#even when i was like girl i am in an emergency situation i asked for the cheapest charger as fast as possible because i HAD to answer a call

[hueningkoi]

Nothing no updates. I slept like crap but at least some sleep was had. I should probably eat something I didn't eat dinner yesterday I was too anxious

[p0orbaby]

For a Good Time, Call…

summary: you send a nude to the wrong number, you don’t expect what happens next.

warnings: Leah, yeah that’s a warning, suggestive themes

a/n: one of my favourite of bits of writing ngl

word count: 2.1k

part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | epilogue

-

You’ve never felt dread like it.

“Shit shit shit!” You repeat as you try and stop the message from sending.

The woosh and the delivered sign told you it had already been spat out into the ether. You want to leave the city. The country even. Perhaps fill the next available spot on a space shuttle.

All of the above possibilities rattle through your brain as you pull your t-shirt down from where it was hitched around your neck. Yank your shorts up from where they lay low on your hips.

“I’m dead. I am so dead!”

If your heart wasn’t racing before, it definitely was now.

Panic sets in as you contemplate the impending fallout. Terrible thoughts race through your mind, and you highly consider drafting an apology that somehow erases the embarrassment. The gravity of the situation hangs heavy, and groveling seems like the only viable option.

Could she get you benched? Maybe. Could she stop you from getting another international call up? You really fucking hoped not.

In the midst of your demise, you realise another sorry soul will have to bear the consequences of your actions. Bar Girl. The intended recipient of the half naked photo you signed, sealed and delivered to someone else.

You decide, rightly or not, that she has now become collateral damage. And the decision to ghost her emerges as a seemingly reasonable response.

The potential repercussions from your inadvertent exposure now cast a grim shadow on all aspects of your life, making abandoning Bar Girl a desperate attempt to shield yourself from further embarrassment.

The idea of changing your identity hovers temptingly in your periphery.

Desperation takes hold, and for a moment, you entertain the delusional thought that maybe you had imagined the whole debacle in some lustful daze. However, when a subtle movement on screen catches your attention, reality hands you a more damning blow – the weight of the situation crashes down as ‘read’ replaces the once-hopeful ‘delivered’.

Acknowledgement from Leah has shifted from a delivery confirmation to active viewing.

As if it had just set alight in your hands, you hurl your phone across the room. The reality sets in that there’s no turning back; the message, along with its aftermath, is now etched into the digital realm.

The room echoes with the crash of your phone meeting the wall. As the device lies discarded, its screen cracked, you’re left to face the reality that there’s no undoing the chain of events.

In a desperate release, you roll over and scream into your pillow until the muffled sound becomes an agonizing buzz in your ears.

-

The next day hits hard as you trudge into the changing room. You barely slept. Tossing and turning most of the night in an anxious bubble. And when exhaustion finally took over, your dreams were more like nightmares.

You were tempted to call in sick. But you decided that wallowing in your own despair would probably just make matters worse. So you settled on a compromise.

Avoid Leah at all costs.

Your hood hangs low over your face as you pass by several of your teammates and make a silent beeline for your cubby. But that may have piqued their interests more, as Beth finds herself invading the space you so desperately crave.

“You look rough. Bar Girl give you a run for your money?”

“Something like that” you grumble, hands making quick work of unpacking your bag.

She hums at you and smirks at how disheveled you look when your hoodie comes off. You know where her mind has gone, but you don’t try and dissuade her from writing an excuse for you.

“So, when are you going to make it official then? You’ve been talking for almost a month right?” Beth asks, her eyes flitting around your face and down your neck in search of marks left behind.

You offer a noncommittal shrug. “I’m not sure if I will. I’ve still got the feelers out” you reply, the words sounding awkward and detached even to your own ears.

Beth raises an eyebrow, you gather it’s not the response she expected. Especially from you.

“That doesn’t sound like you”

“No?”

“I thought you were all about the long game?”

You offer a half-smile, choosing your words carefully. “Opinions change, you know?” you reply, slipping your training kit over your head and turning away to fold your discarded clothes, hoping she’d get the point.

Beth studies you for a moment, her eyes searching for something beyond the surface. “Fair enough. Keep us posted though yeah? She seemed nice”

You wince at her words. Jesus, you felt like a bitch, but you nod anyway. It seems to do enough. When you hear her walk away, you release a breath.

“Oh” she voices unexpectedly behind you, and you immediately tense up again. “Leah’s asking for you”

You turn on your heels, spinning so fast you almost topple over. “Did she say what it was about?” You ask. You try not to seem nervous but the sweat above your brow is giving you away.

“No. Just that she wants you to meet her in the gym when you’re ready”

You nod again, and swallow hard. Your throat was dry and you felt like you could pass out. “Sure, yeah. I’ll head there in a second”

Beth eyes you again suspiciously but when she eventually turns and leaves the room, you’re left to grapple with your jitters in solitude

“Shit” you mutter to yourself. And as you stand there trying to regain yourself, it becomes very apparent that you don’t actually have a back up plan.

If you really do lose minutes on the pitch, your career could be on the line.

Conscious that you've already left her waiting too long, you dart out of the room with a newfound sense of urgency.

The corridors blur as you navigate the familiar path, the door to the gym looming larger with each stride. And when you get there you’re out of breath and clammy.

Is it weird to say you're grateful that a door handle is cold against your skin? Perhaps, but you are. It grounds you a little as you stand there panicking.

Taking a moment to collect yourself, you open the door and step into the gym at last. The air feels charged with anticipation as you brace yourself for a meeting that could have repercussions far beyond the boundaries of the training facility.

But Leah is nowhere to be found. The lights are all off and the room looks the same as it was left the day before.

Is Beth having you on? Or is Leah trying to mess you around, torture you until you break down and leave on your own accord.

Don’t be so silly. She wouldn’t do that, would she?

“Hey”

You jump out of your skin as the silence is disrupted. You turn in fright and she’s lucky she’s so far away because you're a fighter, not a flighter, and you’re sure you would’ve punched her straight in the face.

“Why the hell are you hiding in the dark? You idiot!” you blurt out, the initial shock now giving way to frustration. The tables have turned, and you can’t help but question Leah’s peculiar choice of location for this conversation.

Leah lets out a short laugh. “Hiding? I wasn’t hiding. Just needed to grab a few things from the cupboard”. She lifts up her hands to showcase the foam rollers you deduce she was looking for.

“Beth said you wanted to talk”

“That’s right”

“Do I need to ask what it’s about?”

She laughs again and you start to lose your patience a little. She notices and glances at you with a more serious expression when you don’t look impressed, so she gestures for you to join her in a quieter corner of the gym.

“I get it; the suspense isn’t helping,” Leah admits, her tone softening. “But you’re not stupid. I think you know why I’ve called you in here”

As you follow her, Leah’s demeanor takes an unexpected turn. The serious expression gives way to a playful twinkle in her eye. “Didn’t know you were into that kind of thing. Nudes, I mean,” she teases, a mischievous grin playing on her lips. “Nipple piercings too? You’ve been hiding some interesting secrets, haven’t you?”

Leah’s teasing catches you off guard, and your words stumble over each other as you stammer, “I, uh, well, it’s not—I mean, I didn’t…”

“Don’t get all nervous on me now” she says as she perches on the edge of a massage table. “You seemed pretty confident last night”

You attempt to salvage some dignity, but Leah’s mischievous grin suggests she’s thoroughly enjoying your discomfort. “I didn’t mean to send it to you. It was a mistake”

“No?” She pops her bottom lip out in a pout. “That’s a shame”

You feel a knot forming in your stomach, and your attempts to defend yourself only seem to fuel Leah’s amusement. “I-I…” you struggle to form a coherent response. And you silently curse yourself for not being able to hold your ground.

“If not me, then who?” She asks as if it’s any of her business. If you weren’t so stunned by the whole thing you’d have told her to fuck off. But the words don’t quite make it past your lips, and you find yourself at her mercy. “I won’t judge”

There’s a pregnant pause where you decide if you should tell her. Then with a reluctant sigh, you decide to reveal the truth. “Someone… a girl I met last month”

“Bar Girl” she deduces.

You were never really close to Leah. You played for the same teams, sure. But you never frequent the same social circles. Not really. So to find out she knows about what you get up to in your free time is a little jarring.

“Yeah, her,” you admit, feeling exposed in a way that extends beyond the painful fact she’s seen your tits.

“Hm” is all she says before she holds her hand out to you. And you take it without even thinking.

“You know” she starts. Settling you so your front is almost flush against hers as you stand between her legs. “I’ve always wondered what you’ve been hiding under that jersey of yours” she finishes, tucking some stray hairs behind your ear. Her fingers brushing your skin and setting it on fire.

“The same parts as you, I’m guessing”

“Funny”

“I do try”

There’s another lull, and in the silence you swear you can hear your heart beating.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” Her question is barely above a whisper.

You shake your head no. Because she isn’t making you uncomfortable. Confusing you, yes. Intriguing you, certainly. But uncomfortable? Not exactly.

Leah leans back slightly, studying your expression. “Good, wouldn’t want to cross any lines.” Her fingers continue to play with your hair, a casual touch that feels anything but.

“Lines can be subjective” you say, your eyes trained on hers as you watch her mouth pull into a smirk.

Where this new found confidence has come from you don’t know.

“Can they?” She questions. Her eyes glint as she tilts her head to the side. Is she mocking you?

“Sometimes”

She likes your answer, you think, despite the still of her hands in your hair. Because her expression shifts and she leans in, her gaze dropping to your mouth.

“Interesting,” she murmurs, untangling your hair from her fingers and brushing her thumb over your bottom lip. You catch a glimmer of satisfaction in her eyes as she notices the blush deepening on your cheeks.

Without breaking her eyes from yours, Leah leans in just enough to tease. Close enough that you can feel each breath angst your skin. Far enough away that it’s infuriating. Then she pulls away, leaving you hanging on the edge of anticipation.

Then she’s gone.

You stand frozen while she unfurls herself away from you, sidestepping from the space she occupied between you and the massage table.

You only turn when she clears her throat behind you.

“Message me again sometime?”

The way she asked was softer than you expected. Softer than how she was talking to you for the last five minutes. It catches you off guard and a response gets stuck in your throat again.

You nod because that seems to be your default reaction to all of her questions. A smirk must be hers to you, because she flashes another one in your direction.

With that, she was gone. Leaving you alone in the dark with a skip in your pulse and two discarded foam rollers at your feet.

And a sneaking suspicion your spot for both club and country were going to be okay.

[teyvathandymenclub]

Bring Your Child to Work Day

Characters: Neuvillette, Itto, Cyno, Ayato

TW: None

Neuvillette

It has been two days since you fell sick not being able to leave your bed. Your husband was always really caring, but his loving personality shined especially on days like this. You have never been more thankful for him being by your side. Neuvillette even took time off from work which happened only once when your daughter was born.

But being such an important figure in Fontaine comes with responsibilities that he could not ignore, so he had to leave for a few hours.

“Honey, what are you doing?” You almost laughed when you saw him packing your daughter's backpack.

“Packing for our business trip.” Neuvillette smiled at you happily, seeing you feeling a little bit better. 

“I am fine, she can stay with me.”

“No. And I am not going to discuss that any further.” Neuvillette hugged you tightly and left with the little girl in one hand and her backpack in the other.

After arriving at Palais Mermonia, the little girl started shuffling too much so Neuvillette put her down. She immediately straightened her dress and stuck her chin up just like her daddy always does after entering the building. Neuvillete went straight towards his office not realizing his daughter mirroring his majestic walk, filling the hallway with loud taps right behind him as she tried to keep up with him. 

Everyone almost melted at the sight of the little girl, but no one dared to speak to or touch the child of the Judex.

Neuvillette settled behind his desk and gave his daughter all the supplies to keep her occupied for some time. She took out all of her crayons and started to draw. Neuvillette almost tapped himself on the shoulder for amazing management of the situation until he realized that he was blessed with a drawing of a weirdly mixed pony and snake on one of the contracts that he just signed. When he took it away from her, she grabbed another. 

“No baby, these are daddy´s papers, these are yours.”

He had to wrestle her for the papers for a moment until he gave up and put her down from his desk.

“That is my chair. I want to sit in the big chair.” The little girl protested.

“No, that is my chair, but I will let you sit there when I finish…”

“Daddy splash, splash!!” She interrupted him.

“No, Daddy can not, he would make a mess in his office my dear...” 

But before he could finish his sentence, the little girl summoned her power out of nowhere as she started running around and made a huge puddle in every corner of his office. 

Neuvillette jumped up from his seat and started to chase her. He even almost slipped once before he finally caught her and carried her out of his office under his arm like a bag of potatoes.

“I did not know that my daughter is such a devilish little dragon.” He mumbled as he was looking for a melusine. 

“I know I have never made this kind of request, but can you entertain her for a few minutes? I would not ask you if it would not be an emergency.” He said, almost ashamed. 

“Absolutely! However long you need.” One of the melusines smiled, excited from such an unexpected task.

After quickly finishing work in peace, Neuvillette packed the pink backpack thinking about not bringing it again, and left to look for his daughter. It took him a while until he heard her giggle in one of the administrative rooms. The little girl was surrounded by at least four melusines playing games unknown to Neuvillette. 

“I do not know how to thank you.” He said full of gratitude.

“Do not mention it Mr. Neuvillette. We were glad to help!” Melusines said almost in unison and waved goodbye as he picked her up into his arms.

“I think we deserve a little treat after a long work day.” He smiled at his daughter in the streets of Fontaine. 

“Yes! Yes! Ice cream!” She jumped. “And for Mommy too!”

“Absolutely! We can not forget to pick medicine for her and her favorite treat to cheer her up.” Neuvillette smiled.

“Balloons!!!” The little girl screamed and ran away.

Neuvillette ran after her while he thought about whether or not shops sell leashes for little dragons.

Itto

That morning you woke up with someone standing right next to your side of the bed.

“Itto? What is going on?!” You asked confused.

“I have decided that today is the day when I am going to introduce our son to my gang.” Itto smiled brightly with a baby carrier strapped to his body.

“Your gang? You do not have a gang anymore.”

“But we stayed friends and still call ourselves a gang, Mrs. Smart.” Itto rolled his eyes.

“I know, I am just teasing you.” You pulled him down to you to kiss him. “I think it is a good idea, but you need to be careful. Can you promise me that?”

“Absolutely? You do not know me? I am the most…” Itto stopped himself after he saw your raised brows. “Do not worry, wifey. Love you. Bye!”

Itto suddenly disappeared, leaving you confused when you heard your son coo in his crib. After a few minutes, the door on your home opened with Itto´s head peeking into your bedroom.

“Did you forget something?” You asked, not making it easy for him.

“Yeeeah, about that… Have I left our son here? Or should I look elsewhere?”

“Itto? Are you joking??” You looked at the baby in the crib.

“Of course! Of course, I am joking.” Itto reached for his son and strapped him into the baby carrier. “Bye-bye.” Itto waved at you with little Oni´s hand in his and left.

Once he met with his gang he could not stop bragging how strong and amazing his son is. Just like his father, obviously. 

After they finished lunch, Itto dragged them into the woods on a mission to find a big beetle that he could train for his son.

“But Boss! He can't even walk yet.” Argued one of the boys.

“He can start any day now, I need to be prepared. It is not easy to train a new champion. You need to start early!” Itto shut him down.

After a few hours of unsuccessful searching for the biggest and mightiest beetle, the gang left for lunch number two. And also the baby boy smelled because he needed a clean diaper.

As Itto left the restaurant with a full belly and the baby with a freshly changed diaper, he heard the sound of some kind of rock music in the distance.

“Boys! There is a concert that we are missing! We need to check it out!”

When they finally arrived, Itto frowned, realizing that he could not take a baby to the concert with such loud music. 

“Boss! Where are you going?”

“I will be right back!” Itto ran away, holding his son's ears.

And he truly came back in a few minutes with a sleeping baby in the carrier and big noise-canceling headphones on his little head.

Not long after it was time for dinner, the whole gang visited the local market with freshly cooked food. The place was crowded, but it was worth it to stay there for all the delicious meals they offered there.

“Oh, sorry big guy, I am leaving crumbles all over your head.” Itto looked down and realized that the carrier was empty. “In the name of the lavender melon, no!” Itto screamed.

He immediately gathered everyone from the gang to look for his son. Itto was never afraid of anything. Except beans. And his wife. And if she finds out that he lost little Oni, there would be no Oni left after she is done with him.

In the meantime, Kuki looked after the baby, because she saw Itto had been occupied with ordering food. When she saw all the boys running around the market like headless chickens, she realized that someone had forgotten that the baby was with her. After letting them marinate in fear she finally took mercy on them and brought the baby back to the big Oni.

“Kuki! Where did you find him?!” Itto kissed his son´s face. “You just saved my life Shinobu!” He reached out to her to do the same, but she immediately stopped him.

“Just say thank you, Boss.” She smiled.

“Thank you! And…” Itto lowered his voice. “Do not tell my wife. She would have me sleep on the couch. No cuddles for me for the rest of the month. Can you imagine?”

Cyno

You were never into the idea of Cyno training your daughter. But he kept begging you and you knew that he would not put your child in any danger, so today, with a heavy heart, you finally let them go. 

“But only for a moment, before work. Ok?” You looked at him with worry.

Cyno could not contain his excitement as he sat down with his girl on his forearm and left your house with a bright smile. He was toying with the idea of going behind your back, but he quickly brushed it. He respected and loved you too much to do something like that.

Now, after waiting for so long Cyno was on his way with the child holding him around the neck. With a bag full of water and snacks on his back, he reached his favorite spot where he used to train by himself when he was just a kid.

“Here we are!” Cyno smiled at his girl. “Now Daddy is going to put you down and we can fight a little. What do you think?”

“You are going to lose!” The little girl, barely school age, said with a confident smirk.

“Why do you sound just like your mommy?” Cyno chuckled.

He knew his daughter had the soul of a fighter, just like her parents, but she still surprised him. Every stance, every move… She quickly adapted and Cyno´s heart was full when he saw her reaching for his polearm.

“One day it will be all yours. Mine gift only for you. But not today, ok?”

A silent cry was her answer and Cyno knew it was time to go.

“Someone is a little cranky. How about we head back to the village.” He said to himself and packed the stuff that he brought.

With a tired child positioned on his forearm with small hands wrapped around his neck again, Cyno headed back to civilization. Now and then he stopped to show her beautiful flowers that were typical for this part of the world and explained them to her. With each stop, the little girl was less and less interested in the fauna that her father was showing her.

“That is ok.” He mumbled. “We have the whole life ahead of us to teach you everything I know.” Cyno smiled proud of being able to share his wisdom with his own blood.

When they finally reached the village, Cyno settled in his office after he tucked his daughter on the small sofa in the next room. After dealing with the most important tasks of the day, you surprised him with lunch and a plan to take your daughter home with you.

“A meal for our child. Take it as an exchange type of business.” You laughed.

“But she was supposed to be with me the whole day,” Cyno argued with an upset look all over his face.

“You are about to head out. You thought that I would let you take her to visit criminals?” You raised your brow.

“I would not… You shelter her too much.”

“So do you. Just in a different way.” 

You kissed him and with a smile, you left with your sleeping child in your arms.

Cyno wanted to argue that he did not know what you meant by that, but he knew all too well. Since he held her for the first time, he could not stop imagining the day when he would no longer be there to protect her. If there is only one thing that he would be able to accomplish in his life, it would be to teach his daughter to protect herself like he protects both of you.

Ayato

Ayato always took pride in his family. First, his sister. Then he met you. When you blessed him with your yes, he hardly could have imagined to be even happier than he already was. Proud husband of the most beautiful and intelligent woman he ever met. But then your son was born. His world, his heart expanded and there was not a moment when he would not talk about the two of you. Everything crushed when he visited you in the garden as he came back home after his work travels. As he reached for you to kiss you, your son tried to push him away. 

Ayato froze.

“Oh, do not mind him.” You smiled. “You have been gone a little too long this time and maybe he just needs to get used to you being around again.” You tried to reassure him as you hugged him tightly.

Ayato smiled at you and got down on his knee to hug his son. You knew it was not a good idea, but did not interfere. As expected, the boy pushed him and ran away. 

“I got used to it, but he is too small to accept the concept of someone traveling for days without him. Give him time.” You comforted your husband.

“You are right, my dear.” Ayato hugged you around your waist. “As always.” He smiled.

“Maybe you can show him what you do, hm?” 

“You mean… Like to take him to work with me? What a strange idea.”

“Trust me.” You silenced him with a kiss.

The next morning, Ayato was already prepared to start his day before dawn when he remembered your proposal. When he opened the door to his son's bedroom, he found him deep in the sleep. Since that moment, Ayato felt like he had done everything wrong. He woke his son and tried to make him dress up for the day.

“Shhh, we do not want to wake up your mommy.” Ayato tried to calm the boy politely.

After exhausting fighting in the bedroom, it was finally time for the real fight. Ayato did not want to miss his daily morning sword training.

“I have got something for you.” Ayato handed his son a beautifully packed box. 

When the boy smiled, Ayato felt a deep relief. Until the boy opened the box where he found a perfectly crafted wooden sword from the highest quality wood ever found. Ayato expected to see his son´s face to light up as yours always does when he brings you gifts from his travels. But the boy looked at him with disappointment written all over his face. He never showed any interest in the art of swords, but Ayato kept telling himself that it was just a matter of time. 

Ayato tried to train for an hour that felt like an eternity, but his son did not want to cooperate. All he got was a huge bruise on his shin after the boy swung his new sword with the power of a grown man.

Your husband tried to keep his composure in front of you during breakfast and your questions about his weird walk were not answered. You knew all too well what happened because the screams of your son were probably heard by the whole island so you checked on them. 

“We will be in my office if you need anything.” Ayato kissed you and picked up the boy.

“Are you sure?” You smiled knowing just by looking at your husband how tired he was.

“Yes, my dear. Have some faith in me.” 

You wanted to, but knowing your son´s hyperactivity and Ayato´s need for peace and order… It was like a clash of titans and you wanted to help. Then you realize it is time for Ayato to step up as a father. To show your son the right example of a good man. So you stayed away. Even after hours of listening to constant running around the office, tearing sound of the papers, knocking down decorations… Until you heard the last knock. The doors of Ayato's office suddenly opened. When he saw you, he did not say a thing. He did not need to. His clothes were drenched from ink. Ayato disappeared for a moment so you peeked into his office and found it in complete disarray. Your boy was sitting there playing with an empty bottle of ink so you started picking up all the loose papers.

“Leave it. Please.” Ayato said out of nowhere. “I will take care of it later. Now is time for a little walk.”

Dressed in clean clothes he reached for his son and left. Your heart almost sank. It was not funny anymore and all you could do was to hope that their relationship would get better as soon as possible.

Ayato felt completely lost. How is it possible that he could make a deal even with the worst diplomats that this world has and he is not able to find a common ground with his own son?

As he walked down the lane full of Sakuras that he used to walk by with you by his side when he was still courting you, lost in his thoughts, the boy started shouting.

“Mommy, mommy!” 

Ayato turned over to look for you, but they were alone. “Mommy is home. She is not here.”

“Mommy, mommy, mommy!” The little boy kept shouting while reaching for something.

Ayato looked up and realized that all the boy wants are the flowers blooming on the trees. So he reached up to pick a few and handed them to the little one. The boy instantly got quiet and looked almost… content.

“Mommy. Yes, little man. You are right.” Ayato smiled. 

How could he possibly forget? On one of your walks, he picked a Sakura flower and put it in your hair. Since then, you always wear some once in a while to remind you of your beginnings.

“Let us go back and bring Mommy your gift. Ok?”

When they finally reached the borders of your home, the little boy started running towards the gardens. He spotted you immediately in your usual place and with a loud mumbling of random words he gifted you a beautiful bouquet of pink flowers.

“Wau! What a beautiful gift.” You kissed your proud son on his head as a thank you. “Did you pick them all by yourself?”

“No!” A loud shout filled the peaceful garden. “Daddy! Daddy, help!” The little boy shouted as he ran to Ayato and hugged him tightly around his leg.

“Oh? What a good daddy!” You smiled and looked at your husband. You would swear that you spotted tears in his eyes. 

Ayato was looking at you, unable to look away. No matter how hard his day was, he knew he would not want it any other way. Then he looked down at his son still hugging his leg and realized that he is going to be tall like him. He could not know it for sure, but he just knew. Tall just like him, with the hair of his beautiful mother and eyes in a perfect blend of both of you.

As he sat down next to you with your son in his lap, all he could think about was how thankful he was for being made to slow down and appreciate your work for your family. He always admired you for being a perfect wife and mother. But after this day, he was thankful even more and promised to take at least one day off to be with both of you.

Ayato that night held you and kissed you with so much care and love just like the day you gave him your son. He forgot for a moment that family will always be the most important thing. And he will never forget again.

[msschemmenti]

emergency contacts 📞

jemily x reader

a/n: life imitates art or whatever oscar wilde said :)

it really wasn’t that bad when she looked at it. but the blaring alarm from her phone was not helping the situation at all right now. y/n maneuvered her car out of the lane and onto the shoulder to put the car in park. it was 8:47 pm, dark as hell, in the middle of one of the busiest highways and of course she gets in a wreck. not her fault, but still very inconvenient. as she got out of the car she gazed around the passing cars and sighed at the sight of the car that had hit her.

the teen had come stumbling out of the car in a panic. apologizing profusely. and y/n could see, she needed to be the calm adult in this situation. the girls car was most definitely totaled and with the incident towing on their way, y/n couldn’t let the girl wait outside alone. so now they sat in her damaged rental on the side of the road waiting for all the appropriate officers to arrive. y/n had lent the young girl her phone to call her parents and once she’d returned it she was a little shocked to see the amount of notifications she had flooding her phone.

35 missed calls

20 messages sent in lovers <3

what the hell? y/n squinted as she unlocked her phone. what could possibly be going on right now. y/n went to open her text chain when her phone started ringing again— this time garcia.

“garcia? what is going on?” y/n asked feeling a low panic course through her. the team was in office and everyone should’ve been at home so something happening to her girlfriends was an extreme she wasn’t ready to entertain.

“are you okay? are you hurt? i’m pinging your location and it looks like you’re on the side of the road. i also see that emergency services have not been dispatched to the area yet. what is going on? your girlfriends are fre-eaking out right now. why haven’t you been answering your phone? are you okay?!”

“woman, slow down! what are you talking about? why are you pinging me right now?” y/n broke through garcia’s ramblings.

“angel, the girls got an emergency alert about you being in a car accident and when you didn’t answer the phone they called me demanding i find you.”

y/n pulled the phone away from her ear in disbelief, “they got a notification? since when was that a thing—“

“hey hey, focus! what happened? and quickly before jj and emily put a bounty on my head.”

“right right, a girl rear-ended me on the highway. i’m fine, i’ll probably be a little sore but nothing i can’t handle. we’re waiting for local pd to get here now.” y/n answered easily.

“oh thank god you’re okay. i need you to call them back now and let them know because im kinda scared of jj when she gets like this.” garcia urged before bidding the younger woman goodbye.

the phone barely rang once before jj’s voice filtered down the line. “baby? are you okay?” the panic was oh so clear in her voice and when y/n her call through the apartment for emily she frowned at the stress this whole thing had caused her girlfriends.

“jay, i’m fine. i got rear-ended on the highway—“ y/n attempted to soothe but the mention of the minor accident seemed to only egg the women on.

“rear-ended on the highway? are you getting checked out?” emily’s voice interrupted.

“no, i’m fine. not even a headache.” y/n tried to excuse.

a rather frustrated groan left both jj and emily’s throats and y/n knew they weren’t having it. “try again.” jj spoke first.

“i am fine. i don’t need to be check out, id just be wasting resources for people who actually need to be tended to.”

“nope, you know better than to try that shit with us. i want you thoroughly checked out before tomorrow.” emily all but growled.

“i don’t think this is fair. you literally just told me about the time you were shot at and you didn’t go to the hospital. you wouldn’t even sit in the back of the ambulance.” y/n rebuffed.

jj seeming to have calmed a bit snorted at their girlfriend’s words, “i bet you’re regretting telling that story now.”

“shut up jj.” emily grumbled.

“listen, i know you’re a little shaken up by the notification. and i know it’s not very helpful that im traveling for work and you can’t physically be with me but i need you guys not to freak out okay?” y/n pleaded quietly down the phone.

both jj and emily sighed before agreeing, “at least stay on the line with us until you get everything squared away with local pd?” jj suggested.

“of course, baby. anything for my emergency contacts.” y/n appeased.

“is that why we got the notification? i had no clue phones did that…wait we’re your emergency contacts? since when?” emily rambled.

“i don’t know, you remember i had that allergic reaction last month? both of you were gone but i knew you two were the first i wanted to know if anything happened to me. you don’t mind do you?” y/n asked self-consciously.

“no not at all baby, we love it.” jj soothed.

“yeah keep it that way.” emily affirmed.

“yes ma’am.” y/n spoke softly down the phone.

[katiascraft]

“am I too much for you? maybe I’m too much for everyone” | CL16

parings: Charles Leclerc x insecure!reader

summary: you feel insecure and you’re struggling but Charles makes sure you know how important you are to the world (specially his world).

now playing: “If I weren’t me” by Katherine Li

warnings: not English native speaker could there be errors. None proofread. Talk about sadness and destructive inner talk. Insecure reader. Readers pov’s.

words: +1,5k words.

a/n: heyyyy I am back!!! I disappeared for a year 💀 consistency it’s not my thing I guess. I’m finally finishing university this year!! So I guess I’ll have more time to write. Hope you like it! First on Charles. New obsession: F1 drivers. Get ready I got plenty more on my plans :p. Remember to like or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3

MASTERLIST

The piano tiles made the sound of the soundtrack of my sadness in this moment. My fingers touched them softly like they were fragile - like me.

Today was a nightmare from the start. Since I woke up I had a knot in my stomach that became bigger and bigger as the time passed through my routine. Sometimes itʼs really hard for me to do daily tasks such as cleaning or even eating. And it was harder if I need to go to events or meetings.

I have episodes of deep sadness Iʼve been treating on therapy. Sometimes I just canʼt control it. Today was one of those days where black and grey took over everything I felt and did. One way I found by being suggested by my therapist was writing down every thought of pain to find kind of a relief. Today itʼs really hard. Iʼm struggling really hard.

Iʼve been alone the whole day. Charles had to go to the Ferrari factory and do his driver tasks as usual. When I woke up he was gone. And maybe that contributed even more to my desperate and pathetic situation. Though I shouldnʼt talk about it like that and be more gentle with myself. It always felt to me negativity has always been my best friend and worst enemy at the same time.

Playing piano helped me so much. Write a song about my pain. Try to give a little light to all of this mess I find myself emerged in. Itʼs really hard for me to open up and seek help when I need it. Specially when it comes to Charles. I donʼt wanna be a burden to him. And I donʼt wanna stress him out with all of my dark side. I always try to brush it off when heʼs around. Most times I just pretend Iʼm happy and everything itʼs alright. As if I wasnʼt feeling too much for him. Or too less. Like Iʼm not worth of his love. Of his attention. Of his smiles. Of everything he did for me.

The fact that Charles asked me out had me shocked. Iʼve never felt like I could compete with all the models and influencers and singers and every really beautiful girl in this world. Iʼve never felt beautiful nor attractive. Yes Iʼm pretty good making jokes. And I talk too much. But Iʼve always felt I cringed people out. Dating people wasnʼt a thing I was really good at. Actually I sucked. And I think I still do. Always overthinking and second guessing every move. Every promise. Everything.

Charles was so sweet to me. He said “youʼre beautiful. Iʼm sure people tell you all the time. But you really areˮ. I couldnʼt help but get really nervous and blush. The most beautiful man Iʼve ever seen was talking to me and saying all of that. I blinked a couple of times. My smile huge. I just laughed softly trying to brush it off.

Since then we became a team. Inseparable. Charles became my best friend. My rock. I donʼt know what I ever did to deserve his love. The way he loved me was so gentle. So caring and loving. At first was hard because his love language was physical touch and that was something I wasnʼt used to. But little by little I got used to and felt amazing. Iʼve never felt so comfortable with anyone but him.

I hate my body. I feel ashamed of my personality. Most times I feel so dumb. So stupid.

I didnʼt realized I was already crying when I felt my tears dropping in my hands on the piano. I didnʼt realized I kept playing in auto-mode. When I was conscious again I started crying badly. I started shaking. I felt so bad. So guilty for even feeling this way. I didnʼt realized Charles have arrived home when I felt his deep voice from behind.

“Baby... whatʼs wrong? Youʼve been crying for a whileˮ I heard his voice and that sent shivers down my spine. I try to hold it together because I feel so embarrassed heʼs seeing me like this.

He sat next to me and hugged me. I hid my face on his neck feeling contempt. Thing is I started crying worse. I couldnʼt control it once it took on me.

“Itʼs okay baby. Itʼs okay.ˮ He whispered on my head while he stroke my hair and my arm pulling me closer. I thanked him mentally for this. I never thought I needed it so much.

Took a while until I calmed myself in his body. I part from him slowly and whipped my face with my hands. After I did he did the same. He whipped my tears so gently. He did the same looking me with bright eyes. Worry was all over his face. I licked my lips. “Iʼm sorry.ˮ I said quietly almost a whisper.

He denided with his head taking my head into his hands and stroked it softly.

“donʼt be sorry baby. Iʼm worried. Whatʼs wrong? Iʼm sorry I wasnʼt home to be with you. Why didnʼt you called me?ˮ I could feel the worry in his voice deep and cracking.

“I didnʼt want to bother to be honest. Itʼs one of those days. A really hard dayˮ my tears wanted to go out again but I holded them.

I saw his eyes turned into a sad look. He leaned on me and kissed my cheek to hugged me strongly in his arms afterwards. I buried my head in his shoulder. His smell calmed me down. I holded him pretty close to me. Strongly as him. I didnʼt want to let go.

“do you wanna talk about what you are feeling love?ˮ He whispered softly. I swallowed hard and pulled away from his so I could look into his beautiful eyes. I loved his eyes. So bright so blue sometimes. To me they felt like staring at the ocean. I stroked his face gently. He grabbed my legs on the little couch in front of the piano it our living room.

“This is one of those days where I donʼt feel enough or maybe too much to handle... all of this darkness in me that sometimes I just canʼt control it. You deserve someone confident and happy just like youˮ I told him softly and honestly. And it felt good to take it out of me for finally. I wanted to cry again but I was making my best efforts to keep it together.

“Cher... you are more than enough for me. You are the most beautiful soul Iʼve ever met. The most beautiful woman Iʼve ever seen. You are the sweetest most caring and fun person. Always there for people. You have the brightest personality. Every time you enter a room you shine. Everyone smiles. To me youʼre happiness though I know that isnʼt the whole you. Youʼre human baby. You are allowed to feel. And to not be okay. And to be okay too. You are not a burden for me. Youʼre my best friend. Mon amour. My future wife. The one whoʼs always there for me. My shoulder to cry on. The one with the greatest jokes. The life of every party I assist. You give a meaning to my life. A reason to live. You are a great daughter. The best friend someone could ask for. The greatest sister. You are a light for every single person that knows you y/n. Donʼt ever feel that you are too much to handle. And I really wanna go and kill the people who made you ever feel you were, I sware. You are amazing baby.ˮ While he was talking you couldnʼt hold it together. You just started crying. He let you do it while he whipped your tears lovingly. He seeing you like this broke his heart. You didnʼt deserve to feel like this. And he wished he could take away all of your pain. That you could see yourself the way he sees you. And feel how happy and enamoured you made him feel. “You can talk to me every time you need itˮ he continued. “you can trust me and we can figure it out together. You donʼt have to go through it alone. Okay? I love you with everything I am y/n. If I could I would take all of this pain away and just make you feel how I feel about you. I promise to me youʼre even better than Carlosˮ he said lastly jokingly making me laugh through my crying.

Now he had a huge smile on his face knowing he could make you feel better. I gave him a peck on his lips as a thank you and as an I love you.

“I donʼt know what I would do without you Charles...ˮ I said sincerely and full of love in between the lines. He gave another kiss back but now it was deeper in feelings. We kissed for a while and it felt that as the kiss continued my pain was going away feeling better every second. After the kissed I hugged him tightly. He gave kisses to my neck making me giggle a little. “I love you Charlie. Youʼre my angelˮ I whispered on his shoulder and he tightened the hug in response.

“And you are mine chérie“ he said burying his face on my shoulder.

——————————————————————————————

Charlie won COTA 🥹.

Hope you liked it 💌 if you have ideas my inbox is open for requests!

[lolaandthens0me]

Your rules for your 24/7 D/s dynamic?

Thanks for the question, Anon!

I absolutely love living within my 24/7 D/s dynamic with my partner/Daddy and it's something that I'm passionate to share about as I know it can seem like a really fun, but daunting idea. How do you take that fantasy and walk it out in real life within a committed adult relationship in a life partner sense?

I began wearing diapers 24/7 because @resonantyes expressed an interest in creating that rule within our budding dynamic a couple of years ago. We discussed what that would practically look like and also what we would want this rule to feel like to us within our relationship. I loved the idea as it would make me feel connected to him on a daily basis as we were in a long distance relationship at that time.

We came up with a few blanket rules that are still in effect today:

Diapers are the default, always. (Even when with potential other play partners and with my other partner.)

I am allowed to wear pull-up type undies (Goodnites, Ninjamas, etc.) when I am with family and also when I'm teaching or taking a yoga or other fitness class.

I can always ask if there are other reasons or occasions that I wish to wear pull-ups or undies. This request will be heard with good adult reasoning and may or may not be granted. ie) for a fancy dress situation, because I want to wear a lingerie set, for creating content, because I'm getting rashy and my skin needs a breather, etc.

A newer rule that emerged as time went on is that I am to use my diaper for everything...everything except in the case of traveling, staying with family/friends, or some other socially inappropriate time.

I have come to view my diaper as my collar of sorts. It is a sign of my commitment to Daddy, a role that he takes very seriously and with great care, honor, and respect. There is this low-level current underscoring my life reminding me that I am his, just as he is mine, with every crinkly step I take. We always leave space to bring concerns to each other and even purposely have check-ins about how we're both feeling within our dynamic. We ask questions like does anything need to be adjusted or perhaps added? Are we feeling happy and fulfilled in the ways that we want to be? Am I being a good girl? Is he being a good Daddy? Is this still the best thing for our relationship?

Other things that aren't necessarily rules but come along with being in our 24/7 D/s dynamic include always being changed by Daddy when we're together, having friends hold me accountable and doing diaper checks when he's not around and I'm at kinky get togethers, sending diaper check pics when we're not together, the occasional maintenance spanking over his knee just as a submissive act, the rare spanking as punishment, calling him Daddy when we're alone together or with kink friends, but using his real name in all other contexts, and generally behaving as a loving, caring, responsible partner above everything else. Just one who has rules, discreetly wears diapers, and is also his submissive.

[mym1na]

୨ৎ SKATER GIRL ─ HANNI PHAM.

— 001. RAN OVER, half written.

#FLASHBACK!

11:40 AM | 📍some sidewalk idk man

Hanni, on a random Friday, continued her routine. She got ready, left her house, and then skated to Minji’s house to hang out with the older girl.

Hanni was too busy enjoying the music that was playing on her headphones, letting her music and skateboard guide her through the path she takes almost every day, not paying any attention to her surroundings. So imagine the surprise she had when, the moment she gained consciousness, she suddenly noticed a figure that emerged from nowhere.

“What the fuck—” A sudden, panicked voice yelled out. Hanni's eyes bulged at the figure, skidding to a halt and nearly falling off her board after hearing the other faint voice. Hanni removed her headphones before looking over the girl to make sure she didn’t hit her in any way. “I’m so sorry!” Hanni says with a panicky and awkward stare.

“Did you almost kill me by running me over with a skateboard?” Yn’s brows furrowed with disbelief that she had almost died in a skateboard accident. Absolutely embarrassing.

“Well, I didn’t mean to,” Hanni replied, awkwardly grabbing her skateboard from the ground and sliding it under her arms to keep it still.

“And also, I doubt you would’ve died from it, so—uh.”

Yn frowned at this. “You don’t know that.” She says this while looking down at her watch.

“Shit. I’m late. Thanks for almost running me over; you made me even more late, gosh.” Yn says while moving away from Hanni, speed-walking past Hanni without any glance.

Hanni just watched the girl walk away, staring at her until she slowly disappeared from the distance.

“I should’ve asked for her number,” Hanni muttered to herself before blinking herself out of the trance she was stuck in. She shook her head before continuing the path she was on, on foot instead, just to make sure she wouldn’t almost run any more pretty girls.

12:05 PM | 📍Minji’s place (🏳️‍🌈)

“So, let me get this straight—” Minji paused to take a bite of the ice cream she was eating. “You almost did a hit-and-run on a skateboard; she was slightly rude, but yet you still wanted her number?” Minji said, trying to understand the situation properly and finding the whole thing silly in the best way possible. “What? I like them a little mean.” Hanni says with a huff, leaning into the chair she was sitting in as Minji snorts at the response she was given.

“Until they get too mean.”

“That’s why I said a little mean.” Hanni said.

Hanni let out a depressive sigh. “You think I’m going to see her again?”

Minji shrugged, putting her ice cream down beside her and pulling out her phone. “I don’t know; probably, apparently, we all meet someone twice.”

“I hope I meet her again.”

“That girl probably told you to kill yourself, and you’re over here like, 'awhhh, I miss this girl'; you don’t even know her.” Minji made fun of the girl for being in a lover girl era with someone who seems to not give a fuck.

“Okay and?? Don’t be jealous that a pretty girl looked in my direction.” Hanni rolled her eyes with a huff.

Minji snorted once more, now scrolling on her phone, probably wandering around in the jungle called the internet. Minji’s brow furrowed in curiosity as she stared down at her phone. “Haerin replied to a tweet.”

“Okay…?” Hanni questioned why Minji was telling her this, as, you know, everyone replies to something.

“To a girl who is complaining about almost getting run over by a skateboard.” Minji finished her sentence, and not even two seconds later, Hanni was by her side, looking at the girl’s phone.

“What.” Was all Hanni said before grabbing Minji’s phone out of her hands, quicker than the flash.

“Hey!”

“Shhh.” Hanni moved her hand towards Minji’s mouth, covering it so the girl could keep quiet.

Hanni stared at Haerin's reply. Going to the girl’s account and straight to the following so she can find her “hit and run” girl.

“Is that stalking?” Minji muffled from Hanni’s hand. Hanni quickly took her hand off Minji’s mouth to give her a quick slap on the head before landing her hand right back on Minji's mouth. Earning herself a small “ow” from the girl.

“No.”

“I’m gonna text her.”

Minji quickly removed Hanni’s hand from her mouth, snatching her phone back. “Text her on your phone, not mine, you stupid gay.”

Hanni let out an annoyed sigh before rushing to pull out her phone. Repeating the same steps as before, she stopped and thought to herself, Maybe it did seem like she was stalking if she just sent her a dm.

“I’m gonna text Haerin.”

“Why?”

“…I don’t want to look like I’m stalking.” Hanni sent Minji a glare, knowing the girl was going to take that as a win, like Hanni was admitting to stalking.

Minji went to open her mouth, but before she could, Hanni spoke before her.

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything!” Minji acted shocked, throwing her hands up in the air as if she wasn’t going to do anything.

MASTERLIST | NEXT

[OPEN] TAGSLIST ༄ @saysirhc @aeriigfs @sixflame438 @idkwhatim-doinghere101 @luvqiris @frenchyypoo @wintersgff

[maluuustrawberry]

Undesirable encounter

(Claude Frollo X Female reader)

Synopsis: You were the new seamstress in Paris and Frollo suspects that you were harboring Romani in your shop. It looks like your first start was more tense than you expected...

A/n: I confess that I am in love with the Hunchback of Notre-Dame and I especially love the book. I hope you readers like it, and if you want to give me tips I accept (you can correct me too) If you want other Disney characters, you can ask me💕.

(Guys, I don't know if you know, but the word "gypsy" is a slur and should not be used, the correct one is "Roma" Or "Romani people" I put "Gypsy" only in Frollo's lines since you know the type of person he is.)

It was just another ordinary day in Paris, you had arrived in the city a few months ago and worked as a dressmaker. You immediately became known for the beautiful dresses you produced for the girls and the beautiful clothes for the boys too. You had an excellent aesthetic sense.

But what you had in the way of talent, you also had in the way of kindness. When you heard about the persecution of the Romani people, you felt touched by the situation and decided to help them. It was very risky, but you weren't going to stand by and let it happen like the other citizens of Paris were doing, letting themselves be manipulated by Frollo and his hate speeches. There was a basement in your house that you used to store fabric and sewing materials. You took advantage of that room to help some Romani hide in case of emergency if they were being chased by the guards and if there was no time to run to the court of miracles.

And so it went on, you were extremely careful not to leave any traces, until one day or another these "rumors" ended up reaching the judge.

You were sewing up the sleeves of a client's dress, which had been placed in the moulage to make it easier for you to work, and your attention now turned to the bell that rang as soon as the door was opened. Immediately, the atmosphere of the place changed when you saw who had entered. You knew those clothes, the face worn by age and you couldn't forget that look of superiority and pride, because himself thought he was important and better than everyone because of his opposition and faith. Looking behind those glass windows, you could also see some of his men at the front of the store:

“Bonjour, madame.” Frollo said sternly, snapping you out of your thoughts. That thick, authoritative voice gave you the creeps. “I'd like to know who owns this establishment. Your husband is here?”

“A-Ah! Good morning...” You forced a smile and stuck the needle into the moulage so you wouldn't lose it. “Your Honor, I'm the owner, and no, I don't have a husband.”

As you said this, the judge looked you up and down with contempt. Of course, in the 16th century, a young woman like you not being married was a disgrace to society, and on top of that, being able to read and owning your own business was even worse. You weren't tense or nervous with him in your store, on the contrary, you were so calm... After all, you cleaned out the basement and removed any evidence as soon as a family of Romani's moved out recently:

“I've received information that you've been harboring gypsies in your house and I'm here to find out the facts, have you been harboring gypsies?” He got straight to the point.

“No, sir.” You pretended to be as honest as possible, fortunately you were good at lying.

“You know that if you lie, the sentence for insubordination is death...” He moved closer in an attempt to intimidate her.

“My conscience is clear. You have permission to investigate my store, since my words don't apply to you.”

“If I wasn't allowed to, seamstress, I'd still make a point of searching this place from top to bottom, whether you agree or not.”

The older man signaled for some of his men to enter the store before you could protest or complain. Since you were the only one who seemed to have enough courage to go against the judge's ideas when you were right. They went in and started rummaging around for clues, looking everywhere, even under the skirts of the dresses on the mannequins.

Frollo looked you up and down in an nothing unobtrusive way, you didn't notice the glances, but as soon as you did, it gave you the creeps and you avoided looking back at him. He had never noticed you in the city before and he noticed your accent, deducing that you might be a foreigner. The judge couldn't take his eyes off you, you were a very beautiful woman and seemed so delicate, and it seems that some feeling awakened in him when he saw that you were without gloves and your dress showed your shoulders. He came out of his thoughts when a guard approached:

"Sir, we've looked everywhere and found nothing..." Being a clever woman, an idea came to your mind: perhaps it would be better if they looked at everything to leave you alone.

"Have you looked in my basement, gentlemen?" you asked, kicking the rug that hid the small door in the wooden floor of your store.

Frollo was suspicious, but sent his men in to search every corner of the small cellar. Fortunately, they didn't find anything either, just sewing materials and expensive fabrics. After looking around in vain, the men left the store, leaving you and the judge alone:

“I apologize for this inconvenience.” He said as you went to the moulage to finish the dress.

“You shouldn't believe every rumor out there, Your Honor, not all of them can be true.” You said politely. “but apologies accepted, I know it was for the good of Paris and you care a lot about the city.”

Returning to work, you thought he would leave after all that had happened and notice you "busy" sewing, but no, he stayed in the store while walking slowly around analyzing his surroundings:

“This basement...” He pointed to the carpet above the small door. “Why was it hidden?”

“I don't see the need to show everyone that I have a basement here.” You replied nonchalantly. “and besides, I think that old door would spoil the pretty look of my store.”

Frollo didn't seem to believe in that very much, but you shrugged and continued sewing. There were a few seconds of silence, you could only hear his footsteps coming towards you and could feel that man's gaze on you all the time, causing you a certain nervousness or fear. What did he want anyway?

“Do you want anything else?” you asked in an attempt to break the silence and take your mind off the discomfort of feeling his gaze on you, stopping your sewing and looking at him now.

“I just want you to know.” He said, standing close and looking at her with disgust. “I'll keep an eye on you, I won't trust a literate, single woman so easily... I know women of your kind.”

“I don't think who I am or what I do has anything to do with helping... Ouch!” You interrupted yourself with pain when you felt the needle pierce your finger. It was normal for this to happen when were working with sewing, but it had never been this deep, Maybe it happened because of the anger you was feeling at that moment.

Immediately you dropped the needle out of sheer instinct, and in a quick and daring moment Frollo grabbed your hand with a certain amount of force, bringing it in front of his face, which had a small smile of satisfaction on it. The judge was a sadomasochist, he enjoyed seeing someone in pain, especially when it was someone he thought deserved such a punishment. You were shocked by his attitude, you weren't expecting it and didn't know how to react. What was he doing? Frollo continued to hold your hand, watching the small drop of blood ooze from your pricked finger, but his attention wasn't just there, it was on your fingers, your soft skin and the sensation it brought when you touched it with the contact of the warm hand and his, which was a little cold:

“What are you doing?” You asked, with a bit of hatred for such a vulgar and daring attitude, and he laughed a little.

“What would the church think of a woman exposing her bare hands in front of a high-ranking man like me?” You had no reaction for fear. Gradually his fingers entwined in yours and you saw that his eyes went to your small cleavage and your bare shoulders. “And it's not just your hands that are exposed...”

You quickly pulled your hand free and he looked at you incredulously:

“My hands are only exposed because I can't wear gloves when I sew, and you still don't have the right to do that. It's in the Bible; If your eye or your hand causes you to sin, throw it away!” A small smile came to Frollo's face when he heard that.

“So bold... It's typical of women like you to turn away from guilt in order to confuse men's minds with pagan thoughts, but that doesn't matter any more...”

He walked away, heading for the door to leave, but first his attention turned to you:

“It was a nice chat, seamstress... I want you to make me a cloak and sew me a pair of gloves, I'll be expecting you to deliver them tomorrow night.”

After saying that, he left, leaving you with no reaction to what had just happened. You were angry, but at the same time relieved that he hadn't found out. As soon as he left, you stared at your hand, which he touched and intertwined with his large, thin fingers. You'd have to be more careful now, he'd be stalking you and the reason wouldn't just be because he suspected you of helping the Romani people, it would be because of something else and you know exactly what it was and what his intentions were...

End...

[in-som-niyah]

Jason todd who would def cut patrol short when reader calls him cuz her vibrator died??? idk i literally see his weakness as being needed in any way... <333

a/n: anon ur so right

"I'm on my way pretty girl, just sit tight for me."

warnings: piv sex, explicit smut, semi-rough sex, reader masturbates, reader has a vibrator, mentions of other sex toys, jason todd is a whore, no beta we die like men, jason uses spanish petnames because its sexier i dont make the rules, reader has a vagina, reader masturbates, sexual frustration, mentions of heaven & idk what else

The chill of another Gotham night kissed your supple skin. Fresh out of the shower, you made your way back to your Jason-less bed for the night.

The routine of Jason being gone on patrol was painfully familiar, but the ache it left in your chest remained foreign, no matter how many times you experienced it.

This time, he left in a hurry after you both left your business unfinished. His lips sucked at your neck and made their way down to your collarbone, only for his alarm to go off and his helmet to be tugged on. 'I'll see you after patrol, amorcita' he said, knowing full well he would be home around 4 am.

This left an ache in you. Not a fire yet, no, but a craving to be fed what he starved you of hours ago.

Finally dry and setting your towel down, you find a pair of clean underwear and a loose pyjama shirt and lower yourself into bed.

It was a cold night, the frigid sheets and absence of Jason only making it worse. Despite the discomfort, you couldn't deny yourself the subtle pleasure of rubbing your thighs together to satiate the pressing situation between them.

It had been so long since Jason left, and you were fucking needy for Christ's sake.

Deciding to get the job done yourself, you pull out the bullet vibrator that you used when Jason wasn't around. It wasn't that you deliberately kept him from it, he just never asked, and you needed a little escape when he left you in such a state.

Spreading your legs under the covers, you lightly stroked your clit with one hand, while the other toyed with your nipple.

You haven't even turned the damn thing on and you're a panting, dripping mess already, soaking your surrounding area in sweat and stickiness.

Your index finger pressed on the power button, and you increased the pressure on your clit. Instantly, you saw stars and the relief was unimaginable.

Just as you got a steady rhythm going, everything stopped.

You pressed and held down the power button again, but nothing happened.

Your puffy pussy begged for more stimulation, something as intense as the now-gone vibrations, but it was too late. There was no time to charge and all your other toys were dead.

Trying to still at least finish, you employ both your hands between your legs, one rubbing hard circles on your clit and the other prodding at your weeping entrance.

Tears of dissatisfaction burned rivers in your hot cheeks, and your fingers began to tremble and give out. It had been 45 minutes of trying to get yourself anywhere near an orgasm, and your desperation has reached its limit.

Jason always told you to call him in case of an emergency, and this was beginning to be a fucking emergency.

Jason was taking down a group of goons with his guns, while punching and kicking those who came too close. He was much less coordinated tonight (thanks to the tent in his pants), which the gang members took full advantage of. Thoughts of you and your supple skin ran marathons in his head, clouding all focus and occupying all his mental real-estate, making it hard to pay attention to the current pressing issues.

Just as he finished his last one off, his helmet alerts him of an incoming call from you. This is extremely strange, as you don't call or text when he's out at all. He picks up though, panting but quite anxious at the sudden change.

Before he has a chance to ask, you cut him off.

"please jay i-i need you..."

"Huh? What happened princess? Are you alright? Are you safe?" Jason blurts in a frenzy.

"y-yes but i n-need you and it hurts..." You whine pitifully.

"What hurts hm? Tell me, princessa." He continues worriedly as he mounts his motorcycle ready to speed back to you.

You moan at the pet name, sticky fingers returning to your abused cunt and beginning to rub at your clit again in hopes of creating some friction.

"Darling?"

Sudden embarrassment kept your form being straightforward with him and you resorted to another whimper of dissatisfaction once again.

"J-just come home, please Jay?"

"I'm on my way pretty girl, just sit tight for me." Jason responded with a click of the line going dead.

In the meantime, you were a pitiful writhing mess, voice hoarse and hands shaking. The covers have long been forgotten, leaving your open thighs trembling with both frustration and the cold.

Jason was shitting himself. Between your defeated pleas for him to just come home coupled with your reluctance to be specific, he was terrified.

His mind kept replaying scenarios of horror and bloodshed as he ignored every single traffic law to get back to you.

Finally outside your shared apartment, he flung himself up the fire escape and through your kitchen window. When it was deemed safe, he took off his mask and called out to you. He was met with a desperate sobs in response, which only made his worry grow.

Hard footsteps could be heard making their way closer to you, making you flinch slightly.

Upon flinging open the bedroom door, Jason was sorely unprepared to meet such a pitiful sight.

There you were, spread open for all to see. Cunt swollen and wet, dripping like a faucet onto the sweat-soaked sheets. Your braids ran wild behind you as your bonnet had slipped off and your entire body was trembling due to the chill in the air.

Even as his huge form stood over you, your shaky and tired hands continued to rub at your clit, desperate for relief. Your bitten lips were still being chewed and your teary eyes remained squeezed shut.

Jason softened and hardened at the same time, but in different places.

You open your eyes to find him in his tactical gear looming over you and your hands immediately fly up from you body to make grabby hands at him.

He manages a genuine, soft smile despite the carnal desire brewing in his pants.

Before he indulges though, he need to make sure you're okay first.

"Hey, I'm right here love. You alright?" He whispers over your shaking body, his hand volunteering to rub your calf in effort to soothe your shaking.

"J-Jay? fuck I need-" you sob as your trembling hand returns to your abused clit once again.

He catches your hand and kisses the back of it, knowing that this will only overstimulate you. However, this was all the confirmation he needed. Jason stripped himself quickly and crawled his way up to you on the bed.

"Shhhh I know querida, I know... Does it hurt?" Jason questions, trying to gauge the situation the best he could.

You nod fervently, just wanting some fucking relief. Your hips were sore from being in such an open position for so long, your breasts and nipples were raw, and oh god you didn't want to acknowledge the burning between your legs.

Just then, Jason captured your lips with his as soft reassurance. This gentleness didn't last, as your desires began to overtake your mouths and soon, you were both hungrily devouring each other.

Jason was here, with you, right here, right now. 

His hands began to roam, your body, soothing all the tension and frustration that was once there. It hurt him to feel your muscles trembling in such a painful way, but also inspired him to make them shake for a more intimate purpose.

Jason's mouth made its way down your body, from the back of your left ear to your collarbone, making your gasp as he left marks of his devotion in his wake. His journey led him to the valley between your breasts, where his hands began to knead your right breast with practiced skill.

"J-Jay please- oh~"

At your call, his head perks up from where he was kissing down your stomach, just above your navel.

Jason's lustful green eyes settle on your pleading and desperate gaze, to which he smirks and settles the side of his head on your soft tummy and continues holding your gaze.

"Tell me how you want me, cariño"

You bit your lip. All this longing has robbed you of your ability to think, and in the most crucial moment, your mind went blank.

Seeming to notice, Jason moves himself back up to your face, silver chain dangling from his neck over yours, and employs his left hand to smooth your braids from your face.

"You want me to fuck you like the heavens have forsaken us, hm?"

You moan and nod, one of your hands moving to his weeping length and beginning to stroke it.

Jason devours you again, making you eat his moans and whimpers, and finally positions himself between your legs.

Upon swiping a thick finger between your folds he realizes that he's completely good to go, no prep needed.

"Deep breath, mami~" he grits out. He doesn't wait for a response before he's pushing himself all the way in.

You both moan in unison, and continue to do so as Jason's thrusts pickup speed and force.

As soon as he's found a rhythm his mouth and hands didn't leave your body. His chain dangled closely above you as he kissed your cheeks and neck, and his hands kneaded and squeezed wherever they went.

Surprising to neither of you, Jason's pace quickly became brutal, but he continued hitting all the sensitive spots inside your warm walls. His roughness never overshadowed his ability to bring you pleasure, he made sure of that.

Remembering your sore hips, Jason pulls a pillow under your ass to change the angle, which allows him to reach that much deeper inside you.

Your pussy clenches hard at the newfound pleasure and the coil in your lower tummy begins to unravel.

"You like that 'ma? This tight pussy tells me you do." He chuckles.

All you can do is moan and grip the soft sheets for dear life; Jason was making you see Andromeda. 

The coil, never forgotten, was closing in quickly, by which Jason was undeniably privy to due to your walls closing on on him.

You threw your head back and tried to stay in the moment without getting lost in the anticipation of your impending orgasm.

At this, Jason's now free hand found the back of your head and lifted it back up to meet his gaze.

"Amorcita? I know you're close, mi vida. You know what I want" Jason whispers against your mouth, his breath ghosting over your bitten and swollen lips.

The coil was becoming unbearable now. You were teetering on just the edge, just the painstaking precipice of and absolutely mind-bending orgasm.

You notice that Jason was getting sloppier, and his thrusts quicker and not as deep. His quick breaths became laboured and his eyes screwed shut. He was close. 

"You're right there darling. C'mon, cum with me." He says before he smashes his lips on yours and thrusts hard. The coil in your tummy finally snapping at the surprise.

Galaxies and other stars bathed in white bliss was all you were able to perceive as the long-awaited orgasm claimed every blazing nerve in your body. No longer cold, but cozily warm your body felt as the waves of pleasure continued to cascade throughout your body.

Your other half was pushed over the edge by your climax, which then painted your insides a sticky white while he groaned in your ear upon release.

You were too far gone to notice his thrusts coming to a stop and his hands running themselves up and down your sides, gently coaxing your back in the present with him.

"Mami? You back with me yet" Jason whispers in your neck.

You barely register what he's saying, outside stimulation being very hazy and distant.

"Hmm?"

"I asked if you're with me yet." He says with a laugh. You looked so lost but finally content.

You nod your head, but this was't sufficient.

"Words, querida."

"Yeah, I'm good." You respond with a sigh.

Though you knew tomorrow morning would be hell on your muscles, you were finally satisfied and happy.

Jason kissed your forehead and got up to get a towel, but stopped once he got to the ensuite bathroom and turned to look at you while leaning on the doorframe.

"Oh and baby?"

You turn over to look at him, your eyes not being able to fight the urge to roam the expanse of his glorious body as if your guts weren't already rearranged.

"Hmm?"

"I hope you never charge that vibrator again."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a/n pt2: PHEWWWW YALL THIS TOOK SO LONG AND MY BROWSER QUIT AND I ALMOST LOST ALL MY PROGRESS

anyways its 3am night night

[penelopepine]

‘Mini Me’ was the CUTEST thing ever!!! I’m also here to beg for more Graves x Reader content 🙏. Could you write about Graves saving Reader from a home invasion?

THANK YOU! I'm so glad you liked it, and I hope you like this. I had a blast writing it so thank you for the ask!!

Intruder Alert!

Phillip Graves x Fem Reader

Content: Home invasion, light angst, fluff, guns Word Count: 1930

It’s become something of a habit for you both to call each other whenever possible at this time. You’re already laying down in bed, your favorite show is on and a book lays in your lap, when Phillip calls you right on the dot as usual. 

You turn off the TV and answer before the first ring is even finished as you happily exclaim into the phone, “Phillip!” 

“Evening sweetheart, you doing ok?” He asked; his voice low but comforting. “You better be in bed at this hour.” 

With a slight huff you reply, “I am, I am don’t worry. Just reading the book you got me. You didn’t have to do that you know.” It had been a total surprise for you when you came home one day to a package on your doorstep knowing full well that you hadn’t ordered anything recently. Even more of a surprise when it had been the final book of a series you had been raving about to Phillip just a few days ago. You had also mentioned how the last book had just come out as well.

“Nonsense, I gotta spoil my girl even when I’m not there.” 

“You’re too good to me, baby. Thank you. I love it so much; I’ll have to show you some appreciation whenever you come home.” 

You hear through the phone Phillip take a sharp breath when he hears your words before chuckling to himself as he growls out, “is that so? What sort of … appreciation do you have in mind?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to give anything anyway.” 

“Sweetheart, it’s not nice to-.” 

Crash!

That was the sounds of glass shattering downstairs, but that's not all though - you can hear someone cursing and the sound of footsteps under glass. You're suddenly regretting having those big bag windows installed.

It takes you a few seconds to realize that Phillip is calling your name; there's actually a lot of noise coming from his side of the phone now.

"Philip, I think someone's in the house." 

"Sweetheart," his voice firm, but filled with concern, "You need to do exactly as I say; do you understand?"

"I- I understand." 

"Good good, everything is going to be alright. I'm on my way to you now." You can hear the sound of a car door slamming as he says that. It's a half an hour drive from the base to here; you've seen him make it in twenty though. "Get up - slowly, and lock the bedroom door." 

Shakily you do as he says; trying to calm your thundering heart as if whoever is here can hear it and will come barging into the room. The tiny click of the door lock sounds out like a church bell on Sunday.

"It's locked." You're honestly not even sure you spoke with how softly you whispered those words, but you must have because Phillip is giving you his next command as soon as you're finished speaking them. 

“Now in my night stand - bottom drawer, is a case grab it. Go to the bathroom and lock that door as well before doing anything else with it.” 

“Isn’t that your-?” 

“Yes. Grab it.” 

It was Phillip’s gun case. He’s shown you how to use the gun inside of it about every month. For emergencies he had always said; you’ve never thought about having to actually use it on another person though. 

Pushing that thought down though you quickly get yourself settled in the now locked bathroom. “I have it; the door is locked.” 

“You know what I’m going to ask next, sweetheart. Just … just keep it close and ready. I’m almost there.” You could tell that Phillip was trying to calm for your sake right now. This was something you two had talked about though being a possibility. It’s so different being in the real situation though. 

Sitting down on the cold floor you open the case, and pull out the gun. It feels so much heavier than it ever has in your hands. 

It was in that moment that you heard the unmistakable creak of third from the top step on the stairs - it was the only one that ever made any noise. Whoever was here was now on the second floor, and only a few steps away from you. 

Quickly you pull the phone away from your ear to check how long it’s been. Everything feels as if it’s been going a mile a minute surely Phillip is almost here - six minutes. It’s only been six minutes. It could easily take another twenty for your husband to get here. 

The intruder must be at your door now because the next thing you hear is the rattle of the locked bedroom door. It wouldn’t be something you would normally hear, but in the dead quiet it's the only thing you can hear. That and the sound of Phillip’s car speeding his way towards you over the phone. 

All you can do now is wait and hope that this is just some thief who is there to steal whatever they find valuable, and not for anything related to Phillip because if they are, you know a locked door is not going to stop them from getting to you. 

It’s silent for a few minutes after that, and you really think that the locked door has deterred whoever it is that entering is not worth the hassle. That is of course not true because the next thing you know is that the bedroom door is being kicked open with a loud bang as the door and wall collide with one another. 

You can’t help but gasp as you hear it, as you do Phillip is worryingly calling your name. When you don’t immediately reply he continues, “I’m almost there; hang in for a few more minutes for me. I’m-” 

Phillip’s voice suddenly cuts off from whatever he was going to say. Pulling your phone away from your ear again you see that your phone has died. Oh.

Meanwhile in the bedroom you can hear the person shuffling around; drawers being opened and closed with no consideration for noise. You pull the gun up and steady your aim to the door. It’s only a matter of time before they try and knock this door down as well after all. 

You know you're only going to have one real shot though. Whoever is on the other side is definitely more prepared for a confrontation than you are - probably a lot stronger than you are too. 

Looking to your side you debate going out the window. You’re on the second floor, but as long as you do a somewhat decent landing you’re not in any danger of dying from the fall. It’s the fear of breaking something though that stops you from just making a run for it. Breaking a wrist or arm would hurt like a bitch, but it’d be doable. A leg though would probably put you in a worse situation then the one you’re currently in. 

With minutes that feel like hours you wait for the inevitable to happen. Only that’s not what happens because all of a sudden you hear a loud pained grunt and what sounds like two people fighting. 

Phillip. 

It has to be him. You don’t think anyone else would be inside fighting the intruder. 

You don’t open the door though. During your talks about this kind of situation Phillip always told you to wait for him - he’d be the one to give you the signal that it was safe to leave whatever hiding space you managed to find. 

Just as quickly as it started though it’s over. You can’t hear anything anymore. That is until four knocks on the bathroom door sound out - the signal. 

Immediately you're running to unlock the door. When throw open the door Phillip pulls you into his arms, and guides you back into the bathroom. “Thank fuck you’re alright, sweetheart.” 

“I’m alright,” You’re more concerned about him right now though, “What about you though? Are you hurt anywhere?” 

Try as you might to pull away and check him over his grip on you does not loosen. “I’m fine. Just let me hold you right now.” 

You don’t know how long the two of you stand there just embracing one another, and frankly you don’t care to know. It would have been longer if not for Phillip’s phone suddenly ringing out. It’s obvious that he doesn’t want to let go quite yet with how he gives you one more hard squeeze before letting go, and grabbing his phone. 

“Graves speaking … good, come inside and handle the trash. I’m heading back to base.” It’s fairly obvious who he was talking to, but you still have to ask.

“Are the shadows here? How are they here already?” 

“I called Erikson to get his ass here with a few boys after our call was cut out.” Phillip releases a deep breath and rests his forehead on yours, “You had me cursing up a storm when that happened, sweetheart. What have I told you about keeping your phone charged?” 

Of course he knew it was because your phone died. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to let it get below 50% after this.” 

“Probably for the best.” You watch as Phillip now pulls away fully and grabs the gun from where you had left it; hostlering it to his side. “Now let’s get out of here. You’re staying on base until I get a new security system installed.” 

He is then pressing you into his side as his hand comes up to cover your eyes. “Phillip?” 

“Don’t want you seeing anything, sweetheart. Let me guide you out of here for now.” 

You don’t put up anymore of a fuss at that, and you also don’t really want to see whatever lies in the bedroom right now. With that he’s quick to get you out of the bedroom, and out into the hallway. There he does finally let you see again as he continues to pull you down the stairs. 

As you get to the bottom a small group of shadows are entering the house. They give Phillip a nod before hurriedly passing him as they make their way up the stairs now. 

“Wait, I should pack something before we leave.” You say remembering how he had said that you’d be staying at the base. 

“Well come by in the morning, sweetheart. After the boys get things cleaned up.” He reassures you as he practically carries you out of the house to his car. The ride for the most part is silent besides the low singing from the radio. Philip also doesn’t let go of your hand once during the whole ride as if he let go you’d disappear. 

Once back at base the first thing he does is get you settled in his room and bed. He lays down next to you, having you flush against his chest. “I love you so much, sweetheart. I don’t know what I would do without you.” 

“I love you too; I’m here - I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Damn right you’re not.” You feel Phillip relax for the first time tonight as he gives your neck a small kiss. 

You can’t help but think how everything, despite what happened just about an hour ago, right now feels perfect. Being in Phillip’s arms will never not fix everything for you. With that thought you drift off into sleep knowing that everything tomorrow will be alright as long as you have him with you. 

[agoodroughandtumble]

Roronoa Zoro x Reader - I Didn't Need Saving Part 2

Status: Incomplete Summary: Reader is hurt after battling with the marines Warnings: 18+. Language, injury, implied violence (in keeping with the show)

It wasn’t Zoro’s proudest moment, walking away from you. Not when you were injured, not when you were looking at him so desperately. Not when the entire situation was a direct consequence of his actions. You had saved his life, thrown him away from a danger his arrogance hadn’t even registered. And now you were beaten and broken all because of the misguided assumption that somehow his life was more precious than your own.

Fuck he hated you. Hated that you could so casually throw away everything, hated that you were so stupid enough to think that it would be possible for him to carry on without you.

He didn’t know what love was but if it was self-loathing and guilt at your expense he had that in abundance. If it was the way your smile made his heart leap, the overwhelming urge to be close to you, to be good enough for you, to rip open his chest and let you make yourself a home there, well, then he was fucked beyond all reprieve.

Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe it was the worst thing. Either way, he wasn’t going to risk being alone with you again. At least he could be certain of that.

Two days later he was stood outside your door. Pacing. Nami had said you had been asking for him. That meant one of two things: Nami was tired of covering his shifts so was passing on the buck, or you actually wanted to see him. Which, after how he left you, was not something he was particularly looking forward to. Unfortunately, you were a request he was fundamentally unable to refuse – even if he had actually wanted to.

Hence his pacing.

The irony was not lost on Zoro. The Demon Pirate Hunter was scared of a girl with a hole in her side. But scared of what he wasn’t quite sure. Scared you would yell at him, or be disappointed, angry, spit venom at him again. But what if you didn’t. What if he allowed himself to consider the possibility that you felt a fraction of what he felt? What if you had saved his life because it was him and not because he was a crew member and you were clearly an idiot with a death wish.

Guilt prickled its way up his spine. He was, at least, going to have to acknowledge you at some point. He knocked on the door frame – the door being open in case of an emergency, but he had deliberately been pacing out of sight.

No answer.

Fine. Good. He could leave now – tell Nami he tried but you weren’t up for seeing anyone.

He made it two steps.

Fuck.

Zoro turned around and walked into the room with the determination that only someone who nearly lost it all could have. He’d come this far.

“Come to kill me then?” There was humour in your voice, albeit laced with sarcasm.

He let out a relieved sigh. Maybe you weren’t that pissed off with him. “Only if you pull a stunt like that again.”

You shuffled under the covers and he couldn’t help but be grateful at the ease with which you seemed to move. “I’m promising nothing.”

“Yes you are.”

His sudden serious tone caught you off guard and you hoisted yourself onto your elbows, and although Zoro would rather you didn’t exert yourself he was glad to see you moving without wincing.

You looked at him expectantly, “What am I promising?”

He slumped onto the chair Nami had placed at your bedside and rested his swords against the wall by the headboard next to you. “You’re promising not to leave me.”

You rolled your eyes. The nonchalance with which he spoke failing to convey his meaning until it was too late. “I didn’t leave y- … oh.”

Once again, Zoro felt the familiar rising of guilt starting at the base of his spine, slowly traversing upwards as he watched a thousand expressions cross your face, felt the weight of a thousand unspoken promises embedded in his shoulders. When he looked down at you it was nigh on impossible to say anything that wasn’t his hopeful heart trying to meet yours. He cast his gaze very firmly on anything, everything that was decidedly not you. Anything but you. “A swordsman is no swordsman if he can’t protect his friends.”

Your face dropped only a fraction of a second sooner than his heart. “Well I’m glad we’re friends.”

Zoro searched for some sarcasm only to be met with something else. It was a rare shade on you – embarrassment - and one he didn’t much care for. He sighed. Somehow he had already managed to make things worse. Not for the first time, he wished he could be someone else for you. Someone better. Someone like Luffy with his endless optimism to put a smile on your face, someone like Usopp to take you on an adventure with his fantastical tales. Hell, even someone like that shitty cook who never had any inhibitions when professing his undying love to whichever woman was the latest to catch his eye. But he was Zoro. And apparently that meant all he was good for was failing you.

Failure was not something he was accustomed to. His whole life was built around striving for perfection – whether that was through swordsmanship or being first mate. Failure seeped into his bones, became an obsession, clawing at him. And here you were, unbeknownst and unapologetic. Seeped into his bones. Carving your way into his soul as if it was the easiest thing in the world, as if you had belonged there all along. But you were friends. Because Zoro had failed. Again.

He really should have brought some sake with him. The look of uncertainty, the way you pulled the covers to try to hide as much as yourself as possible, make yourself smaller would be much easier to swallow washed down with alcohol.

He wanted to reach a hand out, rub a reassuring thumb across your cheek. To tell you he was being an arsehole – to somehow articulate that the feeling of hope of reciprocation your actions had arisen in him could in no way compare to the fear of losing you. He wanted to tell you he wasn’t worthy of such an act – and he was so, so angry that you would rather he lost his soul, his heart, his only chance at true happiness over his life. He could happily, willingly, die a thousand deaths if you lived. But if you died. If you left him devoid of all hope and salvation, he could certainly learn how to hate you then.

“I should go.” It was almost a question but one he couldn’t bring himself to ask. Zoro watched as you shuffled further into the covers – protecting yourself. He should be protecting you. He should be holding you in his arms. He should be doing everything and more. But he wasn’t. He was walking out of the door before you could respond. He was failing.

[bimbosanddolls]

State of the Bimbo - New Year, Same Kiki

Hi Barbie!

A new year is approaching and, after the emotional roller coaster that was 2023, I’m deciding to dedicate 2024 to being the best version of myself because honestly… I deserve it. 

With that in mind, there is something that I've been debating telling you all for a long time. I’ve hinted at it in asks and such for a while, I’ve talked openly about it with people in DMs, but I’ve never actually said it outright on my blog.

I am a trans woman. I have always been a trans woman. I am also a bimbo. This isn’t just a kink for me; it’s a big part of who I am and who I'm becoming more and more every day.

So why did I wait so long to say something? Time for a quick history lesson and some Kiki lore. When I started this blog like 10 years ago, there was a super popular bimbo creator named Summer (also known as @bimboisbetter) and there was a huge controversy because Summer came out as a catfish. She was a man pretending to be Summer. Looking back, part of me wonders if Summer wasn't also trans… but it really isn’t my place to speak on that. (Also, that being said… Summer, if you’re still out there somewhere and reading this, I hope you’re doing well) Anyway, people were super upset because Summer deceived them. I, despite early accusations of being a woman, claimed I was a guy because I was masc-presenting and not even sure if I was trans or not at this point. I also RPed frequently as a tgtf (transgender transformation) that would get bimbofied. And playing a girl just… made sense. In retrospect, it felt more authentic to who I actually would realize I am way more than the masc person I believed I was “supposed” to be. But all I knew for sure that I didn’t want to face the same criticism Summer did, even if our situations were super different. Flash-forward a few years, a couple hiatuses, and a whole lot of soul-searching later, I’m now very comfortable with my identity. I know who I am. I know I was always her, even when I was making awful jokes like this. I’ve always been KIki; it’s just in the last few years that I’ve truly let her emerge from her cocoon. And I can’t wait to keep growing and becoming the best bimbo barbie I can be!

xoxo,

Kiki 💖🏳️‍⚧️

[sundrop-writes]

Sundrop's DC Titans Masterlist

Stop? (Baby, Don't Stop) - Sub!Gar Logan x Dom!Fem!Reader. Friends with Benefits. Smut/PWP. Gar is stressed out about everyone else's problems, so you get him to de-stress the only way you know how (by riding his dick). (1,800 words.)

Shared Trauma - Sub!Gar Logan x Dom!Fem!Reader. Friends to Lovers. Smut and Angst. Gar is upset after having to kill someone for the first time, and you help distract him from the pain. (3,600 words.)

Miss Nectarine - Donna Troy x Fem!Reader. Friends to Lovers. Smut. Stress has been eating at Donna since the old Titans came back 'home'. She finds the perfect way to relieve that stress when she accidentally walks in on you in a certain compromised situation. (2,600 words.)

The Girl Next Door - Hank Hall x Fem!Reader x Dawn Granger. Neighbours to Lovers. Smut. When you move in across the hall from Dawn and Hank, they immediately become protective of you. When you ask them for advice to help out in your sex life - things spin out of control in the best possible way. (5,600 words.)

Better Than Sleeping - Jason Todd x Fem!Reader. Friends with Benefits. Smut. Jason comes to bother you one night when you're tired from training. It quickly turns into a battle of wills between the two of you. Eventually, much to your annoyance - he wins. (5,300 words.)

Dreaming Of You (Mini Series - Complete) - Gar Logan x Fem!Mute!Powered!Reader. Best Friends to Lovers. Smut and (Slight) Angst. Having a direct window into someone’s mind is not as fun as everyone thinks it might be. You see and hear things that you might not want to. Or things you want to see very, very badly. But in your case, the problem was a delicate mixture of both. (31,300 words.) | Part One | Part Two | Series Masterlist |

Not A Good Time - Gar Logan x GN!Reader. Established Relationship. Smut. Seeing Gar fighting while on a mission makes you hot and bothered, and you can't wait to get him home. (2,000 words.)

Missing You - Gar Logan x Fem!Reader x Jason Todd. Accidental Voyeurism. Smut. Gar calls Jason when he's feeling lonely, and accidentally catches you and his best friend in a very compromising situation. But he can't bring himself to hang up the call. (2,800 words.)

Emergency Contact - Jason Todd x GN!Reader. Enemies/FWB to Lovers. Angst. Hurt and Comfort. (Slight Smut.) After Jason is kidnapped by Deathstroke, you help each other heal, even if he tries pushing you away at first. (10,400 words.)

Tongue Twister - Gar Logan x GN!Reader. Friends to FWB. Smut/PWP. In which you literally try to suck Gar's soul out through his dick. (And you might actually succeed.) (2,000 words.)

When Doves Cry - Jason Todd x Gar Logan. Friends to Lovers/Lovers Reunited. Emotional Angst and Smut. After helping the Titans foil Crane's plan, Jason tries to leave forever. Gar has other plans. (11,100 words.)

Precious Time Alone - Gar Logan x Fem!Reader. Established Relationship. Smut/PWP. When the Titans split up, you and Gar get your first true moments alone in weeks. You take advantage of it, even if it ends in a bit of a strange disaster. Aka - neither of you knew that Gar had the ability to knot, and you find out when you have sex for the first time. (11,800 words.) 

One Moment Per Episode With Dick Grayson - Series Masterlist

Season One - Episode One | Episode Two |

Your First Kiss With - Gar Logan | Dick Grayson | Jason Todd |

What would a first date with Gar Logan be like? (Headcanons)

How would Jason react to you accidentally sending him a nude?

Note: The rest of these link off to AO3, but I am hoping to have them edited and posted on Tumblr sometime soon.

Pretty Venom - Conner Luthor x Fem!Reader. Friends to Strangers to Lovers. Smut. When Mother Mayhem's magic messes with Conner's head, you find yourself confused, but intrigued - and then turned on. Conner takes advantage of that. (11,800 words.)

Glitter & Crimson - Gar Logan x Fem!Reader. Friends to ‘Lovers’. Smut. Conner is your ‘boyfriend’ - maybe. Either way, the two of you aren’t having sex, and you’re pent up. So when Gar offers you a golden opportunity to blow off steam, you don’t even consider how much it might be breaking his heart. (6,700 words.) (Prequel to the fic linked above.) 

Free Use Day - Poly!OG!Titans x Fem!Reader. Established Poly (Sexual) Relationship. Smut/PWP. You are a sex toy for the original Titans, and you love it. (14,300 words.) 

No Place Like Home - Gar Logan x Fem!Powered!Reader x Jason Todd. Friends to Lovers. Angst and Smut with a Happy Ending. Jason leaves the Titans broken and battered, and gets set on a dangerous path, and it’s up to you and Gar to bring him home. (90,300 words.) (Series - Complete.) 

Steamy - Jason Todd x Fem!Reader. Rivals to Friends with Benefits. Smut/PWP. You and Jason compete in everything - including the difficult task of sharing a bathroom. Until one day, competing in petty things becomes a battle for dominance in other areas. (5,200 words.) 

Now You See Me - Gar Logan x Masc!Powered!Reader. Strangers to Lovers. Smut. As soon as you meet Gar, you’re smitten with him. You’re used to people looking right through you - literally. But for once, Gar is someone who truly sees you for who you are, and he likes you. Every part of you. (6,900 words.) 

The Sweater Song - Gar Logan x Fem!Reader. Friends to Lovers. Emotional Angst and Smut (with a Happy Ending). Songfic. Gar decides to leave Caulder House, and it breaks your heart. But you give him a token of your affection so that he won’t forget you, and eventually he does return home to you. (7,200 words.) 

Snow In Florida - Donna Troy x Fem!Powered!Reader. Childhood Friends to Lovers. Emotional Angst (Sexuality Crisis) and Smut (with a Happy Ending). You and Donna have been friends for as long as you can remember - but as you’re both maturing, your friendship shifts in a dangerous way. A birthday party, a nagging crush, a kiss - all of it leads you both down a beautiful and bitter path to your one true love. (30,300 words.) (Mini Series - Complete.) 

Don’t Say It - Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader. Friends to Lovers. Smut and Emotional Angst. After Jason is kidnapped by Deathstroke, the Titans don’t have any sympathy for him. When they pile onto the weight he’s already carrying, he can’t take it anymore - and you task yourself with picking up the pieces before it’s too late. (11,300 words.) 

Yokai - Gar Logan x Masc!Japanese!Reader. Strangers to Lovers. Smut/PWP. Gar visits your family’s Japanese restaurant often - it makes him feel normal, talking with someone who doesn’t secretly wear a cape. Plus he loves the food, and… he thinks you’re super cute. (6,400 words.)

[shakespearean-dream]

took me long enough

honorable mentions to @vasyandii for general inspiration, @/x_.0rion._x on tiktok for the hate speech on the tie idea and @average-hyperfixator for helping me with AM’s eyes 😭 go look and follow all of them they are all very talented and cool 🙏

WOW my eyes hurt after looking at this for roughly four hours... and 36 minutes 🤦‍♂️ it’s pretty easy to tell if you look at my art for long enough that i very much lean towards desaturated colors, but i wanted to be a little experimental for AM and go neon— but girl. after i applied the effects to him that SERIOUSLY brightened him up and i had to back down and make the bg a darker pink😭 my eyeballs are already not on my side i do not intend to strain them any further💀

here’s the unedited but rendered version as a treat lol. u can for sure see what i mean here 😭

when i was trying to figure out what to do with AM i realized i haven’t put very much thought into my hc’s for him— which ykw that’s okay because there’s never a better time than rn. i imagine AM as more of a really envious toxic guy who claims to hate their ex (humanity in this case) but does literally everything he can to imitate them, mostly thanks to the radio drama cause damn did you hear how jealous he was there???? ridiculous 😭

so with that in mind i tried to give him a bit of the vibe of a kid just now realizing they can actually express themselves through their appearance—hair, makeup etc— but is still kinda being held back by their environment, or in this case his coding. eventually he’ll get it figured out and be able to consistently look human (even as glitchy and game looking as he is now, it takes a lot of energy to stay like that for extended periods of time) but for now he’s stuck as a rock or computer monitor most of the time. and it drives him SO nuts.

i’m not quite sure where to go with my thoughts from there, so if you wanna comment or throw an ask in my ask box we can talk about AM and his silliness 😭 i truly think he’s one of the most interesting characters in media just because of how powerful yet emotionally blinded he is. tbh, i live to create and be emotional and just be human so in AM’s situation i’d go a little crazy too. not kill everyone except for 5 people and torture them for 109 years crazy, but crazy for sure💀💀 i’d like to hear your guys’s thoughts about it :]

ok it’s late i’m gonna go conk out 😭 one more quick reminder to check out my commission page if you have not, there has still not been an update on yolanda 😔

gn!!!!

[theitgirlnetwork]

Better

Ch. 13: I've Got It

Note:....Been a while. I know boooo, it was very shitty of me, and I'll spare you the sob story but I'm back. Thank you all for the continued support, I am extremely grateful to everyone who gave and continues to give this story a chance. I am ready to get back to work. This chapter is a long one as the beginning of my apology. As always, feel free to reach out to me with any questions or just to chat, but all in all, it feels good to be back. Happy Valentines Day, babies <3

Warning: Toxic Family Dynamics, anxiety, angst and strong language.

“Now we wait.” 

Lip rolls his eyes as he sits on the bed in his and Charlotte’s room at Kev and V’s house, crossing his arms. “This is fucking stupid.”

V’s sharp elbow goes into his side as Kev shushes him, facing the opposite direction. 

The three of them are sitting and waiting outside of the bathroom door, straightening as Carol emerges from the room, blue and white stick in her hands and Charlotte in tow. “Auntie Carol, I told you I’m not pregnant-” 

“Hush, little girl, stop whining.”

“But Mama,” V tries, rubbing her head tiredly. “She just had her period.”

“You shut up, Veronica, you were supposed to be watching her, not letting her shack up while you did, lord knows everything but take care of your cousin. Now I’m gonna hear shit from her father and his wife the whole time they’re here.” The older woman huffs, squinting at the test, snapping her fingers and pointing to the bed, gesturing for Charlotte to sit. “The least we can do is make sure she’s not pregnant when they get here.”

Lip rests his hand on Charlotte’s thigh as he tries to hide his annoyance with the whole situation. The call with Charlotte’s dad had been disastrous, as he suspected it would be. The older man had cursed him to high heaven before demanding Charlotte be on the next flight home. When Lip heard that he’d panicked, snatching the phone back from his wife and hanging up. All they’d received since then was an eerie message that they were on their way. Because he’s him and he has literally no control over his own brain, he had no choice but to question why she hadn’t told her parents about them, about him. It seemed like her dad hadn’t even expected to hear from a boyfriend let alone a husband. They’d at least been together long enough that her parents should know he exists.

In fact that’s all he can think about, aside from the fact that he may have lost his job. And how the two may be related. 

“Fuck!” Lip growls as he punches the wall in the hallway. He’s unconcerned with what Fiona will say about it. He’ll just blame it on Frank. 

Charlotte’s head pops out of the bathroom with a freshly bathed Liam on her hip, both looking as innocently confused as ever. Liam claps his hand, squealing, mumbling out an excited ‘fuck!’ as he meets his brother’s eyes. “No, Liam, that's a bad word. Phillip didn’t mean to say that. He meant to say darn, right Phillip?”

The blond is in too foul a mood to concede for cuteness sake and instead squeezes the boy’s cheek and gives his wife an appreciative pat on the ass before scooting past. “Nah, I meant fuck.” 

Charlotte pouts as she bounces the child on her hip a little before taking him to sit with one his other siblings as she goes to figure out what’s wrong with her spouse. She’s noticed that Phillip has been on edge since her parents’ message, but she was beginning to think that wasn’t all that was bothering him. 

She finds him spread out on the couch, staring up at the ceiling with a scowl on his face. Her pout deepens as she climbs over the side of the couch, laying her body over his, pressing her chest to his and offering him a bright smile. “Talk to me, bubba.” 

“I’ve just got shit to figure out I guess, I gotta handle it or we’re fucked.” he huffs, rolling his big blue eyes, as she smooths the lines between his brows with her soft fingers. 

“Shit like what?” Charlotte asks, tilting her head lightly. 

“Watch your mouth.” He murmurs, softly, dragging his thumb over her bottom lip before pushing it into her mouth, humming with quiet satisfaction as she simply closes her mouth around it, brown eyes staring up at him intently. “That shit at the party, lost my cool, cause that fucker is trying to fuck you-” 

“Don’t want him.” she says around his finger.

“I lost my cool and sorta might’ve cost us a good thing.” Lip sighs, smoothing his other hand over her hair. “Daddy wants to talk to me in his office later this week. Fucked it up, sorry baby.” 

It almost feels worse. How quickly she shrugs off his failures. She doesn’t tell him he fucking sucks, or that he ruins everything. She doesn’t huff and push off of him. She offers him a soft smile, kisses him deeply, and tells him ‘they’ll figure it out’. They’ll do it. Another thing he just can’t do for her. He feels helpless. He loves her, and this job was the biggest step he’s made in showing her that. He might beg. He might literally have to set his pride aside and beg. 

That was part one in the hardest lesson life has taught him. Phillip Gallagher is not good enough for Charlotte Gal…Fisher.

“Yay, Debbie!” Charlotte screams , clapping along as Ian whistles. The family was gathering for Debbie’s first soccer game of the season and it was…not going well. Turns out Debbie’s team sucks and she doesn’t respond very well to the rules and restrictions of soccer. She was currently focusing more on digging her heel of her cleats into the shin of a kid who’d accidentally kicked her hand while the ball rolled past her. 

“Fuckin’ kill ‘em, Debs.” Mickey calls, lighting his cigarette. His brows furrow at the looks the parents around him send him. “I fuckin’ meant, metaphorically.”

“Figuratively.” Lip corrects, smacking away the middle finger that gets waived in his face. He sighs as Charlotte knocks his own cigarette out of his hand before he can light it, slapping her thigh, pulling her leg over his as she giggles in his ear. Lip relishes in the closeness and warmth he gets from this moment. His wife leaning into him, absently toying with his fingers as she cheers for his little sister. 

It makes him think. He thinks about the future. Doing this with his kids. Their kids. Kids he didn’t even think he wanted. Not until her. Just the idea of her opens a world of possibilities he hadn’t even factored in. It feels good. It would feel great, if some fucking idiot wasn’t staring at her like a piece of fuckin’ meat-

“Can I fucking help you, fuck face, or do you wanna keep starin’ at my wife?” He demands, standing immediately. Ian and Mickey are following suit soon enough, the latter, lifting Charlotte and placing her on the opposite side of all of them. 

“Woah,” the guy lifts his hands in surrender, eyes darting between the men nervously. “I just was trying to figure out where I know her from, I don’t want any issues.”

“Let’s just say you don’t know her from anywhere and you get to keep your teeth, alright?” Mickey growls. 

The three men settle back into their seats and return to the game. Charlotte waves off Debbie’s confused look that she sends to the stands. She whispers into Lip’s ear that everything is fine. That the guy probably frequents the bar she works at. But from the way she shifts uncomfortably in her seat, zipping her jacket up to her neck and crossing her arms over her chest, hoping he wouldn’t notice…Lip fucking hates himself. He really does. He hates the guys at the club that pay to see the love of his life essentially naked. He hates that they go around thinking about her after they leave the fuckin’ seedy ass building. He hates that she works there, because despite the fact that her body is beautiful and he’s glad she’s comfortable in it, his insecurity is making her insecure and now they can’t be at his sister’s soccer game, or the grocery store, or the park or the club without someone fucking eye-fucking his wife, pissing him off and making her uncomfortable in her own damn clothes. 

But mostly, mostly he hates himself for not being able to make her like the women sitting on the opposite side for the other team. The soccer moms who have husbands that take care of fuckin’ everything they need and have shit to spare to give them what they want. He hates that she’s not sitting here with one of those fancy, stupid ass purses that they all seem to fuckin’ have. He hates that while they got to drop their kids off at a nice ass school after they kissed their husbands goodbye and then went shopping or drinking or whatever upper middle housewives do with their days Charlotte was helping clean his shithole house. He hates that after the game he’s gonna drop her off to the club where she’ll meet more creeps who get off thinking about her and eye-fuck her in his face. He hates that he’s too pussy to go into the club because then he’s worried he’ll steal one of Mickey’s guns and air the bitch out and Charlotte’ll be forced to visit him in jail for the rest of her life. 

So Lip grinds his teeth and finishes watching the game. Leg jumping as he tries to soothe his temper. That’s part two.

Charlotte’s parents arriving is the nail in the marital coffin for Lip. They go pick them up from the airport in the attempt to make a good impression. The couple borrows Kev’s car and the whole ride their Charlotte tries to keep him in a good mood. He knew he must be walking into the lion’s den from how she’d been acting. They’d had sex twice that morning, and before he could start to offer to make her breakfast for her…efforts, she was pulling out the ingredients to make him pancakes. In the car, she didn’t whine about his music, just humming softly as it played, rubbing his arm as his hand rested on her thigh. He wants to be able to leave it at this. He doesn’t want to interrupt the great morning by asking the dreaded question, but he’s him and he can’t let it go.

“So, we haven’t really gotten to talk about it, but I need to ask…why didn’t you tell your parents about me?”

Charlotte takes a deep breath, staring straight out the window as they pull into a pickup spot. “They’re parents…you know, they didn’t exactly send me here to get married in three months.”

“They won’t approve. Fuck.” he nods.

“Bubba, it doesn’t matter.” Charlotte turns to face Lip, pulling her knee into the seat beneath her. “It doesn’t matter, I approve. I’m more worried about what you’ll think of me. My parents aren’t the nicest people, and…I’m not good with navigating them.”

“Charlotte, there’s literally nothing short of murder you could do that would make me change my mind, you’re not the one we need to worry about.” Lip pushes his tongue into his cheek absently, nervously drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, the reflection of the simple ring shining on his hand. 

“This is temporary, right?” Charlotte murmurs, leaning over the console and placing her hands over Lip’s. “They’ll come, and see how good you take care of me and they’ll go home. ‘Kay?”

The blond man just nods quietly, pulling her hand to his lips and kissing it, savoring their bubble one last time before they get out of the car.

“I hate the airport, it's dirty and busy all of the time.” 

Lip rolls his lips together as he drags his in-laws bags over to the car, listening quietly with Charlotte as her mother and father talk about how miserable their flight has been. Her dad, Victor, had given him a curt nod in introduction and held his arm out for Charlotte to obediently place herself into a hug that Lip could tell she didn’t want. Her mother Cynthia had kissed her cheeks in a European way to where they never actually touch. Both people looked polished, and barely tried to hide their wince when Charlotte said, “This is my husband, Phillip.”

Lip’s wife’s pretty brown eyes haven’t lifted from ground level since they met her parents at the terminal, an absent look on her face as her parents drone on and on with pleasantries.

“...and, honey, don’t you think it’s a little too cold for that outfit?” her mom finishes, as the three of them stand back and watch Lip load the car.

“‘M warm.”

“I am warm.” Her mother corrects.

“I am warm.”

“I don’t know how you could be, with this frigid Chicago air. Hopefully you’re not getting sick. Phillip, you always have to watch her, she never wants to wear a coat, always trying to walk around half naked and expect not to get sick-”

“We’d better hope she’s not having hot flashes.” 

“Victor!”

And that too. The snide remarks. Glances down at Charlotte’s stomach, and positioning himself between her and Lip as they walk back to the car. The muscle in Lip’s jaw jumps in irritation as her father continues to insinuate that the only reason he’s here is because he’s some white trash deadbeat that knocked his daughter up. 

“I’m not pregnant, Daddy.”

“As you’ve told me.” The older man grunts, sliding between his daughter and the car, climbing into the front passenger seat the second the lock clicks open, not even sparing her a glance. 

“Are you guys, uh, hungry? We could stop and get something to eat.” Lip sniffs, glancing up into the rearview mirror to get a look at Charlotte. She’s in the back, toying with her fingers as she stares out of the window. That is until her mom swats at her hand to get her to stop, and she takes to biting her lip instead.

“No thank you, young man, the hotel should be fine.” Victor huffs again, for the fiftieth fucking time since he’s been in the car. “Charlotte, I made you a doctor’s appointment for tomorrow, since you never took the time to find a physician yourself. Your mother will take you after we have breakfast. I assume you’ll be joining us, Phillip.”

Charlotte manages to look up at that, her voice resigned as she addresses her father. “Of course he will, Daddy, we’ll be with you bright early.”

The car goes silent for a moment before Victor mumbles under his breath, ‘you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.’

“Daddy?”

“I’m sorry, are we supposed to pretend that this is okay? Cynthia, I tried, but this is fucking ridiculous!”

“Victor! Please.”

“Okay.” Lip grunts, pulling the car into one of the hotel parking spots in the far corner of the lot. 

“No, Charlotte Andrea Fisher, you are 19 years old. You are away from home for the first time, against my better judgment. You have been away for only 3 months. You are naive, and impulsive, and for some reason want to be like your cousin Veronica so damn bad. You are going to take your ass upstairs to the hotel room your mother and I got you and you are not shacking up with this boy-”

“He’s not a boy, he’s my husband, Dad.” Charlotte whimpers from the backseat. Lip grinds his teeth and unbuckles his seatbelt, catching her mother roll her eyes and rub her forehead as he climbs out of the car.

“Oh, god, the waterworks-”

“You are a little girl, and that is a boy. You’re talking about marriage, that sham is getting annulled, if it was even legal-” Victor follows suit, climbing out of the car and slamming the door, opening his wife’s before walking, meeting Lip at Charlotte’s door. The older man goes to tug it open, only to be stopped by Lip’s hand. “Move.”

“No. My wife is coming home with me.” he says calmly.

“Your wife? Your wife, she’s my daughter, and she’s coming with me and her mother-”

“Her mother and I.” Lip says smugly.

“Oh.” Victor cocks his head, taking a step closer to an unflinching Lip. “You think you're tough, boy?”

“You tell me, we’re from the same place.”

The older man glares past him to the car window again. Shifting his attention to Charlotte. “Charlotte Andrea Fisher-”

“Gallagher.” Her muffled voice calls from behind the cheap glass. “My last name is Gallagher now, Dad.”

It’s quiet. Soft. Her voice waivers. But still. She said it. And still, it fills Lip up with pride as he leans against the car door, using its keys to click it closed as he watches her mother drag her husband away. Forcing him to the hotel.

After he watches the fancy, sliding double doors close behind them and the yelling becomes a little more faint, Lip unlocks the car. The way she falls into his arms crushes him. The tears, the shaking, the sobs of ‘I thought they’d give us a chance’ that part hurt. 

Lip Gallagher has watched his parents abandon his siblings. Hit them. Steal from them. Lie. Everything in the book of bad parents. He’s been watching it his whole life. He’s numb to it. It’s life, he tells them. Doesn’t matter, they don’t matter. Frank and Monica. They’ve never been anything to them, and never would be.

But watching this. Watching Charlotte lose her parents in front of him, because of him, he’s never seen anything like it. He’s sad for her. He watched them rip her to shreds with words and disapproving looks. They came here and broke the love of his life within an hour and a half.

This wasn’t the final straw.

No, because Lip’s girl is sweet. This is something he’s always known, and in anyone else he’d call it a flaw. She’s like Debbie, but less vengeful. She forgives. Gives second…third…fourth chances. Hell, its the only fuckin’ way he’s been able to keep her, and normally, he’d thank whatever shitty higher power that’s up there that dropped this woman in his lap for him to hoard to himself but not today.

“She says she wants to say sorry for him. I’m not gonna talk to him, just her. She promised.”

“Bunny, I’m not gonna tell you don’t see your mom-”

“Good!” Charlotte chirps as Lip watches her tug on some notably baggy jeans over her shapely legs, and pull an oversized sweater over her head.

“‘M gonna tell you it’d be pretty fuckin’ stupid though.” he finishes, grabbing the edge of her sweater and pulling her into his lap as he sits on the bed. 

Charlotte smoothes her fingers over his cheek before leaning her forehead against his. “Hm, like threatening your boss's son?”

“Fuckin’ defendin’ your honor.” he grunts, tilting her toward him and patting her ass.

“My hero.”

“Exactly, and now I’m the fuckin’ dragon, lockin’ you up in the tower so the evil people who made the princess cry yesterday don’t get to do it again.”

“That’s really not how fairytales work. And dragons can’t lock doors.”

“Fuckin’ smartass.” Lip breathes, connecting his lips to hers, kissing her deeply. He squeezes her tightly, trying to wring every negative thought out of her head. “They hurt you.” he whispers against her lips.

“They’re my parents. They think they’re doing what’s best for me. They’re not. But that’s what they think.” she whispers back, pressing one more kiss to his lips before pulling away. “So, I’m gonna go to this doctor’s appointment. Do another pregnancy test. Show them we’re married because you loveee me. And then, I’m gonna tell my mom our love story, leaving out some key details. And I’m gonna make her love you like I do, Bubba.”

Lip sits back and takes in her words. Because maybe that is what she’ll do. Maybe Cynthia will reconsider and maybe that will make things better. Maybe they’ll understand their situation and that they love each other and he’s pretty sure they won’t fuckin’ love him but maybe they’ll understand that he fuckin’ loves her. “Hopefully not like you love me. You’d have some competition.” she gasps at that, smacking his arm. “What? You look alike!”

The plan was clear. Charlotte was supposed to go and charm the pants off her mom on Lip’s behalf, he was supposed to be at home, hold down the fort, and figure out what the hell he was going to say to his boss, to get his job back. 

Lip had set up shop. He’d plopped back on the run down couch in his house, and pulled one of his little siblings toys from underneath his ass and started rolling a joint on the table. It was time for him to play his part. Think. For him, and for his family. 

But then there was the knock. And then it turned into knocking. It was incessant.

“Fuck! Hold on. ‘M fuckin’ coming!” He calls, tripping over the plastic bat on the floor when he makes his way over to the door. “What-”

“Phillip.”

“I…what the fuck are you doin’ here? Come to yell at me s’more?” 

Victor Fisher stands with his arms crossed. Polished with a neat sweater and ironed pants, looking wildly uncomfortable and out of place in his own old neighborhood. “No, I…think I did enough of that yesterday. At least that’s what Cynthia tells me.”

“Okay,” Lip shrugs, leaning in the frame and catching Victor’s glance at the chipped paint. “Well, she tell you that she and Charlotte are going to the doctor?”

“Yes. It was my own idea to come down here and ask you to come get something to eat with me while we wait.”

The blond’s eyes narrow as he laughs incredulously. “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.” 

“Not at all.” Victor sighs, crossing his arms. “I am extending an olive branch. For Charlotte’s sake. Grab the other end.”

For Charlotte’s sake.

“So tech. Good business.” 

“Technology and science are languages that I’ve always been able to speak. It pays too.” Lip shrugs, pushing a forkful of eggs into his mouth. 

“Well?” Victor asks without looking up. This has been their breakfast so far. Short, stilted conversation. Lip answering the questions Victor fires at him. Trying to gauge his reactions to everything he says. Pretending he wasn’t starting to hate this man.

“Gettin’ there.” 

“How many siblings do you have, Phillip?”

“Uh, five.” 

“Smart like you?” he asks, pushing his glasses up his nose.

“They’re smart.”

“But not like you.”

“Uh, no. Not like me.” Lip shifts in his seat, suddenly unable to follow the conversation.

“Hm.” Victor reaches to the side of the table, pouring more coffee into his cup and then into Lip’s. “Charlotte is an only child, you know that?”

“I know everything about Charlotte.”

“So, you know why we want her to go to the doctor so badly?” 

“Fuckin’- yes!” 

“You know she’s got chronic pain? That she suffers from sickle cell? She told you that?”

What?

Lip tries to keep a poker face as all of the wind is knocked out of his body. A thousand questions are swirling around in his head. His chest hurts. He didn’t know, why didn’t he know? He should have known-

“Do you know what happens when people who suffer from sickle cell go into crisis? What a flare up of chronic pain looks like for her?” Victor sighs, fully removing his glasses this time. “Probably not, you’ve known her for three months. But it happens, and it's bad. She…she can’t move. Barely eats, loses weight rapidly. The pains. The shakes. The crying. Are you prepared for that?”

“Yea-yes-”

“I’m sure you could. You’re a man. I understand that. You grew up here. You’ve had to be a man long before you were supposed to and that is unfair and I’m sorry that happened to you but the reality is, Charlotte is a girl. You two are a year apart, but you’re a man and she’s a girl. She grew up in a nice house, with me and her mother. She went to nice schools. We knew she was pretty, too pretty for her own good, so we protected her from the boys not worth keeping around-”

“Fuck you.” Lip scoffs.

“No, I’m not implying you’re not worth anything, Phillip. Boys like you from this area are diamonds in the rough. Just like me. I was just like you. And I got the girl. You have Charlotte, I had Cynthia. I know how it feels to hit the lottery.” Victor pauses to take a drink of his coffee, gesturing to the waitress for the check. “But Phillip, I don’t speak to my siblings. My parents. They were deadbeats. My siblings stayed here. I left them behind. They hate me. All of them. And over time, I’ve learned that I don’t care. I chose Cynthia. I chose me. They were holding me back. I let them go. Because you’ll learn, Phillip, that getting there only gets there, when you can focus. You can’t keep two families afloat.” 

Lip works his jaw irritably, feeling his skin heat with irritation as he weighs what his father and law says. “What are you trying to say? I should abandon my family?” 

“No. I’m saying it's not too late to choose them and annul your marriage. We both know you can’t take care of Charlotte. Not the way she should be. Not for a long, long time. So give her back to people who can. People who can make it worth you and your family’s while.”

“I…” Lip grits his teeth at the sound of his voice cracking. “I love her. I take care of her.” “She’s been living here, working as a stripper under your care. Want better for her, Phillip.” Victor says, snapping his checkbook closed as he slides the piece of paper across the table. The waitress comes over with the bill, dropping it between the two men and Lip absentmindedly reaches into his pocket to find some money, pausing when the older man holds his hand up to halt him. “Don’t worry, son. I’ve got it.”

Sending the message was hard, but it was the only way Lip knew how. 

He knew he couldn’t look Charlotte in the face yet. No. He needed more time. Time to think. Time to decide he was doing the right thing. Time to finish talking himself into this. 

Victor told him what he needed to do. Bend her heart, not break it. Neither of them wanted to see her broken. Just hurt her enough that she’s prepared to go home. Charlotte’s stubborn, so she won’t just give up. She won’t run to her parents so easily. So Lip would need to be able to hold out long enough that she would give up. Get tired. Realize it was over and go home. 

And Lip would be able to pay the bills in the house, for the next three months. One month for each one he and Charlotte had together. He would be able to get his family a car. He would have something to drive back and forth to work in. A real car. Not a run down busted up car barely off the junk lot. A real car. One that he could keep for years.

So, he came home. Her mom kept her out a long enough time, clearly in on this plan to write him out of Charlotte’s fuckin’ life. He went to his house. He looked his siblings in the face and told them that he was ending things with Charlotte. And they were fuckin’ pissed. The kids weren’t talking to him. Debbie said she hated him. But she’d get over it. That’s what Victor had said when he’d told him how they loved Charlotte. 

Carl mumbled something about a ‘waste’ and shoved past him. Liam doesn’t understand. And Lip knows that he’ll feel horrible when his baby brother wakes up tomorrow asking for her.

Ian and Fiona were the worst. Ian started rattling insults immediately. Telling him what a piece of shit he was. He knows. Telling him this is the only chance at something good, at love he’ll actually get. He fuckin’ knows.

Fiona just asked so many questions. Why? What happened? Are you sure? 

That all stopped when Lip shrugged, schooling an emotionless expression onto his face, dropping the check onto the kitchen table and snapping his phone closed as he finished his message. “It’s done.” 

All of that hurt. It fucking sucked and he felt like blowing his brains out when the flood of text messages started rolling in. But nothing could beat the crying. The begging. 

“Bubba, please.” Her voice is small on the opposite side of the door, the whining lilt to it has his entire body tense as he leans against the wood, staring at the wall over Ian’s shoulder, refusing to make eye contact with any of his siblings. “I love you. Why are you doing this?”

“Lip-” Fiona starts, cutting herself off when her little brother looks up at her, wide blue eyes watery with tears, an exhausted look on his face, jaw clenched so hard she worried his teeth would crack. She thinks this is a mistake. She loves Charlotte, and even more, Lip loves Charlotte more than anything, but this was his decision, and he was her brother. 

“I love you, what did I do? M’sorry.” she whimpers, soft thump letting the three siblings know she’d slid down the door. “Please, I love you. Please…st-stop.” 

The three eldest Gallaghers stand there in a stalemate. Ian shifts on his feet, quietly shaking his head as he looks away. Fiona watches her brother struggle somberly, wondering if she could have done anything that would have avoided this. 

And Lip, silent, straight faced, completely devoid of emotion as he rests his head against the door, staring forward. The only indication that he feels anything at all is the few tears that managed to escape down his face. 

It goes on like this for an hour and a half. At 40 minutes, Ian scoffs, mumbling under his breath as he storms his way up the stairs, slamming his room door closed, causing his sister to flinch. Once the standoff reaches 1 hour and 15 minutes, Fiona sighs, scrubbing a tired hand down her face before patting an unmoving Lip’s shoulder, retiring to bed herself.

The sobbing and constant knocking at the door had slowed to quiet pleas, still making Lip’s chest hurt just as bad. He’s doing what’s best for her. He knows that. It hurts now, but she’ll recover from this. She’ll be better, she’ll have a chance to do better than him. 

Lip will never recover. He knows that too. He knows that this is his better. His best. Being with Charlotte is everything. That’s why he doesn’t deserve it. He should’ve never tried to drag her down with him. He can’t give her the life she deserves, or the things she should have access to. He could only offer her hard work, and being bound to mental illness and alcoholism. Trapping her with a baby, forcing her to live in the fucking slums and dance for a couple of bucks from creepy frat boy fucks and drunk limp dick losers like his father. 

Soon he can hear footsteps approaching the doorway, Charlotte is immediately riled up by the presence of whoever it is. “No, no, no, he needs to talk to me. Something is wrong, I don’t know what I did- Phillip, please.” 

“C’mon Lottie, let’s go home.” Lip recognizes Kev’s muffled voice from the opposite side of the door. After some quiet arguing, he finally releases a breath when he hears the wood creak under the weight of them walking away. 

The man ignores the crushing feeling in his chest, the gut wrenching pain that comes with the realization of what he’d just done. A numbness spreads over his limbs as he hazily makes his way over to and up the stairs, breathing shakily. He reaches the doorway of his dark room and stops there. He wants his bed. He wants to climb under the covers and pretend he didn’t just blow up his fuckin’ life. But he can’t make it over the threshold. 

This is her room too. He didn’t think this through. She’s touched everything. How was he supposed to lay in the bed that they laid in together? Her clothes are still in the drawers. Pictures still taped to the mirror and walls. Fuck. 

It’s humiliating, the way he breaks down. Strong shoulders shaking with stronger sobs. Body curling over until his knees simply give out, he sits on the floor next to the crack in the wall where Carl had drilled a hole to hide drugs for Frank. The sound of miscellaneous toys left out squeaking under him. Lip pulls his legs to his chest and cries, because it’s all he can do. Despite every ounce of his being telling him, ‘stop being a bitch,’ ‘the fuck are you cryin’ about, pussy?’ he can’t help it. And he doesn’t stop. Not when his throat started getting sore, or his back started to hurt. Not when the sun starts to peak in through the half broken window in the hallway. Not when he feels his little sister lay a blanket over him before sitting beside him, quietly resting her head on his shoulder.

Charlotte doesn’t fare much better. She finally fell asleep with V rubbing her back, sleeping in her cousin’s bed while Kev slept downstairs. When she wakes she has a pounding headache, her eyes are puffy and burn. She wraps one of the blankets around herself before dragging to the bathroom, brushing her teeth and splashing water on her face. 

She’s hurt. Heartbroken and confused. She knows why he’s doing this. Her parents said something. Did something. Something that made him decide she isn’t worth the trouble. 

But she wasn’t going to give up without a fight. She loves Phillip. She loves her husband, and she didn’t take their time together lightly. She pulls on one of Phillip’s sweatshirts and jumps her way into a pair of jeans before looking at herself in the mirror. 

“Hey, honey,” V’s soft voice comes from behind her, Charlotte’s cousin appears over her shoulder, wrapping her arms around the younger woman. “I didn’t think you’d be up.”

“I’ve gotta,” she sniffs, combing her fingers through her hair. “I’ve gotta take Liam to daycare. And um, make sure Carl remembers his science project. See if Phillip wants me to have lunch with him at work today, I could…I could make him something-”

“Lottie.” V interrupts, “Didn’t Lip-”

“He’s confused.” Charlotte says sharply, swinging her purse over her shoulder, holding her hand out to her cousin expectantly. “My key to their house is in our room. I…don’t normally need it.” 

“Charlotte, listen. I’m not saying this to hurt you, but that boy left you crying on the porch in the cold, that sends a message. Don’t you think you two need space?”

The younger woman shakes her head stubbornly, looking forward to the door, refusing to look at V. “No. Space will let him spiral. My parents made him doubt me, I’m gonna show him that they don’t know what they’re talking about, that I’m what he wants and needs, no matter what they say.”

Determined, Charlotte makes her way next door, unlocking the door with V’s keys and gets to work immediately. Frank is passed out on the couch, so she nudges him awake with a beer at the ready, guiding the drunken man out of the door so he won’t be there when everyone wakes up. Next she starts on the bacon and eggs, brewing a cup of coffee before climbing the stairs to grab Liam, changing and dressing him. “G’morning Liam, did you sleep well?” she coos, pressing kisses to his cheeks as she makes her way back down the stairs. 

When she gets down there, Fiona is sitting at the table, eyes going wide as she sees her sister-in-law. “Lottie? I…when did-”

“Early this morning. I know yesterday was really weird, and I’m sorry you guys had to see that-”

“Hey,” Fiona smiles, taking Liam from Charlotte’s arms. “There’s no embarrassment with family. Gallaghers know no shame, girl, and you’re one of us.” 

And she means it. Fiona watches as a wave of relief washes over the girl bustling around her kitchen, dumping fresh bacon onto a plate. “Thanks Fi.” Charlotte tucks some hair behind her ear, sliding a bowl of cheerios in front of the toddler. “I’m sorry to even ask you this, but did he talk to you about anything? Like something they said or s-something I did-”

“Mornin.” 

The deep voice makes Charlotte’s heart drop to her stomach. She turns slowly, as if she’s approaching an animal that’s likely to scare. And there he is. Standing there in his pajamas, hair mussed, bags under his eyes. But still handsome as ever to Charlotte. “Phillip.”

The blond pauses for a beat. His blue eyes are cloudy for a moment as he takes in the girl before he slips past her, ignoring her extended hand, offering a mug of coffee, opting to open the fridge and grab the orange juice instead. “Hey, you come here to pick up your stuff?”

“My…my stuff? Phillip-”

“I uh, gotta get to work.” he sniffs, grabbing his bag from it’s place on the kitchen floor, slinging it over his shoulder with his jacket in his hand.

“But-” Charlotte flinches as the door slams shut, shoulders tense as she stares after her husband. Fiona quietly slips behind the girl, resting her hand on her shoulder, apologetic for her brother’s behavior, but unable to do anything about it. “He means it.”

Charlotte had whispered so quietly that her sister-in-law didn’t catch it, leaning in for clarity. “What?” 

“Phillip, he’s leaving me, and he means it.” It was like a rock landed in her stomach, both painful and grounding, Charlotte steels herself. “Fine.” she huffs, grabbing her own bag and storming out of the house, slamming the door shut behind her.

Phillip’s day had been absolute shit so far. He woke up to his boss’s daddy’s assistant calling him in for a meeting. No doubt calling him in to fucking fire him for beating the living shit out of his pussy ass son. Lip doesn’t regret it. Not really. But he regrets losing his fucking job. 

On top of that, he came downstairs to see the one person he couldn’t handle seeing. She looked so damn pretty, mixing up in his kitchen, bein’ with his family and shit. The hopeful look in her eye as she saw him enter the room. He didn’t deserve for her to fuckin’ look at him like that. He wanted to kick his own ass for how broken her pretty little face looked when he dismissed her. He loves her. That’s why he’s doing this. Her eyes were pink and puffy. She’d been crying for him. The fact that he was fighting with himself not to like that…he’s a sick fuck. Like he’s said, he doesn’t deserve her. 

Lip doesn’t even bother asking Kev to use his car to get to work, opting to take a walk to the train station to clear his head. He was in no real rush to be fired. As he blows into his hands to warm them, he lets his mind wander to the last place it needs to, but the only place it seems to want to go. 

“So, what the fuck are they mad at her for? They don’t wanna do the band shit anymore?”

Charlotte giggles, running her fingers through his curls as he lays his head on her lap, scowling at the television. She was educating him on Disney movies; it seemed that in the process of raising his siblings along with his sister, he’d never gotten the chance to experience sitcoms and original movies that were formative for her childhood. He’d said, ‘I’m not watchin’, put your shit on and I’ll take a nap’ but here he was, watching intently with a wonder that made her heart ache. “Guess they don’t have your work ethic, bubba.”

Lip hums contentedly, bringing her free hand to his lips, absently pressing kisses to her palm as he continues watching the movie. “Yeah, I know you liked her little rapping white boyfriend.”

“Um, excuse me? Even though he’s cute-”

“Knew it.”

“And you happen to also be a white, blonde with blue hair, most of my exes haven’t been white, I’ll have you know.”

He tried to swallow down the comment, really. But he fuckin’ couldn’t hold himself back, sue him. “Yeah, how many exes are we talkin’ about?”

He expects for her to get offended, or be evasive. Tell him to fuck off. That’s what any of his sorta exes would’ve done. Hell, that’s what he would’ve done. With anyone but her. He’ll tell her whatever she needs to know. But Charlotte has soft edges. Even when he’s being a dick, she has softness for him he’d never experienced before. 

“Not many, baby, just like, five.” She smiles gently, smoothing her hand over his hair again. “You’re the only one who matters now, Phillip.” she takes a deep breath, leaning down to press her forehead against his, and Lip can’t help but lean up to meet her, eyes trained on her face as hers slip closed. “Love you.” she mumbles.

She’s everything. “I love you, Bunny.”

With that, her brown eyes open, staring down at him with joy, she wrinkles her nose. “Ew, you like me?” she teases, squealing in his ear as he pushes himself up, grabbing her thigh and tugging her down on the couch.

“Fuckin’ brat.” he chuckles breathily against her lips, slapping her thigh lightly as he descends on her, her giggles ringing out into the air.

“Fuck.” the blond huffs out, roughly wiping at a stray tear before storming up to an abandoned car, left on the frozen grass and kicking at one of the doors, denting it slightly. He breathes heavily, shaking his head and turning to go back to his path to the train. Her laughter. That fuckin’ pretty ass laugh that she’s gonna end up giving to someone else makes him feel like he could vomit. He could hear it. In his head. It used to be nice. Now it feels like his heart is being wrenched from his fuckin’ chest. Damnit! 

Lip drops his bag onto the ground, lifting his leg and kicking the car again. And again. And again. Until he stops. Then, he starts punching the windows, his knuckles start getting bloody as the glass shatters and breaks under his efforts. But he keeps going. He just keeps punching, and kicking, and screaming…? When did he start doing that? 

He was so focused on what he was doing that he didn’t even notice someone approaching him.

“Lip…?” A familiar voice calls out. Familiar, but not the one haunting him now. “Well, it’s been a while, I can guess how you’ve been.”

He stops, turning to look at the person intruding on his break down, brows furrowed. The blond reaches in his pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes, raising it to pluck one into his mouth before offering it to them. “The fuck are you doin’ here?”

“Needed a nice bed, and food. Came to check on my mom. Aren’t you gonna ask me how I’ve been doin’?” 

To say Charlotte was pissed off was an understatement. Hot, angry tears stream down her face as she swings open the door to V and Kev’s house, throwing her purse on the floor. She tries to level out her breath as she pushes into the bathroom. Charlotte rests her hands on the sink as she watches herself cry in the mirror. Sobs racking her body she doubles over with the force of her crying. She was glad no one was home to see her like this.

She doesn’t even know what she’s doing when she climbs into the tub, bringing her knees to her chest. She raises her left hand to look at the small ring on her finger. It’s not what she used to picture. When she was younger, she would envision her life. She would dream about what her ring would look like. What her husband would be like. 

It was always a ring like her mother’s, a large house like she grew up in and the some faceless prince who spun her in circles but surprisingly never spoke. 

This life she was building with Phillip was nothing like that. They live in a small house with his siblings, he’d shared a room until he was 18 and got her ring from his drunken father. It was small, and wouldn’t pass as a kids toy where she came from. Phillip was quiet compared to his siblings, but generally loud, crass, and aggressive. With everyone except her at least. He was a prince. He does spin her around, and hug her, and kiss her and look at her like she’s everything. The life he gave her was better than she’d imagined. 

But he’s ready to throw it away. And it hurts. Charlotte is tired of being the one being hurt. 

She sits in silence for a few moments, staring at the tiles on the wall before she can distantly hear her phone chiming in her purse outside the bathroom door. She tries to ignore the clench in her chest, the little glimmer of hope that it’s Phillip, calling to say sorry, that he’d changed his mind and he was coming over so they could make up. Charlotte pushes out of the tub at the third chime, walking on unsteady legs over to the bag, sniffling and tucking hair behind her ear as she squints to read the messages.

It’s her manager from the club, asking if anyone was interested in working the day party for today because the promoter’s entertainment fell through. Normally, she’d turn this down. She knows how Lip feels about her new job, and for her it was only a means to an end. They were discussing alternatives until this shit started. But maybe working a party would be a good way for her to get her mind off of things, and make some extra cash. Especially since it seems she’ll be doing things by herself for now on. 

“So you got married? That wasn’t a joke?”

“Uh, nope, real shit.” Lip takes a final swig of his beer before sailing it into the street, smiling softly at the glass shattering before opening another. 

“Hm, never thought you were the marrying type.” 

“M’not.” 

Karen shrugs, sipping her own beer and looking up at him. “Must’ve been pretty though, to get you down the aisle. Or pregnant. Both?”

“Not pregnant.” He says, opening his phone and showing her a picture of Charlotte. He supposes he’s gonna have to stop having those at the ready, if he’s gonna move on. As if he could. 

“Damn, she’s sexy.” Karen’s eyes widen as she grabs the phone. She remembers the current situation and bites her lip. “Sorry.”

“S’fine. She is. Fuckin’ beautiful.” 

Karen looks out into the road again, hesitating for a moment before nudging Lip’s shoulder. “Want me to take your mind off of it? It’s been a while.” 

Before Lip had even met Charlotte he had told himself he’d never fuck Karen again. She’s better now, sure, but she also almost fucking ruined his life multiple times. Once he had met Charlotte, he hadn’t even thought of it. He really didn’t consider that he’d ever fuck someone else again. A realization that surprised himself more than anyone, considering he’d never been the monogamous type. 

But now he’s in pain. And he doesn’t think he’ll ever be with Charlotte again. That makes him feel cold in a way that he’s never felt before. Lip, desperate for any kind of break he can get from what he’s feeling, rolls his eyes to the sky. “Yeah, fuck it, why not.”

“Gee, you used to be a lot more excited for me to get you off.” she mumbles against his cheek before leaning in to kiss his lips.

Lip turns his head away, pulling his mouth from her reach, “Don’t um, kiss me.”

Karen looks at him for a moment before laughing. “Okay, kissing used to be your thing, not mine.” As she kneels in front of him, Lip finds himself squirming uncomfortably, looking everywhere but down when he feels her unzipping his pants. “Um…are you…is it like, too cold?”

“Uh, no, I’m…gimme a second.” He feels like he can’t breath, the ring on his finger feels like it’s literally fucking scalding his skin. 

“Oh-kay.” 

A few more moments pass and Karen speaks again. “Do you want me to help you? Is there anything I can do?”

“Nope, no, not at all. Just, shut up for one second, please.” He brings his hands together, tugging the ring off and putting it in his pocket and prays.

“You can think of her if you need to. I don’t mind.” she tries again. 

“Um, yeah, maybe.” He squeezes his eyes shut tightly, and lets the images of Charlotte that he’s racked up over time run across his brain. It feels good to think of her. To sift through the memories of her smiling up at him, holding him close, crying out his name. But he couldn’t trick his mind or body. He’s in love. Still. And she’s not the girl on her knees in front of him. “No, no.”

“No?”

“Yeah, sorry, I can’t I’m…I don’t think I can fuck someone who’s not my wife. At least right now.” Or ever. Shit. I’m never gonna get my dick wet again.

“Jeez, that’s serious.” Karen says. She hops up, tucking her hands in her pockets. “What is she? A contortionist?” Lip just looks at her and she sobers, her smile dropping. “Sorry. I’m serious. I’m talking to you as a friend, talk to me. Your wife is hot, and nice, and clearly has a hold over your dick, so what’s the problem, why’d you leave her?”

“She’s perfect.” Lip sighs, lighting another cigarette, the muscle in his jaw jumping as he works back the lump in his throat. He’ll be damned if he cries about this in front of Karen.

“Okay so-”

“She’s perfect. She’s everything, she deserves everything and I am stuck here. I live here. I was born here, I’m gonna live and die here and I don’t want her here to do it with me. So I can’t have her, that’s fine I’m teaching myself that it's fine but it fuckin’ sucks! It fuckin’ sucks Karen, and it’s fuckin’ worse because she’s willing to stay. I hate her for not making this easy!” He roughly throws the bottle into the street, barely missing a parked car.

“Oof. Okay. Clearly, you need to get your mind off of things.” She says, scooting the remainder of the six pack the pair of them bought from the liquor store across the street away from him. “C’mon, let’s get you a real drink and some recreational drugs.”

“You’re making some good tips out there girl, they’re loving you at this party.” 

Charlotte smiles briefly before leaning over the vanity, reapplying her lip gloss in the mirror. 

“Of course they are, they’re actually seeing her. Normally, guests only get a glimpse of the back of her head, before she runs into the back again to check in with her man.” 

“Well, he won’t be checking in today, so-”

“What?”

Trish leans back in her own seat to look at her friend. “Did something happen with you and Lip?”

Charlotte tries to ignore the quiver in her lip and stare forward into the mirror, focusing on the pink she’s applying on her lips. “I dunno, he’s doing his own thing, I’m doing mine, I guess.” 

“Well, that seems-”

“Girl, about time!” Kelsey, one of the girls Charlotte met through the club, claps, pushing her way into Charlotte’s seat. “All you talk about is that man and his gaggle of kids. Now, we can invite you to do fun stuff. We can go out!”

“They’re his siblings, first of all and they’re good kids.” Charlotte sighs, smoothing her hands over her hair.

“Gallagher kids? Okay.”

Charlotte’s eyes narrow, her mouth opening for her to ask her co-worker what the fuck she meant by that, something she would’ve never done a couple of months ago. But Trish beats her to it, patting her arm and shaking her head. Instead of telling her other coworkers about herself, Charlotte settles for rolling her eyes and mumbling, “We could’ve always gone out.”

“Please, the way you used to all but trip over yourself running out the door to climb back on Lip’s dick? When would we have the time to ask?” 

“There’s nothing wrong with the girl loving her man, Renee.” Trish intervenes, leaving her arm tossed around Charlotte’s shoulders. Was she really that pathetic? Did she really spend all her time running behind Phillip? She supposes that she never took the time to think about it while it was happening, but is this what everyone thinks? “Just because you don’t have one.”

“Well,” Kelsey shrugs, rubbing more glitter lotion onto her chest and meeting Charlotte’s eyes in the mirror. “Doesn’t seem like Lottie does either anymore. So, Lottie, have you dislodged yourself from Gallagher’s side or not? Are we going out”

Charlotte fully plans to say yes. For the first time since she’d met her husband, she thought that maybe this is what she should have been doing. She’s only ever had two identities in her life. Mr. and Mrs. Fisher’s daughter, and Phillip Gallagher’s wife. She’s never been Charlotte. Not when she left home, not when she got her first job, she just went from being one person’s possession to another. Maybe this is all a sign that she should focus on being alone. However miserable that sounds. That’s why, whether you believe her or not, she was going to say yes. 

Until her phone rings.

“What’d you even give him anyway?”

“Don’t fucking make it sound like that, it was just some weed and booze!” 

“Fuckin’ weed and booze, he’s on his fuckin’ ass Karen! Fuckin’ idiot!”

“Fuck you! How was I supposed to know he drinks and smokes like a little bitch now?” the blonde girl huffs loudly as she turns back to the drunk man in front of them, barely intelligible as he slams his hands down on the bar again, demanding to be served another drink. “Lip, seriously, we need to fuckin’ go-”

“Get the fuck off me, I’m married.” 

The bar owner emerges from the back again, his cellphone in hand, a scowl on his face. “Aye, Gallagher, she’s takin’ too long, he’s scaring the real customers, get him outta here before I gotta call the cops.”

Ian groans, running his hand down his face, “Yeah, good luck cleanin’ up all the coke you’ve got on these tables before they get here. Fuck off, your place is a dive, Billy.” Turning back to his brother, the redhead, tugs his arm, making the shorter brother stumble but ultimately not moving him at all. “Lip, come the fuck on man.”

“Just fuckin’ leave me alone. Not listenin’ fuckin’ idiot-” he slurs, shoving Ian a little before grabbing a half drunk beer from the bar and downing it. 

“God-fuckin’-damnit-” Ian growls snatching the already empty bottles. His brown eyes catch on something over at the door and his tense stance settles. “Thank god.” he mumbles under his breath.

Karen’s eyes follow his over to a woman who looks just like the one Lip had shown her earlier, a tense, concerned look on her pretty face. Her cheeks dimple as her lips turn down into a frown upon spotting the spectacle in front of her. Her hair is tied up into a clean bun, her body covered with a matching sweat suit. Her eyes look exhausted. So that’s the wife?

“Phillip-”

“Bunny, you’re here, come drink with me, baby.” The blond offers her a crooked, drunk smile that has the same knee weakening effect on both women. His muscled arm shoots out, wrapping around the girl’s waist and tugging her to him, all but dragging her into his lap. 

“No, Phillip, it’s time to go home. Let’s get you up.”

Big blue eyes roll closed, his forehead falling forward, uncoordinatedly thunking against the woman’s forehead. She doesn’t flinch, just keeping her tired, sad eyes on him as he inhales deeply, breathing her in. “We gonna go home together?”

It’s the softest voice Karen has ever heard the eldest Gallagher son use. He’d spoken to her softly before. They’d been best friends, lovers. He was always scared of her leaving…rightfully so. But this, it was like he was scared that she was going to break if he rose his voice too much. It was like he was whispering a secret that’s just for them and everyone else in the room is intruding. Karen hadn’t ever seen anything like it. She likes this for him.

The girl was ordering water, grabbing a straw from over the bar and guiding it to Lip’s mouth as he stayed close, rubbing his hands along her hips and mumbling about missing her between gulps. She hadn’t even looked at Karen, her eyes had locked on Lip since arriving. “Um, I’m Karen by the way.”

Big brown eyes finally take her in. There’s no disdain behind them. No hate. She doesn’t look at her like every other girl who’s ever loved Lip has looked at Karen. She just offers a tired look. Glossed lips parting briefly, snapping shut again when she feels the Lip’s head droop forward onto her shoulder, quick hands shooting up to cup the back of his curls. “I’m Charlotte. I’ve got to get him home, are you okay?”

“I’m..I’m sorry?”

Charlotte bites her lower lip in determination as she pats his cheek, getting him to stir awake again. Her eyes never return to acknowledge Karen. “Up, Bubba, up. Are you okay to get home? I…need to take him home, are you okay?” 

Oh. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Okay, Ian, can you please help him, help him stand?” Karen watches as this woman, Charlotte helps hoist Lip’s weight onto Ian, the redhead slinging his brother’s arm over his shoulder, nodding at Karen as they make their way out of the bar with her…ex? Best friend?

She can’t help but compare herself to the girl. She knew that they were both pretty, generally attractive in different ways. Both short. Big eyes. Round faces. Their difference physically was glaringly obvious, but that wasn’t what mattered. It was in the eyes. Everything is in the eyes. Not the color, but the looks.

When the evening started to turn sour, Karen had been fucking annoyed. She hates babysitting. Hates having to take care of people. That’s why she’s always loved being around Lip in one way or another. That’s why they’d been such good friends. He was the caretaker. He takes care of people. His family, neighborhood kids, her. He doesn’t ask for anything for himself aside from the occasional blowie, and it was mostly a joke. 

Until he asked for more. Until he asked for love, attention and care and a partner. Things that Karen had no interest in. Things that crazy bitch Mandy wasn’t able to give him. He needed too much. He went from something easy to do, someone easy to be around to being this person who needs things. 

It was hard, too hard. Being with Lip is exactly the daunting task people think it would be. But Charlotte, his wife, she’s doing it. She looks exhausted, pissed off, and just caught her husband hanging out with his ex. But she came. She managed to unclench her jaw and offer him a soft look and kind voice. 

Karen had been poison to him. She knows that. She was bad for him, and to be honest, she’d thought that even with the time had passed he wouldn’t have been strong enough to get her out of his system. But, she should have known better than to underestimate Lip Gallagher. He found something good. Someone for him. 

Good for him.

“I know you’re mad at’me.”

“Shut up, man, you’re just gonna make stuff worse.”

“M’talkin to my wife, motherfucker, you shut up.” Lip slurs as Ian all but drags him down the street. “Sweetheart-”

“Phillip, please.” Charlotte begs, voice cracking as she refuses to turn around and face him. Her arms are wrapped tightly around her own form, walking several paces ahead of the Gallagher brothers up the dark road. “Please.” 

It had been going on since they started walking. He keeps trying to talk to her. He keeps calling her all of these sweet names and they fucking hurt. They hurt like him telling her that they could get their marriage annulled. They hurt like him telling her to go with her parents. They fucking hurt like him let her sit on his front porch crying and begging just to see him as he sat on the other side of the door. And now, she understands that he’s drunk or high or whatever, but she needs him to stop talking. 

Her plea is answered with the silence she asked for. Shocked that he actually went silent, Charlotte whips around to see if he’d fallen asleep, but is met with big blue eyes with dilated pupils, brows softened as he meets her shaky gaze. 

The woman turns around so he can’t see her chin tremble as she leads the group onto the streets. Another voice breaks the silence, over the sound of three sets of footsteps, only one set steady, the other two, sloppy and wavering. “Lottie, what do you wanna do?”

She knows what he’s asking. They’re rounding their homes. Where should he put him? Is she going to stay with him? And she immediately feels shame wash over herself. She knows the answers to all of those questions. She should be embarrassed. This man has treated her like shit over the last 24 hours. She hates how he made her feel about herself. She didn’t understand how he could be both the man who strolled past her as if he didn’t know her this morning and the one who was just looking at her the way he did. 

But she’s weak, and he’s everything. 

And she’s already shifting his weight from his brother's arms into hers, stumbling a little under it as she guides him toward her cousin’s house.

“Charlotte.”

“It’s okay.” she breathes. “I’ve got him.”

And she struggles getting him to the door. He tries to help, she can tell. But he’s too fucked up, his motor skills are lacking and only set back any progress she makes. She grips the railing with her spare hand as she helps him up the last step. She tells him to watch his step as she leads him through the doorway, eyes locking V’s as the wooden floors creak under his steps. She ignores the disappointed look on her cousin’s face as she guides her husband to her room. Their room. 

But as she pulls the shoes from his feet and helps him into bed, she’s confident in one thing. Charlotte knows she loves this man. It doesn’t matter what everyone else thinks the breaking point should be, or who they envision her with. She wants him. And she was going to keep acting like it.

Charlotte feels a tightness around her waist as she wakes up in the chair she’d dragged into the bedroom once she’d gotten Phillip settled. Her eyes are already watering as they peel open, burning from tears and exhaustion. 

“I fucked up, Bunny.”

“Yeah,” Charlotte sighs, sniffling a little and letting her head drop back against the wall. “How bad?”

“I fuckin’ hurt you-” his voice is muffled against her stomach, his arms tightening around her, fingers squeeing and releasing the fabric of her shirt. 

“Yes.”

“I hate that. M’just fucked up, y’know? But m’sorry, baby, m’sorry.”

Charlotte is annoyed by the sob that leaves her body involuntarily, causing him to pull her even closer to him, her butt almost hanging off of the chair. She’s even more annoyed that she’s wondering if his knees hurt from kneeling on the floor in front of her. She shouldn’t care. “You left me outs-side alone.”

“I know, baby, I know.” she feels a wet spot forming on her shirt and tries to stop her lower lip from shaking. “Fuckin’ supposed to be taking care of you. I’m a shitty husband, you deserve better. And I’m trying to be that, I swear, Charlotte I fuckin’ swear. I…I’m gettin’ to keep my job, and m’gonna save more, gonna get us some more money, just gimme a little more time, sweetheart. I know this fuckin’ sucks, but I’m gonna do better-”

“You’re hurting me.” Charlotte mumbles, staring up at the ceiling, letting the tears freely fall down her cheeks. 

Suddenly his arms are gone from her waist and he’s staring up at her, frantically running his hands through his curls. “M’sorry, I was holding you too tight-”

“Have I done anything to make you believe I won’t wait? Have I cheated on you? Made you feel bad about not having a house for us? Buying a car right now? Anything? What did I do to deserve you telling me you didn’t want to be with me anymore? Stop hurting me!” She finishes with a stomp, feeling childish. Lip is quiet as he listens to her, his hand running along her thigh in soothing strokes.

“You’re perfect. You didn’t do anything, Charlotte. That’s why I was fuckin’ tryin’ to do the right thing.” Lip huffs, clenching his jaw anxiously. “I was tryin’ to give you up. Because there’s somethin’ wrong with me Charlotte. I can’t get out of my head. Everyday I wake up and hear how too fuckin’ good for me on loop in my head, and then people remind me, and I can say fuck ‘em, they’re not you, I don’t care what they think, but then your parents came-”

“Fuck them too.”

“No,” Lip pushes up off the floor and paces in the room. “Not fuck them, because yes, they’re fuckin’ assholes, but they made you, and you’re fuckin’ everything, so they are pretty much the authority on what’s good shit and what isn’t. I don’t deserve you, they know it, I know it, for some fuckin’ reason, you don’t know it, so let me make this clear for you, Bunny. This shit shouldn’t be so hard. I’m hurting you. That’s not what being in love with you feels like for me. My love for you isn’t good enough, because it’s making you suffer. Being in love with you gives me a fuckin’ reason to breathe. So I was trying to be fuckin’ good. And let you go.”

Charlotte watches as he finishes, standing in front of her. Blue eyes bloodshot. The veins in his neck popping out, his chest rising and falling with effort. He looks so serious. And all she can do is laugh. Literally, put her head in her hands and laugh. 

“Um…what the fuck?” he asks incredulously, watching her shoulders shake with her laughter. 

“You’re such an asshole, Phillip.” she giggles, wiping her wet cheeks, gasping in an attempt to stop her own laughter. 

“I’m really not fuckin’ gettin’ the joke here.”

Charlotte shakes her head, crossing her legs as she sits up fully in the chair, trying not to break at the confusion on his face. “Don’t you think it’s a little too late for you to decide that you want to save me the trouble of being in love with you? You pursued me, you asked me to marry you, you made me love you and it's too late. I’m stuck. You leave, I’m still hurt. You stay, you can choose to man up, make good on your promises, stop feeling sorry for yourself and be a good husband. You want to stop hurting me, then stop hurting me. Stop talking about me deserving better and be better.”

The couple stares at each other from across the room, nothing but white noise from the house fills the air as Charlotte’s challenge hangs between them. A few beats pass before Lip begins slightly nodding his head, the same focused face he keeps when he’s working on a project from work, or doing people’s taxes for extra money. Lip smooths his hand over his jaw, clearing his throat. “Okay. I’ll be better.” 

“Okay.” 

“Can I…uh, hold on a second.” The blond murmurs, crossing the floor and places his hand on her jaw, dragging her up into a deep kiss, absolutely breathing her in as he nearly pushes her chair back with the force he pushes against her. He breaks away only lightly, his lips against hers, as he speaks. “I love you. I’ll be better.”

“I love you too.” she smiles. “And I know.” 

This is good…this is better. I’ll deal with the rest later.

[pippytmi]

For the fake dating thing 11 with whomever you want!

“Do you always get into fist fights on first dates, or am I just lucky?”

There is a bruise already forming on Kara’s jaw, and her hand still has a phantom ache that won’t go away. There might be a touch of blood on the lapel of her shirt, too, but she has been unable to confirm without ready access to a mirror. But it’s this—the firm click of silver six-inch heels against pavement announcing Lena’s arrival—that brings Kara an instant sense of uneasiness.

“It’s kind of in the job description,” Kara shrugs off the rhetorical question. “You know, of being a girlfriend.”

Lena Luthor has an uncanny ability to make Kara feel completely, totally inept in any situation just with a quizzical quirk of an eyebrow and a ruby-red lipsticked frown. Not because she deliberately tries to, but because that’s just the Luthor™ way. Every member of that family seems to have mastered the ability to stare hard enough to make anyone squirm. Even though Kara has known Lena since they were kids—even though they know each other better than anyone else in the world—the effect is the same.

“That might be the most idiotic thing you’ve said all night.” Despite her stoic expression, Lena’s voice is surprisingly soft. “You should have walked away.”

“That would have been worse than not punching Mike Matthews, I think,” Kara says. “Really, I’m ninety-five percent sure I’m supposed to defend your honor, or… whatever the saying is.”

And the strangest thing happens; a glimpse of amusement cracks through Lena’s frown, visible in the ever-so-gentle upturn of the corner of her mouth. “Sorry, did I miss the part where we time traveled a hundred years ago?”

“It’s—you know what I mean,” Kara says. “If I was your real girlfriend everyone would expect me to punch guys in the face for you.”

“Or,” Lena counters, “it might be overkill, since everyone knows you are not inherently a violent person.”

Kara sheepishly tugs at her collar, unable to stop herself from flushing when Lena gazes at her so pointedly. “Does it matter if everyone who meets Mike wants to punch him? Because I’m pretty sure he could make a nun violent.”

“Wow,” Lena says. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say a mean thing about anyone before this.”

“Yeah, well…” Kara grimaces. “Mike Matthews brings it out of me. Or maybe this stuffy party does.” Her hand unconsciously goes back to her jacket, and she has to shrug it off all at once, suddenly feeling constricted in her suit. “I don’t know how you do it.”

Lena must be far more uncomfortable than Kara is, with those high heels and the skintight dress and the overall burden of familial expectations hanging on her shoulders, but she masks it remarkably well. “Practice,” she says—sighs. “And whiskey.”

“Gross,” Kara says, unconsciously crinkling her nose as she works at undoing her tie next. “I’m more of a Capri Sun girl myself.”

A short, stunned laugh emerges before Lena can likely quell it. “Right, how could I forget,” she says, and tilts her head in that curious way she does whenever she has a question she isn’t sure how to ask. But it must pass, because her actual question comes out in the form of: “Is there a reason you’re stripping in full view of the paparazzi?” 

“Fan service?” It’s a weak joke, but it makes Lena roll her eyes in that mock-exasperated way that Kara knows would be a laugh out of anyone else. “I just need to cool off, maybe. Then I promise, I’ll be your doting girlfriend for all the cameras again.” She allows a beat before she adds, perhaps unnecessarily, “Without any violence.”

“Yes, I think my mother would very much prefer that.”

Kara laughs, remembering the horrified look on Lillian Luthor’s face with—admittedly—a bit of glee. “Yeah,” she says, “I’m sure she’s thrilled with how tonight is going.”

“Well, she does think it’s all part of a rebellious phase,” Lena muses. “She’s convinced I’m doing this just to spite her.”

Kara has felt the brunt of Lillian’s disapproval back since she first befriended Lena when they were kids, back when they were auditioning for the same movie. Honestly, there is no telling why Lillian has always disliked Kara. Maybe it was because she wasn’t a nepotism baby like all the rest of crowd, or maybe it was because Kara would sneak Lena out of the giant Luthor mansion to go to the movies, or maybe it was because when they were teenagers Kara had wrecked the Porsche (on a dare)...but that disdain has been steadfast ever since they were young, and it’s never once wavered. Everyone knows it. Lena knows it.

Which is why Kara is unable to keep the confusion out of her voice when she says, “Uh. Aren’t you?”

“Aren’t I…what?” Lena repeats, lost.

“Pretending to date me to spite her?” Kara prompts. “You know. Since she hates me?”

Lena’s brow furrows ever-so-slightly. “I didn’t mean dating you,” she says. “I mean dating in general. She thinks it’s a distraction.” She absentmindedly picks at one of the sequins on her dress, a nervous tic that she has never been able to shake. “God, it’s getting cold out here.”

The temperature is just right for Kara, but Lena has always run cold; Kara’s poked fun at her for it once or twice (or for their entire childhood, but who’s keeping track). An unbidden smile, fonder than it has any right to be, inevitably forms. “Well sit down, so you can leech some of my body heat. Besides, you make me tired just looking at you in those heels.”

“Then I’ll be colder,” Lena objects, eyeing the stone of the fountain edge that Kara is currently sitting on. “No way.”

“You’re the most high maintenance fake girlfriend ever,” Kara feigns annoyance. “Here, then. Sit on my lap. And you can put my jacket over your legs.”

It’s hard to exactly tell with the dim lighting of the streetlights, but Lena—blushes? Maybe? And immediately shakes her head. “I’m too heavy.”

“No such thing,” Kara retorts. “I’ll keep stripping if you don’t sit down, Lena. Then your mother will really have a reason to hate me.”

“You are trying to create scandal everywhere you can tonight, aren’t you?” Lena says, but doesn’t move, only crosses her arms and gives Kara an exasperated look. “It would be a hell of a front page.”

“Wow, Lena, if you wanted me naked all you had to do was ask,” Kara says, undoing the first two buttons of her shirt while Lena continues to glare. Then, for fun, she continues up until she hits the top of her bra and Lena’s jaw fully drops in alarm.

“Oh my God, Kara, stop!”

But the ruse works, because as Lena moves forward as if she’s about to button Kara’s shirt back up (or just push her into the fountain), Kara is able to wrap an arm around Lena’s waist and tug her down. Lena yelps in surprise, arms coming up to squeeze around Kara’s neck, and Kara has to hide a grin into the curls that hit her full force in the face.

“Geez, Lena, you’re like an ice cube. Don’t you own a sweater?”

“You asshole,” Lena says, but there is no bite in her voice, only annoyed defeat. “If I get glitter all over you, I’m not going to apologize.”

“I’ll let it slide, this once.” Kara doesn’t mention that there’s nothing in the world that she wouldn’t let Lena get away with. That’s the inevitable truth of being in love with this girl pretty much her whole life—Kara caves first, and she always has. Whether it was what flavor of Gatorade to get from the vending machine, or whether it was who got to sit down in the only remaining chair for a last minute casting call, or whether it was to tag along to Lena’s prom date so the boy wouldn’t try to kiss her, Kara always let Lena call the shots.

Lena exhales; Kara feels the warmth of Lena’s breath against her temple, feels the steady weight of Lena’s body as she shifts on Kara’s lap, feels the rough pattern of Lena’s dress sequins against her fingertips. “You know you’re my best friend, right?” Lena says suddenly.

Those words always make Kara’s heart skip a beat, like they’re right back to being fifteen and nervously holding each other’s sweaty hands while poring over crumpled scripts. “I’d better be,” Kara quips, if only to keep her sappiness at bay, “or I’m returning the BFF necklaces I brought as our first-anniversary gift.”

“I’m serious,” Lena huffs, and her grip around Kara’s neck tightens just a hair. “Will you let me be serious?”

“Okay, okay. One hundred percent seriousness from here on out, I promise.”

For a moment, the only sound is that of cars passing, of the trickle from the water fountain, of the faint music coming from the party. And when Lena speaks at last, it’s quiet. “I know my mom’s not the…easiest person,” she says. “And if pretending to be my girlfriend is going to make you uncomfortable because you have to deal with her, you don’t have to do it.”

“I’ve been dealing with your mother forever, Lena,” Kara says lightly. “She hasn’t been able to scare me off yet, for as much as she’s tried.”

Lena scoffs, but her hand is unmistakably tender as she fiddles with Kara’s shirt collar. “What happened to being serious?”

“I am serious! Do you or do you not remember that time we went to the water park? I swear she cut a hole in my water tube slide. And let’s not even bring up the whole prom incident, because I swear my hip has never been the same since falling out of your window.”

“She didn’t even know that was you.” Lena laughs, and it’s still somewhat hesitant, but just affectionate enough to reflect her feelings about that memory. “That feels like a lifetime ago.”

Kara inhales, shakily, both the sweet scent of Lena’s perfume and some much-needed air. “In a good way or a bad way?”

Lena presses her forehead into Kara’s jaw, her skin still cold enough that it makes Kara sympathetically squeeze her tighter. “Can you just promise to tell me if you don’t feel comfortable?” she asks, and ignores Kara’s question entirely. “Either with my mother, or…just the pretending part with me.”

“I feel plenty comfortable,” Kara tries, but Lena just reiterates,

“Promise me, Kara. I don't want to lose you.”

Something about the urgency in Lena's tone shifts the mood entirely; Kara swallows tightly and nods obligingly. “Okay. I promise. But you have to tell me, too, if anything becomes…I don't know, too much.”

“Fine,” Lena agrees readily.

“No, wait, but listen,” Kara presses. “Being friends is one thing, but dating is another, and—even if it's fake, we're going to have to do couple things. And I don't want it to ruin our friendship.”

“I also don't want to ruin our friendship,” Lena says. “Which is why I brought it up first.”

“Good. Okay. I just wanted to be sure.” Kara awkwardly shifts, all too aware that this might not be the ideal time and place for this conversation. Much less when Lena's still in her lap, clinging to Kara as if afraid to let go. “So on a scale of one to ten, how badly have I messed up the friendship by fighting Mike?”

Lema hums, considering. “That depends on what he said about me.”

“Um, nothing nice,” Kara says haltingly. “I'd rather not repeat it.”

“Then I'll let it slide…this once.” Lena's hands find their way up to Kara's face, fingertips gentle against the bruise on her jaw. “But you are still an idiot.” She thumbs warmly against the apple of Kara's cheek and gazes at Kara from underneath thick mascaraed eyelashes, then whispers, “And you're my favorite.”

“Your favorite idiot?”

“My favorite person.” Suddenly they're seventeen again, and Kara is sitting on Lena's bedroom floor still tugging at her tux because it itches. Suddenly they're seventeen again, and Lena is biting her lip and unable to catch Kara’s eye. Suddenly they’re seventeen again, and Lena is whispering I wanted you to make sure he didn’t kiss me because I want you to be my first kiss.

Kara blinks, mouth opening and closing for a pause, before she has to fall back on a safe feeling—fall right back to humor, so Lena does not comment on the way Kara’s body automatically tenses. “Aw, Lena,” she manages, “that sounded a lot like you like me.”

“I’m just a good actress,” Lena says mock-haughtily, but her eyes are searching as they lock onto Kara’s, expression softening the way no one else ever really sees. To the world she’s always been some cold, aloof superstar, but to Kara she will always be the best friend who wanted her first kiss to be with the person she trusted most in the world.

“Well for the record,” Kara swallows thickly, “you’re my favorite, too.”

There is a split second—a charged, electric second—where Kara swears Lena is going to kiss her. Her eyes are hooded like they’re about to close, and her face sways closer, her hand still resting on Kara’s bruised jaw. But then she sighs, and Kara can feel the distance before she sees it.

“We should go back inside,” Lena says, abruptly stumbling off of Kara's lap. “Sooner or later we'll have to do damage control.”

It takes a beat for Kara to catch up. “Right,” she says, hastening to button up her shirt and follow. “It wouldn't be a Luthor party without damage control.”

“It's the first time you're the cause, though,” Lena throws over her shoulder. “And don't forget your tie!”

“Got it,” Kara calls, undoing her tie entirely and tossing it into the bushes. “Hey, wait up! Come back and hold my hand.”

That makes Lena freeze in place. “What?”

“For—you know, the cameras,” Kara says, shrugging her suit jacket back on. “So we can show a united front.”

Lena gives her an inscrutable look. “You say the weirdest things sometimes,” she says, but she allows Kara to catch up and intertwine their hands together without further complaint. 

“How else is everyone supposed to know you're not mad at me?” Kara reminds her. “Or that I'm the best girlfriend you've ever had?”

“I doubt they're going to make that assumption based on hand holding.” But as they climb up the steps to rejoin the gala, the low, golden light illuminates that dimpled smile of Lena's that makes Kara breathless. “What makes you think you're the best, anyway?”

“Just a guess,” Kara says, squeezing Lena's hand as they reach the entrance. “Am I?”

“Let's see if you end tonight without any more fights first,” Lena quips, and while her voice is teasing, her smile grows exponentially tender. “Ready?”

“Ready,” Kara echoes quietly, and allows Lena to lead her right through those double doors knowing that she would follow Lena anywhere.