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waka-chan-out · 4 years ago

Note

Hey, it's Fay!

Happy 700 bestie!!!! You know what time it is? Time for your milestone Ushijima fic! (I did take some inspiration from your pet name tag)

You and Ushijima are coworkers. You're not that close. You've got a pretty professional relationship, but he laughs whenever you make a joke and sometimes he'll bring you a drink when he knows you've been working hard.

And yeah, it's no secret, he's extremely handsome. He's solid and well-built under the work shirts that hug tight over his broad chest and shoulders. At the end of the workday, you might catch him with his sleeves rolled up, tie loose, biting his lip in concentration as he looks over some papers. You have a little workplace crush on him, but that's all it is, its never going to come to anything.

You're staying late one day looking over your work for the hundredth time.

"Oh." A deep voice says from the door to your office. "I thought I was the last one here." You look up to see Ushijima, brow furrowed.

You look at the clock on the wall. "Oh, god, it's later than I thought. I'd better get going."

He nods. "I was just leaving. I'll walk with you."

You gather your things and shoot him a smile as you walk past him to the elevators.

"So." He starts. You stop and turn to look at him. "Do you... have dinner plans?"

"Not really, why?"

He runs a hand through his hair in a reflexive gesture. "Well I just- I just thought maybe you and I could grab something to eat."

The two of you step into the elevator and the doors shut on the office. You don't want to make any assumptions. Coworkers got dinner all the time, it didn't have to mean anything. "What did you have in mind?"

He's silent. "I didn't really think it through this far."

That startles a laugh out of you. "Well there's a great pizza place near-"

The elevator jerks and you lose your balance, you fall into Ushijima and the two of you fall to the ground, you on top of him. It doesn't feel very awkward, or even strange. It's a weird thing to thing but you kind of fit like this, in this position. If he notices that you're using him as a mattress he doesn't say anything, he's too busy staring up at the lights, which have gone red. "The elevator stopped."

His eyes flicked back to you and you became increasingly aware that you were lying on top of him. You scrambled to roll off of him so that you were on your back next to him. "Sorry, Ushijima-"

He wraps a large hand around your wrist "Call me Wakatoshi. Please."

"Okay." You turn to smile at him. "Wakatoshi." You pull your phone out of your pocket and hold it above your head. "I've got reception."

The call with emergency services is short and unremarkable, and you come out of it with the news that you're going to have to wait at least an hour.

Ushijima, standing against the back wall,, lets out a dark chuckle, then a switch flips and he's laughing. He laughs with his whole body, his shoulders shake, he throws his head back, revealing the long line of his neck. He's infectious, suddenly the two of you are laughing and you have no idea why.

He's still laughing, he holds out a hand as if to steady himself, and it ends up on your shoulder, you feel the warmth of his touch, the gentleness of his hand. "I'm sorry, its just. I finally get up the courage to ask you to dinner, and you almost say yes. And then the elevator just breaks!"

That sets you off again, you're just thinking about how ridiculous this all is. You're both leaning on each other because you're both laughing too hard to hold yourselves up.

As the laughter winds down, something strikes

"Why did you have to get up the courage to ask me to dinner?" You say, slowly piecing out the answer in your head. Hope rises brightly in your chest.

He looks at you, neither of you have moved away. "I like you. A lot. I think you're amazing, and I know that you probably don't feel the same way, but-"

You grab him by the tie and pull him closer to you, halfway through the motion, he surges forward and your lips meet. He's so gentle. His hands find either side of your face. You tilt your head, press your lips together a little harder and he takes the direction, kissing you a little rougher. You nip at his lower lip and the sound he makes, a low growl, runs down your whole body, you feel it in your fingers, you feel it in your toes, you feel it pooling warmly in your stomach.

The two of you come up for air. Wakatoshi "I'm sorry."

You lean your foreheads together "why the hell would you be sorry for that?"

"This wasn't how I planned it, I was gonna take you to dinner, tell you all about how I felt.

You shrug. "I don't need it. I like you. I really do. Have for a while actually."

"Really?"

You smile. "I can't count how many times I've thought about you, about this. Every time you'd bring me something to drink, or smile when I said something stupid."

"What did you think about?"

"Well, mainly this," you lean up to place a slow, deep kiss on his lips. "And other things."

"What kind of other things?"

"Lots of things." Your hands reach down to unbuckle his belt. "You, earing me out under my desk..." you palm him through his boxers and he gasps. "Ripping those goddamn work shirts off you..."

You feel him hardening under your palm. He clears his throat. "I have. Um. There's a condom in my wallet." He rustles around in his pocket and retrieves it.

You lean your head back and raise an eyebrow as you take the foil square from his fingers. "Hoping for the best this morning?"

He shrugs. "I'm an optimist."

You step back and away from him, he moves to follow but you shake your head and push him backwards. He frowns, confused, but moves where you put him. You lean back against the side wall of the elevator. "Strip."

His eyes go dark with lust, and he wastes no time in ridding himself of his shirt and slacks. He stands there in his boxers.

"All the way."

He pulls them off and his cock springs free, hard and so much bigger than you'd expected.

"Jesus christ." You say before you can stop yourself, and he smiles.

"I know. You don't have to-" he moans into your mouth as you roll the condom on and stroke him slowly.

"Get on your back," you command. "I'm going to ride you, is that alright?"

"Yes!" He clears his throat. "Yes."

Your hand closes tighter around his cock and he whimpers. "Yes...?"

"Yes ma'am."

You could get off on those two words alone. He sits on his discarded clothes and looks up at you, he reaches under your pencil skirt to feel the fabric between your legs. "Oh." He says "you're wet."

He moves the fabric aside to slide a rough but tender finger across your folds.

You gently move his hand away and pull your panties off under your skirt to afford him better access. His hands find your hips, and he rolls up the skirt, leaving your legs bare. "Come here, baby," and he pulls you down toward him.

Together, you line each other up, and when you sink down onto him, you feel like he was made for you. You feel so full. You move apart and then sink together again. "Oh god. Ushi- fuck. You feel so good -toshi, oh!"

You roll your hips and he tosses his head back with a cry. You pick up the pace, and the sound get louder and more intense.

"Toshi," you moan. "I'm close."

His hand comes between you to circle your clit. Your feel yourself clenching around him with a shout, and him bucking up into you, coming, only moments later.

You collapse on to him, letting yourself appreciate how good it feels this time.

"So. That's a yes to dinner?"

You laugh and feel his heartbeat against your chest. "That’s a yes to dinner."

(I hope you enjoyed this! Congrats again!!! You deserve all this and more! (P.s. seeing my name on the masterlist made my heart so happy. I saw it and I thought I was hallucinating. I'm really happy to have made such an impact on you))

FAAAYYYYYYY!!!!!!

i think you can read my mind because i’m such a whore for the coworkers to lovers trope i think i’m going to go insane. and i had to physically set my phone down at that “yes ma’am.” i swear to god you are going to be the death of me.

thank you so much and of course you’re on the list! people (((mostly me!!!!))) have really liked everything you’ve sent in so far and i know i definitely don’t want to lose these so onto the masterlist they go :) god damn. idk what i did to deserve such high quality content in my inbox but i am GRATEFUL.

#ushijima wakatoshi PLEASE COME OVER #fay anon :)#it’s 6:22 am and i need for go back to bed but i had to scream about this before i did #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #ushijima smut #ushijima x reader

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btshodown · 5 years ago

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Tag Game

Tagged by: @joonsrack

Tagging: @hadskye @johobi @crystaljins

(You don’t need to do it unless you want to! I just wasn’t sure on who else to tag huehue TT TT)

:: nickname(s): Kinda, not really? Only like 3 people I know call me Lez.

:: bias: President of the big tiddy committee

:: blood type: A+

:: favourite food: Umm...honestly I can't pick just one. Its between sushi, ramen, caldo de res, cueritos, Korean food....

:: birthday: November 15

:: zodiac: Scorpio baebeee I have it as my sun, rising and Pluto, so the angst is strong in this one folks

:: pronouns: She/Her

:: hair length: Medium length, reaches a little below my shoulder blades

:: height: A normal height of 5′2′’ of course

:: a crush: Um, like a real life person whom I know in my daily life? Then no

:: what do you like about yourself: Not gonna lie fam, I sat here for a good while trying to think of something and I couldn’t

:: left or right handed: Righty

:: list of 3 favourite colours: Blue, Black and Purple

:: (right now) eating: Air

:: (right now) drinking: Bean juice with some heavy cream

:: i’m about to: Perform a concert in my bathroom, pull through

:: listening to: BTS - Black Swan (I really love this song okay, issa BOP)

:: kids: I am kid whatchu mean

:: get married: I actually dream of this okay, like its a legit want of mine

:: recent phone call: It was with my mom like 3 days ago I think. I hate talking on the phone

:: (have u ever) dated someone twice: No? Why would I date someone twice if the first time didn’t work out...

:: been cheated on: In a matter of speaking, yes

:: kissed someone and regretted it: Lmao Hoh yeah. More like they kissed me, but ye

:: lost someone special: Many someones unfortunately

:: been depressed: BEEN? As in past tense? Lmao Its a current thing love

:: been drunk and thrown up: Only once when I first got drunk at 17

:: had glasses or contacts: My blind ass needs both, but I mainly wear contacts

:: had sex on the first date: Uhhh depends on your definition of that phrase. Not gonna get too deep into that

:: broken someone’s heart: I guess? Idk if its considered breaking their heart when he hardly knew me and confessed his undying love

:: turned someone down: I attract a lot of creepos and guy friends who think my friendship meant more, so ye

:: cried when someone died: Who wouldn’t????

:: fallen for a friend: Lmao

:: (in the last year have you) made a new friend: Siiiiiii

:: laughed until u cried: A couple times in my life, but its very hard for people to do that. Mainly its with my bestie who tends to make me snort a lot >:[

:: met someone who changed u: Ye, both good and bad

:: found out who your true friends were: So many times, people can be such two faces. Tis why I have like...2 close friends and my main hoe

:: found out someone was talking about you: Hoooh yeah lmao I tend to have a lot of people who dislike me despite never really talking to them??? Idk shits weird

:: lips or eyes: Lips pls Why do you think I suffer with Joon, Jimin and Jin??

:: hugs or kisses: Depends from who, but besos (kithes)

:: romantic or spontaneous: Por que no los dos?

:: hookup or relationship: Relationship, my Cap Venus and Cancer Moon need it

:: first best friend: Uhh this chick in first grade up until middle school and then I never heard from her again when I moved cities

:: surgery: Never oh wait, does taking out my wisdom teeth count?? Cause they knocked me out and pulled all 4

:: sports i joined: Lmao none, unless you count dance

:: do u believe in yourself: Only when it comes to performance at work

:: miracles: ??? I’ve never experienced a miracle in my life. Unless you count me somehow not killing myself oof

:: love at first sight: Don’t believe in it all. My Scorpio ass takes forever to fall in love and love at first sight doesn’t exist. That’s called lust/infatuation, love takes time boo

:: heaven: Hearing the rain and thunder inside a blanket burrito

:: do u have any pets: My old cow Loui (he’s a dog that has the coloration of a cow)

:: do u want to change your name: Sometimes

:: what did u do for your last birthday: If I remember correctly...I worked and my team bought me Portos and celebrated with the rest of the office staff

:: what time did u wake up today: Its Sunday my dude, so around 9 and then 11 am

:: what were u doing last night at midnight: I was watching Youtube

:: something i can’t wait for: Finding a new job I guess

:: last time u saw your mum: Yesterday when she came back from her trip to Tijuana

:: what is one thing u wish u could change about your life: I can only pick one? Lame, I have too many things I wish I could change

#Tag game #I was going to do this yesterday but its hard on mobile #And I was too lazy to turn on my laptop #So here I am a day later

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cosmic-spoons · 6 years ago

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Lake Brightfall

Okay so this is an odd little fanfic I did as a request on Ao3 but I like it enough to give it a 50 Shades treatment and turn it into it’s own thing. Or...tried to, anyway. Mainly posting this for @aelia-likes-monsters because she deserves more kelpies in her life. (Don’t we all?) Maybe I’ll do more of these, idk.

Characters: M/M, Human x Kelpie

Tags: Light gore, maybe? There’s a severed hand involved but it’s not graphic. Also: puns. Bad ones.

Word count: 4,857

This was it. This was the place where it happened, Marcus was sure of it. Lake Brightfall was exactly how he remembered, from the jagged outline of the rocky shore to the way the gentle wind fanned his face and tousled his hair. He'd run along this exact pier in his nightmares so many times that he felt like he could count the planks from memory. The murky water below was crowded in blooming lily pads, unnervingly similar to the last time Marcus stood here, back when he was still a naive child. That was the last day he had both of his hands.

Marcus didn't remember much about that day. The traumatic experience had since been mostly repressed by his adolescent mind, and not even rigorous therapy could piece together exactly what lead to the loss of his left hand. All he knew was that one moment he was completely fine, just a normal kid who was excited to go to the lake near his home to show off his rock-skipping skills to his baby brother, and the next, he was waking up in the hospital as an amputee.

Nobody else saw what happened. Marcus' father looked away for only a few minutes, heard a blood curdling scream, and then found his eldest son struggling to swim back to shore in red-stained water. Three-year-old Noah was the only witness to the attack, but he was too young to understand what was going on, let alone describe what he'd seen. All they could get out of the confused toddler was the word 'horse.'

Clearly a horse wasn't responsible for that kind of carnage, though. The cut had been incredibly clean, as if by a razor sharp knife, prompting a huge investigation in their small town which shook it to its core. The very idea that there was a sicko capable of mutilating a child in broad daylight had the entire community fearful even to this day, as the culprit had never been caught.

It took a whole decade and a half for Marcus to finally summon the courage to visit this place again. He didn't remember the incident, but there was something about the sight of this lake that made his stomach churn and trigger a panic attack, so he spent the better part of his life avoiding it like the plague. Marcus knew he couldn't run forever, though. The older he got, the more nightmares about that pier he had, and the more he burned to know who – or what – that blurry figure reaching out for him from the bloody water really was.

Or maybe it was nothing. His brain could be trying to fill in the gaps with whatever scenario made the most sense in a senseless situation. He wouldn't be surprised if what little he did remember weren't memories at all, just figments of his imagination gone wild over the years, though he could swear those dreams felt so real...the water was so cold...

Unable to stand not knowing if he could trust his own head or not, Marcus finally decided that enough was enough. He was going to get to the bottom of this once and for all! Maybe if he could recover some real memories, his nightmares would stop. Maybe he could even provide valuable clues that would help catch the fiend who was responsible! Or, at the very least, he could conquer his fear of Lake Brightfall and visit his childhood home again without having to take a double dose of anxiety meds first.

It took several attempts, but eventually, Marcus managed to step onto the very pier that was the symbol of his mental torment and follow it all the way to its end. He came alone, which was probably not a wise idea, but this was an incredibly personal journey for him and he needed to be able to take his time. Nothing could distract him from what he was here to do! It was time to end this chapter of his life and finally-

“Greetings!”

Marcus jolted upright from his meditation by a cheerful voice coming from directly in front of him. What the...how did that voice come from in front of him if he was at the edge of the pier?

“Hay, down here!”

The young man brushed some ginger hair out of his face and looked down at the water to see, to his surprise, a face looking back at him. It was a guy floating on the surface around his age, maybe a year or two older, with eyes as deeply blue as the dark water he'd emerged from and bits of reeds stuck in his long dark ponytail. The hair stuck to his bare shoulders like running ink against tanned skin, and the stranger's friendly smile was toothy and oddly sharp. Marcus was too startled by this person's sudden appearance to do more than stutter out a very confused reply. “U-uh...hello?”

The stranger tilted his head curiously. “You look familiar. Have we met?”

Marcus was pretty sure he would have remembered meeting someone like this before. His narrow face looked almost like it'd been chiseled from stone, like a statue one would find in a museum. There weren't a lot of people as striking as him in this small town. “I don't think so, sorry.”

“Hmmm...no, I definitely know you from somewhere,” the stranger pressed, pursing his lips and rubbing his chin as he looked Marcus up and down.

“Did you go to Brightfall High?”

“Neigh,” the stranger shook his head with a light laugh, like the idea was ridiculous to him. “Have you been to this lake before?”

“Not since I was very young.”

“Huh,” the other shrugged, causing ripples to dart away from his toned shoulders. “Oh well.” What Marcus wanted to know was why the heck this person was swimming at this time of year! It was too early in the spring for a dip in the lake to be any kind of refreshing, yet he didn't seem bothered by the frigid temperature. It gave Marcus goosebumps just looking at him. “What are you doing?”

Nosy, wasn't he? “I was trying to meditate. What are you doing?”

“Greeting you,” the stranger answered, that sharp smile easily slipping back on his face as he folded his arms on the pier right in front of Marcus's crossed legs. Marcus nervously scooted back a few inches with his good hand, keeping his prosthetic one concealed in his jacket's pocket. He wasn't ashamed of his disability, of course, but he was well aware of how easily it drew the eye and would rather not have to answer any questions about it right now. “Greetings!”

“...Yes, um, hello.” From the way the stranger was making himself comfortable, it looked like he planned to stay and chat awhile. Marcus usually tried to stay a lot more approachable in normal circumstances, but this was a time and place where he'd much rather be alone. “Did you need anything?”

“No. Why?”

“I'm sorry, but I'm a little busy right now.”

“With what?”

“Meditating,” Marcus said pointedly, hoping he would get the hint. Unfortunately, the stranger's interest didn't seem to wane at all, looking at him like he expected more explanation. “...Which requires peace and few disturbances.”

“Ah.” Finally, he got the hint. “Okay, I'll leave you to it. It was good to meet you!”

He enthusiastically raised his hand towards Marcus, who eyed it warily. It was the right hand, prompting Marcus to offer his left. Except he didn't have one. It would be rude to refuse the handshake, though, and he wasn't sure how to talk his way out of it, so Marcus had no choice but to take the prosthetic out of his pocket, praying that the other wouldn't ask.

Marcus had no such luck, though. The stranger's eyes widened at the sight of the plastic appendage and was quick to grab at it. He completely missed the hand, though, and latched onto Marcus's wrist with his clammy fingers, lifting the sleeve of his jacket to gape at where skin met plastic. The nerve! “Wha – hey, stop that! It's rude to just grab someone's – wait, what are you – stop!”

The velcro strap around Marcus's wrist was yanked off and his prosthetic hand slipped from his arm and bounced off the pier, landing in the water with a plop. Marcus was horrified to watch it disappear below the surface, and then quickly shifted to outrage. He was about to yell at the stranger for his rudeness and pry him off, but the man with a vice-like grip on his arm and an utterly ecstatic look on his face suddenly lifted higher out of the water, leaning in uncomfortably close to Marcus' face.

“It's you! Marcus! I knew I recognized you!” he laughed. “And your brother, Noah, I remember him, too! You both used to play here when you were little!” Marcus was dumbfounded. Apparently he did know this guy from somehow, but he was less concerned about that and more about the invasion of his personal space. “It's me, Horace! Don't you remember me?”

Marcus wanted to be properly angry at the loss of his property, but those thoughts left him right as the air was suddenly robbed from his lungs at the sound of that name. It triggered something deep in his mind, like a faraway ringing bell in the dead of night.

Horace.

Horace...

Horse.

A feeling of intense dread overcame Marcus just then. The hairs on his arms raised with goosebumps as flashes of memory exploded in his head, glimpses of sensations and sounds straight out of his nightmares. Something round and smooth, a splash, a scream, a voice, the color blue, bright red, cold, pain, pain, paIN, PAIN-

“Marcus?” The man, Horace, tugged on his arm when Marcus's breath started coming quick and shallow. His smile gave way to too-innocent concern. “Are you alright?”

No. No, Marcus was not alright.

“Stay back!” he demanded and yanked himself away from the man, struggling to get to his feet on shaky legs. The blinding fear gripping his chest was indescribable, so much more consuming than it ever had been before, and he desperately staved off hyperventilating until he could flee as far from this place as possible. “G-get away from me!”

“Wait! Why are you running? What's wrong?” Horace called after him, swimming along the side of the pier to give chase. The way he swiftly glided through the water, parting the lily pads in his wake, was noticeably unnatural.

Marcus didn't say anything else to the stranger named Horace. He sprinted across the pier to the beach, half convinced that this was all just another one of his reoccurring nightmares, ran all the way up the hill to the parking lot, and scrambled into his car the moment he reached it. Horace didn't leave the water to follow, thank goodness, so Marcus locked himself in to collapse in his seat and cradle his throbbing phantom limb as he gasped for air.

He didn't know what just happened, but he knew two things for sure: Horace had something to do with why his hand was gone, and he was never coming back to Lake Brightfall ever again.

Marcus went back to Lake Brightfall a few days later.

It turns out there was only one thing that scared him more than crippling childhood trauma: the price of a new prosthetic. They weren't cheap! Marcus was already paying off enough loans from college and he'd like to be debt-free sometime this century. That being said, it's not like returning to the lake was an easy feat. Noah had to drive him there or Marcus would keep 'accidentally' missing the turn-off, which spoke leagues to how much Marcus didn't want to do this, seeing how he usually refused to let his little brother drive him anywhere while he still only had a permit.

Marcus spent the entire time trying to convince himself that everything would be fine. He wasn't alone this time and that man probably wouldn't be there so early in the morning. The bright colors of dawn were a minor distraction from the nerves that were making his foot tap like a jackhammer and pale fingers pry at the hem of his jacket.

He didn't tell Noah about Horace yet. For some reason he could hardly even think about the man without triggering another awful episode, so he opted to deal with that in therapy later and first focus on getting his hand back. His nightmares had been getting worse ever since that surreal encounter and he was starting to think that maybe he shouldn't have tried uncovering his missing memories at all. Perhaps his brain had a good reason to repress them.

“Alright, we're here,” Noah said as he parked the car on the hill overlooking the lake, his voice softer than usual. For once he was actually being considerate towards his brother on this touchy subject and refrained from ragging on him for his irrational fear. Marcus really must have been a mess. The lake stretched out wide in front of the elder brother's eyes, like a giant looking down on an ant, and he took a deep steadying breath and readied himself to leave the car.

The air was chilly and strangely still as they walked along the path towards the pier. It was so unassuming this way, surrounded by lily pads and reflecting the colorful sky on its calm surface. If Marcus weren't so terrified of this place, then he would have thought it was a scene worthy of a calendar. He stopped in his tracks as the two approached the wooden posts that anchored the old pier to the shore, but Noah kept going, turning around to throw him a raised eyebrow.

“Hurry up. You didn't drag me out of bed at 6:30am on a Saturday just to stand there, did you?”

Marcus shook his head and swallowed the lump in his throat. Carefully, he stepped onto the pier and watched the water around him for any sign of movement. He couldn't properly explain it, but there was an invisible itch in the back of his head, like the sixth sense of being watched...

“Okay, so where did you drop it?” Noah asked, eyes narrowed at the water, searching for any sign of the plastic hand through the gloom He wasn't looking anywhere near the right place, though.

“Over there,” Marcus answered, pointing to the very end of the dock where the water was significantly deeper, and Noah followed his finger with a groan.

“Are you serious? You dropped it all the way out there?! Shit, I thought it was just going to be in the shallows or something!”

Marcus's throat was too tight to chastise his brother for his for his foul language. “This is why we brought the fishing line...”

“Yeah, but it's gonna be ten times harder to hook it when we can't even see it that far down! Ugh, hold on, I'm gonna see if I can find a big ass stick or something. Maybe if we poke around first we'll find it.”

Noah walked back to shore and Marcus begrudgingly stayed put. He stood in the middle of the path and tried to do some of his meditation exercises while he waited, calming himself as best he could as he stood alone in the one place in the world he would rather not be. The silence was unnerving. It was so quiet that he could hear his own heart beating, which is why when he heard the soft sloshing of water behind him, he nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Marcus!”

Marcus's thumping heart jumped to his throat as he whirled around to find, to his shock, the same sharp-toothed smile from before climbing out of the water and onto the pier. Why the heck was he still here?! Marcus unwillingly got a much better look at him now, and he discovered that Horace was well over six feet tall as he stood up at his full height, built with a strong swimmer's physique, and bits of uprooted lily pad clung to his shamelessly bare body. What had Marcus letting out a terrified scream, though, was how the man's legs were bent in all the wrong places, ending in a set of hooves.

Hooves.

Oh god, this couldn't be happening! There was no way this was real! It was just a nightmare, Marcus told himself, and he willed himself to wake up with every fiber of his being. He didn't, though, and he jumped when Horace stepped forward, clacking loudly on the wooden deck.

“Don't be scared, it's only me! I'm so glad you came back! I have something for you.”

Horace was holding something out to him in his hands, but Marcus was too busy running in the opposite direction to see what it was. It didn't take him long to reach the end of the pier, though, leaving him trapped between the deceptively calm water and the approaching creature. “No – no, don't come any closer!” Marcus pleaded with short breath. Every ascending clip-clop sent an arrow of panic through his chest, but Horace completely ignored his distress with a perturbing smile.

“But I need to give this back to you! I've been keeping it safe for so long.” Horace motioned to the thing he was holding. “Don't you want it back?”

He was close enough now that Marcus could better see what he was carrying, but Marcus was too freaked out to know what he was looking at. Was that his prosthetic? No...Marcus's prosthetic was much larger than that. This one was small, more like...

...Like a child's hand.

“I always expected you to come back for it, but you never did. Do you know how hard it was for me to get it back? Not to mention how tough it was to keep it in such good condition!” He turned it around, proudly showing the pristine dismembered limb off, not a trace of rot or blood, and Marcus' stomach churned. That was...that was really his hand?! “Lucky for you, my magic is exceptionally strong!” That was Marcus' real long lost hand. “Here, let me put it back on for you! ...Marcus?”

The world was spinning as Marcus's mind reeled at the gruesome sight. A flood of sensations filled his head, making his lungs burn with the need for air he couldn't seem to find. Or maybe that burning was coming from the swirling memories he was reliving, the desperate gasping, the pressure of cold water, the sounds of splashing and screaming, his own screaming, blinding terror, sharp teeth, pain, fading light...

Marcus didn't know he was falling until the chill of water consumed him. Even then, he could barely feel it as his overwhelmed consciousnesses slipped away, and the last thing he was aware of before he fainted was a familiar shadowy figure silhouetted against the surface reaching for him...

For once, Marcus didn't dream. He was drawn from a void of empty darkness by the sound of voices talking far away...wait, no, they were actually nearby, and they were both familiar. One was far more familiar than the other, and it didn't take long to recognize the sarcastic tone as Noah. It took longer to figure out what they were saying.

“...othing? Not even me?”

“Nope.”

“Ah...that explains a lot, actually. I'm not surprised that you don't remember, since you were so young at the time, but I thought for sure Marcus would! No wonder he ran away.”

“That, and you're a naked freak with horse legs.”

“I told you, I'm a kelpie.”

Marcus felt damp and heavy, like his body was made of lead, and it took considerable effort just to open his eyes. When he did, he saw the roof of his own car above him, and he discovered he was in the passenger seat reclining back as far as it would go. The fan of his car's heater droned in the background as he looked around and found his brother sitting beside him in the driver's seat, turned around towards the one he was talking to, who must have been sitting in the backseat. Marcus coughed, his throat feeling like sandpaper, and the sound made the other two stop talking. Noah bent over and tapped on his cheek.

“Fucking finally! Hey, you soggy idiot, are you okay?”

“Uh...I don't...know,” Marcus answered blearily. “What's going on?”

“You fainted,” came the quick reply from the other familiar voice behind him, and when Marcus turned his head, he found that Horace was the one in the backseat behind the driver's side, voice dripping with worry and blue eyes full of guilt. “It's all my fault, I'm so sorry, Marcus! I didn't mean to scare you, I just didn't know that you don't remember the day we met.”

“Huh...?”

“Slow down, Seabiscuit. He's still coming to.”

It took a minute for Marcus to remember what happened right before he fainted. When he did, a sudden rush of adrenaline had him shooting upright in fresh panic. “N-Noah, what on earth is he doing here?!”

“Woah, easy!” Noah grabbed his shoulders when Marcus swayed, a bought of dizziness hitting him from having gotten up way too fast. “Calm down, everything is fine! Horace is the one who dragged your ass out of the lake!”

“He's the one who cut off my hand!!” Marcus cried, pointing an accusing finger at the person – the thing sitting in his backseat with his jacket laying tastefully over its hairy lap. It took a second to realize why everyone had gone still and was staring at him so weirdly. The finger he was using, it was...

It was on his left.

Marcus sucked in a shuddering breath as he drew it back and gingerly inspected his left hand. This wasn't...it was...this had to be a mistake. He was dreaming again, there was no way this was real! But no, the more he flexed his fingers, felt the warmth of his skin, and traced the lines of his palm, the more he couldn't deny how incredibly real it felt.

“Marcus,” Noah said his name carefully, patting his bewildered brother's arm. “Listen to me, Marcus, breathe. In and out. It's okay, you're okay, and yes, this is real. That's actually your hand, apparently.”

Marcus had no words. He didn't know what to say, or even what to think! There were no scars, no marks, it's as if he'd never lost it in the first place. But that's impossible, people don't just grow back their limbs! Especially after more then a decade! Oh god, Marcus was going to faint again.

“Would you allow me to explain?” Horace asked quietly. He was fidgeting where he sat, hooves tapping against each other on the floor and lips drawn into a thin nervous line. “I swear to you, it was all a terrible accident!”

Marcus didn't think he had a choice. After all these years, after everything that happened, all of those nightmares, the episodes, and now this, he was going to go clinically insane if he didn't get some answers right flipping now. He wordlessly nodded, and Horace started from the beginning.

“We met on the day you lost your hand. I saw you on the dock with your brother, and you were trying to show him how to skip stones. I thought it was magic! I really wanted to learn how to do it, too, so I approached you, and you agreed to teach me.”

...

Something round and smooth

...

“You didn't seem to care about what I am. I mean, you were obviously curious and you asked a lot of questions, but you didn't run away or call me a monster.” A smile returned to Horace' face, barely a twitch in the corner of his lips, but it was clear by the warm look on his face that that this memory meant more to him than he was letting on. “You let me play with you and your brother. We were competing to see who could skip stones the furthest, and I picked up the skill pretty fast. You were trying to beat my record when...”

…

A splash

…

“Your rock accidentally hit another kelpie in the lake. Ah, um, that's what I am, by the way,” Horace informed, gesturing to his legs. “The other kelpie was older than me, and he was much bigger, and stronger, too. And angry. He grabbed you by the hand and tried to drown you.”

…

A scream

Blinding terror

Fading light

…

“I tried to get him to let you go, but it was no use! Once a kelpie has you, it's impossible to get away.”

…

A voice

The color blue

'Don't worry, Marcus, I'll save you!'

…

“There's only one thing I could do: I had to take off your hand before you reached the bottom of the lake, or you would be lost forever.”

…

Bright red

Cold

Pain.

…

“...So you...you did it to save me,” Marcus whispered as the pieces finally began to fit together. He still didn't remember all of it, and there was no way to know for sure if what Horace was saying was the truth, but for the first time, everything was beginning to make some sense. A strange sense of calm was settling over him now, like a peace he hadn't known in a very long time.

Horace nodded, beaming at Marcus proudly. “Exactly! I was so scared when the humans took you away. I never knew for sure if you lived, but I never gave up hope, and here you are! I'm so glad you came back, I've been waiting all this time to return your hand back to you!”

The kelpie reached out and touched Marcus' left hand, cupping it in his own, and gave it a small squeeze. Marcus just stared, still trying to digest all of this. It was unbelievable. The hand Horace was holding out to him at the lake had been child sized, but it seemed to have grown to match the right one after Horace...uh...re-attached it? He had no idea how that worked, but this was a mythical creature he was talking to, so anything seemed possible at this point. Magic? He decided not to let himself go down that existential rabbit hole for now and just focus on how entirely grateful he was for this gift, and he looked up at Horace with tears in his eyes.

“Thank you,” was all he could manage to get past the lump in his throat. “Thank you so much, Horace, a-and I'm so sorry I was so scared, I didn't realize...!”

“Don't be,” Horace shook his head with a light laugh. “Admittedly, I was being a bit of an ass.”

His long black tail that matched his hair flicked cheekily at the pun, and it brought a smile to Marcus's lips. There was no way to describe the amount of relief he was feeling, the years and years of uncertainty releasing from him in an instant. All thanks to Horace, who had saved his life twice now. Marcus didn't have the foggiest clue of how he could repay him.

“Uh, so, not to ruin the moment, but...” Noah cleared his throat, which reminded them that Horace was still holding his hand, and he awkwardly let go. “What the piss fucking christ are we going to tell Dad?”

Oh. Right. “Language, Noah. And I'm not sure. This isn't very easily explained, is it?”

“That's the understatement of the century. 'Hey Dad, Marcus got his hand back! A magical horse man who lives in the lake gave it back to him!' He'd probably think Horace is a demon or some shit and try to exorcise him.”

That was sadly an accurate prediction of what their incredibly religious father's reaction would be. He was a priest, after all, and something told Marcus he wouldn't take well to Horace's magical existence. “Perhaps we should tell him it was an angel?” Marcus suggested half-jokingly. Horace's shoulders tensed, his eyes suddenly going wide and cheeks flushing, clearly flustered by the sudden compliment. “I would say it's not entirely inaccurate.”

“O-oh, um...oh my.” The kelpie in the backseat rubbed the back of his neck and looked away bashfully. Marcus smirked. To think he'd been afraid of this guy only minutes ago, and now he was starting to think he was kind of cute like this.

“Oh god,” his little brother rolled his eyes and turned away. “I know he's your knight in literally no armor, but try to keep it in your pants, Marcus.”

“Noah!”

ummmm like comment and subscribe?? idfk thanks for reading though

#how do i tag #kelpie #my writing #monster romance

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sleepyracha · 6 years ago

Text

22 questions

tagged by @witchylixie and I think another person but my memory is horrible and I have too many notes

01. name: Thianny

02. nicknames: marie, T

03. star sign: leo sun, pisces moon, and libra rising

04. gender: female

05. sexuality: bisexual

06. favorite colors: purple, orange, green

07. time: 12:03 AM

08. normal amount of sleep: 3-6 hours?

09. last thing I searched: muji gel pen 0.5

10. # of blankets: right now? two. but all together? too many

11. favorite fictional character: Tony Stark

12. what i’m currently wearing: basketball shorts with a tank top

13. favorite book: Three Dark Crowns by Kendare Blake

14. favorite artist: stray kids, twice, sabrina claudio, dreamcatcher, the rose, exid, nct, crush, mamamoo (i’ll stop here because I can go on and on)

15. dream job: obstetrician or an elementary school teacher

16. # of followers: just over 1k (not sure why)

17. when did you join tumblr: like 2013-2014?

18. what do you post about: mainly stray kids, some imagines here and there and other groups I like

19. what made you get an account: well I wanted a place where I could express my love for kpop and twitter and ig aren’t my cup of tea so I decided to open up another blog back in 2018

20. when did you blog reach its peak: um idk

21. do you get daily asks: no

22. why did you choose your url: someone was giving away urls and i needed to change mine to match my new found love for stray kids and I thought it was really cute

tagging: @wooboludo @jinniesmeow

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thephantomofthe-internet · 7 years ago

Text

Ebrius (Eros p.t. 9)

Billy Hargrove x Reader, Jonathan Byers x Reader (Unrequited)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

Word Count: 5043

Warnings: swearing, underage drinking, sexuality? idk on that one

Permanent Tag List: @hotstuffhargrove @steveharringtonofficial @denimjacketkisses @flamehairedwritings @hargroovin

Series Tag: @hargrovesgoldilocks @xicarcalii @wtf-richarddd @sighsophiia @baebee35 @ijustwantahugfromtennant @rhyxn @wearemightyghosts @toriasaysso @random-stupid-stuffs @so-not-hotmess @warsintothestars @lilmissperfectlyimperfect @angellastor @swangobsessed

Feedback Appreciated!

One the eve of Valerie’s epic bash, the whole school was aflutter with excitement, building a chaotic energy you’d never really felt apart of until now. Now, you felt what everyone else was feeling. And you weren’t into it.

Sure, it was kind of exciting-you weren’t usually personally invited to these sorts of things, and Valerie was making sure you felt as included as possible, especially when Billy was around. But it was also kind of tiring, the whole thing was looking to be a social nightmare and Valerie was hyping it up to be full on rager, which only made you nervous rather than excited.

“So anyway, here’s what I’m thinking-you come over to my place around four tomorrow, bring all your stuff, and we’ll make you into a glamour queen, alright?” Valerie asked that lunch, leaning over the table on her elbows, her legs pulled under her.

“Um sure, if that’s what you want.” You replied, fiddling with your baby carrots.

“And you,” she turned to Billy “You better show up on time, I don’t want you up showing me at my own party, you’ll make your entrance with me, alright?” she instructed, jabbing a finger into his chest.

Billy smirked, slinking an arm around her waist and pulling her tightly to him, looking down at her with a passion so bright and hot it could rival the sun. “Whatever you say baby…” he muttered, grabbing her by the chin and pulling her lips roughly to his. He looked desperate and needy, which made perfect sense seeing as how she’d been skirting his advances for weeks.

Billy had confided in you that it went beyond lunch periods. According to him, she’d been ignoring his calls and cancelling plans for weeks, meaning he hadn’t gotten any except from his right hand, which was nowhere near as good as it would be from Valerie. He was tense and irritable, which made him a nuisance to be around. But Valerie softened him, even when she wasn’t putting out.

“Bill!” she cried “You’re gonna mess up my lipstick!” Billy rolled his eyes, turning his attention to her bare neck, peppering it with kisses and bites until she pushed him off with a scoff and an eye roll, looking to you as though you’d understand. You put a spoonful of yogurt into your mouth, making a face that felt like it agreed with hers.

Billy turned back to you, grumbling to himself under his breath about being bored. You let your eyes wander, around the room and they landed on a tiny boy who was staring at you. He was a junior, skinny and pale and hopelessly gawking. At first you were flattered, you smiled, raising your eyebrows at him. But he didn’t react at all. It took a moment to realize that he wasn’t looking at you, he was staring at Valerie. And Valerie was staring back, equally awestruck and shy.

He was looking at Valerie. And Valerie was looking back. This could be a recipe for trouble.

On Friday afternoon, right after lunch, Valerie dragged you out of the cafeteria by the arm, her nails digging into your arm so hard you swore it would bruise you, and out to your car.

“You brought your stuff, right?” she asked, pulling open your side door and climbing in.

“No, I didn’t think I’d be leaving now, I thought I was meeting you at your place later.” You replied, following suit.

“Well I decided that we’d need more time. Stop at your place on the way.” Valerie replied shortly, crossing her arms over her chest, annoyed.

“Where do you live?” you asked nervously. You knew Valerie was rich, her dad was like a high powered lawyer and her mother was the youngest, most babied of a rich family. If your instincts were right, you and she lived in different subsections of Hawkins.

“1545 Autumn Road, why?” she replied. You sighed; your instincts were very correct.

“You and I live in opposite directions, I live up near Billy.” You replied.

Valerie’s eyes narrowed “I don’t know where that is, I’ve never been to his place.” She said.

“Oh, well I live up near Melvald’s, so we’ll have to head up that way first, is that alright?” you asked.

Valerie nodded, examining her nails “Sure, I have to pick up an order there anyway, we’ll stop in after you get your stuff, alright?” she said. You nodded, turning on the ignition and backing out of the full parking lot.

Bringing Valerie to your house was nerve wracking. You hadn’t had anyone over since your mom first got sick. Now, not only did you have someone stopping at your house, she didn’t know what was happening. You drove slowly, abiding all the laws you’d usually ignore. You could tell Valerie was more than a little annoyed, but she didn’t say anything.

When you pulled into your driveway, the embarrassment hit you like a flour bomb in the face. The planters your father had insisted would help your mother get out of the house, which had failed spectacularly and been abandoned on the front porch. The lawn was uncut and brown, mainly because you hadn’t done it and nobody else would. The American flag hanging over the garage was tattered on the end, dirty, and faded. You looked dirty and trashy. Still, you took a breath and held your head high, turning to Valerie “I’ll just be a second, alright?”

She unbuckled her seatbelt, smiling sweetly “I’ll come in, if you don’t mind.” She replied, opening her door, not waiting for an answer.

You sighed, following her quickly. You hoped your mother was asleep or otherwise distracted. You unlocked the door, stepping over the threshold into the dark, suddenly infinitely more dusty entry way.

“I’ll just head upstairs, make yourself at home.” You said, rushing up the stairs and into your room.

“Y/N? Is that you?” a weak voice called. Your mother was peeking out of her room, still clad in her floral housedress, dirty from not being changed in days.

“Yeah mom, just grabbing some stuff!” you called back, grabbing the untouched bags and shoving them onto your wrists, nearly tripping over the pile of books in the corner by your closet, cursing your lack of space. “I’m, ugh, going out tonight, I won’t be home till late, okay? Tell dad not to worry.”

“Hi, Mrs. Y/L/N!” Valerie called from downstairs, her voice sickeningly polite. And you swore you heard her gasp, which made your heart drop. You burst out of your room as you saw your mother inch down the stairs, running her fingers through her grey streaked, uncombed hair.

“Hello? Did I hear someone down here?” she asked, her voice finding a cheery, false tone.

Valerie turned, placing the chipped, dusty bird figurine back into the ring of clean table it occupied, covering it. “Oh hello, I’m Valerie you must be Mrs. Y/L/N, it’s lovely to meet you.” She said with a fake smile.

It was like watching a car crash. Your mother was five seconds from disassociating or bursting into tears and Valerie was already taking notes on how to destroy you if she needed to.

“Oh, please call me Marie, all of Y/N’s friends do. I haven’t heard of you before, you must be new.” She replied, reaching out a pale, shaky hand to shake hers.

“Well yeah, I’m Billy’s girlfriend.” She replied, taking hers and shaking it roughly.

“Who?” your mother asked, turning to you, growing more and more embarrassed by the moment.

You stepped onto the step above hers, placing a hand on her shoulders, squeezing it reassuringly “Remember, Billy ma? I mentioned him last night, he’s my buddy from history class.” You said, smiling softly.

“Oh, right…yes I remember…” she said vaguely.

“Can I borrow your gold hoops?” you asked, already leading her upstairs. She nodded again and you turned to Valerie, holding up your index finger, mouthing ‘one minute’.

You led her into her room and to her bed, opening up the ruffled sheets and allowing her to get in again, warm tears flowing down her face.

“You did really good, mama…” you whispered, pulling the blankets up again.

“You’re embarrassed of me…” she muttered, looking up with you angry eyes.

“No, I’m not, mom. I love you and I want you to meet my friends, but not when you’re not ready, when you don’t know it’s happening.” You replied firmly, grabbing the remote and flicking the channel off of Soap and onto the news.

“You’re ashamed of me…you hate me…” you mother mumbled.

“I don’t hate you, I love you mom, I honestly do.” You said, kissing your forehead “You know I love you. I have to go, but you should call daddy, maybe he can come home and sit with you for awhile, would you like that?”

She nodded vaguely and you rushed to pick up the phone, dialling the number you knew off by heart. He picked up on the first ring.

“Hello?” he asked nervously when the call was patched over to him.

“Hi dad, how’s work?” you asked, smiling at your mother.

“What’s going on, why are you home?” he asked nervously.

“Oh, I just stopped in, nothing major.” You replied, turning away to mumble into the receiver “I think we might have a situation here, I have to go back to school, can you come home, make sure she stays okay.”

“Yes, of course, I’ll be there in five.” He said.

“Okay, should I stay or…” you asked.

“No, no, head back, don’t miss class.” He said. You nodded, saying quick goodbyes and kissing your mother on the forehead again, promising that your father was on his way. You ran down the stairs, grabbing Valerie by the arm and pulling her out the door.

“Is she alright?” Valerie asked.

“Fine.” You snapped pulling open the door and turning on the ignition, backing out quickly, causing Valerie’s body to slap the back of the seat. You arrived at Melvald’s in less than five minutes.

“Wait here.” She said and you didn’t push to follow behind, you much preferred the silence. You felt your body decompress, stress oozing from your pores. She returned a few moments later, but by then you were back to functioning, worry playing like static in the very back of your mind. You drove normally to Valerie’s house, returning to your normal state again.

Valerie’s house was huge, a near mansion with fake marble and too much white to feel appropriate for a crazy high school party. Valerie led you upstairs to her room, a giant space painted light purple and coated in posters and art. She had a giant, plush mattress and a big vanity fit for a Broadway theatre, complete with the big white blubs as its border. You dropped your bags on her bed and she put hers on the vanity, pulling out its contents.

The box of at-home perm made your skin crawl.

“Okay, so the first thing we’re gonna do is perm your hair.” Valerie said, grabbing the box and heading towards the bathroom attached to her room.

“Oh ugh I don’t know…” you replied, your feet sticking to the floor as though it was flypaper.

“If you hate it, a shower will destroy it. Let’s just try, okay?” she said comfortingly and you nodded, swallowing your fear and walking in, sitting in the chair she’d set up for you.

The process took over an hour. First, your hair was soaked and dried a bit before being combed out. Then, she rolled your hair into wide rollers, securing them on your head. Then your hair was coated in perm solution, which stunk like chemicals and burned your nose. You felt the headache forming the second the tight rollers were secured in your hair and the smell only made it worse. It didn’t help that Valerie had started talking once you sat down and hadn’t stopped.

When it was finally time, she forced your head under the shower head, rinsing it for three minutes. She dried it with the hair dyer and then applied the neutralizer, which had to sit for ten minutes and smelt vaguely like coconuts. Then again under the shower head, dried, and the rods were removed.

And when it was all done, you looked like Shirley fucking Temple.

You sighed “See? I look awful…”

Valerie rolled her eyes “We’re not gonna leave it this way, duh!” she said. You looked up at her with a quirked brow, making her eyes widen “You didn’t know that?” she shook your head, making her gasp. “Oh my God! I can totally teach you how to make this look hot! Let’s give it a bit of time to relax, you can help me get the this place safe for a party, Jodie and Carol are coming over to set up later, but we need to move all the breakable shit before they get here.

And so you spent the afternoon hiding expensive vases and paintings that could be easily splashed or knocked down. You rolled up the white rugs and locked away the fine china. When you were finished, the house looked ready to party and you felt a tiny bit sweaty.

Valerie pulled you back into her room, and after much digging through bags and her closet, she pulled a clean white tank top from her closet and the tiny, pleated yellow skirt from your bags. She covered you in a robe and pulled you back into the bathroom.

“Okay, so nobody wear’s a perm the way in comes out naturally, we always style them. So what you’re gonna do is take a round brush or a teasing comb and tease the curls out to make them bigger, then spray it with hairspray to hold it. I like the Farrah Fawcett spray, because it adds and holds volume, but you can find whatever you like once you figure out what works for you.” She explained, making your curls into big, ratty waves that framed your face and made you look like an extra in a Madonna video. But you liked it. It made you feel older and more mature, like you were actually pretty.

“I taught Steve Harrington the same thing when he grew out his hair, he owes his flawless hair to me.” Valerie said cockily and you giggled at the idea of King Steve in your place, nervous and awkward and not nearly as handsome as he wanted to be.

“Alright and we’re done! You look better already, Y/N.” she said and you found yourself nodding along with her. It was almost seven now and while you hadn’t eaten yet, you found that you weren’t hungry. You were excited, which was a rarity for these types of parties.

“Let’s paint your face.” She said, leading you back out into her bedroom and sitting down at her vanity.

Of course, she did her own face first, leaving you to sit bored on her bed. So now you were sitting in Vicki’s pastel purple bedroom on her memory foam bed, watching her at her vanity mirror, the bed white theatrical bulbs that surrounded the mirror casting harsh light on your face as she painted on her bright makeup, smirking at her reflection.

“So what are we gonna do to your face, Y/N?” she asked, brushing sharp angles on blush on her cheeks.

“Oh I don’t know, something simple. I don’t think I could ever rock the colours you do.” You replied smoothly, watching her puff up like a peacock. You didn’t have the heart to tell her that she looked like wild parrot instead of the Cyndi Lauper inspired makeup she was going for.

“Oh come on! Live a little! I promise I’ll try to tone it down a bit for you, can we compromise to that?” she asked, pursing her lips to apply rich purple lipstick.

You sighed “Alright, but I demand a veto in case I hate it.” You agreed and Valerie squealed, pulling you into the chair and turning it to hide you from the mirror. She spent another hour painted you into some sort of beauty queen and by the time she was done, Billy was knocking on the door, Jodie and Carol making a ruckus in the downstairs area.

“You decent?” Billy called, bounding up the stairs.

Valerie chuckled “We’re covered up if that’s what you mean.” She replied. Billy pushed the door open, and as usual your heart skipped a beat, your eyes involuntarily flicked to the closed door.

“Now don’t look into the mirror until I say so, okay, I want it to be a surprise.” She whispered as Billy knocked on the door. Valerie opened it quickly, revealing herself and opening her arms, pulling him to her and allowing him to thoroughly mess up her lipstick.

“Happy birthday baby.” He whispered against her lips and she smirked, covering his eyes with her tiny hand “What’re you doing, babe?” he muttered, a smirk spreading across his face.

She led him forward, gesturing you to stand up straighter and when he was in position, she screamed “Ta dah!”, pulling her hand off his eyes and revealed your dolled up self. After hours of Valerie poking and prodding you, you’d transformed into a new person from the top of your perm to your sparkly pointed heels.

Billy didn’t like it.

His stare burned into you as he looked you over, trying to decipher what exactly made him cringe so much. It wasn’t that you looked bad, you always looked pretty and Valerie certainly didn’t make you look bad, but it looked off. It was as though he was staring into the uncanny valley-everything was technically right but something was off and it made it all look wrong. Then, it hit him. You looked like Valerie. She’d painted you into her twin.

“What, is it that bad?” you asked awkwardly, your smile slipping just a little.

“You look good, kid.” He said gruffly , slapping your shoulder. You stumbled just a little, unsure how to react.

“Thanks…” you muttered, stepping forward to finally look at yourself.

You looked…wrong. No wonder why Billy looked so startled by you. Caked in colours and draped in skimpy fabrics, you felt different. But, despite Billy’s reaction, it felt good, even right. You liked the way it looked, you felt more adult and certainly prettier than normal. You wouldn’t do it every day, but a night like tonight it felt fitting.

Valerie’s mood dropped significantly, watching you two shuffle about. You looked shakily confident, like a deer taking its first steps. You were an innocent, painted into someone’s personal Lolita, desperate for some acknowledgement. But Billy looked sick to his stomach looking at you. It was as though his world was flipped upside down.

He looked to Valerie, his eyes training over her, but he didn’t feel the same burning, unstoppable lust. He felt empty, hollow inside. His brain started to run wild, filled with intrusive thoughts. Suddenly, Valerie seemed less wonderful, less rare. He started to question if Valerie really was special. But that was crazy-Billy loved Valerie. He loved her. Sure, he hadn’t told her yet, but he planned to. All of this was just caused by his never ending horniness, which Valerie hadn’t been helping much with.

“You did a great job, babe.” Billy said, kissing her on the cheek, an arm slinking around her bare mid-drift. “You finally made Y/N look like a girl.”

You huffed, rolling your eyes, trying to muffle a tiny smile that pulled at the corners of your mouth. Billy was happy, he like the way you looked, he wasn’t horrified by the change that you were still getting used to. Billy was the only person you were trying to impress and you’d succeeded.

“Oh hush, Bill, you’re gonna hurt her feelings.” Valerie groaned, turning to you “You look incredible, Y/N, Byers will finally realize what he missed out on when he sees you.”

“Freak Byers is coming tonight?” Billy growled.

“Probably, Nancy Wheeler is gonna be here, Luce told me that her and Stacy were talking about it in calc.” Valerie replied easily.

“Y/N, stay away from him, alright? He’s only gonna fuck with your head and you deserve better.” He snapped, pointing at you.

You rolled you eyes “Val, you should’ve never taken him to see Sixteen Candles, now he thinks I’m some desperate, clingy crazy loser played by Molly Ringwald.” You chuckled, earning a laugh from her and a scoff from Billy, who refused to look at you. “I’m fine, okay? I’m over him, I’m happy for Nance, and I won’t be talking to him if he shows tonight, which is highly unlikely. According to Nancy, his baby brother’s sick. I doubt he’d come to this when he could be there with him.”

Billy had zoned out, but when you stopped talking he nodded, shoving a cigarette in his mouth. Valerie snatched it from his lips, pocketing it. “No smoking in my room! You know that!” she exclaimed. Billy rolled his eyes, heading for the door.

“We should head down there, this shit’s about to start.” Valerie said with a sigh, leading you out of the room. Carol and Jodie had started the music and found the liquor.

Upon seeing you, both Carol and Jodie seemed utterly shocked by your new look. They seemed almost proud of you, finally finding your footing after years of being an ugly duckling. Now, you were a swan.

It almost felt nice.

By ten thirty, the whole house was blasting. Teenagers were crawling everywhere, inebriated and sloppy. The giant living was filled with people dancing to whatever pop hits Carol had decided suited the event. There were plastic cups and spilled drinks everywhere, the floor was horribly sticking. Every corner was filled with people drunkenly making out and groping one another. You felt oddly alone.

You’d noticed the other sore thumbs. Tina Presley, the usual centre of attention, was playing wallflower, watching the crowds with sad eyes, her crush of the week, Anthony Michaels, was dancing with Lucy Pierce instead of her. Carol and Tommy had gotten into one of their epic fights, because Tommy was tonguing Amanda Pearson and got caught. Steve Harrington had shown up, his face broken up with cuts and bruises, both eyes ringed with deep purple and blue. He looked to be mostly having fun, drinking heavily and grinding on Vicki Matthews like it was his job. He seemed to have lost the last bits of his inhibitions, trying to drink away some memory and nearly getting into a scuffle with Billy upon running into one another. He looked broken, but trying to overcompensate with easy fun. If you two actually tolerated one another, you would’ve gone over to check on him.

You’d spent most of the night thus far dancing like you actually knew how. Your proverbial dance card had been full all night, being grabbed by different girls to giggle and jump around and finding different boys junk pressed against your front or behind. It was fun, you felt wanted which was an odd, exhilarating feeling that rushed through your veins and filled you with adrenaline.

You’d been watching Nancy subtly out of the corner of your eye, mainly because Stacy wasn’t. She, just like Steve, had decided to drink herself into a stupor and now was fighting with Jonathan, who was distressingly sober, and he wasn’t fighting back.

Suddenly, Nancy pushed away from Jonathan, breaking through the crowd and grabbing Steve by the face, kissing him like his life depended on it. He seemed shocked, hell you felt shocked. But as Steve kissed her back, Jonathan just sighed, turning away from her.

And you found yourself following behind him.

“Jonathan! Wait up!” you called, causing his to look back just for a moment, his sadness breaking apart his face as you caught up to him and brought him outside, sitting with him on the front porch.

“Y/N…” Jonathan muttered, looking away from you, his gaze dropping to his hands, folded in his lap.

“What the fuck was that?” you muttered breathlessly “I thought they broke up, I thought you two…”

“So did I…” he replied. “I think she is just afraid of change, I mean it’s been a lot for her, after all of this semester has been rough on us.”

“That’s not an excuse…” you replied “Look, Nancy told me that your brother is sick, if that means that Nancy needs to cheat on you to cope, then she’s not a good person.”

“Steve…must be comforting to her or something…” he replied, shaking his head.

You leaned in, taking his hand in yours. “You don’t have to make excuses for her.” You told him. He finally looked at you, nodding softly. You held his gaze for a moment and you swore you saw a flash in his eyes. You’d heard Steve call it ‘the electricity’, but all you felt was an odd emptiness. His eyes flicked to your lips and you felt your breath catch in your throat. Before you could really react, his lips were on yours.

It was a lot softer than kissing Billy, definitely more tentative. You didn’t have much experience in the field, but this was definitely nice. A bit dull, but as you moved closer to him, pressing your hand onto his thigh, you felt oddly at peace. It wasn’t bad, it wasn’t earth stopping-you could easily do this for the rest of the night.

“Byers!” someone snapped, making Jonathan pull away and you groan. Billy had found you. “Go and find your own fucking girlfriend, leave Y/N alone.” He growled and Jonathan rolled his eyes, pushing himself up and brushing off his jeans.

“I’ll see you around, Y/N.” he muttered with a soft smile and you nodded, watching him go. Billy rolled his eyes, motioning for you to follow him back inside, which you did with a tight frown.

“I thought you weren’t gonna see him tonight.” Billy growled, not looking at you as he spoke.

“Changed my mind.” You replied coarsely “Go bug someone else for awhile, yeah?”

Billy scoffed, but marched off, finding Valerie and planted the biggest, most over the top kiss on her. For a split second, you swore he was doing it to bother you, but then the weight of your insignificance hit you and you found yourself slinking away, finding another drink and another dance partner.

Billy couldn’t stand seeing you kiss Byers; it put a fire in the pit of his stomach and made him want to punch out the wiry kid. You were too good for him. God, you were too good for him. You were loving and sweet and fiery and fun and he was an utter loser. You deserved someone fun, someone who wouldn’t use you when things didn’t go his way. When he kissed Valerie, he was trying to expel that anger, that excess fire. But all it did was annoy him. He watched you walk away. He noticed the way Valerie didn’t look at him, instead out into the crowd for a set of bright green eyes he’d only seen briefly before they darted away.

The party was about as fun as you expected it to be. You watched in silent heartache as Billy and Valerie danced all night, hips grinding into each other with excited, lust filled eyes. Valerie was having a great birthday, but you were sick of celebrating. You tried to have fun, you danced with whatever boy would ask, grinding your hips to rhythms that the boys never stuck with. You were out of sync and utterly bored.

The night stayed that way for awhile. Billy and Valerie danced and swapped spit and drank and you danced and drank. You kissed Richie Swanson, but it wasn’t as nice as kissing Jonathan, filled with mashing gums and banging teeth. You tried to find him, but somehow both he and Nancy had disappeared and Steve was back to dancing with Vicki Matthews.

Then, disaster struck.

Somebody called the cops. Suddenly, the music was shut off and everyone was being rushed out, trying to escape before Chief Hopper could bust in and ruin anything. Billy was sent upstairs to wait for Valerie to finish clearing things up with the cops, but he insisted on sitting with you until your taxi showed up to drive you home.

You were drunker than you’d like to admit, but then again so was Billy. Sitting in the dimly lit kitchen, amber beer bottles in between you, you felt calm, happy even. The fact that he’d chosen you over tipsy, horny Valerie felt like a win in your favour. Neither of you needed to talk, drinking in comfortable silence. Everything was warm and soft, like a duvet cover, and you wanted nothing more than to snuggle into it.

“Hey, Y/N?” Billy muttered, his head lulling to look at you, his motor skills lessened by alcohol. He looked utterly beautiful in the yellow light of the wood paneled kitchen, which made your heart ache. Even now, even when he’d spent a whole night driving nails into your heart, you couldn’t help but feel lighter looking at him.

“Yeah?” you replied, bringing the bottle back up to your lips. You absolutely hated beer, but it was cool and gave you courage, two promising aspects.

“I love you, you know that? You’re my best friend…” he slurred, smiling sloppily. Your heart filled with joy, a smile spreading across your face. He loved you. He loved you. He loved you. You kept repeating it over and over in your head, your heart racing loudly in your ears.

You wanted to kiss him, to hug him, to press him up against the nearest wall and have your way with him. But that second part- the ‘You’re my best friend’ part- that was holding you back. He loved you, sure, but he didn’t want you. Not like you wanted him.

With a sigh, you nodded “I know Bee, I love you too…” you replied, knowing that he’d never love you the way you loved him.

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spideychelle-romanogers · 8 years ago

Text

How Hard I’m Trying To (Repost)

Can’t Keep My Hands To Myself - Part 1

Peter finally realizes his girlfriend has an amazing ass.

A/N: Okay, let me explain. Basically, I was thinking about how people obsess over Tom Holland’s ass but tbh when I see Zendaya’s ass, I’m of the opinion that it’s like “Tom who? idk her”. So to say that Peter Parker is not an ass man is inherently bad for society. And thus this series was born. (Reposting because it wouldn’t show up on the tag.)

Tags: Spideychelle, smut || Masterlist || T/W: explicit content, nsfw

Peter did not have wandering eyes. It was a habit he never learned to begin with. His mother was very involved as a parent, as was Aunt May, and he was pretty sure if anyone killed that habit before it could ever start, it was them.

On the other hand, he was a feminist and also, you know, not a pig.

So he never really got the concept of checking anyone out. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand the appeal, he just couldn’t imagine doing that to a real person.

It translated to all things, really, between knowing the abuses of the porn industry and watching too many sad stripper movies on Lifetime after May fell asleep, Peter basically just learned to avert his eyes in all situations.

Also in his defense, he only ever had one real girlfriend in his life and he’d be cutting her short if he focused too long on how beautiful she was, especially when she had so many other qualities to focus on.

So Peter was basically sheltered to the point where after the year it took him to admit his feelings to Michelle, and the year it took for them to start sleeping together, he still felt uncomfortable staring at her for too long, even during sex.

It was a habit Michelle still hadn’t picked up on.

Peter always knew he was a little clueless but it never really came up. Michelle was new to the whole concept, except she was always very blatant about her own female gaze.

Actually it was a little embarrassing. Michelle was almost a little too easy about discussing Peter’s body. Every time a joke at his expense ended on a positive note about his ass, he turned tomato red until the conversation ended.

And Peter is very stubborn to clarify, it’s not that he doesn’t love sex. Or Michelle’s body. He couldn’t find words for either mainly because he’d rather choke than discuss it, but he enjoyed both more than he could say.

It was all just very embarrassing for him to think about in the first place.

Ned and Flash made fun of him enough times for him to pick up that his level of sexual cluelessness was odd for someone who wasn’t a virgin. So long as Michelle didn’t notice, though, Peter was comfortable ignoring them. That is, until they were mid-session in his room and Michelle introduced an idea.

After crying out for the third time since they started, Peter could tell something was wrong. He’d heard something about her falling during gym class. When he asked, she just wanted to pretend it was fine. She finally pulled away when she tried to arch her back and stopped midway.

“Do we need to stop?” Peter asked. Michelle shook her head.

“My back is just killing me. It’s fine.”

“We have to stop if it’s hurting you.”

“No, no. I’ll just turn around.” Peter didn’t ask, but she could read the confusion on his face. “What?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like….I’ll just turn around.” She didn’t know what was so surprising to him but he still looked entirely unsettled. Michelle figured maybe he was joking but the longer the staring match lasted, the more she lost hope.

“….Seriously?” she asked, genuinely lost. “Peter.”

“I’ve, uh, I’ve never done that before,” he said, his voice shrinking.

“It’s not brain surgery, Peter.”

“I don’t want to mess up,” he answered cautiously.

Michelle was surprised, but Peter could only be relieved she wasn’t laughing at him. “Just trust me?” she asked. He nodded.

When she turned over, Peter wasn’t quite sure why he felt so nervous but his anxiety amped up when he saw her lie on her stomach and arch up again.

“Shit.”

“What?” Michelle asked.

“Nothing,” he said, his voice a little high.

Peter’s whole body was screaming for him to stop staring say something but he didn’t really feel in control for the moment. “Peter?” Michelle chimed. He was just lucky she wasn’t looking back. Trying to find his voice and stop lamenting the modest clothes Michelle wore that kept him from this realization, he croaked out, “um, what now?”

"That part’s pretty obvious, Peter.”

“Right.” He winced, knowing he must have sounded like an idiot. Ghosting his hand over her, he didn’t really know where to grab her. He had half an impulse to ask but he’d risked too much of whatever reputation he had left with her.

Lightly putting a hand on the lowest part of her spine, he very gently avoided touching her….there.

And he refused to register the issue because he wanted to maintain denial of his current predicament. If Michelle even so much as turned, she’d catch him, and he was doing his very best to stop himself from saying anything.

“Peter, if you’re not comfortable, we don’t have t-”

“No!” he piped up too loudly.

Deciding anything was better than moving from this very spot, Peter tried to get his focus together just long enough. Swallowing his nerves, he lined himself up and held his breath as though he was about to do something dire. Holding her at her back for balance, Peter lightly pushed in, never admitting to himself he had his eyes down to watch himself enter.

Judging by Michelle’s sigh, she didn’t notice but Peter felt embarrassed of himself. He was probably also blushing but he was grateful he couldn’t feel it with everything else going on. Trying not to watch her ass crash against him was perhaps the greatest exercise in self-control he’d ever challenged himself with. It was just in the way her entire body moved for every thrust.

Peter was holding his eyes shut as he felt Michelle move beneath him, matching his pace easily as she rocked against him. With every move her breathing would get more labored. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until Michelle interrupted his thoughts.

“Are you okay?” she asked, slowing down. Peter grabbed her sides and kept their pace desperately. She gasped and lowered herself onto her elbows, changing the sensation for both of them. Peter’s breaths were short as he grabbed her thighs hard to pull her against him. He was careful at first, waiting until Michelle started moaning to continue. His grip was tight on her as he looked down again to watch her ass slap against him as he willed himself to go deeper each time.

It occurred to him that it was getting rough. Before he could worry long, Michelle cried out. “Are you okay?” he checked calmly, knowing it didn’t sound like she was hurt.

Michelle turned to look at him over her shoulder and before she could say much, her jaw loosened, her mouth hanging open just a little as she held back another moan. Peter didn’t wait to hear what she was going to say, not with a view like that. As he continued, she finally found her words.

“Harder,” it was barely a whisper but Peter could not have heard her more clearly. He’d been asked for plenty in their time together, but never that. Maybe ‘faster’, maybe 'more’, but never 'harder’. Biting his lip as he watched her face, he practically growled when she arched back into him while rolling her hips. Remembering himself, he leaned forward and met her eyes as he gently kissed whatever parts of her back he could reach.

With a faint smile, she turned forward as Peter changed his grip on her thighs. He saw Michelle reach a hand underneath herself and he moaned. Just thinking about her touching herself made him more determined to grant her request.

Moving his hands to her waist instead, he took on a new pace as he gripped her tight, waiting for a reaction. She didn’t protest. His grip turned a little rough at her sides as he relentlessly pulled her to him, but he kept an eye out for any sign of problems. Instead, she met him with no resistance and unintelligible moans that he reciprocated when he wasn’t burying his head into her shoulder. His hands made their way down until they were on her hips.

As he propped himself up again, he shamelessly watched her hips pumping his length. He found himself daring to slide his fingers back a bit to grab her by the ass.

“Peter!” Though his initial reaction was worry, he realized it was a warning as she frantically sought out more friction before she collapsed further on the bed, her knees going weak. One of his hands moved to help prop her up but his thrusts only became more intense as he tried to catch up with her as she violently fell over the edge.

Licking his lips, Peter didn’t really know what sparked this behavior but as he got more bold, the hand on her hip just squeezed her ass as he gently lowered his hips to follow hers down as he used the momentum to go deeper. “Fuck,” he cursed under his breath as he realized he had no time left. He barely managed to put out a hand so he could hover over her as he rode out his orgasm, the other hand still trained on her ass with a hard grip.

As his breathing readjusted, he could barely hear Michelle speak between deep breaths. “What was that?”

“What was what?” he asked when he found the air.

“You know, a few minutes ago, you had no idea what I was talking about?”

“And?”

“That’s just not a normal first time performance.”

“Thanks?”

“I’m almost annoyed.”

“Yeah, what else is new?” Peter laughed boyishly as he pulled himself up off of her and tried his best to clean up. She turned to watch him, her eyes narrowed.

“What happened?”

Climbing back into the bed, Peter smiled to himself as he joined her. “You’re going to laugh at me.”

“Probably.”

“I….well, I may…..not have, I guess, seen how you look from certain angles.”

Michelle just blinked. He could see her trying to do the math in her head without a full conclusion. “…Thank you?”

Pulling her in closer to him by her hips, Peter met her eyes and smiled for a moment before kissing her, one of his hands slowly, cheekily, moving further down as he praised his new discovery.

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goshdarnitjay · 8 years ago

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Oh, I wasn't looking for a ficlet, just fandom support because it's ruined my mood the last two days but um: Alex trying to sneak a pet into their apartment (for whatever reason)? Thank you!

yeah idk why people like to shit on kalex so much it makes no sense to me whatsoever. but i also never see any of that, because i dont follow anyone who hates on the ship and I avoid the tags like the plague haha

Here’s the ficlet. Let’s see what i can come up with

Having a girlfriend whose eyes were capable of x-ray vision was a pretty raw deal when it came to sneaking gifts and secret packages into the apartment. Alex had learned that lesson when she was still a teenager and she’d tried to give Kara a CD for her first Earth birthday. The excitement of it all had triggered Kara’s x-ray vision, causing her to inadvertently have a look at all the presents the Danvers family had gotten for her before her birthday had even arrived.

And that wouldn’t be the last time Kara would abuse that power for evil.

Mainly to wind up Alex.

So the only way for Alex to get her girlfriend anything without her knowledge was to make sure that she wasn’t home whenever Alex sneaked something in. But that wasn’t an easy endeavor either, because they spent so much of their time together. Whenever Kara was out as Supergirl, Alex was usually by her side - or waiting to be called in. Those moments weren’t exactly prime opportunities to smuggle presents anywhere.

And since they shared a group of friends as well, Alex rarely managed to convince Kara to go out without her.

Thankfully, since Winn had started working at the DEO, he and Alex had become somewhat closer (not that she’d have admitted that to anyone - even at gunpoint). Today, that shift in relationship had paid off well for her.

Kara was out with Winn at the arcade, and Alex had a good two hours to smuggle her girlfriend’s gift into their shared apartment.

She moved swiftly, holding the large crate she was carrying close as she stealthily made her way up the driveway of their building. A part of her was worried that she’d end up running into Kara after all. She wouldn’t put it past her girlfriend to sense something was off and come back to investigate - Alex only trusted Winn’s ability to lie up to a point.

Once she’d made it to the elevator, Alex let out a small breath of relief. She was almost there. And once the crate was inside, nothing else mattered.

She didn’t want to see Kara’s face at having caught her again. Honestly, she’d seen enough of that in her life. Every time Kara discovered her trying to be sneakily romantic, she gave Alex that look.

The look that said Alex was sweet for trying, but that Kara’s superior senses made the whole thing sort of futile.

And Alex simply wouldn’t stand for that.

When she left the elevator, there was a small yipping sound from the crate and Alex gently shushed its inhabitant. Sometimes, Kara liked to stop and find Alex’s heartbeat in the city to calm herself - and if she heard anything suspicious or even vaguely dangerous, she’d be there in a second. Alex simply couldn’t have that.

The door to their apartment was already within view and Alex took a few more quick steps forward. Almost there now.

Almost there.

She’d just bent over to set down the crate so she could get her key, when the door opened in front of her, revealing a smiling Kara.

“Hey!” she said, barely reacting to Alex’s frosty expression.

Straightening back up, Alex pressed her hands harder against the crate.

Goddamn it.

Goddamn it all to hell.

Another present ruined.

“What are you doing home?” Alex asked, trying not to sound too hostile as she shouldered her way past Kara and into the apartment. It didn’t even matter that the crate was lined with lead and would therefore stop Kara from seeing inside. The fact that Kara had caught her with the damn thing had already fucked everything up. Looking around, Alex glared at the empty space of their home. “Where’s Winn?”

“Oh, James called. Some emergency with the Guardian outfit.” Kara closed the door behind Alex and followed after her, clearly intrigued. “Are you okay? What’s in the box?”

Grumbling quietly to herself, Alex set down the crate and crossed her arms over her chest.

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” she growled, feeling the annoyance bubble up in her chest when Kara got that look again. “Don’t look at me like that! The surprise would have totally worked if it hadn’t been for Winn! He was supposed to distract you.”

Smiling softly, Kara joined Alex by the couch and wrapped her arms around Alex’s waist.

A tender kiss was placed on Alex’s lips.

“You’re sweet,” she whispered, nosing gently at Alex’s cheek. “If you want, I can pretend to fly in?” More kisses were pressed against Alex’s face, wandering all the way from her forehead down to her chin. For a couple of seconds, Alex closed her eyes and enjoyed the attention.

“No...” Alex murmured, dropping her arms and pulling Kara into a more insistent kiss. “It’s fine. Just open it.” Disentangling herself from Kara’s embrace, Alex fell down on the couch and stared expentantly at Kara, who stared down at the crate. She was no doubt trying to use her x-ray vision, and looked pleasantly surprised after all when she couldn’t see the contents.

“Lead casing. Nice touch,” she said approvingly, getting down to her knees and unscrewing the lid of the crate.

Even though her plans had been foiled, Alex enjoyed the sight of Kara’s excited face as she pulled the crate open expectantly.

The scream she let out was even better.

“Oh my god! Alex!” she exclaimed, reaching into the crate and pulling out the tiny, white puppy that had been thumping its tail up and down from the moment the box had been opened. “Is this what I think it is?”

“If you think this is a Kryptonian dog I created for you out of the remnants of DNA we recovered from your pod, then yes,” Alex confirmed, reaching out to scratch their new dog behind his ears. “Do you like him?”

Instead of answering verbally, Kara pressed the puppy to her chest with one hand while she pulled Alex into an earth-shattering kiss that made Alex see stars. Her lips were insistent and firm and Alex almost forgot that there was a tiny animal squashed in between them, happily barking and licking at Kara’s chin.

“I love him. And I love you. Thank you so much,” Kara breathed, pulling back to inspect the puppy more closely. “He looks just like Krypto.” Next, Kara nuzzled the dog’s forehead, before kissing his nose.

“I mean, he is, technically.” Alex was still feeling pretty dazed from the amazing kiss, and she slowly leaned back until she was stretched out fully on the couch. “I’m glad you approve.”

“I guess that means we’re moms,” Kara said dreamily, sitting down squarely on Alex’s lap and bouncing the little puppy up and down in her hands, making it yip and bark in excitement.

While Kara continued to talk to the dog, Alex placed her hands behind her head and closed her eyes.

Even if the whole thing didn’t exactly go according to plan, at least Kara was happy.

And that was the most important thing.

Fin.

#kalex #kara x alex #alex x kara #kara danvers #alex danvers #hope it cheers you up!#personal #Jay Talks to People #Jay Answers Asks #anonymous #anon #Jay Writes #my fanfiction #cbs supergirl #Anonymous

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