Please interpret Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus
It’s the motto of Hogwarts! It means ‘never tickle a sleeping dragon’
Please interpret Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus
It’s the motto of Hogwarts! It means ‘never tickle a sleeping dragon’
HP anon! I hope you and your wife are well! So I might move to another country to live permanently. Toss up between Canada and England.
HP anon! It’s been so long! How are you? We’re both good 😊 Lena is fully grown now and has such a huge personality for such a small dog!
Moving to another country is huge! What made you narrow down to those two countries? I’m obviously biased towards the UK 😂 @jazzfordshire probably has a few things to say about Canada!
The other day, I wondered how the world of Harry Potter would be different if all students were sorted every year, rather than only in their first. So I wrote this.
Little is changed from Harry Potter’s first year at Hogwarts. Still he sits under that hat, thinking, not Slytherin; still the Hat considers his potential before sending him to Gryffindor. Still he is joined in Gryffindor by Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, still the Slytherin he so feared to be in will hold Draco Malfoy. Little is different about the placement of the older students, for all the Sorting Ceremony is made longer, and the Hat’s song a little changed, with their participation. Fred and George Weasley, like their younger brother, are still in Gryffindor. Ambitious Percy Weasley may be in Slytherin by now, maybe not yet, but he is a Prefect regardless. Oliver Wood or someone like him will still be Harry’s first Quidditch Captain.
In Harry’s second year, he and Ron are in more trouble than ever for missing the Sorting Ceremony. Now the Hat must be got out again to Sort these two boys who have caused such a stir, to confirm what surprises no one: both will remain in Gryffindor this year. (This time, Harry is once again thinking his wishes to the Hat, but instead of not Slytherin, he is pleading, Gryffindor, Gryffindor – picturing the warm Gryffindor common room that is the first home he has ever known, the first place that has welcomed him rather than shut him away. The hat, once again, obeys his wishes.) Both boys are relieved to find their House much the same as they left it; Hermione Granger is in their midst again, joined by Ron’s shy little sister Ginny.
Neville Longbottom, who had been plagued throughout his first year in Gryffindor by doubt as to his right to be there, is with them again, too. They missed his silent drama at the Ceremony, too, as the boy sat under the Hat that could see into his mind and reflected on the end of term. He had remembered standing up to the three classmates he thought he could call his friends, only to be left behind – hexed, as he so often was, ridiculed. More proof that he did not belong in the brave House. But he remembered, too, Dumbledore’s voice at the end-of-year feast – praising him for doing what was hard. He remembered being awarded House points for this simple act, and with the meagre sum, winning Gryffindor the House Cup. That heady feeling of being, for just one moment, a celebrated hero – that was like nothing else. That was worth a year and more of self-doubt. So Neville now unpacked his bags in the Gryffindor dormitories again, and, like Harry, he felt for the first time that he was home.
Harry has grown complacent, all his friends staying with him from his first year to his second. He hears the warnings of the older students on his Quidditch team (some of whom go from one House’s team to the next from year to year), the reminders that he will need to make new friends soon, but he does not really believe them. He cannot imagine his world changing even more than it has.
This is why he feels as though his stomach has dropped out of his body, as though he has fallen into some bottomless pit, when things change in his third year. He is still in Gryffindor, yes, and still with Ron, thank goodness for that, but Hermione Granger is no longer of their House. Hermione, who spent the last term of her second year as a statue, whose research was the only part of her that got to be a part of the battle in the Chamber of Secrets, who scrambled and sweated when she was unpetrified to pass all her courses in the remaining days of term – despite the promises of the administration that classes missed by the basilisk’s victims would not be held against their grades. Hermione, who had been called an “insufferable know-it-all” so many times that it had almost stopped hurting, who had felt so frustrated with the cavalier attitude her fellow Gryffindors took to classwork. She was now a Ravenclaw, the blue insignia on her robes matching that of Ginny Weasley, who seemed to have shrunk in on herself after the events of last term. (Ginny, like Harry in his first year, sat under the Hat in her second year thinking not Slytherin, not Slytherin, but then she had paused, and thought, not Gryffindor, too, because Riddle had possessed her despite her red-and-gold robes, and because she did not feel brave.)
Ginny, Hermione, and Luna Lovegood (here is one girl the Hat cannot imagine placing anywhere but Ravenclaw, though it will surprise itself in years to come) soon find each other in the Ravenclaw common room, and form an odd, but tight, bond over the first few weeks of term. Hermione finds that it is nice to have close friends who are girls; she never had this in her two years in Gryffindor. She still finds time to talk to Harry, to help him with an essay in the library or to keep him company on restless Hogsmeade weekends or to walk with him to Hagrid’s hut. They are still friends, and good ones; no disparity of House can change the bond forged in fighting a mountain troll together, and all they have been through together since.
She explains this, at last, to Ron Weasley in the days before Christmas vacation, when the dark looks he has been sending her all term finally come to a head in a shouting match outside the Divination tower. Ron, too quick to view matters in black and white, had seen her Ravenclaw badge as a betrayal, a defection. Had imagined that this was her choice, rather than the honest assessment of the Hat. Had felt left behind, discarded, second-rate, dismissed like his brothers’ hand-me-down robes that he wore. With Harry to remind him not to be an ass, to remind Hermione that Ron was always like this, they made up soon enough. Hermione laughed and called Ron an idiot, but fondly; and he laughed back, and told her that the blue and silver only made her look more the nerd. The trio were reunited, even if they were in different houses.
And, after that fight at least, perhaps the difference of house was a blessing in disguise. Crookshanks could not worry at Ron’s rat when they lived in different common rooms. There was no fight between Ron and Hermione about their pets; when Scabbers went missing, there was no talk of foul play, only an agreement between the three friends that they would try to find him. The three were still present in the Shrieking Shack, two Gryffindor children and one Ravenclaw, to bear witness to the true identity of Scabbers, to bear witness to the reunion of the three living Marauders. They still saved Buckbeak; they still lost Pettigrew.
supergirlcw There’s no Luthor like Lena Luthor.
Sooooooo... anyone at Clexacon?
Your wife changes her hair color every season and her personality adjusts slightly. You’re secretly only in love with Autumn wife. She just came home sporting her Winter color.
it’s my fault. it’s just that when we met it was autumn; her red-orange hair and crackling laughter. there’s a little spooky in her, a lot of play. and what a better time for falling?
i didn’t realize it for the first few years - something shifting, something so subtle. the winter makes us all cold, the summer makes us all a little out of our minds. i just loved her, because she was incredible, and i was the luckiest person alive.
it’s just that i realized that spring came with sudden bursts of cold. it’s just that summer frequently raged in with fire sprouting from her lips. it’s just that winter was the worst of all, her eyes dead. it’s just that autumn loves me different; throws herself into it without the clingy sweat of summer. i used to love that summer girl, you know? i loved how wild she was, the way in summer she took every risk she could. but i carried her home drunk one too many times, cleaned up one too many of the messes she made for no reason than to enjoy the sensation of burning. and winter was worse; the shutdown, the isolation. how she became distant, a blizzard, caught up in her own head, unable to tell me what was wrong and unable to think i actually wanted to listen.
she comes home, her hair bleached white. a dark smile on her lips. the shadowy parts of her are back. they loom like icicles overhead. she kisses me with her body held at a distance, a peck on my cheek that feels like an iceberg. she makes polite conversation and we go to bed early, our bodies untouching.
it is a lonely season, i think on the ninth day of this. winter is cold. winter is known for the death of things. when i look at her, i see the girl i fell for, inhabited by an alien. she was the first women i loved so much i felt it would kill me. i can’t leave. when i wake her up with my crying, she tells me to shush and go back to sleep. she’s different like this, quiet, doesn’t eat.
three days later i stare at myself in the mirror. i wonder if it’s me. if the fat on my body or something in my face or the wrinkles and she doesn’t love me. i try prettier lingerie, lean cuisine, i try different hair, more makeup, try harder. it doesn’t work. she looks at me the same; that empty gaze that neither loves nor condemns my actions.
somewhere in februrary i lose it. we’re fighting again, from car to restaurant to car to home again. we fight about stupid things, small things; i tell her i feel she doesn’t love me, she says i’m not listening. the circle goes around and around, old pain peeling back, new pain unhealing. i sleep on the couch.
i wake up when i hear her crying, white hair around her all messed up. the kind of sobbing that only comes at two in the morning, heavy and thick and hurting. my winter girl. my heart is breaking. she looks up at me like i’m her anchor. “i’m sorry i’m like this,” she says. and i start saying, it’s okay i’m here we’re married, but she just shakes her head and says, “I know this isn’t the real me.”
i hold her cold hand. she stares at the blankets. “i am different in winter,” she whispers, “i know i am and i’m sorry.” she looks at me. “why do you think i dye my hair? cut it off? get rid of the old me?”
i tell her it’s okay. we’re together and it’s okay, and then she whispers, “i’m sorry you married four of me.”
we lay there like that, her head on my chest. she falls asleep. i stare at the ceiling, thinking of the way she sounded when she was crying. how i helped put her in that pain. how i promised in sickness and in health and everything in between.
the next day i spend at the library. there aren’t enough books on how to love someone with seasonal affective disorder so i make my own, notes and pages and little ideas on post-its. and i take a deep breath and make myself a promise.
she comes home to her favorite dinner and we kiss and she’s uneasy but that’s okay. the next day i bring home flowers and the next day she finds little love notes in her pockets. i love her quiet, the way winter demands, understand her sex drive is faltering; spend more time just cuddling. we drink wine and we kiss and some part of her starts relaxing.
the truth is there is no loving someone out of their mental illness. the truth is that you can love someone in despite of it; love them loud enough to give them an excuse to believe they can make their way out of it.
and i learn. i remember the rebirth of spring, when she starts thawing. we kiss and have picnics in pretty dresses. i remember her joy at little birds and her rain dancing. i fall in love with the flowers in her cheeks and the little bursts of cleaning. i fall in love with summer’s slow walks and milkshakes and shouting to music playing too loud on the speakers. i fall in love with her dancing, with the sunfire energy. and when winter comes; i am ready. i remember that snow used to look pretty. i fall in love with the hearth of her, with the holiday, with the slow smile that spreads across her face so shyly. i fall in love with how she looks in boots and mittens and every day i find another reason to love her the way she deserves - they way i always should have.
she comes home with her white hair and dark smile and a package in her hands. i ask to see what it is and that small shy grin comes creeping out. it’s a sunlamp packed in with medication. she looks at me with those wide eyes and that beautiful winter blush. “i’m trying to get better,” she whispers, “i promise.”
recovery doesn’t look immediate. sometimes it isn’t neat. i can’t say we never fight or that we’re suddenly complete. but each day, that tiny girl’s strength gives me another reason. i love her. i love her while she tames the roller coaster of spring; i love her for reigning in the summer storms; i love her for taking her winter and trying to be warm. it is hard, because everything worth it is hard. she spreads out her autumn leaves; mixes the best parts of her into everything. learns to take winter’s silence for a moment before yelling in summer. learns to take autumn’s spice and give it to spring. we are both learning.
one day she comes home and her hair is different, but it’s a style i don’t know. i kiss it and tell her that she’s beautiful and the inside of me swells like a flood. i’m so glad that she’s mine. every part of her. the whole. i am the luckiest person on earth. and i always have been. but she’s hugging me and saying, “thank you for helping me,” and i can’t explain why i’m crying.
this is what love is; not always an emotion but rather your actions. the choices we make when we realize our lives would be empty if the other was absent. this is what love is: letting them grow, helping them find their way in out of the cold. this is what love is: sometimes it takes work to see how the thing you planted together actually grows.
this is what love looks like in an autumn girl: it is winter and she glows.
GYM SMUT IS HEEEERE
Aka Sango and I took it upon ourselves to make our own version of last week’s episode, because we love ourselves too much to let the bad scenes get us down.
Kara has seen Lena in casual clothes. She’s seen her in crewneck sweaters, in jeans, and even with minimal makeup and messy hair. But she’s never seen her in…yoga pants. She’s never had to try to keep her cool while Lena walks towards her in skin-tight black spandex and a loose off-the-shoulder t-shirt, her hair in a messy ponytail and not a stitch of makeup on her face. She looks clean and natural and absolutely, devastatingly beautiful.
Oh, this was a bad idea.
OR
Kara doesn’t technically need to work out. But, spending time with Lena at the gym isn’t all bad. Even if seeing her best friend in spandex workout clothes makes her break a new piece of equipment every week.
And, my customary ko-fi link!
First I want you to suffer as I suffered. To know what it’s like to be alone and afraid. To be disgusted with who and what you are.
Emma can't wait to spend her first Christmas with Regina as a married couple. Regina plans to give Emma a present she wont forget. A Christmas themed SwanQueen smut fic Merry Christmas! X
Sooo, I saw someone ask for an Alex/Maggie pool table smut fic :p
Merry Christmas!
Bringing this around again as it’s Christmas!
Santa hats, strip pool and much smut. What more could you want?
Am I the only one who really wants Holt and Kevin to have a daughter?
And by that I don’t mean I want him and Kevin to adopt.
I mean I want it to be an average day at the precinct when Holt walks out of his office with a young woman. They shake hands, bid goodbye and Jake walks over to ask who she is.
“Who’s that? Someone from city hall?”
And Holt just casually replies. “No that’s my daughter.”
And everyone in the bullpen just stops, stunned. Because he’s never mentioned it before, ever, even in passing.
“You have a daughter?”
“Yes, her name is Claire, she is 24 years of age and studying at Jon Hopkins.”
Everyone turns to look at Amy who’s frantically flipping through six, thick binders, freaking out because she has not even a footnote on Claire’s existence!
Charles: Amy, how do you not know this? Doesn’t the captain have photos of his daughter?
Jake: Yeah, I thought you investigated everyone that’s breathed the same air as the captain in an effort to bond with him.
Amy: I thought she was his notary!
*cut away*
Holt: Here is your certificate confirming you completed volume one of my mentorship program.
Amy: Thank you Captain! So official, it’s even notarized!
Holt: Yes. Here is a photograph of the notary, Claire.
Amy: Oh, I saw her in a photo with you and Kevin, I was wondering what your relationship was. Did she notarize your marriage certificate?
Holt: *looks at watch* Given that it is 30 seconds after official work hours I will permit this single personal question. Yes she did.
*cut back*
Jake: You didn’t think it was weird he had a photo of his notary on his phone? Wait, no. That’s the sort of thing I wouldn’t have questioned either.
Supercorp commission!
A scene from @jazzfordshire‘s Titanic AU!
Up on Redbubble now!
Pro tip: Their scarves make for great wall tapestries.
Prompt: Alex and Lena making out in secret and things are getting heavy— hearts racing and what not... Supergirl bursts in thinking her two favorite people are in danger. Embarrassing hilarity ensues.
Lena is a mistake Alex only meant to make once.
Or you know, not make at all.
But then she made it, so then it was supposed to stay in the ‘Once Only’ column.
And Alex blames the whiskey the first time, anyway. Not at all her fault. It was purely alcohol and the fact that, well, fine, Lena is really, actually, very, very hot. Like, painfully so. Alex’s Big Gay Awakening happened and she only had eyes for Maggie but then that ended in a way that still makes her stomach twist achingly (how can you be so, so good with someone yet have the one fundamental thing that makes you incompatible? How?) and Alex started to notice other women.
And Lena is really hot.
Like, yes, the boss will see you now hot. Sam was also attractive and maybe Alex thought for a little while that was going to build into something, but Sam, all traumatised (understandably) had to get away from where everything went down.
The woman who serves Alex coffee is really cute, with dimples in her cheeks and eyes that sometimes, when Alex isn’t drowning in the self doubt she smothers with faked bravado almost every moment, she swears rake up and down her when she hands over the coffee.
Attractive women are just everywhere. They have so many qualities. Laughs, and collarbones, and legs for days. Bright eyes and curves and, well, Alex was learning she didn’t really have a type.
Women are hot.
Lena is exceptionally so.
But Alex kind of noticed it distantly. Because she’s Kara’s best friend and she doesn’t know Kara is Supergirl and Alex knows it isn’t the nicest thing, but she still doesn’t entirely trust Lena to any great capacity.
Alex is trying. She moved past pinning it on the last name that Alex knows follows Lena like a thick coating of ash she can never entirely beat out of the cloth on her skin. But then the kryptonite. And the shady comments.
And she’s so fucking intelligent.
She is, categorically, a danger.
A really hot danger.
But that was a distant acknowledgement. Until Alex went to L-Corp to question Lena about something and Lena rolled her eyes and gave her a drink and they sat while Lena didn’t even blink as Alex fired question after question about the Kryptonite protection suit and what it all meant and then two hours had passed and they’d drunk a little too much of the whiskey and had moved to the couch and she was close and Alex hadn’t been touched since Sara and had spent the next week after it wrapped in guilt and never really got to enjoy it. Lena’s knee bumped against hers and Alex didn’t pull away and then they were kissing, Lena’s fingers against her jaw and then her palm gliding along her cheek until her fingers were in Alex’s hair.
She was a great kisser.
It was kind of annoying, that she was that attractive and intelligent and really, really good with her lips.
Something that Alex found out in more detail not long after as they pressed against her throat and then her chest and then her stomach where Lena pushed up the shirt Alex was wearing. Her fingers were fumbling with Alex’s belt and then her boots and there was a minute where they were both laughing because getting undressed isn’t actually always the sexiest thing but then Lena’s lips were on her and her tongue and Alex came embarrassingly fast.
In her defence, so did Lena when Alex pushed her onto the carpet and her hand crept up that skirt that was now bunched around Lena’s waist.
But after all the breathy moans and flushed cheeks, the awkward aftermath settled over them and Alex kind of…tugged her pants back on, gathered her jacket and skedaddled.
One time.
It was supposed to stay one time.
Except that night she didn’t sleep even with the alcohol because she was staring at the roof remembering the damp feel of Lena’s breath against her ear and the desperate canting of her hips and the needy sounds that spilled out around them and instead of feeling sated Alex wanted more, legs shifting restlessly under the heat of her sheets.
But it was a mistake.
A one time mistake. Once. Uno. No more.
They are not a good match. At all. They come from polar opposites of everything and the whole, Kara’s best friend who can be a bit shady thing. And not knowing Kara is Supergirl.
And the whole, just…the whole thing.
A one time mistake.
But then they all had drinks in a bar a week later, and Kara brightened next to her and Alex followed her line of sight to see Lena walking in and she was wearing a dress that should be criminal and all she did was raise one eyebrow at Alex in greeting like nothing had happened while Alex squirmed in her chair, cheeks burning, as Lena chatted with Brainy and J’Onn and Kara as if last week she hadn’t grunted “fucking harder” in Alex’s ear before Alex had done just that and Lena had—
But no. Lena was fine.
But then Kara was pulled away for Supergirl duties with her usual lame excuse (her sister is so badly at lying sometimes Alex wonders if the entire city knows her identity and is just humouring her) and Brainy followed her out. J’Onn got a message and was gone, and it was Lena and Alex left with all the memories of what they did rising between them.
Alex, of course, fled to the bathroom to try get herself together.
Lena followed.
And then pushed her against the gross, dirty wall and kissed her and she is genuinely that good at kissing that Alex was convinced in 0.1 second that maybe two times would be okay. Lena whispered in her ear that the bar was gross and why not go back to her place.
So they did.
And technically it wasn’t really two times after that but six, but really, it was only two occasions so whatever.
It turns out that Lena was hot in a the boss will see you now way but also in, well, a lot of ways. The way she arched under Alex. The way she grinned right before she ducked her head to press her tongue against her. The way she went boneless after her third orgasm and just smiled lazily up at the ceiling, and then at Alex, eyes so damn green.
How in the morning, she made them coffee in just an over-sized hoody and her underwear, hair piled on top her head with tendrils escaping all over the place, and casually asked Alex about particle displacement in interdimensional portals and Alex’s damn heart gave a deceiving, sharp thump against her rib cage.
After the second-slash-sixth time, she didn’t even bother trying to convince herself it wasn’t going to happen again.
So now it’s been happening for a month and it’s still a mistake, probably.
Possibly.
Maybe.
Kind of.
But maybe it’s not a genuine, painful mistake, but a mistake like if you walked into the wrong class in college and sat down and figured you were there anyway so you may as well listen and it turns out it was super interesting and made you realise you shouldn’t be majoring in literature but instead biochemistry and you wouldn’t have known if not for the first mistake.
That led to something fun.
Because, and Alex has no idea how she got here of all places, Lena Luthor is fun. They argue over stupid science theories and one time she made a joke that was super complex but made Alex snort her wine, and when Lena laughs, it’s so loud and real and, almost…startled, like she still isn’t used to doing it so genuinely.
She shows up sometimes after a night Alex has been beating up bad guys and is super sweaty and instead of being grossed out her pupils blow wide and Alex ends up against the wall. And then in the shower.
Just not alone.
They drink coffee in the soft light of morning when they both avoid the fact that they have to go to work. They eat dinner sometimes in Lena’s office and share wine in a bar down the street for Alex’s apartment.
They send each other messages with emojis and Alex wonders who the hell she’s become.
They have a lot of sex.
And Alex learns she likes the way Lena thinks. She considers everything. It’s different to Alex, who can have a one track mind. Lena…she sees everything in grey.
They both avoid talking about what it is and telling people and they never talk about Kara, but it doesn’t really matter because whatever it is is fun and sexy and Alex’s heart does that hard thump more often than she wishes it would, like the great betrayer it is.
Then one night Kara’s on patrol and Alex is bored because the city is under control so she goes to L-Corp and finds Lena on the balcony with a whiskey. When Lena turns around, it’s with the skyline behind her and her face lights up, a slow smile as her gaze definitely drops down Alex’s body to meet her eyes again, that smile turning into a smirk that makes Alex’s stomach bottom out. Alex walks forward and takes the glass from Lena’s hand, their fingers over each others until Alex tugs it away and takes a slow sip, Lena’s eyes never leaving her face.
It’s been days, because they’ve been busy. They’re both always so busy.
Lena’s kiss is hungry and Alex stumbles backwards, the glass left on the railing and her hands fisting Lena’s blazer, the silk of her blouse against her knuckles. She almost falls once as they blindly make it into the office, Alex’s leather jacket on the balcony and her shirt pulled out from where it was tucked into her jeans. Lena’s hand glides over her stomach, Alex’s muscles jumping, and over her back under her shirt. Before she can fall, her ass hits Lena’s desk and Lena’s kiss doesn’t stop even as she manages to push papers to the floor that fall with a fluttering sound. The desk is cold even through her jeans but she sits on it anyway, Lena between her legs and Alex’s wrapped around her to pull her in tighter. It’s impossible to stop, and they’ve gotten so very, very good at this.
Lena’s buttons come undone slowly, their kiss slowing to match the pace and Alex can feel Lena’s heart racing against her fingers when they graze over her sternum. She pushes the shirt off her shoulders but then holds it there, trapping Lena’s arms in place and pulling her tighter against her front, the lace of her bra soft against Alex’s chest, her own shirt thrown behind them at some point. She squeezes her legs tighter, and Lena presses more firmly against her. Lena finally pulls back to gasp, her lips so red and pupils blown so wide all Alex can do is grin before pulling her back in.
There’s a thump, a sound like wind that Alex knows far too well and then an actual yelp.
They freeze, everything freezes, or Alex wishes it did, forever anyway, because she knows exactly who that was and what’s happening but for the shortest of moments Lena has pulled back and they are just staring at each other, wide-eyed, horrified, because surely Lena knows too.
“I’m sorry!”
Lena twists enough in Alex’s arms to see behind her, and Alex tilts just slightly to the right to look. Behind Lena, in the doorway, just like Alex knew she would be, is Kara.
Rather, Supergirl.
But right now one is just as bad as the other.
Her hand is literally clapped over her eyes and her face is redder than Alex has ever seen it and Lena’s shirt is still clutched in both of Alex’s hands against the back of her arms, and Alex very much does not have a shirt on and all Alex can feel is annoyed because this was going to be some very, very good desk sex.
“Sorry!” Kara says again.
Silence.
“Why are you here?” Lena asks.
She doesn’t move but really Alex can’t blame her because pulling away would mean having to awkwardly clasp her shirt closed in front of her and at least this way they’re both kind of covered.
Alex hates her sister.
But also, slowly, she’s realising this is awkward as hell.
But mostly, right now, she hates her sister because Lena was very much about to push her back on this desk and it was going to be amazing.
Kara’s hand is still slapped over her eyes and her other hand is held up like she could ward them away or something, and Alex may be about to hysterically laugh so she bites her lip but her smile escapes anyway.
“I heard—I just…” Kara sighs heavily, that hand holding off evil lowering to her side. “Can I look yet?”
“Sure,” Alex answers.
She drops her hand—as if she doesn’t have x-ray vision—and when she opens her eyes she yelps again and slaps her hand back. “You haven’t moved! You’re still…almost naked.”
Lena turns to look at Alex, raises her eyebrows and sees Alex’s grin. Her eyebrows rise higher. She pulls away with a sigh, and tugs her shirt together and Alex jumps off the desk, grabs her own off the floor and holds it against her front before sitting on the edge of the desk next to Lena, who’s arms are now crossed to hold her shirt together and is watching Kara with her head tilted to one side.
There’s a slight red mark blooming on her neck Alex doesn’t even remember making.
“You can look now.”
This time, Kara spreads two fingers and looks between them cautiously. “You couldn’t get dressed properly ?” she asks, before letting her hand fall away. Two high spots of colour are sill on her cheeks and she fiddles with her cape with one hand.
Alex still just wants to laugh.
“Well, I think we would both like to get back to what we were doing,” Lena says.
Kara’s mouth drops open and Alex chokes on her snicker.
“I—was that necessary?” Kara shoots at Lena.
Lena smirks. “Yes. Again—why are you here?”
Kara sighs. “I heard—I heard your heart beats. They, um…” She’s completely red again, just like before. She avoids all eye contact. “They were fast, both of them, in the same location. I thought you were in trouble.”
“Nope,” Alex says. And maybe she’s having too much fun with this, especially considering how worried she was about Kara knowing she was banging her best friend. But seriously, her sister looks like she’s about to melt through the floor. “Not in trouble.”
Kara’s gaze is on the ceiling. “I get that now.”
Silence.
Lena clears her throat.
Kara’s neck is also red.
Alex is plain grinning.
“So…we’re fine, Kara.” Alex’s head whips around to stare at Lena, eyes wide, mouth open. As does Kara’s. “You can go.”
“Kara?” Kara squeaks. Alex is squinting at Lena, who is staring straight at Kara unblinking. Looking like she’s enjoying every single part of this far too much. “Why, uh…why would you call me that?”
Of course she knew. Of course.
Luthor. Intelligent.
Of course Lena knew. She’s probably known for a very long time.
Alex’s grin is back.
Lena rolls her eyes. “Maybe we can get into that another time, Kara?”
Kara gives a high pitched laugh. “That’s not my—not my name.”
Alex looks to Kara. “I think it’s blown.”
Kara seems to deflate on the spot. “Oh. Um….”
“Another time?” Lena asks.
“Of-of course. You’ve got things to do.” Kara’s eyes widen. “Oh my god, one of which is my sister.”
And with that, she simply backs out the door and disappears, and Alex can practically hear her mortification.
Lena turns her head to look at her, and Alex turns hers. Slowly, like she’s not sure if Alex is going to back away, Lena leans forward and drops a kiss to Alex’s bare shoulder and Alex lets her smile soften.
When Lena pulls back, relief is in her eyes and Alex should be concerned about a lot of things.
But she’s just not.
HP anon. I hope you’re well! I had two trick or treaters who dressed their dog as a hotdog and it made me think of your Lena
We had soooo many kids come round! Lena wore her Halloween jumper and sat by the front door the whole evening waiting for the kids!
I hope you, your wife, and Lena are doing well! - hp anon
Hey! We are good :) I didn’t get the notifications for your asks and I’ve only just found them ☹️
Lena had taken a dislike to the cold weather and keeps burying herself in any blanket she can find.