first.” Diana says softly.

“Why him?” Clark sobs. “What makes them the strongest?”

Diana presses her lips into a line, remembering why Bruce is the one she would consider the most dangerous. “Bruce is Bruce.” She looks down at her friend. “Not only has he trained his children to be vigilant, he is one of the most prepared people I have ever seen. He could take the world if he had the motivation and time.”

Clark smiles softly. “I love him.”

“I know.” Diana says. “I love him too, you’re my dearest friends… I’ll ensure the men that attacked our family see justice.”

Clark sighs. “How… how could I ever be that man?”

“You’re not. That isn’t a man, it’s a monster.” Diana says firmly. She rests a hand over Clark’s on Bruce’s chest and dips her head to meet his eyes. “You should take him to his room. Check on the boys.”

Clark nods softly, his voice breaking. “Okay.”

Diana flies off to join the Green Lanterns who guard the doppelgangers and Clark, as gentle as he ever has been, carries Bruce into the manor. He passes Raven, still healing Dick as he lays sprawled on the floor in a pool of blood. Then Jason who is cuddled into Bizzaro’s chest like his life depends on staying there. Then Tim, passed out in his room down the hall with Conner pacing at his bedside. And finally Damian, held by Jon in the corner of the study where no one but Clark’s powered eyes could see.

Clark tries to put on a brave face for the trusted members of the League that fill the halls. Only the Kents and the inner council know what really happened, most have just been told it was just an attack. In Bruce’s room, Clark lays his partner down as carefully as he would a baby bat. When he stands, straightening his back and looking down at Bruce’s perfect face, he sobs again. He wants to make everything okay, he wants to go back and fix it. He has half a mind to find Barry and make him do just that, but he knows messing with time would only make things worse. So he settles for sitting beside Bruce’s bed and watching every last detail of his face as he sleeps.

[nerdyerror]

Jason: Why are we all here?

Helena: *gaSP* Have you all forgotten????

Dick: forgotten what??

Pearl, calmly: Today is Papa’s birthday.

Dick, Jason, Tim, Stephanie, Harper, Cullen, Duke, Kate, Clark, Oliver, Dinah, Bette, and Damian: *PANIC*

People who didn’t forget (and the gifts they gave)

Alfred Pennyworth, a blue bowtie and a letter

Pearl Wayne, a new set of batarangs

Talia Al Ghul, Athanasia Wayne (yes I know its actually al ghul but her gift was both the child and the last name)

Edward “The Riddler” Nygma, A book of riddles

Harvey “Two Face” Dent, exactly seventeen quarters

Thomas Prince, a shield

Bartholomew Allen, justice league cuff links

Iris West-Allen, an apology for Barry giving him Justice League cuff links again, and a black tie.

Athanasia Wayne, green kryptonite

Helena Wayne, crimson stilettos

Alina Shelly-Wayne, a drawing of her and him, eating a birthday cake

Selina Kyle, a cat (unclear if this was for his birthday or not, however there was a birthday card enclosed.)

Wallace West, a letter begging him not to kill him for pegging his son (unclear if this was related to his birthday)

Agatha Wayne, stuffed bear holding a heart, (the heart said happy birthday to my favorite nephew, this was clearly hand embroidered by Agatha.)

Diana Prince, dog tags (military) with the words “Belongs to Diana” on the first one, “and to Clark” on the second, (same metal as his wedding ring. Clark was unaware of the gift.)

Harleen Quinzel, hammer that has a spring trap punching glove.

Pamela “Poison Ivy” Isley, crimson rose with extra sharp thorns.

Jack “The Joker” Napier, Card deck except all the suits have different joker faces instead of the Spade, Heart, Diamond, and Club. (Was given on patrol, on april 1st because “batsy mentioned his birthday was in april”)

Rao El and Aria Ahn, “Blood Sweet Bread,” basically kryptonian cake, and some kryptonic plate armor.

Barbara Gordon, shirt that says “My emotional daughter-sister-niece can kick your ass!”

Cassandra Cain-Wayne, matching shirts that say, “My daughter is cooler than yours.” And “My Dad can kick your ass (he taught me how too).”

Jonathan “Scarecrow” Crane, card reminding him to come back in for another session, with a scrawled out happy birthday you get more insane everyday.

Helena Bertinelli, a card saying, “roses are red, violet aren’t blue, our relationship is weird, but I love you!”

Ra’s Al Ghul, stabbery

UPDATE!!! Ace the Bathound, unconditional love and cuddles

Titus, cuddles and unconditional love

Alfred the Cat, 23 dead mice

Batcow, an apple (??????)

Jerry, a dead Canadian goose

Leonard Corvus the Crow, Maus (living)

Francine Olive the Dove, Olive sapling (?)

Jarro, a hat, knitted with great difficulty

UPDATE PART TWO ELECTRIC BOOGALOO (updated bits previous to this are in red)

Claire Clover, letter saying “Sorry I tried to kill you, Happy Birthday, Claire Clover!”

Martha “Ma” Kent, Hand knit sweater with a bat on it.

Jonathan “Pa” Kent, whisky with a letter that said, “happy birthday, Pa Kent”

[falcqns]

Hey, can I request one probably smut, where I'm working on Henry's makeup for Geralt and my cleavage bothered him a bit because he became hard? 🤭🙈 Take care!

our little secret 

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader

Warnings: smut, bodily fluids, swearing, dirty talk 

A/N: I absolutely loved this request! I’m sorry it took so long to finish, I was so close a few days ago bUT TUMBLR DELETED IT AGH> hope you enjoy!

our little secret 

You were dabbing foundation on Henry’s pale skin when you noticed that he couldn't take his eyes off of you. Mainly, he couldn't take his eyes off of your breasts.                   

Were you wearing something a little more risky than normal? Yes. Usually, you wore a sweater to work, especially in the mornings. You did live in England after all, and you weren't dumb. 

But, did you also forget to do your laundry last night so the only acceptable item of clothing that you had to wear as a very low cut tank top with lace covering the top? ...Also yes.

As you moved around his head to continue to do his makeup, you just happened to glance in the direction of your phone, and just happened to see that Henry had a very definite bulge in his grey sweatpants.

You felt a blush begin to creep up your neck, but ignored it, and continued to work, attempting to ignore the bulge in his pants.

As you were preparing his wig, you got a call from Lauren, the show runner. There was quite a bad storm coming in, and filming was pushed back at least 3 hours. 

“Shit,” You said, as you hung up the phone, causing Henry to glance up from his own.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

You turned to look at him. “Filming has been pushed back a few hours,” 

He sighed and let his head fall back against the makeup chair, his Adam’s apple bobbing, which you chose to ignore as well.

“I’m just glad you didn’t put the wig on me yet,” He said, giving you a charming smile, which you returned, and began to clean up your materials.

He stood up, and tugged on his coat, before turning to you.

“Why don’t you come and chill with me in my trailer until filming resumes? I can’t imagine you'd want to stay in here all alone.” He suggested, and you saw no reason to say no.

“Sure,” You said, giving him a smile. “Thank you,” 

He smiled back. “No problem.”

You finished packing everything up, and headed out to Henry’s trailer. As soon as you entered, you were greeted by Kal, who wouldn't let you pass until he got some pets, which you more than gladly gave. 

You followed Henry and took a seat on his couch.

“What?” You said with a giggle, when you noticed that Henry was staring at you again.

Henry cleared his throat before he talked. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” He asked, his voice hoarse.

You giggled. “N-no,” 

He smiled, and lifted his arm to rest on the couch behind you. 

“Well, I think you are so incredibly beautiful, Y/N,” He whispered.

You felt the blush return 10 times more intense. “T-thank you, H-Henry,” 

“You’re welcome,” He took your smaller hand in his bigger one. “I-I’m sorry if that came off as creepy, I just-” He stuttered, running his thumb along the skin on your hand. “I can’t get you off my mind. I haven't been able to since you started working on set, but I’ve been too scared to ask you out, no matter how much I wanted to,” 

You scrunched your eyebrows, before placing your free hand on his thigh. 

“Why were you scared?” You whispered. He chuckled slightly, but explained himself.

“I don’t know. We just have quite a big age difference, and I didn't think you’d be into guys my age.” You giggled, and slid your hand up his clothed leg until you were just below where he needed you most.

“You’re the reason I took this job, Henry.” And with that, you were immediately pulled into Henry’s lap. He had a tight grip on your hips, and was pressing you down into his erection. You moaned out, and grabbed the back of his neck for stability, as you ground your hips on his.

“I know you saw how badly I wanted you,” He whispered into your ear huskily, which only spurred on your actions. “Please tell me you want this too,” You immediately nodded. “Gods, yes,” You whimpered out.

He tugged the bottom of your tank top out of your leggings, before running his hands underneath to feel your skin, hips still grinding together.

“I fuckin knew your skin was softer than heaven,” He moaned. His eyes fluttered down to your lips, and before you knew it, his lips were on yours.

He gripped your bum, and stood up to lay you on the bed. He climbed over your body, buried his head in your neck, and resumed the grinding of his hips against yours.

“Fuck,” You moaned out, as he trailed kisses down your neck.

He moaned, before sitting up. His hands slid up your tank top once more, and came to rest on your breasts. 

“As much as I love the way you look in this tank, I’d much rather see it on the floor,” He said, and you nodded. He lifted it up, and off of your body, tossing it on the floor.

He let out a low growl before at the sight of your light purple lacy bra. He looked at you with lust blown eyes before he buried his face in between them, kissing and licking over every inch of exposed skin. 

“These,” He moaned out breathily. “These are my fucking Kryptonite. Have been for months now,” 

You threw your head back and moaned loudly. 

You reached your hands out to run it over his chest that was still covered by a black t shirt. Henry, understanding what you wanted, all but ripped it off, tossing it on top of yours.

He trailed his hand from your collarbone, down the valley between your breasts. It came to rest on the top of your leggings. He took your left leg, and hooked it around his hip.

“Do you still want this?” He asked, looking you deeply in the eyes.

You nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, desperately.” 

He gave you a warm smile, and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips before continuing. He looped his fingers into your leggings and pulled them down your legs.

He threw his head back and moaned at the sight of your light purple cotton underwear.   

“Holy fuck,” He moaned out. You giggled at his reaction and reached your hand out to run your fingers through the curls atop his head. 

His fingers moved up from your thigh, and trailed them lightly over your clothed mound.

As he hooked his fingers into your underwear he made eye contact with you, once more.

“There are so many things I want to do to you, but I’m so desperate to be inside you that I might cum from just eating you out.” He said.

You arched your back and cried out. “Please stop teasing H-Henry,”

His eyes softened, and stood up, ridding himself of his grey sweatpants and blue boxer, before climbing back on the bed to join you. You reached out and wrapped your hand around his hard cock, and began to stroke slowly.

His head fell forward, and stared at you jerking him off slowly. His hand wrapped around your wrist, and stopped your actions.

“Another time,” He promised, before situating himself in between your legs. His hand lined himself up to your entrance, before making eye contact with you once more.

“You ready?” He whispered.

You nodded, and he grasped your smaller hand in his before slowly pushing inside you. You moaned at the stretched, and he slowed his actions.

“Are you okay?” He asked. You nodded.

“I’ve just never been this full, is all.” You said, and he lowered his head to yours, connecting your lips. 

He broke the kiss, and looked you in the eyes, your foreheads touching. 

“I’m gonna take care of you, make you feel so good.”

He slowly slid the rest of the way in, before dropping to his elbows which laid on either side of your head.

“Are you ready?” He breathed out, his lips brushing your ear.

“Y-Yes.” 

He nodded, and began to slide in and out of you, at an agonizingly slow pace. Your hips bucked up to meet his every time he bottomed out inside you. 

Your combined moans became louder each time as he gradually picked up speed, from slow and sensual thrusts, to harsh and rough thrusts.

He sat up on his knees, and gripped your hips, his eyes locked on where the two of you were connected. His eyes eventually drifted up to yours.

“I’ve been dreaming about being this deep inside you since the moment we met,” He growled out, squeezing your hips harder. 

“Fuck, Henry!” You cried out, both at his words, and at how good it felt to have him inside you after wanting it for so long. “I’ve wanted you inside me like this for Fucking years, Henry. Ever since I saw you in Mission Impossible,” You rasped out. 

His head fell back and he all but shouted a moan out, as his hips began to thrust into yours even harder.

“I almost bent you over the fucking makeup chair when I saw you wearing that fucking tank top this morning,” He murmured. “Especially leaning over me, pushing your heavenly tits into my face, fuck. I almost came in my pants at the sight of that,”

You felt your high approaching, and didn't even try and warn Henry about it, because you could sense that he was close as well. 

He had leaned back slightly, his hand gripping your waist while the other gripped your thigh, his hips snapping into yours at an insane speed, with nothing but moans falling from his lips.

His right hand came from where it rested atop your left thigh, and wrapped itself  around your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his.

“I wanna watch your pretty little face when you fall apart on my cock,” He grunted, and all you could do was moan in response.

His hips ground into yours two more times, before your orgasm pulsed through you, and you shouted his name. Your back arched, legs and arms tensed, and eyes squeezed shut.

“FUCK,” He shouted, before he stilled inside you, and his release filled you.  

A few moments later, he collapsed on top of you. He rolled off of you a few moments later, and pulled you so you were tucked into his side, your head on his chest.

“That, was amazing,” You said, and Henry chuckled at your reaction before pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. 

“Yeah, it was. I just hope no one heard us,” He muttered, his head drifting towards the window opposite his bed. “I want this to stay our little secret a little while longer, if you'd let me,” 

You sat up slightly to look at him. “What do you mean?”

he chuckled before reaching up to kiss you again. “If you think I’m letting you go after sex THAT good, you're insane, angel.”

[peterxwade24]

BWYD Shorts

Grandparents' Day

So this was born almost entirely out of my desire to write more about the Kents and their newest grandbaby. So, I decided Caline Bustier treats her students like they're in elementary school and has a "Grandparents' Day" event in which the children invite their grandparents and they just kinda hang out with each other.

Masterlist

Anyways, enjoy~

In the time between them being placed in Paris and the time they went back to Gotham for Spring Break, the Wayne children had been informed of Grandparents’ Day. They were of course familiar with the event, seeing as how they’d had it in Gotham (although none of them had ever brought anyone aside from Alfred) but they were confused since they were in the French equivalent of middle school and the event was exclusive to elementary school.

Marinette, having only ever brought in Alfred in junction with Damian, had decided to let the boys share Alfred this year (although they would also share whoever came for her) sent a series of emails. One of her emails was sent to Ma and Pa Kent while another was sent to Rolland Dupain and a third was sent to Gina Dupain. The three emails were nearly identical in content, although the tones differed, with Ma and Pa’s addressing them with familiar titles and Gina and Rolland’s only calling them Nonna and Nonno in respect. Marinette wasn’t hoping for much, she was only really hoping that she’d get emails back from her paternal grandparents.

---

The day of Grandparents’ Day dawned like any other, bright sun in the sky, too many animals on her floor, and her siblings fighting in the living room. Marinette, wanting to embody her Uncle Clark’s courage, dressed in a pair of black skinny jeans with a red and black flannel shirt under an oversized jean jacket with a pair of brown ankle boots paired with a brown belt with a Superman belt buckle. She accessorized with a delicate and roughly hewn Peridot gem, that shined like a hunk of Kryptonite in the light, linked with a delicately twisted silver chain and a pair of daisy ribbons tied into her hair.

She went to school with Damian and Colin, Damian dressed in a pair of dark wash jeans with a black turtleneck and black shoes while Colin wore a white tee with denim jeans and a pair of blue trainers, and the three almost siblings slunk into the desk just like they always did. They didn’t pay attention to their classmates or their classmates’ grandparents, only anxiously waiting for Alfred to walk into the classroom (so they all had at least one grandparent there).

Alfred did walk into the classroom, dressed in a pair of nice khaki slacks with a warm gray cable knit sweater (one of very few that hadn’t already been stolen by his grandchildren but he knew by the end of his visit his youngest granddaughter would end up stealing it before reallocating it to one of her siblings) and a pair of black shoes. He spotted his grandchildren and efficiently crossed the room to them.

The students, and their grandparents, watched the older man approach the three Waynes. The three gave a cheerful cry of “Grandpa Alfie!” as he approached. The four Waynes stood in the back while Mlle. Bustier stood in the front and smiled.

“Are all of our grand-” Mlle. Bustier was cut off by the classroom door opening again.

“Grandma! Grandpa!” Marinette vaulted over the back of her chair and ran to throw her arms around the two. “I wasn’t expecting y’all to show up, I just thought you’d video call.”

“Well sweetpea, there was no way we were leaving you and those two yahoos with only one grandparent between the three of ya.” Ma Kent smiled and squeezed the girl to her chest.

“Of course we came, little calf.” Pa noticed the teacher’s eyes on them and gently led the two girls back to the desk with the two boys.

---

Alfred, Ma, and Pa took the three kids out for ice cream after school, and Alfred noticed that sometime between the time they’d left the school and arrived at the ice cream cart Marinette had shed her jean jacket and was wearing Pa Kent’s purple cable knit sweater over her flannel and he knew. Marinette was getting more comfortable within the family and was branching out to include extended family and non-immediate family members in her stolen clothing rotation.

Taglist: @dast218 @amayakans @toodaloo-kangaroo @crazylittlemunchkin @marinettepotterandplagg @duckies16

Gina and Rolland were invited however they just didn't show up. Rolland had no real reason for not showing up, he lives and works really close to the school and Marinette told him where and when the event was. Gina also had no real reason, she just didn't feel like it (she also was told where and when the event was). But Ma and Pa Kent went, can we get a round of applause/acknowledgment for the two Kents (casually called Grandma and Grandpa by Marinette and Colin) in the comments?

[queerbutstillhere]

Hiya!! Wow u still doing amazing prompts? How about a soulmate AU for Jondami? Where Kyptonians feel a "click" once they meet their soulmate and that even if they date someone else they can feel as much love that the feel for their mate.

(Hi! Sorry it took this long! I hope you get to see this! And I hope it is good!)

When he was young, his dad explained it to him. Told him how they, as Kryptonian's would often have "soulmates". Said he wasn't sure if Jon would experience this, since he was only half kryptonian, but it was best to just be prepared.

He explained how there was this click. Why everything seemed off and disfunctional, how it felt like everything was just shifted to the left a bit. Why Jon felt odd, like the world was buzzing at such a low decible that he could just barely hear it. And he told Jon that this may stop one day, or he would just stop noticing it.

It was this way because of their soulmates. And once he met his soulmate, things would just click. Everything would be normal and right again. He would feel the shift. So he needed to pay attention if that happened, watch who he had been with. Clark explained that he could still fall in love with people other then his soulmate, Clark had done it so many times before he met Lois, but it would never quite be as perfect as it would be with his soulmate.

Jon took this very seriously, and from that day as a young child, to an eleven year old when he felt it, he paid great attention to all his interactions.

And then he met Robin.

And his world shifted back into focus.

His meeting with Robin hadn't been fantastic, they had tried to kill each other, multiple times. But Jon couldn't ignore the fact that the first time he touched Robin, he physically felt this snap inside him. A Click. In fact it startled him so much that Robin got the upperhand and would have seriously hurt Jon, had Bruce not stepped in right at that moment.

Jon had been shaken up for days after, and refused to tell his parents why. So they chose to believe Robin had done something to their precious child. And they were furious. But he needed to tell someone, and when his older (yet younger?) brother popped in for his monthly visit, he managed to drag Kon outside.

"Hey, kiddo, what's wrong? You're looking a little green. Been exposed to any kryptonite recently?"

Jon shook his head. He did feel a little sick. They were sat on the roof of the barn, staring out over the cow pastures.

"Jon?" Conner asked, joking tone dropped, now just concerned. "Are you okay? What's wrong? Do you need to go to a doctor? I can take you to dad if you don't want Clark and Lois to know?"

"No! I'm not... I'm not sick. And why is Lex a better option then Dad?!"

"He does care what I do? Also I thought you liked Lex."

Jon didn't respond, wrapping his arms around his knees.

"Kon, did dad explain the soulmates thing to you?"

"Sure did. Why- oh my God, did you? Who is it?! Did you tell them?!"

"Shh!" Jon hissed, glaring at his brother.

Kon immediately sobered, reaching out to wrap an arm around Jon.

"Who is it, Jon? What's the matter?"

"It's... Robin."

Conner blinked at him a few times in confusion.

"The... The demon spawn? Tim's little brother?"

Jon nodded a couple times, pushing his face into his knees.

"... Wow. Okay. That's. Yikes. Didn't he try to kill you?"

Another nod.

Kon gently rubbed his back. "Well. It's okay, Jon. You don't... You're only eleven, you don't have to do anything about it. Maybe- maybe it's best not to tell anyone else? Clark and Lois might-" Kon cut off with a small sigh.

Jon just groaned and pressed his face harder against his legs.

"It's okay," was Kon's comforting mantra as he hugged his small brother for a moment.

And it was.

In the end, Jon practically forgot about it. He grew up, was Damian's partner, became his best friend, hung out with him all through highschool. He almost forgot about the soulmate thing. Except sometimes he'd notice how much sharper his world was when he was with Damian, or how much happier he was around him.

But he fell in love in highschool, had his heart dramatically broken when his girlfriend cheated on him, even spent a whole evening bemoaning his sad life to Damian as they ate vegan ice cream on the roof of the barn, wrapped in fluffy blankets.

He thought he maybe fell for Damian, his senior year of highschool, but Damian was off, traveling abroad, so it was easy to forget, and then he spent his summer after working and barely saw him. And then Jon was off to college, barely saw any of his friends, let alone his best friend who lived in another country at this point, stopped superheroing, just focused solely on college.

It wasn't until his senior year of college that he realized his world had fallen back into disarray, that things were off again.

It wasn't until senior year that he remembered Damian was his soulmate.

He sent Damian a simple text.

-Hey, next time you're in the states, we should hang out. I know it's been a while, but I'd love to catch up!

Two days later, he got a response.

~Hello! Sorry for not responding sooner. I am currently in Gotham, actually, would you like to meet up this weekend?

Well that was easier than anticipated.

-Yeah! Sure, I can come down there if you want? Does Sunday work?

~Yes. You can come for lunch if you wish. It shall be at noon.

-I'll be there :)

So Sunday Jon showered and flew to Gotham, wearing fairly nice clothes. As nice as it got for a college student with an unpaid internship. Okay so it was pretty nice clothes BECAUSE of his internship. He didn't fly much these days, but it wasn't like he forgot how to. He just headed to Gotham and plopped himself on the front step of the manor, taking a moment to sort himself, straighten out the wildly tangled hair, smooth down his burgandy sweater and fix the cuffs of the button down he had on underneath it. And then he rang the doorbell.

It was only a brief wait, and then the door swung open to reveal one of many black haired blue eyed brothers of Damian's. Jon's memory immediately kicked in and reminded him the buff one with the white streak was Jason.

"Hi, Jason!" He said with a grin.

Jason, who had scruff and bags under his eyes and smelled like cigarettes, grunted.

"Welcome back, kid. It's been a while since you've been around."

Jon smiled and shrugged. "Well, I've been busy with school and all that."

Jason shrugged in return and opened the door, letting Jon in

"Do I still need to take my shoes off?" Jon asked, pointing at the pile by the door.

Jason looked at it, then at Jon. "To save the old man's back, we'll say yes. I don't even know anymore."

Jon raised an eyebrow and took off his dress shoes, following Jason further into the house.

"I think Damian's in the kitchen with Alfie."

"Okay. Thanks Jason!"

"Uh-huh."

Jon headed into the kitchen and did indeed find Damian, sleeves rolled up to his elbows as he helped Alfred cook. He looked up as he heard the door open, and his eyes widened slightly. Jon felt the same thing happen to him. Because man had Damian grown up. Of course Jon had seen his social media and seen this, but it was completely different to see him in real life, just a few feet away. He was wearing a green sweater, and black slacks, black dress socks on his feet. His olive skin was dark, darker then Damian had ever been while living in Gotham. His black hair was short on the sides and back, and still the same long, fluffy top.

"Jonathan, hello!" Alfred said cheerfully, the elderly man smiled at him.

"Hey, Alfred."

Damian seemed to snap out of his daze, glancing down at the food he was stirring then back up to Jon.

"Hello," he said with a smile. He set down his spoon and washed his hands quickly.

"Hi."

Damian stepped closer. "Has it been too long to get a hug?"

Jon chuckled and stepped into him, wrapping his arms around Damian and hugging him tightly. Damian's arms slipped around his waist and returned it, his chin on Jon's shoulder.

And there it was again. The click. The settling of his universe. The reminder that things were okay and good and right.

"It's good to see you," Damian murmured gently, his eyes closed.

Jon hummed gently. "Yeah. It's been a while."

He didn't want to let go. He felt safe hugging Damian. He felt warm and happy.

Damian started to pull back so he let go and watched Damian head back and return to stirring his food.

"So watcha cooking?"

"Sauteing asparagus, lunch is almost ready. Grandfather, could you go get the others and then get them seated in the dining room?"

"Sure, my boy," Alfred said with a smile and then headed out, walking a little slower then Jon last remembered.

Damian watched him leave, eyes full of concern. Jon was too busy reeling in the fact that his ears weren't buzzing anymore and that things didn't feel slightly blurry.

"He's not moving as good as he used too," Damian commented softly, and then shook his head a bit.

"Anyway. How are you? How is college?" Damian asked, smiling.

"College is good. Was good. I'm almost done now. I've got an internship at an architectural firm."

"Oh. Nice. You were going for interior design, right? Or was it architecture?"

"Architecture."

"That makes sense...."

Jon chuckled, looking around the kitchen which was still the same.

"So you finally gave up on the glasses?"

"What? Oh yeah. I don't do a lot of superboy stuff anymore so no one really recognized me as him... I plan to change my uniform and add a mask here soon though."

"That's smart."

"Do you, um? Do you still do vigilante stuff?"

"Oh, in Europe? Some, but you'd be surprised at the lack of supervillains over there. But yes, I do some over there."

Jon nodded. "That makes sense."

"Can you grab that pan for me?" Damian pointed at a casserole dish.

"Sure!"

Jon grabbed it and followed him out to the dining room. The rest of the family was there, getting seated, fussing over Alfred. Jon ended up following Damian back into the kitchen and helped him carry out a few more dishes that all looked expertly cooked and foreign. And then they sat down and ate. Dinner was great, the Wayne family had fun catching up with Jon. And then after, Jon and Damian went for a walk around the Manor, enjoying the nice spring weather.

Jon knew he needed to tell Damian but he didn't know how. They just walked and lightly chatted and caught up. Finally they reached the gardens and Jon reached out grabbed Damian's hand, pulling him to sit on a bench.

"I need to tell you something."

"Okay? What's wrong?" Damian asked, concern filling his face.

Damian showed emotions so much more freely know. Jon had known him for over 10 years now, so this was kinda surprising.

"There's this. . . " He sighed.

Then he stood and started pacing.

"Kryptonian's have this thing. . . They have soulmates," he started explaining, not looking at Damian. "We can feel when we meet our soulmates, it's like this click when we first touch them and-"

"Oh," Damian said. "Interesting. Is there any changes after?"

"After? After the click? Yeah, before, things feel off and for me there's like this buzzing noise. After things just felt more clear and like the world is more focused."

"Interesting."

"Damian. Damian there's a reason I'm telling you this," Jon said, turning to him.

"Why-"

"Because the first time I touched you thirteen years ago, I felt that click."

Damian blinked.

"And when I hugged you again today, I felt the click again."

"Oh," Damian said softly.

"Yeah.... I'm sorry for throwing this on you, but I had to tell you. And we can still fall in love, outside of our soulmate, but things will always feel off."

Damian wasn't responding, just nodding slightly. Jon went silent, crossing his muscular arms and watching him cautiously.

"Well."

Jon sighed. "I'm sorry. Should I go? I should go. I'll let you think about it-"

"Jon, wait!" Damian exclaimed, standing.

Jon had already been flying, so he stopped, blinking.

"Thank you, for telling me. And especially thank you for not telling me earlier, when we were younger. I would not have known how to take it and I undoubtedly would have run away from you."

Jon smiled softly, touching back down to the ground.

"And I'm sorry, for being a horrible friend back then."

"It's okay, Damian. You weren't as bad as you seem to think."

Damian just shook his head slightly. He stepped forwards and hugged Jon again.

"Give me a little time to process this, okay? I'm not going to run away."

"Okay."

Jon smiled to himself as he hugged Damian for a minute, as he felt that warmth and safety.

And then he stepped back. "It was good to see you, Damian."

"You too, Jon."

They waved to each other and then Jon took off up into the air, heading back home.

A few days later he got another text from Damian.

~ I think I'm going to be in the states for a while.

- Yeah? That's cool! I'm sure your family will be happy to hear that.

~ yes. They were.

~ Would you like to get dinner sometime? So we can talk.

- That would be amazing.

~ Thursday?

- Sure, around seven? I can come down there if we push it to 7:30.

~ No, I'll come to you, so seven is fine. Send me your address and I'll pick you up. Dress nicely, business casual.

- Okay, I'll see you then :)

Three weeks later, they were dating.

Send me prompts!

[returningwriter]

Date Night Blues

@humaninprogress77 asked: Ok but where is the fix of Kara going to a date with William but getting drunk bc she doesn’t want to be there and she just thinks about Lena and then flies drunk to talk to Lena while she is drunk???

Kara was totally good to fly or so she thought right up until she crashed on Lena’s balcony and ended up in a heap with her head in a flower pot.

The date with William had been so awkward that it had led her to take them to the alien dive bar to try to make it less so, but a few dozen shots of some kind of alien scotch later she’d bailed.

Truth be told, the entire night she’d been thinking about Lena. Talking about how great Lena was or had been. Wishing she was doing these things with Lena. It had been very Lena Luthor-centric, to say the least!

So she’d faked needing the bathroom and then used her super-speed to flee for her life without as much as a sorry or a it’s not you, it’s me, lame excuse. And now she was ready to throw up in a flower pot and Rao she could hear the balcony door opening and then she could smell Lena.

“Kara?” the raven-haired beauty, yes beauty because Lena Luthor was freaking gorgeous and she was done with pretending to be straight, despite what her friends and family kept saying!

“Hiii, so I guess you’re wondering why I’m here with my head in your flowerpot uh?” she asked and shakily got to her feet.

“Among other things and are you… are you drunk?” Lena asked with the mother of all raised eyebrows and she burst out giggling.

“No! I’m way beyond drunk you sexy CEO you! I’m totally and utterly poo-faced!” she declared as she flung out her arms triumphantly and punched a hole in the wall.

“Oops!” she giggled way to hard and shook the dust and plaster from her hand.

“Do I want to know what brought you to this state?” Lena asked calmly and motioned with a manicured hand at the sorry state of her right now. Rumbled pink shirt, crooked glasses, flushed cheeks, and ruffled ponytail. Yes, she was a drunken mess!

“You’re the big brain genius, can you tell me why does dating suck so bad? Like really bad!” she asked dropping her arms to her sides with a defeated sigh. Then she pouted like a moody kid.

“Bad date, uh?” Lena asked biting down on her knuckle trying not to laugh at her drunken antics, but she’d missed seeing that little smile. At least the green-eyed girl wasn’t being mean or stand-offish tonight.

“The worst! I think it’s because I don’t like guys, girls are prettier and you’re the prettiest!” she hiccuped and Lena was actually super pretty tonight. Wearing her raven-dark hair down, with no makeup on, in an old baggy red sweater and faded blue jeans.

“My, aren’t you out and proud tonight,” Lena commented and she frowned at her friend.

“Says you, Miss checking me out all the time! Yeah, I noticed! Thanks for the flowers by the way!” she shot back with a snort but then the world started spinning and she leaned against the balcony railing. Lena didn’t answer her accusations but the green-eyed genius did pause before speaking.

"Kara why don’t you come in and I’ll make us some tea?” Lena offered softly at seeing her stumbling around.

“I don’t want tea! I want you to be my friend again! I want to undo this mess, I even tried to undo it but it didn’t work!” she mumbled and yanked off her glasses which made her suit appear. Why hadn’t she stayed in the reality where Lena had pleaded the fifth?

“Stupid activation trigger!” she whined and slid down to the ground in defeat.

“It sounds like you had a really rough night,” Lena said still sounding gentle and sat down next to her on the balcony floor.

“Don’t pretend to be nice to me,” she replied feeling mopey now as the sad parts of being drunk as a skunk hit.

“I get it, coming out is hard but why did you come to me? We’re not exactly on the best of terms these days,” the pretty smelling girl asked and she groaned.

“Because I want to be friends again but also because I think you’re all kinds of hot but that’s because I’m super drunk and I’ll just go now!” she blurted drunkenly, now embarrassed too and tried to stand up but Lena grabbed her arm and pulled her back down.

As she allowed herself to be pulled back down she felt dizzy and warm inside and had Lena’s eyes always been that green? Dizzy, again she felt so dizzy, like Red Kryptonite dizzy but better!

“As much as I appreciate the kind words, you are as you said very drunk,” Lena said and it made her blush. Then her X-ray vision kicked in!

Rao! All that pale skin and those soft curves and she forced herself to look away before she was caught staring, but caught she was.

“Now who is checking out who?” the sexy CEO girl asked and bit into her lower lip and Great Krypton’s Ghost, she wanted the Earth to open up and swallow her whole! But she also wanted to kiss those lips. Drunken bravery for the win!

Lena felt sorry for her friend, despite everything she still considered Kara a friend, three years of badly hidden love and affection didn’t go away that easily it would seem. Here she was, Kara Danvers, Supergirl, drunkenly complimenting her on her looks and pouring her little blonde heart out and it was cute but also sad. 

“My offer stands, come inside and mmph!” she was cut off when Kara kissed her and it took all of her willpower not to kiss the blonde hero back. 

Fireworks were going off in her head though and the blonde tasted like cherries and scotch. Like a love-struck teenager, she closed her eyes but held her hands above her head and away from Kara’s tempting muscular arms

“Oh fiddlesticks, Lena I’m so sorry like I’m all the sorries!” Kara blurted out and having only a split second to stop the blonde from fleeing like a scared puppy, she put her finger on the girl’s glistening lips.

“Come inside and I’ll make us some tea?” she asked hopefully this time and then couldn’t stop herself from giggling when Kara went cross-eyed trying to drunkenly look at her finger.

This would have to be done slowly she decided. Kara was, despite everything, the sweetest girl she’d ever met and in no way did she want to take advantage of her in her current very drunken state.

“Nod once for yes,” she instructed the thoroughly confused and drunk blonde and like the adorable puppy she was, Kara gave a slow nod and she felt the smile blossoming against her finger. It wasn’t much but it was a start. 

Wrote this on my phone so sorry if it’s a mess!

[jbbuckybarnes]

Italian

Bucky x Reader (Agent 16) Description: Bucky finally wants to take you out on a real date. Warnings: Fluffy fluff

Agent 16 Masterlist | General Masterlist

There was a smile on Bucky’s face everytime you walked into the kitchen for breakfast. It was a new occurence and you had noticed. You didn’t really know why. Sure, he had a crush on you. A date made that pretty clear. But all you did was walk into the room. How could that work every single time? You sat down next to him, stealing the pack of fruit loops away from him. “Morning, sugar face.” he gave you a lopsided sleepy smile. “Morning, dumpling bean.” a grin spread over your face. “I think I’m gonna vomit.” Sam’s voice echoed from the kitchen door. “If you clean it up.” you shrugged and earned a chuckle from James.

After Sam had made himself a peanutbutter sandwich he left for his room and the two of you were alone again. A pleasant silence with soggy cereal. A common Monday in the Avengers compound. “Why do you smile everytime I come here?” you asked into the silence. “Dunno. I just like to see you.” “But how does that work every single morning?” “You’re just-. You’re a factor for my happiness since, you know.” he got a little nervous and fidgety. “Buck.” you didn’t really have more words for him and instead went over his arm and fixed his hair. “Still need to live up to that promise of a proper date. You have time today?” he suddenly gained back his confidence. “Of course. Who doesn’t have time for pizza?” a shared smirk. Three hours later you were in comfortable and casual clothes and sitting in a cute little Italian place in Manhattan. “The most important question first: Pineapple on pizza?” he started. “Nope. I hate pineapples in general. They’re a bit too acidic in my opinion. Whatever floats your boat tho.” “Don’t like it either.” he pointed out while studying the menu. While you were trying to decide between a specific pasta dish and your usual favorite pizza he stared over at your frowning face and grinned. “Are you ready to order?” “Yes, I’ll take a Green Garden Pizza.” “Caprese and a small pasta with your new pesto.” “Anything special to drink?” He looked at you, “No, we’re good with what we have right now.” As soon as the waitress was gone you leaned forward, “Don’t wanna get me drunk, huh?” “I’ve seen you drunk last March. That was a journey and not a good one.” he chuckled. “I’m glad I cut back on that.” you snorted at the stories people told you about that evening going through your mind. “Blue or Green?” “Blue.” “Steve or Tony?” “Steve.” “Nat or Me?” “Bucky…that’s a horrible question.” You both knew each other on a level that made you unaware of the little things and he decided a question round would be a great idea. You would get into the deep things later on anyway. “That’s like me choosing between you and Steve.” “I’d kick you if you wouldn’t choose him.” you pointed at him. “I mean he kinda is my little brother I guess.” “You both definitely act like siblings.” you rolled your eyes with a smile. “Hey! You and Nat ain’t better.” “True.” The food arrived and you had no time to talk much with food that was this level of excellence. “Wanna try that pasta with me?” you asked and put it between the both of you. “If only it were spaghetti.” “We’re not in a Disney movie, Barnes. You actually have to ask for things in the real world.” you giggled. “I’ll keep that in mind.” he sent you a wink and those butterflies went bananas in your chest. “How can you even eat that much?” he asked with a full mouth, knowing you were not fazed by it. “I don’t know, but the food baby is growing.” you giggled showing off your food belly. Something about that movement over your body made his brain go crazy. He couldn’t pinpoint why but he KNEW his pupils were dialated and you just weren’t noticing. “You can have the rest.” you said exhausted after a while and earned a soft grin. You two had such a platonic vibe but god were you falling for each other. The way back home turned into a walk through central park with his arm close around your waist. Mainly because you were feeling like a zombie after overeating all the good food. “You just don’t know when to stop, huh?” he grinned down at you. “Don’t blame me. It’s so good. Worth the stomach pain.” “I get it. My Ma’s recipes are my kryptonite to this day.” “Do you still have ‘em?” “Some.” “We can make one this week…only if you want of course.” you suggested a bit all over the place. “Sounds good to me, sugar.” a light squeeze on your waist signaled you to walk towards the car that would bring you home again. You were following him to his room, still chatting. Sneaking in without Sam noticing, that would be the worst. Walking past the wardrobe you grabbed a sweater of his and put it on over your shirt. “You look so pretty in them, doll.” he stood right in front of you, grabbing your waist. “Thanks, Sergeant.” your eyes slowly went up with the last word and you saw his pupils dialating. “I think I might combust if you won’t let me kiss you today, 16.” his voice was dark, his hands grabbed harder. “Kiss me anytime you want, soldier boy.” your hands wandered behind his head before he finally dipped down to melt your lips together. A content grumble from him could be felt on your chest. Faster breathing from you had him encase you in a tighter hug. You both let go painfully slow. “God, I love you.” he mumbled against your lips. “Love you too.” you whispered before a second makeout session ensued.

[dimensiontripperhibiki]

Hold it Together (As We Fall Apart)

Summary: Kara and Lena try to move on after 5x08, slowly realizing their true feelings as everything crumbles around them. My first venture into writing Supergirl. Hopefully, you guys enjoy this and want me to continue. I look forward to diving further into Supercorp shipping!Note: Maybe include crisis/the aftermath of Crisis.Let me know if you think I should continue. :)

Kara let out a shuddering breath as she slowly brushed her thumb over Lena’s jaw, her eyes misted with tears. She wished that she could actually touch her best friend again, that it wasn’t just a photo she was touching but after what she’d done she wasn’t sure she would ever have the opportunity again. There was a light knock at her door and Kara looked up, surprised that she hadn’t heard anyone approaching. Usually, her super hearing would have picked it up. Her heart leaped with hope and she narrowed her eyes, using her x-ray vision on the door. Her heart sank in despair when she saw that it wasn’t Lena. “Kara?”

Kara begrudgingly set the photo she’d been holding onto the coffee table and got to her feet. She walked across the room, hastily wiping away her tears as she did so and opened the door to greet Nia.

“Nia.” Kara managed a meek smile at the sight of her friend. “What are you doing here? Did Alex send you?”

As Kara stepped out of the way to allow her entrance, Nia stepped into the loft, closing the door behind her. “No, of course not. Why would you even think…” She paused at Kara’s disbelieving stare. “Okay, maybe she called and mentioned you weren’t feeling great but coming over was my idea, I swear! I brought potstickers!” Kara blinked at the paper bag Nia was suddenly holding in front of her face. Usually, she’d be salivating at the thought of her favorite food but now her stomach just clenched uncomfortably at the thought of eating anything. “I-I’m not really hungry. Thank you though.” Nia’s brow furrowed in confusion at the response. That definitely wasn’t normal for Kara. “You heard me say potstickers, right?” She let her hand fall to her side as she watched Kara look away like she felt guilty at not accepting the offer of her favorite food. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for what happened with Lena.” Kara swallowed thickly against the lump that formed in her throat at the mention of Lena’s name. “It’s okay. I’m okay, I just need t-to figure out how to fix this. I’m not giving up on her. I can’t give up.” Nia watched as Kara made her way back to the couch, sitting back down. She carefully set the bag in her hand on Kara’s counter before she made her way toward her friend, sitting down next to her. “Maybe instead of the food, you could use some company instead?” Kara nodded, tears clouding her eyes at the thoughtful suggestion. She didn’t deserve such amazing friends. “I would like that. Thanks, Nia.” Nia moved closer to Kara, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to hug her from the side. “What are friends for?” She hadn’t expected the rhetorical question to garner a response from Kara and her eyes widened when a broken sob escaped the girl of steel. “Oh, I-I’m sorry…” Kara shook her head against Nia’s shoulder. “It’s my fault.” She replied through tears. “I should have been a better friend, I should have been honest. Instead, I was just a...a coward. And look what’s happened because of it.” “You did what you thought was best,” Nia replied gently, her chest aching as Kara’s tears soaked through her sweater. Her words were weak, not because she didn’t believe them - she absolutely did, with every fiber of her being, but because she knew that Kara wouldn’t believe what she was saying. “You don’t have to blame yourself.” “But it’s my fault!” Kara jerked away from Nia. Her eyes widened when she saw the surprise on Nia’s face. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” “I’m not afraid of you, Kara. Well maybe a little, you could...actually snap me in two if you wanted to. But I know you wouldn’t. I trust you.” “I should have trusted Lena.” Kara murmured, lifting her hand to wipe her face with her sleeve. She cleared her throat, trying to compose herself. She had cried more than she deserved to already. Even if she wanted to curl up into a ball and sob until she couldn’t anymore, she wouldn’t. “Let’s talk about something else. How are you and Brainy?” A smile sprung to Nia’s face at the mention of Brainy. “W-We’re good. Great actually. But are you sure you want to talk about that?” “Why wouldn’t I? It’s not like I broke up with my girlfrie-” Kara paused as her heart leaped in her chest for some unknown reason. “Lena is my best friend but that’s all.” Nia was unconvinced, especially as she looked down and saw the photo Kara had obviously been clutching before she got there. She reached down, carefully picking it up and set it down on the coffee table in front of them. Kara stared longingly at the picture. She missed those days. When Lena was her friend, when Kara could walk into a room and give the CEO a hug for no reason besides the two of them not seeing each other for a couple of days. When Lena didn’t hate her enough to imprison her in the fortress of solitude. Kara wished she’d made more use of that time she’d had with Lena. Now she might never get the chance again. “Kara?” Nia pressed gently, resting her hand lightly on Kara’s knee. Blue eyes flicked back to her own. “Did you hear what I said?” Kara silently shook her head. Nia smiled gently. “I said how about I go and warm up those potstickers for us and you try to eat something? We can watch a movie to take your mind off things.” “Right…” Kara said faintly, still lost in her own thoughts. She shook her head, forcing herself to focus. Alex had said she would be stopping by later and Kara was well aware of how her sister could get when she didn’t think Kara was taking good enough care of herself. “Thanks, Nia.” “Anytime.” As Nia got up to reheat their food, Kara sank into the back of the couch, her eyes glued to the picture. She had fought hard for Lena, sure, but she would do that for any of her friends...wouldn’t she? ---- Lena stared blankly at the plain white ceiling above her bed. She couldn’t sleep. Her thoughts tormented her too relentlessly for her to be able to catch a few precious minutes of sleep. Exhaustion would catch up on her. She knew that. Eventually, she would succumb to the blissful reprieve of slumber and she wouldn’t have to think anymore. She wouldn’t be stuck with thoughts of Kara racing through her mind. No, she corrected herself sharply, her brow furrowing, Not Kara. Supergirl. She isn’t Kara anymore. Not her Kara. Maybe she had never been her Kara. Maybe her Kara wasn’t even real. 

Supergirl had lied to her, used her. Made Lena believe that Kara Danvers was someone she wasn’t. Staring at the ceiling, Lena remembered the blinding fear she’d felt when she’d thought that Kara was in danger. She’d never felt fear like that before. “Kara, the safest place for you to be right now is with me.” Kara must have thought her to be such an idiot for saying that. It was laughable. A Luthor trying to protect a Super. Her feeble attempts must have been hilarious to supergirl. “Kara, are you okay?!” “Yeah. Mercy must have hired terrible marksman. They totally missed me.” Lena gritted her teeth and twisted onto her side, curling into a ball as tears prickled at her eyes. “I’m about to die but at least I lived without ever being a fool.” Lex’s words rang in her ears as if he were in the very same room as her. He was right, she had been a fool. She’d been a fool to turn her back on her vow to never let anyone in. She’d been a fool to trust Kara as much as she had. She’d been a fool to not see what was right in front of her. She hated Kara for doing that to her. She hated her. She hated her with every fiber of her being. “Kara Danvers, YOU are my hero.” Lena buried her face into her pillow, crying silently into the soft cotton. She wished she could just make it stop, that she could just forget it all. She’d prefer anything to this utter misery she was feeling. Kara Danvers had crushed her, had humiliated her. Had broken her as nobody else could. 

---- “Alex! Alex, help me!” Kara’s hands pounded against the small glass window of the pod she was confined in, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps. She could feel the burning agony of kryptonite coursing through her, seeping her power away. Outside of the pod, there was darkness, pure darkness with no sight of the person she was calling for. Alex wouldn’t be coming to save her this time. Nobody was going to come. Still, Kara slammed her hands frantically against the glass. She couldn’t get out. There was no escaping the prison she’d been trapped in. “Alex! ALEX!” “ALEX!” “Hey, hey, hey!” Alex caught Kara’s arms as her sister bolted upright in bed. The force with which Kara had sprung up with almost had Alex tumbling to the floor but she managed to steady herself before she could fall. “Kara! Hey, you’re okay. I’m here. It’s okay.” It took a moment but finally, Kara’s wide, tear-filled baby blue eyes focused on Alex’s worried face. “A-Alex, I-I…” “It’s okay.” Alex crawled further onto the bed and Kara fell forward into her arms, her tears coming thicker and faster. “It’s okay,” Alex repeated, gently running her hand over Kara’s hair. “It was just a nightmare. You’re safe, I promise.” “I couldn’t get out.” Kara choked brokenly into Alex’s shoulder. “I was calling for you a-and you weren’t...I couldn’t...a-and Lena…” Alex gently shushed Kara, trying to calm her down while also trying to quell the sudden feeling of fury blooming in her chest. Lena had better hope that she didn’t find herself in Alex’s path anytime soon. “I was so scared.” Kara whimpered into the shirt Alex had borrowed from her when she’d gotten there. “I didn’t think you were coming…” “Of course I was coming,” Alex said firmly. “You think a crazy Luthor and an impenetrable fortress would be enough to keep me away?” She felt Kara tense in her arms and gave her a gentle squeeze. “I’m just joking, Kara.” Kara nodded and slowly pulled away, wiping at her eyes. Alex didn’t miss the subtle tremble of Kara’s hands. “It’s been a long time since you had dreams like this,” Alex remarked softly. She remembered Kara used to have them all of the time when she was younger. Nightmares. Panic attacks at being in an even slightly enclosed space. Kara guiltily bowed her head. “I’m okay…” “No, you’re not.” Alex disagreed with a sad smile. “It’s okay not to be okay, Kara. It’s only me here. You don’t have to hide it from me.” Kara chewed thoughtfully on her lower lip for a moment before she nodded her head. “Will you stay here with me?” She jerked her head toward the pillow next to her own. “I don’t want to…” “Of course. I was sleeping here anyway. Nia’s crashed on your couch. I don’t think she wanted to leave until I got here and I was...really late.” Alex said sheepishly. “I didn’t have the heart to wake her.” As Kara lay down, Alex moved to lie next to her. As Kara turned onto her back to face the ceiling, Alex turned onto her side to silently watch Kara. Kara was silent for a few long moments before she spoke, her voice trembling. “I really...I love her, Alex.” Alex knew that Kara wasn’t talking about Nia. “I know.” Kara swallowed convulsively. “She’s my best friend.” She murmured before she turned onto her side. Alex stared at Kara’s back, wondering why her sister had felt the need to elaborate on what she’d meant. “Kara…” “Goodnight, Alex.” Alex sighed softly. Kara was stubborn. If she didn’t want to talk, she wasn’t going to talk. “Goodnight.” ----- A week later “You can do it, Danvers.” Kara mumbled to herself as she stared at herself in the mirror. Thankfully she had checked that nobody else was in the stalls before she’d started talking to herself in the mirror. “It’s just a day at work, that’s all. Just a normal day at work.” She tucked her hair behind her ears, letting out a slow breath. She hated to admit it but her work had suffered after everything that had happened with her and Lena. She could barely focus on anything anymore. Everything at CatCo reminded her of Lena. She knew that she couldn’t keep doing this to herself. She had to give Lena time and space, that was all. She needed to give Lena time to heal. As much as it pained her to do so. Kara was torn from her thoughts by her phone ringing in her pocket. She quickly scrambled to answer it, noticing it was Alex. “Hey, Alex. I was…” “Kara, it’s Lena.” Alex interjected before Kara could finish speaking. “Something’s going down at L-Corp. There’s talk of shooters. You can get there faster than us. I know she-” Kara didn’t let Alex finish what she was saying. She dropped her phone and tore her glasses off before fleeing the bathroom, followed by the building as her suit formed around her. Her super speed had never felt slower than at that moment and Kara was struck by the idea that she wished Barry was there to give her a boost. “Come on, come on…” Kara gritted her teeth to push herself faster. It could have only been seconds but it felt like hours before she finally burst into Lena’s office. She glanced frantically around, noticing the office was smashed up, the entire contents of Lena’s desk seemingly on the floor. Her super-hearing picked up the sound of a smash beneath her feet and without hesitation she dashed off again, making her way down to Lena’s lab. She crashed through the door, still at a speed that would easily rival the Flash’s. Her eyes widened when she saw Lena standing with her back against the wall, her eyes wide with fear as five heavily armed men pointed their guns at her and pulled the triggers. Without thinking, Kara flew across the room, pressing Lena against the wall with her own body. Time seemed to speed up around her again as she cupped the back of Lena’s head drawing it to her shoulder to shield her. Bullets hit her back, falling harmlessly to the ground but the men kept firing, clearly alarmed at the sudden presence of Supergirl. Kara held Lena throughout it, feeling the woman trembling in her arms. Her face was pressed into Kara’s neck, her hands clutching at Kara’s back under her cape. Kara couldn’t feel the bullets but she could vividly feel Lena’s nails digging into her shoulder blades through her suit. Guiltily, Kara couldn’t help but soak in the feeling of being so close to Lena. She’d missed it. Her warmth, her scent. Everything about her. Finally, the shooting died down and Kara reluctantly pulled away. Lena’s eyes met hers and Kara swallowed thickly. She hesitated for a moment before she remembered the men behind them and turned on them, anger blazing in her eyes. “Shit…” One of the men muttered, struggling to reload his gun as Kara advanced on him. Just as he lifted his weapon, he was hit with a punch to the jaw, knowing him unconscious. Lena let out a slow breath as Kara dealt with the mean who’d attacked her, disarming them one by one. Kara let the final mercenary fall to the ground and she made her way quickly back to Lena. “Are you okay? W-Were you hit?!” Lena silently shook her head. She was still shaken, she had to admit but she didn’t want to let it show. “I’m fine, Supergirl.” Kara grimaced slightly but chose to ignore Lena’s pointed comment. She looked down at Lena’s wrist, frowning slightly. “You don’t have the watch I gave you…?” “I have it somewhere,” Lena answered, trying to seem nonchalant about it. “I don’t see the need for it anymore. You can have it back if you wa…” “Why didn’t you use it?! What the hell were you thinking, Lena? You could have died!” Kara was close. Suddenly too close and Lena felt like she couldn’t breathe. “I didn’t want you!” She pushed at Supergirl’s chest but of course, the Kryptonian didn’t budge. “I don’t want you. That’s why I didn’t call you.” Hurt flickered across Kara’s expression, her anger replaced by pain. “Lena…” Lena gritted her teeth and looked away. She couldn’t stand it. The way Kara said her name. Gentle and reverently. Like she cared. She was momentarily distracted by Alex rushing into the room with a few other agents. “I believe I made my feelings perfectly clear, Supergirl. I don’t want you here.” Kara’s lip trembled. “Lena, I’m sorry. I just…I know you don’t want to see me. I know you...hate me. That I hurt you more than...more than I can imagine but don’t do this. Don’t put yourself at risk to get back at me. I’m not worth it. I’m here if you need me. It doesn’t have to be as a friend but I can protect you if you’re in danger and...” “You’re rambling, Supergirl.” Lena snapped, effectively silencing Kara. “You’re the very last person I would want to protect me after what you’ve do-” “Alright, enough!” Alex suddenly appeared between them, her hand going to Kara’s arm. “Supergirl, leave. I’ve got this from here.” “Alex…” Kara’s teary eyes turned to Alex. Pleading with her. “I won’t hurt her,” Alex said softly. It was a promise she hoped she could keep. “Go.” Lena stared at Kara as the woman glanced at her one last time before she flew off. She barely had time to breathe a sigh of relief before Alex turned on her, anger written across her face. “I understand that you’re angry and hurt. That you feel betrayed.” Alex said, keeping her voice low. “But what you’re doing is cruel. What you’ve done to her is cruel!” Lena’s eyebrows shot up. “I’m being cruel?! What about what she’s…” “How could she tell you?!” Alex interrupted sharply. “You barely even liked Supergirl! She thought you’d hate her. That you’d stop being her friend.” “That’s not the…” Alex held up a hand. “I’m not finished! Do you know she’s been having nightmares since you locked her in that prison?!” “What?” Lena’s brow furrowed in confusion. “She knew I wasn’t going to kill her, she…” “She’s claustrophobic!” Alex hissed, trembling with anger. “And you attacked her with Kryptonite even though you know how she feels about it!” Lena stayed silent, at a loss for words. She hadn’t known that. How hadn’t she known that? Alex scoffed and turned to walk away. Lena may have still been her friend but Alex was too angry to even look at her. She was surprised to see that during her exchange with Lena and Supergirl, the other DEO agents had dragged the mercenaries out of there. “Alex.” Alex paused near the door, debating whether she should respond to Lena or not. She turned her head slightly. “What, Lena?” “I wasn’t Supergirl’s biggest fan at times,” Lena spoke softly, the crack in her voice betraying her feelings. “But I was Kara Danvers’. I would have hoped she’d known that. That she would have trusted me. Clearly, I misread our friendship.” Alex let out a soft sigh. “She adores you, Lena. She made a mistake, that’s all. Who doesn’t?” Lena opened her mouth to answer but she stopped as Alex walked away. Trembling, she slid down the wall, her hand going to her chest. She could still feel Kara’s warmth. TBC?

[profitinaecho]

Dark!Max pt 7 (explicitish)

The next morning, Liz woke up with Max’s arm heavy across her middle and with his breath puffing against her cheek. She stretched then turned towards him with a smile. “Hi.”

Max kissed her nose. “Good morning.”

Liz shifted her legs across the blue soft sheets. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did. What are you up to today?” Max asked Liz as she slipped out from under the covers to head to the bathroom in just one of his T-shirts. It was huge on her and the hem hit her knees. He heard her mumble something about cinnamon being gross then she came back into his room brushing her teeth.

“Uhm, nothing really. I promised Rosa I’d ask you to help her use her powers because she thought she was the one to blow out the bathroom light in the Crashdown.”

“Oh. No. That was definitely us. Has she tried turning a lightbulb on by herself yet? If she can master that, she will get a better feel for the electricity.” Max stretched out with his arms over his arms over his head. He was naked and the covers were pooling around his waist.

“No, as far as I know she has just shorted out all the electronics she has touched.” Liz climbed back into bed next to him.

“I used to do that. I’ll trade a favor for me teaching her. We could do that today if you want to.”

“What kind of favor?” Liz ran her hand down Max’s bare chest.

“One where I get your mouth- here” Max said, dragging Liz’s hand down towards his erection.

She fisted it and pumped him a few times before looking away shyly. “Deal.”

Max kissed her nose. “Good. One more round then let’s go see your sister.” He pulled her closer and rolled her underneath him to the sound of her breathless giggles.

——————————

Max and Liz went to Costco to buy a 50 pack of lightbulbs for Rosa to practice on. It had taken Max dozens of practice lightbulbs to master using his powers when he wanted to and leaving electricity alone when he didn’t. Of course, back then all it took was Liz smiling at him or tossing her hair in his general direction to knockout the electricity at Roswell High. Liz had always been his kryptonite. Teaching Rosa would be complicated by her mood swings. Learning to be even keeled would be a challenge for her- but an important one.

After buying a pack of lightbulbs, Max and Liz headed to the Crashdown to pick up Rosa. It was a bright sunny early summer day, but not yet too hot outside. It was warm but comfortable. Liz texted Rosa that they were there to pick her up and 5 minutes later Rosa stomped out of the Crashdown wearing dark holey jeans and a Nirvana T-shirt with combat boots. “Let’s get this over with.” Rosa grumbled, plopping into the back seat of the Jeep.

Max maneuvered the Jeep back onto Main St, headed out towards the desert. “When I first hit puberty, I eventually shorted out every electronic in the house. My parents had the house completely rewired- twice. I finally managed to get that under control and then I’d see your sister and I’d lose it” Max smirked and glanced at Liz. Liz flushed under his gaze. “Remember that pink fuzzy sweater you used to wear? I don’t know why but no lightbulb was safe when you wore that. And oh god, sundress season.” Max got a dreamy look on his face.

“Gross. I don’t want to know anything else about alien puberty.” Rosa wrinkled her nose and crossed her arms over her chest.

“The point is, if you can keep your emotions level no matter what is going on around you, you can stop shorting out appliances. When your blood pressure rises in response to an outside stimulus…” Liz started.

“How am I supposed to do that when my emotions do what they want?” Rosa fretted. Her bipolar was going to make this learning process more difficult- especially when she was manic. When she was depressed, she didn’t really feel anything. But when she was manic, she felt everything too much. And every morning, she woke up not knowing what her behavior would be like that day. It was exhausting.

“You feel the electricity skim up your spine before you lose it right?” Max asked, pulling into an abandoned stretch of desert with no houses or people in sight.

“I guess.” Rosa stepped out of the Jeep following Max and Liz to a spot a ways from the Jeep.

“So let’s try lighting the lightbulb without exploding it.” Max handed Rosa a lightbulb. “Focus on your emotions, on keeping them steady then release just enough emotion to turn the lightbulb on. Like this.” Max concentrated and lit up the lightbulb in his hand easily. He had had a lot of practice doing this over the years.

Rosa took a lightbulb out of the box and concentrated but nothing happened. “This isn’t working. This is stupid.” Rosa’s frustration and anger got the best of her and she jumped as the lightbulb burst in her hand.

“Let’s try it again. Focus on what you’re feeling and tamp it down until you are ready then slowly release it.” Max watched Rosa carefully, smiling when her bulb finally lit up. Liz slipped her hand in his back pocket and squeezed, surprising Max. His lightbulb promptly exploded and Rosa’s lightbulb flickered ominously. “Liz! Hands!”

“Sorry.” Liz pulled her hand out of his back pocket.

“Elizabeth, really?” Rosa jumped as her bulb cracked down the middle.

“We’ve got dozens more. Here, take another one and try again.” Max handed Rosa a lightbulb and crossed his arms patiently. “Concentrate on the way you feel, suppress it to keep the lightbulb from exploding it. Then gently release it.”

Rosa did what he said then beamed as her lightbulb finally lit up. “I did it!” She exclaimed excitedly, then jumped as a spark of electricity climbed up her spine and exploded the lightbulb.

“Good emotions are sneakier. They creep up and can cause just as many problems. Let’s try it again.” Max once again handed Rosa a new lightbulb. He didn’t have anything better to do that day than teach his protege.

“This is so bizarre.” Rosa easily turned her lightbulb on that time, and beamed as it stayed on. And then her phone buzzed in her pocket and distracted her, causing the bulb to shatter. “Ugh! I’m too ADD to do this!”

“You’ve almost got it. You just have to keep practicing. Again.”

“Do I have to? No one else has to do this.” Grumbled Rosa waving a bulb in the air. It quickly shattered, just leaving the metal parts.

“We can’t just keep buying new appliances, Rosa. It’s getting expensive.” Liz tried to appeal to her sister’s logic. “Speaking Of Which, Max, I bribed Rosa to come here with a new boom box.”

“I have to go shopping too? Oh, you’re going to owe me.” Max teased her.

“Fine. One more time then we go to Target.” Rosa took another lightbulb from the box, concentrated and managed to light it up for 30 seconds before it flicked and exploded.

“Good! That’s really great for a first try at training.” Liz bounced and clapped. “Thank you for your help, Max.”

“Sure. Just don’t tell anyone that I can be nice.”

——————————

Max was strangely absent the next few days after the day he spent with the Ortecho sisters. Liz tried not to take it personally but she was concerned. He had not been away from her this long since he had come back from the dead. The poems had also stopped.  And then she got an ominous text from Max that evening just as she got off work.

Max: I need you.

Liz: What’s going on? Like for help or…?

Max: Please just hurry.

Liz: You’re scaring me.

Max: I’ll tell you when you get to my place

Liz grabbed her keys and pulled on her ballet flats to head out the door. By the time she arrived at Max’s house, she had herself all worked up thinking of all the things that could be going wrong. What if his pacemaker wasn’t working? She thought he had moved past hurting anybody but what if he hadn’t? When she pulled up to his house, he came quickly out of the front door to meet her around the hood of her car.

Max lowered his mouth to her ear. “You came.” Max crushed her to his chest while Liz tried to figure out what was going on. He was acting very intense.

“Max?” Liz questioned him quietly. He tilted her head back, taking her mouth with his. He thought Liz tasted sweet, like chocolate. She stopped trying to figure out what was going on and gave in to the kiss. Max definitely had his tongue in her mouth and his hand on her ass pulling her closer.

Finally pulling back, Max rumbles out a quiet. “Hi.”

“Hi. Max?” Liz breathlessly searched his eyes for a sign of what was going on.

“You actually came.” Max leaned his forehead against hers.

“Well, I mean not yet but at this rate I probably will soon.” Liz laughed nervously.

“Liz, I almost killed a piece of shit at work today but when I started to do it, I worried about what you would think of me. What does that mean? Like I like you but I don’t understand the caring part. You’ve crawled under my skin and I think about you all the time.” Max rubbed his chest, disturbed by the weird ache. It wasn’t due to his heart surgery- it was something else. Max rubbed the spot harder with a furrowed brow.

“Max? Are you okay? Is something wrong with your heart?” Liz was concerned about him. He was acting strange.

“Yes. It is feeling things and I don’t like it.” Max wasn’t sure he would be able to calm down until he was grounded inside of her. Max took Liz’s hand and led her into his house. He guided her to his room while Liz played with the worn strap on her purse nervously. Her eyes widened at his expression. He looked almost feral. “I hope you weren’t planning on sleeping tonight because I need you.”

“And here I thought you just needed me for a little snuggle and a nap.” Liz smiled at him. She meant for her words to come out snarky but they are soft. “We don’t have to sleep. What do you need?”

Liz took three steps into the room followed closely by Max. He advanced on her, like a predator and she took a cautious step back until her back hit the bed. Max’s eyes were fiery with lust but he also looked angry. His fists were balled at his side. He flexed then released them when he caught her looking. Max looked like he’s about to lose control and Liz was excited- and a little wary. She could feel his tension crackling in the air.

Liz’s gaze moved up to his eyes and she got trapped there. He was watching her like a panther or something. He leaned closer and his tongue slid across his lower lip hypnotizing Liz. She followed her instinct when he got closer and pounced him like a cat. They fall backwards onto the bed with an oof. He palmed her ass with one hand and pulled her back to his mouth by her hair with the other one. “I need you to ground me. Okay?”

“Okay.” Liz frantically started undoing the buttons on his shirt while he unceremoniously ripped her panties right off from under her dress. He needed her too much right now to worry about getting all of the clothes off. Max undoes his belt buckle and slid his belt out from his belt loops. He snapped it against the comforter and Liz eyed it warily when he didn’t just drop it there. “I don’t do spankings with belts.” She warned him.

“What if I do?” Max slid it ominously against his palm.

“Then you can hand that over and I’ll do my best not to feel bad about beating you with it.” Liz tried to say it with a straight face but ended up giggling.

The heavy mood dissipated and Max smiled. “Don’t worry, that’s not my thing. I’m more into pulling your hair.”

“I know, I like it.” Liz pressed her palm against his cheek and felt his jaw jump under her hand. “Are you okay?”

He turned his face toward her hand. “Yes. No. I don’t know. I really needed you here and you came.”

“I’ll always come when you need me, Max.”

Max ran his hand up her bare sternum, his thumb sweeping up and down along her throat nervously. “I need to be inside you right now.”

“Okay, Max. Then that’s where you should be.” The desire in Max’s eyes was a direct contrast to every tense muscle in his body. It made Liz want to ask more questions but she wasn’t sure he could handle any more truths for the day. And so she spent the night comforting him the best she could with her body.

[whoareyouandwhyshouldicare]

To all my fellow LoVe shippers who are feeling down I have one thing to say.

I can’t make the last 8 minute of season 4 disappear but I can recommend some really great LoVe fanfiction that will make you feel at least a little bit better. So without further ado here are a few of my favorite LoVe fics!

A Hard Habit to Break  by  mskatej   Nothing gets Veronica over her failed relationships better than Logan Echolls.    

...And Long For You  by  AbsolutelyIris It was moments like those Veronica wished she could be like Lilly- storm into his house and curse and yell and damn him to hell before demanding he fuck her...and like with Lilly, he would gladly, if reluctantly, do so.      

 “Any Love Is Good Love, Baby”  by wily_one24   Apparently, Hollywood was wrong, the devil did not wear Prada, the devil wore butch black boots and tiny little skirts.                                

The Best (and Only) Kept Secret in Neptune  by  vixleonard Even when they hated each other, Logan and Veronica just couldn't stay away from each other.                     

The Burdened Vessel  by  vixleonard   Veronica needs a favor only Logan can help her with.              

Every Belt That Ever Hit Someone (Is Still Made to Hold Something Up)  by igrockspock   Logan doesn't get any votes for Most Changed at the ten-year reunion, which is bullshit when you think about it.  In the past ten  years, everything in his life has changed.  He's joined the Navy, dated a pop star, and figured out that Dick Casablancas can occasionally behave like a real human being.  Only one thing hasn't changed: he's still in love with Veronica Mars.  Oh, and he's suspected of murdering his girlfriend.

"Fear and Loathing in Neptune"   by wily_one24 Veronica Mars was going to get herself laid. Series  Part 1 of Any Love  

A Fine and Endless Cycle  by kartography A freshman year at Hearst and the cyclical nature of love                                         

Fireworks by AliLamba Veronica is technically not a virgin, and awkward results ensue. An AU version of LoVe's first time.                

For the Sake of a Friend by jacedesbff   What if Logan and Veronica were involved in a secret relationship throughout the events of Season 1?     

The Game of Trust  by Kantayra of Yore (Kantayra)   This time Veronica really did trust him, and she knew how to prove it...    

Getcha, Getcha, Getcha, Getcha  by  Kantayra of Yore (Kantayra) Veronica and Logan prank each other. Really, it's shameless the way they flirt...  

Give Me The Ocean  by scandalpants   Post Season 3 AU.  Veronica decides what she really wants.  Spoiler: it's not Piz.                                              

Home Is Where The Heart Is by: lv63   AU preseries and forward, begins in season 1. this story is all about veronica and her friends. angst, mystery, humor and romance, LoVe and MaDi. summary in prologue. 

I Hate You Because by: SilverLining2k6   Mid 1X3 - Meet John Smith.    Logan, Veronica, a pool, snark, and a made up drinking game.

i knew you were trouble when you walked in  by youcallitwinter   And, it's just—  Logan had always been her intense high-school romance, sure. But she had, somewhere along the way, in some secret corner of her mind, convinced herself that was all he was; a high-school romance. Explosive, powerful, passionate, and bound to burn itself out eventually

(Im)Perfection  by  AbsolutelyIris The only real mistake is the one from which we learn nothing.                

In a World by: my shangri-la   A/U! Exploring the 'what ifs' that could have happened if Lilly Kane hadn't been murdered, and her secrets – and others – had come out anyway. Pairings: Lilly/Logan, past Duncan/Veronica, eventual Logan/Veronica. (Story begins with Lilly as a senior, the rest are juniors.)

In the kind of world where we belong  by  Anonymous  There was always something missing.  A Lilly Kane sized hole in both their hearts.  Instead of going to see Aaron Echolls on October 3rd Lilly decides to comfort a friend and their lives change forever.A very smutty OT3 take on what might have happened if Lilly had lived.

Kid Things  by sowell   5 years after graduation, Logan comes back to Neptune to ask Veronica for help.                      

King of Mars  by: HGRising   AU. In which everyone has a story to tell but not everyone gets the chance. And, things make more sense from a different perspective. Ever wonder why Veronica Mars was Lilly Kane's best friend? There's redemption for some and condemnation for others when the secrets come out. And everyone's got a good one.

Landmine  by  AbsolutelyIris It needed to be forgotten, and quick.             

The Long Way Home  by  AbsolutelyIris   "We should take the long way home." 

Matching Pink Bikinis  by  Anonymous Veronica and Lilly wear matching pink bikinis to Logan's for a pool day.  This is pure threesome smut, folks.                

Pink Lemonade (Logan/Veronica/Lilly)  On a trip to Honolulu, Lilly manages to bring Veronica out of her pink, frosty shell. Spoilers/Warnings: This is a threesome fic and therefore includes some femslash.        

Playing Hide and Seek With the Truth by: jenwin23   Continuation of the Truth series. The kids go back to school. Old issues remain while more secrets will be revealed, relationships will change and lives will crumble.

The Real Thing by: Josielynn   AU. Logan and Lilly are off again/on again. Duncan is dating Meg. Veronica was never friends with Lilly. Logan sees Veronica in her soccer uniform and wants to date her.

Scotch on the Rocks (A FanFic Tribute)  by kmd0107   A long time ago...there was an incredibly hot LoVeLy trilogy fic (Pink Lemonade & Sex on the Beach) started over on Live Journal that never got its third part.  This is a tribute to what that might have been.   Logan POV of the evolving sexual and emotional relationship between himself, Veronica, and Lilly.              

Scourging Fire, Blazing Soul  by Nerdyesque   What if Veronica didn't grow up with the 09ers, but came into their lives prior to Lilly's death? How would her presence affect Duncan, Lilly, Logan, the Kanes, and the Echolls? Also, who is Veronica without Keith Mars' loving protection?      

Sex on the Beach (Logan/Veronica/Lilly) NC-17 Lilly's chapter in my Drinks Series. Nobody wants to talk about what happened in Hawaii, and it's driving Lilly crazy. How could she possibly make what happened less awkward? By making it happen again, of course!        

Some Truths Hurt by: jenwin23 Jumping off point: V gets Duncan's journal in Echolls' Family Xmas. AU from there but many canon events happen too. All characters in the VM-verse make an appearance, but it is a LoVe story. In script format-but give it a try, it's well written.

The Third Kane by: Mac-alicious   Lilly, Duncan and Veronica Kane rule the social scene in Neptune. The three are loyal and inseparable. They once believed there was nothing that could come between them. They didn't count on Logan Echolls.

Time, Make It Go Faster Or Just Rewind  by  kmd0107  Logan being ‘the real-Logan’ is so familiar that she almost can’t help but give in to it, even if it’s just a one night pass.   She’ll embrace this moment out of time and the walls and armor can go back up tomorrow.AU from 1x4 Wrath of Con              

Truths Too Big to be Told  by: jenwin23 Sequel to Some Truths Hurt. It's summer time and more than the weather is hot. Neptune is embroiled in class warfare, Veronica is looking into the mystery of another dead girl, the fallout from Lilly's case continues, and more secrets will be revealed.

I’m also throwing in some of my favorite MaDi (Mac and Dick) fics because Dick needs a hug too.

The ABCs of Mac and Dick by: jenwin23   The ABC challenge with Mac and Dick. Created for Madi lover at VM Santa 2010 at livejournal. Cross-posted. In letter order, not in chronological order.

Bodycount by: BIFF1   Cassidy and Mac meet a little earlier and a little blood-lust gives him an entirely different problem when it comes to forming a real relationship with Mac. AU with MAJOR season two SPOILERS! Mac/Cass, Mac/Dick, Mac/Cass/Dick

Casablancas Kryptonite By: BIFF1   "You just don't get it. She's like kryptonite or something." Dick looked at his brother and thought about those blue eyes that cut and the way her mouth twisted around insults. Yeah maybe she was kyptonite. Casablancas kyptonite because isn't he just as weak.

Casual? By: BIFF1   It's just sex. Casual sex. no attachments, just good hot sex. But that was the summer and now school is about to start up again and Veronica's back from Virginia and can tell that something is up. They can stop, no problem...

The Charm Bracelet by: DalWriter   Future Fic. Who Knew Prince Charming Would be Dick Casablancas? Mac reminisces as she looks at a charm bracelet Dick gave her.

Commitment Buffers by: BIFF1   Dick and Mac live with Logan and Veronica in their attempt to have some sort of commitment buffer between them. Only problem with the arrangement is that Mac and Dick tolerate each other at best which is a big improvement as far as their concerned. However living in such close quarters may prove difficult when it becomes obvious that they may actually sort of like each other.

Dark Day by: BIFF1   It's Cassidy Casablancas' birthday and the two people closest to him are falling apart. She just wants to hide away from the world for the rest of the week, just drink and cry and be with someone who gets it and no one gets it more than Dick. Not as angsty as it sounds, promise. Now complete with happy ending!

Electrify by: BIFF1   A guilt trip from Logan has landed Dick in a crowded tent with Mac. With a lightening storm raging outside he can't sleep and it appears neither can she.

Rendezvous by: BIFF1   A collection of one-shots. In which Dick and Mac are forced together by fate or friends and hook up. Because I apparently really like writing them hooking up.

Secret Santa By: BIFF1   Saw this homemade sweater from hell prompt from VMficRec. It's a November challenge but I couldn't help myself. Just some fun when Mac pulls Dick's name for Secret Santa. She figures a six pack and porn until he makes a big deal about not wanting anything handmade. She can't really help herself, she spends the month knitting Dick a sweater.

[smallvxlle]

CHARACTER SHEET repost. do not reblog.

𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬 !

FULL NAME.     clark joseph kent / kal-el NICKNAME / ALIAS.     boy scout, the red-blue blur, the blur, superman GENDER.     cis man HEIGHT.     6′5″ AGE.   verse dependent ; by smallville canon he is 32 as of 2019 ZODIAC.     that’s adorable. LANGUAGES.    fluent ; english & kryptonian ( after being taught by jor-el’s AI ) conversational ; others

Afficher davantage

𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 !

HAIR COLOR.     black EYE COLOR.     blue SKIN TONE.       a pinkish, ruddy fair. he looks very healthy, but he never keeps a tan very well due to his cells’ metabolizing UV Rays rather than being damaged by it. BODY TYPE.     built like a barn. this boy is BROAD ACCENT.     he’s pretty flat american due to slightly different development of his hard palate in his mouth. he doesn’t hold the nasal twang that is more typical in kansas VOICE.     that’s a man, maury DOMINANT HAND.     right for writing, but his fine motor skills are through the roof for both hands POSTURE.    as far as smallville canon goes, the clark kent persona looks stiff and kind of like he has a stick up his butt; this is in contrast to the comics clark kent persona whose posture is horrific and he slouches in a way to make himself look on the brink of overweight. as superman, he’s calm and collected and looks like a perfect statue. as clark the person, his posture is easy and he holds his frame really well. he’s fluid and calm, and that calmness demands attention. SCARS.     timeline dependent ; he has the mark of el burned into his chest for some time TATTOOS.     none BIRTHMARKS.      none MOST NOTICEABLE FEATURE(S).    his broad frame & bright eyes ( verse dependent with his spit curl )

𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 !

PLACE OF BIRTH.   krypton HOMETOWN.     smallville, kansas BIRTH WEIGHT.     i wish i knew kryptonian units of measurement but... baby-sized? BIRTH HEIGHT.     see above. he was baby-shaped MANNER OF BIRTH. wow guys i do not know what a kryptonian birth looks like, the WB never told me  FIRST WORDS.     pa SIBLINGS.        none ; verse dependent he and kara have a sibling-like relationship PARENTS.        born to jor and lara-el ; adopted and raised by martha and jonathan kent.  PARENTAL INVOLVEMENT.      hilariously involved

𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 !

OCCUPATION.      investigative journalist , published author , vigilante   CURRENT RESIDENCE.          his mailing address is in metropolis but he really spends most off time in smallville on the family farm he now owns. CLOSE FRIENDS.          chloe sullivan , oliver queen , lois lane , tess mercer   RELATIONSHIP STATUS.             verse dependent but if he had a tattoo it would say “property of lois lane :)”   FINANCIAL STATUS.               he gets by. as his reputation as a journalist and then as a prize-winning author rises, any real financial struggles go away. on the farming front, he puts in just enough effort to bring a minimal profit to the farm to avoid any suspicion, but it’s not a commercial farm at this point. the main source of income comes from writing. DRIVER’S LICENSE.               yes CRIMINAL RECORD.              not as clark kent ; he’s been a fugitive a couple of times as a vigilante VICES.               tunnel-vision 

𝐬𝐞𝐱 & 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 !

SEXUAL ORIENTATION.               timeline dependent ; he’s a little fluid with his sexuality, but clark is also a person who does not do a lot of exploring. he wanted to be done with “finding someone” when he was pretty young. he picks one person and he pines. hard. strictly speaking, he’s pansexual with a preference leaning toward typically-feminine presentation ROMANTIC ORIENTATION.               hug-oriented PREFERRED EMOTIONAL ROLE.        submissive |  dominant | switch < -- I’m not really sure what this means but just hug Clark PREFERRED SEXUAL ROLE.             submissive  |  dominant | switch. < --- see above LIBIDO.                not something that really figures into my writing since i’m SFW TURN ONS.               ¯\_(ツ)_/¯    TURN OFFS.          kryptonite LOVE LANGUAGE.               words of affirmation!!! RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES.              monogamous AF. clark was born already dressed in a sweater made of boyfriend/husband material. 

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 !

CHARACTER’S THEME SONG.     sun by sleeping at last HOBBIES TO PASS TIME.               that’s really hilarious. clark hasn’t had freetime since before the recession. MENTAL ILLNESSES.             nothing that affects quality of life ; clark has fairly healthy doses of acute stresses which provide opportunities for healthy coping mechanisms. the chronic stresses he has do not cause the same hormonal shifts in his brain chemistry due to his alien physiology. basically, he was built to handle stresses really well. as long as his emotional health is where it needs to be, he handles mental stresses really, really well. PHYSICAL ILLNESSES.        none LEFT OR RIGHT BRAINED.          right-brained. very emotionally driven! heart definitely leads first, but his logical side is NO slouch! he is a natural-born leader and that charisma also comes with the confidence of competency. PHOBIAS.        being truly alone ; failure  SELF CONFIDENCE LEVEL.         fairly high. he has a sense of loneliness which keeps his confidence in check so that it does not often become arrogance, but his abilities make him not unlike a god. clark worked hard to gain the confidence he needed to effectively become superman. VULNERABILITIES.         anyone he cares about, which is why his secret identity is so preciously protected.

TAGGED BY.  @bcywonder THANK YOU TAGGING.   @exposestruth ; @ofstardustandsteel ; @saraqxeen ; @gothamdetected ; + anyone who sees this it’s 3:30 am and I can’t think of tags

[beautifulcinephile]

Get to Know Me Well

I was tagged by @saywecanart to do a get to know me tag

Name: Juliana

Nicknames: Ju, Juju

Zodiac: Scorpio

Height: 5’1

Languages: Portuguese, English

Nationality: Brazilian

Favorite Season: Spring and Fall, because it’s not too hot nor too cold. Perfect for sleeping and wearing nice clothes.

Favorite Flower: Sunflowers and roses

Favorite Scent: The smell of cleaning products.

Favorite Fictional Character: Superman, Luke Skywalker, Rey, Ben Solo

Coffee, Hot tea, or Hot Chocolate: Hot chocolate, but due to the fact that I no longer drink milk, it’s tea.

Average Sleep: I think it’s 7 hours, but I’m not sure. 

Dog or Cat Person: Dogs

Number of Blankets: 1 to 2 blankets. When I feel really cold, it’s up to four blankets (!)

Dream Trip: Disneyland!

Blog Established: November 27th, 2012 (It’s been 8 years and my first posts are rather cringey)

Random Fact: Even though I never trained fighting, I have a pretty good fighting stance and I know how to punch

Gender: Female

Current Time: 01:21 PM

Favorite Artists: Greta Van Fleet, Queen, Dirty Honey, A-ha, The Police, Remy Zero (They’re a one-hit wonder so it qualifies), 

Songs Stuck in my head: It’s a tie between “Rolling 7s” by Dirty Honey and “Save Me” by Remy Zero

Last Movie I saw: “Immortals”. I rewatched it because of Henry Cavill.

Last Thing You Googled: Recipe for peanut candy

Other Blogs: My main blog is called “Greta of Rivia” (@gretaofrivia) but I rarely use it. 

Do I Get Asks: No!! Please, ask me something!

Reason for URL: I’ve explained it before

Followers/Following: Followers - 1039, Following - 382

Lucky Number: 8

Currently Wearing: Pink t-shirt, yellow sweater, blue denim bell bottoms, black Converse shoes

Dream Job: Translator

Favorite Food: Canned tuna, fried garlic, sardines

Instruments: Vocals, and I want to learn how to play the guitar

Favorite Song: At the moment, these are my favorite songs:

Scars - Dirty Honey Save Me - Remy Zero Kryptonite - 3 Doors Down Wish I Knew You - The Revivalists Soulfight - The Revivalists Rolling 7s - Dirty Honey

(Since Henry Cavill is my celeb crush at the moment, these songs are really suitable.) Tagging: @bigthighsandstupidguys, @satans-helper, @peacelovekiszka, @pomegranatecurses

[hwarang-number]

Dream Girl: Jonghyun/Minho Oneshot

Pairing: Jongho

Rating: T

Word Count: 3400

Summary: Jonghyun gets matched up with his dream girl through a dating app and arrives at the rendezvous to find Minho there for the same reason. Inspired by this Dean Martin/Frank Sinatra skit, as well as that one amazing Tumblr post of shirtless Jonghyun with a caption about his “stupid little bitch waist” (which I, naturally, have not been able to locate since.)

I really wanted to post this whole thing for New Year’s but I didn’t have time to knock out the entire (somewhat lengthy) epilogue, so that’s forthcoming, and I’ll cross-post to AO3 at that time. This part works as a stand-alone fic, though.

Dedicated to the beautiful @wysteryas, who inspired me to try my hand at SHINee fic. 2min is my OTP but Jongho is my kryptonite, apparently. They make me so ridiculously happy.

***

When Jonghyun spots the man sitting on his designated bench, his entire body jolts in stark dismay. If his dream girl really is coming here tonight, she won’t even see him with this guy in her line of vision. In fact, she’ll probably assume that said guy was her dream man to begin with and head off to happily-ever-after on his arm.

He looks up hopefully at Jonghyun's approach and oh hell yes, this is a dream man in-waiting. Huge, stunning double-lidded dark eyes, luminous olive skin, tousled silky black hair, long lean legs crossed at the ankle – and dressed to kill.

Sodam had approved every inch of her little brother, from his earrings to his boxer-briefs (sexy ones, Jonghyun-ah, just in case!), before shoving him toward the door with a giddy laugh, but if she’d seen this guy, she’d have promptly pulled Jonghyun back inside again and cancelled his membership with the dating app for good measure.

The man wears a black leather jacket, slim-cut and perfectly contoured to his torso, with a gray knit scarf knotted artfully at his throat and dark blue jeans cuffed above black lace-up boots. The cuffs of a dusky blue sweater peek out from the ends of his sleeves, and he wears one wide silver band on his left thumb.

Jonghyun wears rings too – just a few tonight, nothing ridiculous – and had always thought it kind of worked for him, but this man owns the thumb ring look.

Fuck, even his hands are beautiful. Long, strong, and exquisitely shaped, all the way to his fingertips.

The man is three kinds of gorgeous and he's just sitting there like a handsome piece of statuary, regarding Jonghyun curiously.

“– help you?” he’s saying, and it’s really, truly over now, because his voice is deep. Not corny American hey baby deep but hushed and soft and warm. The kind of voice that raises the hairs on the back of your neck in a really pleasant way.

Jonghyun is so fucked he could cry.

"Um," he begins brilliantly. "I’m sorry, but – could you maybe move to another bench for just a little? It's just, I'm supposed to meet someone – oh fuck –“ He breaks off at a telltale burning in his eyes and brings his fists to them before he remembers his eyeliner: a subtle, smoky border, painstakingly applied by Sodam because his hands were shaking too badly.

"Hey, easy,” the man soothes in the gentlest voice Jonghyun’s ever heard. “It's okay. I’d happily move to another bench,” he says, “but as it happens, I’m supposed to be meeting someone here too.”

Jonghyun peeks at him between his fingers, rendered speechless by disbelief, and the man’s breath catches.

“You have the most beautiful eyes,” he blurts, startling them both. “Actually, um…for half a second I thought you might be – who’re you meeting?” he asks suddenly.

Conceding defeat, Jonghyun drops his hands from his face and himself onto the bench beside the man. “A girl,” he says wearily. “I signed up on one of those dating apps – the, uh, ‘compatibility-guaranteed’ one,” he adds in an abashed mumble, “and I’m supposed to meet my dream girl here tonight.”

“Hey, me too!” the man says eagerly, turning to Jonghyun, his mouth curved in a smile so dazzling that Jonghyun’s heart does a startled little flip on its way to the pit of his stomach. “Tell me what yours looks like and we can keep an eye out for each other.”

Jonghyun sighs, wishing more than anything to forestall the inevitable: that awkward moment when the man realizes that they’re both here for the same girl and makes some weak attempt to convince sad, small Jonghyun that he actually has a chance with her.

Half a month’s rent went into this disaster, and for what?

“Legs for miles,” Jonghyun croaks, his cheeks burning. “At least, that’s the description they gave me. ‘Legs for miles, a small face, and…very big eyes,’ ” he finishes lamely.

The man grins. “It’s the eyes that get me too,” he confesses.

They all say that, Jonghyun scowls to himself. “And legs for miles?” he wonders dryly.

“Nah, I’ve got legs enough for the both of us,” the man laughs. “I’m waiting on a ‘small, shapely blonde with eyes to drown in.’”

Jonghyun’s sigh of relief comes out like a moan and he claps a hand over his mouth in horror. “I just – I’m really glad you said that,” he says quickly, stupidly, causing the man to raise the inner edges of his eyebrows in a captivating expression.

“Because…?” he puzzles aloud, then – “Oh. You thought we were expecting the same girl?”

“Maybe,” Jonghyun hedges, not quite meeting the man’s eyes, and he shakes his head with a strange half-smile.

“We have very different types,” he says simply.

“Ah, that’s good,” Jonghyun replies, and in the ensuing silence, reassesses his appearance for the umpteenth time this evening.

Sodam snuck the insoles out of his shoes while he was brushing his teeth. If she’s really your dream girl, she’s not going to care about a few centimeters, she insisted when he realized the absence, halfway out the door. Just be you, Jonghyun-ah. You want her to love you as you are, and she will – she’ll take one look at you and never want to leave your side.

He absently toys with one cuff of his impossibly soft sweater: a cream-colored turtleneck, pure cashmere and wildly beyond his budget. A gift from Sodam expressly for tonight, stored in a box of lavender and allspice berries for the past week for ultimate romantic appeal. If she can resist wrapping herself around you, she’s not worth having, she declared after an appraising nuzzle of his shoulder. You’re like hugging a basketful of sleepy kittens.

“You smell really good,” the man remarks, and Jonghyun glances over with a small, gratified smile.

“You too,” he realizes. The man smells subtly, headily of musk and cloves, and Jonghyun wishes he could justify leaning over for a deeper sniff – or simply asking what it is – but maybe a man that attractive just naturally smells that good, and how awkward would it be to come up with a response to Nothing – I guess it’s just me?

“Oh good,” the man replies, visibly relaxing against the back of the bench. “I had soccer practice earlier. I showered afterward but you still worry, you know?”

Of course he’s an athlete, on top of everything else. “Couldn’t get out of it?” Jonghyun asks dryly, never mind the man really doesn’t deserve it. “Not even for your dream girl?”

“I’m the team captain,” the man chuckles, either unbothered by or oblivious to Jonghyun’s sarcasm. “I don’t let them out of practice for anything short of death, so I could hardly do it myself.”

Jonghyun smiles in reply, a more genuine expression than he intended, and directs his gaze along the lamplit sidewalk – conspicuously empty at such a prime walking hour. His nerves jangle with whispers of not coming and stood up, and he turns back almost gratefully at the man’s question:

“Where are you taking her?”

“Um…well, it’s late enough that she might have eaten already,” he says. “So I thought: coffee and macarons at this café I really love, then there’s a quiet little jazz club where a friend and I perform sometimes – uh, he plays piano, I sing,” he explains, earning an impressed eyebrow-raise from the other man. “It’s pretty casual but there’s dancing, if she wants, and decent appetizers if she’s hungry.”

Snore, he reflects miserably, and applauds himself for leaving out the bit about the open-late bookstore next door to the café and the poetry books he conveniently arranged there on his way over, just in case they happen to stop in. Not to mention the fact that Taemin performing tonight is getting them free admission to the club and a customized playlist, as it were.

Flag me down if it’s going well – or not – and you can step in and sing to her, hyung, his impish friend had urged. I guarantee you won’t make it home in one piece – if you make it home at all.

“Sounds perfect,” the man says, “romantic as hell,” and Jonghyun looks up at him in surprise, narrowly biting back a gape. Without warning, the man brushes a hand across Jonghyun’s sleeve and a shiver – not altogether unpleasant – runs the length of his spine in response. “You’re even dressed for cuddling,” he remarks with a smile.

“And what are you dressed for?” Jonghyun deflects, his cheeks burning.

“Art gallery,” the man replies. “I know, sounds pretentious, but I’m really into photography, and there’s a cool exhibit on right now. There’s a great black bean noodle place just a few blocks away from the gallery, and I thought we could wrap up with a walk around the park after and maybe…some hand-holding to finish,” he volunteers, somewhat sheepishly, as though he feels he owes Jonghyun something after the cuddling comment.

“Nice,” Jonghyun declares, and means it.

“Oh good,” the man says, visibly relieved, as though Jonghyun’s approval carries some strange weight. “So, um…you’d be happy with a first date like that?”

Jonghyun frowns slightly at the question but the man’s earnest expression seems to crave reassurance, nothing more. “Yeah – especially the hand-holding,” he adds cheekily. “Skinship’s kind of my thing.”

“Hence the cuddling,” the man responds in kind, lips curving beautifully, and a companionable silence falls between them.

“How many kids do you want to have?” Jonghyun asks abruptly, and the man turns toward him with a start.

“Come again?” he croaks, brows halfway to his hairline.

“While we’re waiting, I thought it might be good to practice a little,” Jonghyun explains, his blush returning in full force. “Conversation, I mean – for our dates.”

The man’s shock softens but he continues to eye Jonghyun curiously. “And that’s your opener?” he wonders wryly.

“No, but it’s kind of a biggie for me,” Jonghyun replies. “So I wanna make sure I get it out.”

“Ah, I hear you,” the man says with perfect understanding. “It’s the same for me, to be honest. I love kids, so it’s something I want to make sure we have in common. I’m the youngest of two, so…three?” he ventures.

“Hey, me too!” Jonghyun exclaims. “I’m the youngest of two, and I want three kids – at least a couple of girls,” he adds shyly. “I’ve got a little girl dog now, so I’m sort of practicing up.”

The man smiles, warm and wistful. “Ah, lucky. I love dogs, but I’ve always been too busy to get one of my own.”

“Maybe I can bring Roo here sometime,” Jonghyun offers, without quite knowing why. “If you live nearby, I mean, and you could play with her for a little. Dog-time is a must for quality of life.”

“I’d like that,” the man says softly.

Jonghyun lets his head fall back, gazing up through the city-glow in search of stars beyond. It’s a beautiful night, crisp and clear, and the man beside him is surprisingly good company to help pass the time until –

He shakes his head to clear it, having momentarily forgotten the express purpose for his – their – presence here tonight, and frowns thoughtfully at his companion for a long moment before asking the question he really doesn’t want the answer to:

“Just exactly how tall are you?”

The man chuckles, as though he’d expected this eventually. “184 centimeters,” he replies.

Well, fuck. “With or without insoles?” Jonghyun needles, and the man grins brilliantly.

“I can reach down things from the top shelf of my kitchen cupboards, barefoot and flat-footed,” he declares with a sort of mock-triumph.

Fucking beanpole, Jonghyun thinks, glaring at those endlessly long legs. As if being tall is some sort of accomplishment. “I need a step-stool to reach on top of my fridge,” he grumbles. “Wanna come over sometime and clean my ceiling fan?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” the man banters back playfully.

Jonghyun wonders if it would be weird to ask the guy for his number. He probably isn’t serious about cleaning the fan, but Jonghyun genuinely wants him to meet Roo. He’s a really nice guy, interesting and easy to talk to; maybe they could even grab coffee or black bean noodles sometime.

If nothing else, maybe they’ll both get a friend out of this whole dating fiasco.

Jonghyun suddenly realizes that he hasn’t looked at his phone since he sat down and pulls the device from his pocket with a small panicked sound. It’s almost twenty minutes past the appointed meeting time, and there’s no push notification indicating that his girl checked in as “running late” or anything like that.

He frowns at the screen.

“Are you getting late for a reservation?” the man asks.

“No, I didn’t make any,” Jonghyun says, pocketing his phone again with a slowly sinking heart. “And everywhere we were going is pretty low-key, so…” He trails off. No use pretending, really. “It’s too late even to be fashionable, don’t you think?” he asks the other man without looking up, not really seeking an answer, so he doesn’t notice when none comes.

Honestly, he’s not surprised. Thousands and thousands of won – half a month’s rent – and ‘compatibility guaranteed’? He should’ve known it was too good to be true.

Hell, he should’ve known it was a crock when they revealed that his dream girl had ‘legs for miles’ – as if someone like that would even look at Jonghyun twice, let alone fall in love with him.

Or maybe there really had been a girl, he thinks bitterly, but she took one look at me and ran off before I could spot her.

How the hell is he going to tell Sodam?

He stretches his lips into a weak but resolute smile and turns to his companion. “I should’ve known I’d get stood up, but you –”

The rest of his sentence falls away at the expression on the man’s face. He’s staring down at Jonghyun with a gaze to sear your soul, lips parted slightly in small, shallow breaths.

“I don’t think we got stood up,” he says quietly.

“You think your girl’s still coming?” Jonghyun asks.

It’s a fair assumption, really. He’s the sort of guy girls would kill to date – sweet, tall, fit, sexy as hell – definitely not the kind of man you stand up. His dream girl is probably cursing her shoes and running through the park in a drama-worthy montage at this very moment.

The man presses his lips together and looks away. “I think she got here a while ago,” he says, his voice strangely rough.

Jonghyun clears his throat, wondering why his breath is quickening too, and why it’s suddenly easier to inhale with the man’s eyes averted. “You…you think she saw you were with someone,” he puzzles, “and, what: she’s waiting for me to leave?”

“No, I…” The man hesitates, rubbing his palms on his jeans and biting his lips together, as though he’s struggling with what to say or how to say it, then suddenly his eyes are locked with Jonghyun’s and Jonghyun thinks he may never actually breathe again.

“I think you’re my dream girl,” the man whispers.

Jonghyun’s heart catapults into his throat. “I’m not a girl,” he says faintly.

“I know,” the man assures him, looking as apologetic as he does impassioned. “It’s just…every time you’ve managed to look at me,” he says, his voice breaking slightly, “I’ve found myself drowning in your eyes.”

The heart in Jonghyun’s throat flails like a small wild creature, caught fast in a trap.

“You – you’re small and blond,” the man points out softly, “and I was thinking – wondering – if maybe…” He trails off, eyeing Jonghyun – specifically, Jonghyun’s body – with hopeful hesitance, and Jonghyun looks away quickly, knowing what the man is referring to, or rather guessing at.

“I, um…” he fumbles. “It’s just…my waist is kind of small for a –”

He breaks off with a sharp inhale as the man brings a hand to his waistline and closes warm fingers gently around the deep, almost feminine indent. The touch sends a strange, gorgeous heat straight to Jonghyun’s groin.

“Daebak,” the man breathes.

“I like art galleries,” Jonghyun whispers over the clamor of his frenzied heart, deliberately looking everywhere but at the man. “And black bean noodles, and hand-holding in the park.”

“I like coffee and cuddling – and cashmere,” the man murmurs, cautiously curling his fingertips in the material of Jonghyun’s sweater. “And in case it’s escaped your notice in all this time you’ve refused to look at me,” he adds, so lightly: “I just happen to have legs for miles, a small face, and very big eyes.”

Jonghyun fights it, he truly does. But suddenly he’s on his knees on the bench with the man’s face in his hands, kissing each large, exquisite eye closed with desperate presses of his lips.

They’re almost amber close-up, he discovers. Soft black lashes, wide swollen pupils drinking Jonghyun in –

He pulls back with a whimper of distress and veritably leaps off the bench. He just kissed – well, not kissed, but kissed part of – a man. A breathtakingly beautiful man – the most beautiful man he’s ever seen, hands down – but a man just the same. A man who paid a boatload of money to get matched up with his dream date and has been calmly waiting for a petite curvy blonde girl, not small stunted Kim Jonghyun with his stupid little bitch waist –

He turns to bolt, eyes burning, and a large hand closes around his wrist.

"Hey, easy; it’s okay,” soothes the gentlest voice Jonghyun’s ever heard, for the second time that night, and he feels the man come up behind him. Strong arms slip hesitantly around his stupid little bitch waist, making him gasp, and the warm weight of a cheek – or chin? – settles on the top of his head.

Jonghyun’s mind is torn between Fuck, how tall is he? and Fuck, how does this feel so good?

“I’m sorry,” the man murmurs. “I-I’ve never done…this, and I’m sure I’m doing it wrong. I just…I don’t want you to go.”

“I don’t want to go either,” Jonghyun confesses in a whisper, and the arms snug about his waist with a stifled moan against his scalp. His nipples tighten at the combination of sensations and he arches back slightly with a whimper.

“God, you feel so good in my arms,” the man groans.

Jonghyun’s not sure which of them initiates the turn, but suddenly they’re standing face-to-face and –

“You’re so beautiful,” they both say at once, voices hushed and yearning, and the man starts a little at the statement, as though he’s only just realized that Jonghyun is as overcome and in love as he is.

“You were my dream girl the moment you walked up,” he says softly, taking Jonghyun’s face in his hands. His fingertips drift gently through Jonghyun’s moon-pale dandelion down hair as his thumbs trace Jonghyun’s sharp cheekbones. “I thought you actually were her for a moment,” he reveals. “Except you weren’t a her, and then I realized that…maybe that didn’t really matter,” he concludes with a tender smile.

His legs end somewhere around Jonghyun’s waistline, and Jonghyun stares up-up-up into the most stunning eyes he’s ever seen. He never thought for a second that this was a girl of any kind, but somehow he’s everything Jonghyun wanted when he came here tonight, minus the damn Adam’s apple that some idiot placed at the level of his lips.

It’s handsome, as Adam’s apples go, and it bobs in a gulp as the man flounders under the intensity of Jonghyun’s silence.

“Please say something,” he whispers, dropping his hands to Jonghyun’s shoulders in a more socially acceptable pose.

Impossibly, his breath smells of jasmine and Jonghyun whimpers as his cock thrums in response. He’s lost in dark eyes and endless limbs and warm olive skin that seeps musk and cloves, trembling with the urge to kiss and nuzzle and burrow and bury himself in this utterly breathtaking person.

“Why aren’t you a girl?” he whispers.

“If you don’t know the answer to that,” the man says lightly, “then it shouldn’t make any difference, right?”

It’s a joke, but neither of them is laughing as the man draws Jonghyun deep into his arms and cradles him to a racing heart. “Let’s try this again,” he murmurs raggedly. “I’m Minho. What are you doing for the rest of your life?”

[pantstomatch]

slightestcomplication said:  If you're inspired, request for more of your teen wolf /stargate atlantis fics? (bleep0bleep's fic prompt generator kicked out Setting: Laboratory; Genre: Romantic Comedy; Trope: Doppelgangers) 

So you know I can’t resist an SGA au!  ENJOY.

"I don't see it," Stiles says, frowning, because he definitely sees it.

He jabs at his tablet maybe a little more forcefully than necessary, scrolling through the latest findings in the P7 caverns that Greenberg had forwarded him. "That guy's a psycho."

"Well, I mean." Scott squints at him. “Yeah.”

Stiles can see him squinting, even though he's definitely not looking up or around, because then he'd have to see Dr. Derek Hale freaking smiling at Captain Rapp. Derek Hale doesn't smile. Derek grumps and glowers all over the lab and yells at Stiles about leaving mugs everywhere and propping his feet up on the delicate ancient equipment. It's lasted thousands of years, Stiles is pretty sure it can handle his rubber soles.

Scott says, "It's basically you with a beard, of course he's evil."

Good old Scott, Stiles thinks, still not looking. "How is that even regulation?" he says.  He knows the troops get a little lax when stationed in another galaxy, but face shaving is at least the norm. Captain Mitch Rapp looks like a hobo. With, like, fantastic arms. Geez.

He's tragic, too, which apparently is Derek's kryptonite.  

Stiles can be tragic. Stiles has depths.

Maybe not the kind of depths that can relate to having his fiancé gunned down in front of him, but look. Stiles isn't trying to take away from Rapp's pain here, but before he beamed down from the Daedalus, Derek was down to only yelling at Stiles sixty percent of the time, and twenty percent of their remaining lab shifts were spent giving Stiles looks that he's almost certain were fond. Any smiles Derek is throwing around should be for Stiles, not a dude who’s probably carrying at least ten hidden knives on his person.

Stiles has the kind of past that involves werewolves, but does anyone sympathize with that? Nope. Never mind the fact that nobody but the government is supposed to know about all that—he’d still maybe like a slice of the good pie every once and a while.

Rapp apparently has these sad eyes that always trick Private Hicks into giving him extra pudding.

And make Derek dip his head and laugh softly, Christ.

Stiles's chest tightens.

This is so unfair.

*

Rapp has kind of a reputation for being a crazy, heartless assassin, and it's both hard and easy to remember that when he's got a dude twice his size pinned up against a wall for checking Stiles so hard in the commissary that Stiles clocked his temple against the doorframe.

Rapp says, "Watch yourself, Graves," with his bulging forearm leaning into Grave’s windpipe, and he doesn't let go until Grave's lips tinge blue and he taps him weakly on the wrist.

Then Rapp helps Stiles upright with serious eyes and says, "You're alright, Stilinski," and is it weird that they're the same exact height? That Stiles sees his mother's eyes looking back at him, sees the little tight half-smile his dad always gives him when he's working off a migraine? That's weird, right?

Stiles shakes it off, though, and says, "Thanks, man," and wishes, with all his might, that Derek hadn't seen all that.

Derek, standing behind Rapp, frowning at Stiles like this is all Stiles's fault.

Derek follows him through the food line, hovering like a weirdo until Stiles flails a hand and says, "What?"

"What was that about?" Derek says.

Stiles looks at him, brow furrowed. "What was what about?"

At Derek's glare, Stiles goes on: "Oh, Graves, he's an ass." Isn't that common knowledge? Graves doesn't like Stiles. Graves hasn't liked Stiles since Scott got him stuck on the cleaning crew for tripping him in the hallway when he was struggling with a box full of rocks.  

Derek looks adorably concerned, and Stiles doesn't even think about it before patting his arm lightly and saying, "Don't worry, big guy. He's too afraid that Rapp will murder him now to retaliate."

"I wasn't… I didn't…" Derek flushes, mouth pinched, and then he turns on his heel and stalks away.

*

Stiles spends eighty percent of his time in the geology labs. Mostly because of Derek—he’s a grump, but he’s a hot, adorable grump—but also because the tiny little paleontology nook where he and Greenberg are stationed doesn't have enough room to do basically anything other than write reports. They have two desks squished face-to-face, for maximum annoyance, and a little bent cart with an ancient coffee machine in the corner that doubles as a filing cabinet.

While the number varies between Daedalus runs, currently there are five geologists. There's a big sign on the far wall reminding scientists not to lick alien rocks. There's a giant red geode in the middle of the room with a nametag that reads FRANK.

Any rocks that have fossils get tossed in a big plastic bin, and every Monday morning shift, Stiles sits on the floor with a tablet and deems which ones are worthy of extraction.

Monday morning shifts are the best, because usually it's only him and Derek and sometimes Marni, who listens to music too loud with her earbuds in, and can't hear Stiles's frankly delightful attempts at flirting.

This Monday morning, however, Derek is back to being a full-fledged sourwolf, and arrives at the lab minus Stiles's usual cup of coffee and glares at Stiles's regular Monday morning piles of Maybe, No, and Awesome all over the floor with a faint snarl.

Stiles graciously doesn't comment on the lack of caffeine sharing—it's not like he promised to bring one, it's just that that's their routine, but Stiles isn't going to be a baby about it—and goes back to his bin.

Marni sings if you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends lightly under her breath, a hunk of something starlight navy pressed up close to her nose.

The light clinking of rocks and Derek’s huffy breaths are the only other sound.

The lab doors slide open moments later, and Stiles glances up to see Rapp and his tragic face—he's leaning into the doorframe, holding up a clear plastic bag.

He says, "Hey, Doc—" Stiles makes a face, Doc, ugh, "—as promised, weird lumpy green rock we picked up during yesterday's mission." Rapp holds the bag up, gives it a little shake with a small, quirky smile. He flicks an unreadable look toward Stiles, smile still holding, and then back to Derek again.

Stiles bites his lip and burns hot with jealousy as Derek beams back at him. God.

"Great," Derek says, breathy, and Stiles wants to die.

He could be just excited about the rock, Stiles has seen how the geologists get about alien sediments, but Derek stands there and gazes at the door once Rapp leaves. Stiles would bet all his money that Rapp isn't even interested, he's got the worst kind of love-lost past, but Derek has his thinking face on, and it only falls into a scowl when he notices Stiles looking.

It's pure stupidity and the fact that Stiles wants to prove he's got one up on Rapp that makes him say, "So does Rapp know about—" He makes a growl face and claw hands, because he's an idiot.

Derek stares at him. "What."

"You know," he leans over his bin, glances at Marni to check and make sure she's still bobbing her head to old pop tunes, and says, "werewolves."

He expected maybe an annoyed, pissed off look, or a hissed, "Shut up," but the one thing Stiles does not expect is for Derek to lunge at him.

Stiles says, "Whoa," and scrambles to his feet, knocks over a chair to his left and manages to make it halfway across the room before Derek is on him.

"How do you know that?" Derek growls, twisting a fist into Stiles's shirt and dragging him up close and personal with rapidly sharpening teeth.

"Uh." Stiles winces at the sound of tearing—he's got limited shirts here, god, it's not like he can pop on down to the nearest clothing store for a new one. "I'm best friends with Scott!"

Derek's eyes narrow even further.  "So?"

"So? So! I've been best friends with Scott since we were five. I grew up in Beacon Hills! Please don't eat my face!" Stiles hasn't been afraid of Derek since he proved himself to be the most mild-mannered alpha Stiles has ever known—maybe his scale is a little skewed, since devil alphas were pretty rampant around Beacon Hills growing up, but Derek wears soft sweaters in his off time and talks to rocks.

Stiles has been on Atlantis for six months, though, and apparently Derek Hale hasn't even thought enough about him to check his records and references. Beacon Hills has a goddamn Nemeton.

Derek's grip finally softens, then slips, and Stiles absently checks his shirt seams with a huff, willfully ignoring the heat in his cheeks.

Derek sounds like he's biting a lemon when he finally says, "So you're in Scott's…" he trails off, and Stiles rolls his shoulders.

"In Scott's pack, yeah." What there is of it, at least. Their families and Lydia—there's a distinct lack of wolves, which is why Stiles thinks this stint in Atlantis had so much appeal.  "I mean, you actively recruited him, didn't you think to…" check me out, he doesn't say, because contrary to popular belief he has some self-control.

Someone loudly clears their throat and Derek stiffens and Stiles turns wide eyes on Marni, who has her earbuds hanging around her neck, now, and one eyebrow arched at them. She stands up, hands clutching her coffee cup, and says, "If you guys are gonna have sex in here, maybe give me a heads up next time."

Derek practically trips over his feet to get away from Stiles. "We're not… I mean…" His eyes are sort of insultingly wild when he looks at Stiles, pleading with him to back him up.

Stiles presses his lips together. Deal with THAT, he thinks.

"Sure," Marni says, walking toward the door. "Remember Paul's shift starts at ten."

Derek groans into his hands when it swishes closed behind her. "Why?" he says.

"Why what?" Stiles says stubbornly.

Derek pinks up so damn easily, Stiles is pretty sure he uses the facial hair to help shelter all his delicate emotions. "Why would you let her think that?"

Stiles crosses his arms over his chest. "Is that the pinnacle of embarrassment for you, Hale? That she thinks you're sleeping with me?"

"No, I…" Derek frowns, hunches his shoulders. "This is a sterile environment!"

Sterile is stretching it. Paul spilled soup all over one of the lab tables just yesterday. "Right," Stiles says. "Whatever." He stares down at his half-finished piles. He needs a break. He takes a deep breath and says, "I'm gonna go get coffee."

"Oh, I…" Derek glances over at his own cup on his desk, almost startled, like he didn't realize he hadn't brought one for Stiles, like usual.

Stiles manfully refrains from digging his palms into his eyes in frustration. Has Derek always had this much trouble finishing sentences? How has he not noticed that before?

"I'm going," Stiles says.

Derek visibly deflates, it's so freaking confusing, and Stiles swallows down a groan and leaves.

*

"Okay," Scott says. "But, like, they're not having sex."

Stiles scowls and stabs at his spaghetti with his fork. "You don't know that."

"They don't smell like they're having sex," Scott says, and Jared at the other end of the table scoots back his chair and says, "C'mon guys," with a whine.

Stiles ignores him and says, "They could shower."

Scott, like a bro, taps his nose with a grimace and says, "The nose always knows."

Stiles stuffs a meatball in his mouth and says, "But they're, like, weirdly close, right?" There's just too much standing together, silently smiling at each other for anything to be normal.

"I don't know, I kind of feel like neither of them know how to be regular people, and when you put them together it just… amplifies, you know?"  Scott's eating ice cream for dinner. He still eats like he's sixteen, because he doesn't have to worry about cholesterol, and sometimes Stiles hates him for it. He says, "Did you know that one of Derek's old girlfriends burned almost his entire family alive?"

This sounds like something Stiles should know about, but in fact does not.  He sits back in his chair, stunned. "How did I not know that?"

"Kira told me," Scott says. "She's dating Derek's cousin."

The only thing Stiles knows about Derek's pack here on Atlantis is that most of them had to cycle out for a tour on earth, and that Kira and Isaac stayed. It was supposed to help Scott acclimate, particularly because Kira isn't a wolf.

"Huh," Stiles says, drumming his fingers on the table. "So a sharing of their crap pasts?" That could be a thing. Doesn’t really explain all the palpable pining, though. And the way Derek looks like the moon shines out of Rapp's ass. Ugh.

Scott is nodding, though, and scooping chocolate and peanut butter into his mouth like a five year old at a birthday party.

Stiles says, "All right, buddy. So what should I do now?"

* Clearly six months of subtle wooing have not worked on Derek at all. According to Scott, Stiles really needs to up his game.

Scott's entire romantic life is comprised of a single girl when they were teenagers whose family had honed the craft of killing werewolves, though, so despite Stiles’s complete faith in Scott as a diehard friend and alpha, he's understandably wary of his advice about love.

Stiles knows Derek's lab schedule by heart.  Usually, he carefully plans to be there at the same time just enough to not be totally accused of stalking. He's got a four-day rotating system that repeats only every three weeks, every other month, but since Rapp arrived Stiles is pretty sure he's figured him out.

He's got a scarily blank face when he thinks no one is looking, and winks cheekily at Stiles whenever he catches him out on it. Like they're sharing secrets. Like Stiles can relate.

If Derek wasn't a werewolf, Stiles might be more worried about his well-being than how much sex he's hypothetically having with this handsome sociopath.

Anyway, Stiles has to scramble to reroute some of his geology lab days, which is why he finds himself scrolling through an ancient bestiary in the lab at eight pm on a Thursday with Paul and Junior for company instead of snuggled up with Scott in his room watching The Burbs.

The door is stuck half open because Derek, who is supposed to be off shift for the night, is hovering there with Rapp, whispering. Neither of them seem like the type to whisper like that. It's making the back of Stiles's neck itch.

They probably didn't expect to see him there. Is he making this awkward? Should he just graciously bow out of the way while Derek fucks his heavily muscled doppelganger?  Stiles hates how normal that sounds, he's been stuck in another galaxy with eerie space tech too long.

The main thing that Stiles is going to take away, right now, hunching his shoulders up around his ears, is that Scott was super wrong.

He's concentrating so hard on his Very Important Business—he's looking at birds—that he misses the hiss of the door finally closing, and startles a little when Derek steps over to the station he's currently commandeering and says, "Here."

Stiles glances up to see a weird green rock being held in front of his face. It's a very familiar rock. A gifted rock. Stiles wants no parts of that rock.  He slouches lower in his seat. "No, thanks."

Derek makes a strangled noise, and Stiles looks beyond the rock to his constipated face. "It's for you," he says, like he didn't just try to give it to him, and Stiles didn't just freaking refuse to take it.

Stiles doesn't want Rapp's fucking rock. This is torture.

Derek isn't moving away, though, and finally Stiles huffily snaps on a new pair of latex gloves and reaches up for it. "Is this—" he stops, mouth dropping open, and brings the rock closer. It's big enough to take two hands to hold it, and he spins it in his fingers, swipes thumbs along the tiny, amazing bones along one side and says, words heavy with awe, "Is this a dinosaur?"

"Isn't that your job to figure out?" Derek says, but he sounds so happy with himself that Stiles maybe wants to kiss him.

Really wants to kiss him. Which would be inappropriate, given Rapp and all, so Stiles definitely doesn't do that. For very long.

When he pulls back, Derek has his palms flat on the lab table from where Stiles had pulled him forward, and looks a little like he's been slapped.

"Crap," Stiles says.  He presses his hands over his mouth. "Oh my god, Rapp is going to murder me."

Derek's eyebrows go from popped to deep v and he says, "Why would Mitch murder you?"

"Oh my god," Stiles says, pushing back his chair to stand. He's going to die. "You call him Mitch. He lets you call him Mitch!"

"Are you…" Derek cocks his head. "Is this some kind of…?"

"Oh my god. Finish a damn sentence, Derek!" Stiles rounds the lab table, debates making a run for it, but FRANK is in the way on one side, and the other has Paul, staring at him like he's an alien, and a tray full of rocks.

Derek is bright red. He says, "Hey, you kissed me!"

"Yeah," Stiles shoves his hands in his hair and then rips them out, he's feeling super crazy right now, "and now your assassin boyfriend is going to slit my throat in my sleep!"

Paul snorts, Junior gasps, "NO," like the giant drama-queen he is, and Derek says, "Wait, my what?"

Stiles is still holding the amazing green alien dinosaur rock and would consider whipping it at Derek's dense head if it wasn't as precious to him as a baby.

"I," Stiles announces grandly, "am going to wrap this rock up in blankets and then find some duct work to hide in."

*

In retrospect, hiding in Kira's room was probably a bad idea. Not because she'd rat him out to Rapp, but because she's Derek's beta, and is apparently on his goodnight rounds, which is honestly adorable and makes Stiles want to scream.

Derek says, "Stiles," and Kira flutters her hands and says, "I'll just, uh, slip across the hall for a sec," and flees like a coward.

Stiles pulls the afghan from Kira's couch over his head.

Derek says, "Stiles," again, coming further into the room. "Why do you think I'm…?" The way he crosses his arms makes his biceps bulge—he's a geologist, for god's sake—and he does some sort of half-shrug that Stiles has trouble interpreting.

He silently pulls the afghan further over his head, so he can only see Derek through the quarter-sized holes.

Derek's mouth twitches. "I can still see you, you know."

Maybe if Stiles flattens out completely Derek would think he melted from total embarrassment. The responsible thing to do here, if Derek had any heart, would be to just leave Stiles alone for his last few hours alive.

Kira suddenly pops up behind Derek, peeks around him, looks from Stiles and his blanket to Derek and back again. "Please don't have sex in here," she says, and then she's gone again.

Stiles groans and Derek squares his shoulders and drops his arms.

"Stiles," Derek says for the third time, "I don't know why you think I'm, uh." He rolls his eyes. "For the record, Mitch isn't my boyfriend."

"Okay, so you're fuckbuddies, it doesn't matter. He's still going to kill me." Rapp has Issues and knife skills and has managed to snag a werewolf, why would he want to ever give that up?

"Are you kidding me right now?" Derek never gets screechy. He gets lower, when he's really angry, and has this roar in his voice when he yells, but right then Derek's voice kind of… breaks… in the middle. "Stiles. Mitch and I are friends."

Stiles waits a beat. He shifts, and the afghan slides off his head to puddle on his shoulders. Static crackles through his hair, he's sure he looks fantastic. "With benefits?" he says.

"No," Derek says, slowly taking a step toward him. "Just friends."

Stiles can't believe this. "You realize he's like… me, only dangerous. With extreme hair. And thighs."

Derek's eyebrows look confused. "You have thighs," he says, dropping that bombshell casually like he didn't just admit to looking at Stiles's thighs, wow.  "He's nothing like you."

"Nothing like me," Stiles says.  He comes up on his knees on the couch, watches as Derek moves warily closer. "But I think our mouths match. And our moles. We're talking clone here, not mirror image. You don't think that's weird?"

Derek's only a little taller than him, from where Stiles is kneeling on the couch. Stiles leans into the back cushions, rests his hands on them, lets the afghan fall all the way off to tangle in his feet.

"I don't see it," Derek says, staring into Stiles's eyes like he's mesmerized. "Will you kiss me again?"

"Is this some sort of see with your nose type of thing," Stiles says, heart beating up into his throat, but he's bravely leaning up into Derek's space, and Derek's leaning down.

Derek's hands hover over his upper arms, like he wants to hold him. "Don't make dog jokes."

"Oh my god, it is."

"I hate you."

"No," Stiles says softly, and Derek is definitely sniffing him now; their noses are touching and it's beautiful. "No, I don't think you do."

Derek finally smooths his palms over Stiles's arms, and Stiles reaches out to grip Derek's afterhours soft shirt, a Henley with two buttons undone, there's chest hair, and if Kira wouldn't kill him he'd totally try to wrestle Derek out of it. He tilts his head up, licks his lips, and Derek makes a sound that Stiles will make fun of forever and kisses him.

*

Graves gives Stiles a wide berth in the commissary now, which is gratifying and also wigs him out. He doesn't get how Derek can't see how batshit crazy Rapp can be.

He's maybe a good guy, Stiles honestly doesn't know, but it's just alarming to see Derek sharing a cupcake with him.

Stiles takes his tray over to their table with only a little sliver of envy that dissipates when Rapp says, "Here," and hands him a piece.

"It's Paul's birthday," Derek says, by way of explanation, and then leans over and kisses Stiles with icing all over his mouth.

Stiles is fine with this, beyond fine, but there's a still that tiny part of him that's waiting for Rapp to shoot him between the eyes. When Derek shifts back, though, a small smile and blush on his face, Rapp just winks at him.

It's bizarre and familiar and makes Stiles's skin crawl a little, but he takes it, because apparently Derek and Mitch are best friends. He's Derek's sociopathic wingman. That Derek still doesn't think looks like him.

Stiles isn't going to push him about it, though, because Stiles gets kisses and eventually—fingers-crossed—sex, and it better be true love. It better be till the end of the line with him, because Stiles has a feeling neither his heart nor his body will survive if he somehow fucks this up.

Rapp nudges the piece of cupcake toward him again. This is somehow a metaphor for his life now, probably, but Stiles isn't going to overanalyze it. Anymore.

A tray suddenly clatters onto the table across from Rapp. "Heyyyyy," Scott says, grinning widely. "Oh, cool, birthday cupcake! Are we sharing?"

Stiles says, "Scott, no—" just as he swipes a finger through the icing on the piece in front of Rapp, and everything slows down.

Scott freezes with his hand in the air, like he just realized who's at the table with them. "Oh, shit," he says.

Rapp's eyes narrow.

Scott says, "Sorry?" hunched up like a small, little puppy.

Stiles knows he shouldn’t be worried, because Scott’s an alpha werewolf with sharp teeth, claws, and an enhanced healing ability, but there’s still that flash of panic. Rapp isn’t the flipping tables, throwing grenades kind of dude. He waits.

The look he gives Scott is calculating.

Scott swallows hard and whisper-shouts to Stiles, “Is it bad that that’s turning me on?” before pressing both hands over his mouth.

Rapp grins, slow and wide, pushes the rest of his cupcake over to Scott and says, “Here. Have some more.”

[sotheywrotestories]

Damned and Unrequited  |peter parker x reader| (Chapter Sixteen)

Warnings; Swearing, I kinda ripped my own heart out so...   Series Masterlist Message me if the “Keep Reading” doesn’t work Previously

Listen Here

Peter woke up long before (Y/N) did, just lying there next to her. Just a typical Sunday morning.

His eyes roamed the room, not wanting to appear too creepy, before snagging on the speakers in the corner of the room.

Peter carefully climbed out of bed, shuffling his way over to the speakers. (Y/N) started moving behind him, causing Peter to send a glance over his shoulder.

“Peter?” (Y/N) called, turning to him. “Is it time for me to answer Tony’s questions?”

“No,” Peter shrugged. “I just wanted to listen to some music.”

(Y/N) rolled out of bed, padding her way to Peter. She was in the same clothes as the day before, which were the same clothes from when she was taken.

“Do you want to change?” Peter asked. “I have some sweatpants or something.”

“Oh, um,” (Y/N) played with her tattered sweater paws. “Sure.”

Peter opened the closet (which was big enough for five people to stand in) and led (Y/N) in.

“Here are the sweatpants, um, here are some old sweatshirts,” Peter pointed around. “I’ll wait outside.”

Peter closed the closet door behind him, going back to the speakers. He played his most recent playlist, upbeat music flooding the room.

(Y/N) came out of Peter’s closet with a Midtown sweatshirt and some drawstring sweatpants.

“Is that ‘Footloose’?” (Y/N) asked.

“Yeah,” Peter smiled. “A classic.”

(Y/N) started to bop her head up and down, making her way to Peter.

“Dance with me,” (Y/N) laughed.

Peter shook his head, laughing, but took (Y/N)’s hands anyway.

The two teenagers danced around the room, momentarily forgetting about the problems and questioning at hand. From “Footloose” to “Kryptonite”, they danced.

When Tony walked into the room, he tried his hardest not to disturb them. Everyone needed to remember that these kids were just that. Kids. They didn’t deserve the world that they were given but no one ever has a choice in that.

“Hey,” Tony spoke up three songs later, a slow song playing. “It’s time.”

(Y/N) lifted her head from Peter’s chest.

“Okay, um,” she turned to Peter. “I’ll be back?”

“Yeah, uh, I should call everyone, Savanah, ya know,” Peter smiled.

(Y/N)’s face dropped and Tony dropped his head into his hands.

“Yeah,” (Y/N) falsely smiled. “I’ll see you later, I guess.”

Peter nodded, watching Tony escort (Y/N) out of his room.

Peter answered Ned’s questions on where he found (Y/N) and how she was doing. Then, he called MJ, who promptly told him he would get the information she wanted from (Y/N) herself. (Though Peter wasn’t sure if (Y/N) even owned a phone at the moment.)

Then, Peter called Savanah. He had been trying really hard lately to be there for her. He really wanted the relationship to work.  

They talked for hours on the phone and not once did Peter have the thought to tell Savanah that (Y/N) was safe. That (Y/N) was found.

It just slipped his mind.

By the time the call was over Peter was ready to join the rest of the Avengers in the compound.

“Peter!” Wanda shouted when she saw him. “How was the girl doing?”

“She was good last time I saw her, have you seen her?” Peter asked.

“She went home two hours ago, kid,” Steve spoke up from the kitchen. “We asked the questions we needed to ask and she left.”

Peter frowned.

“But she didn’t say goodbye? Where did she go?” Peter asked.

Steve shrugged and turned to the coffee maker.

“Oh, nice of you to join us, Parker,” Tony strut into the room. “What’s with the long face?”

“Where did (Y/N) go?” Peter asked.

“Home? She left a while ago-“

“Her only home is her dad and he’s a drunk. Did she just-“

“Peter do you really think I just let her go back there? No, we set something up, she’s fine.” Tony’s heavy hand fell onto Peter’s shoulder. “Relax.”

Peter shook his head.

“Then where did she go?” Peter turned to Wanda.

“I wouldn’t know,” Wanda smiled. “You really care for her?”

“Is this the girl the kid’s been talking about for weeks?” Sam asked from the couches.

“No, I think her name was Savanah or something like that,” Natasha said.

“Oh, a player. He really is a mini Tony,” Sam teased.

“No no,” Peter shook his head with a blush on his face. “I don’t like (Y/N) like that.”

“That is not what your thoughts last night said,” Wanda mumbled.

“Oh!” Natasha and Steve laughed.

“Called out by the mind-reader!” Tony laughed. “C’mon, kid. It’s clear to everyone that you like the girl, go get ‘er!”

Peter looked around the room at everyone.

“It’s not that easy,” Peter defended.

Everyone groaned and laughed their attention away.

“Whatever you say, Pete,” Natasha laughed. “But you should consider talking this through with (Y/N).”

“What did you learn?” Peter turned to Tony.

“We learned a little about what he New Saviors are and what their goal is, which, honestly, doesn’t seem to be too malevolent. And we learned that (Y/N) has no clue who either of them were,” Tony shrugged. “Don’t worry about it, kid. She’s safe, now.”

The new day at school was slightly dramatic. More kids than Peter even knew had noticed (Y/N)’s disappearance.

MJ didn’t let anyone near her all day. She even ditched her own classes to stay by (Y/N). And though Ned was nowhere near surprised with how MJ was acting, Peter was caught off guard, to say the least.

“I didn’t know you and (Y/N) were so close,” Peter confessed while waiting for (Y/N) to grab her lunch.

“Peter,” MJ turned towards him. “Where do you think (Y/N) has been staying, lately?”

Peter shut up, waiting for someone (hopefully Ned) to say something.

When (Y/N) finally sat down with a sandwich and some apple slices, Savanah walked up.

“Petey!” Savanah smiled, sitting on the bench and draping herself over Peter’s body.

Peter hesitantly wrapped his arm around Savanah’s waist, placing a kiss on her temple.

Ned looked away with a frown on his face. MJ had a sort of death grip on her fork. But (Y/N) was…fine. Or she seemed fine. It was hard to tell with her.

“So this is the color of my dress,” Savanah pulled out a swatch of fabric. “If you can find a tie, or a bowtie, or like a boutonniere with this color, that’d be great. Also, I hate roses so don’t get me a rose corsage. And,” MJ rolled her eyes. “We have to hang out with my friends.”

“Wait,” Peter pulled back. “What about my friends? We can hang out with both? Ned, MJ, (Y/N), and I were all gonna get Delmar sandwiches before homecoming-“

“Peter if you date me,” Savanah squinted. “You have to hang out with my friends.”

MJ stood up, stalking out of the lunchroom.

“I-um,” (Y/N) clumsily stood up, banging her knees on the table in the process. “I should go…um…get…her.”

The entire time (Y/N) was speaking, Savanah was staring her down.

“No, no, stay,” Savanah grinned. “I want to get to know more about the girl in love with my boyfriend.”

“Um…,” (Y/N)’s face caught fire. “No, I-I don’t love…ah, no. I don’t love Peter. No offense, Peter! You’re really cool! But yeah. No. Peter and I are just friends. I don’t love him like that. Anyway. I should go check on MJ. She is my ride home. Uh, oh!” (Y/N) leaned over the table. “I’m not gonna go…to homecoming. I’m just gonna stay at home so. Have fun!”

Before Peter could interrupt her once, she was chasing after MJ, lugging both backpacks behind her.

“Yeah, MJ and I are gonna stay home, too,” Ned spoke up, clearing his trash. “We might just watch crappy movies. Have fun.”

Peter just had his constants back, even though it was scary to ever count them, he knew life was finally balancing again.

“Oh, good. I’m not a fan of your friends.” Savanah ate one of Peter’s fries.

“That’s not…,” Peter dropped Savanah off his lap. “That’s not what I want. I really like my friends.”

Savanah rolled her eyes, taking Peter’s hands. “Listen. (Y/N) was after you, she’s after my man! So trust me, it’s better you stay away from them.”

Peter waited for Ned to say something before he remembered that Ned already left.

“No…I don’t think that’s right,” Peter frowned.

A fire lit in Savanah’s eyes a second before the bell rung.

“I’ll um- I’ll call you. See if I have a…,” Peter picked up the dress fabric. “Blue tie.”

“It’s navy!” Savanah called after Peter. “Don’t mess this up, Parker!”

But the problem was, Peter thought he already had.

The first place Peter went after school was MJ’s. He ran up the stairs and knocked on the door.

To Peter’s surprise, it was Ned who opened the door.

“Oh, hey, Peter. Come in?” Ned opened the door fully.

Peter thanked Ned and slipped into the apartment.

“(Y/N)?” Peter called.

“She’s not in here.” MJ stood from the couch. “She left a little while ago to go visit her mom.”

“She found her mom?” Peter shouted.

“Peter, oh my god.” Ned groaned and pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. “Go here. You’ll find (Y/N).”

Peter held onto the paper with hesitance.

“Go, Peter,” MJ said with the most emotion Peter had ever seen. “Just, go.”

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