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paranoid-borderline-insane · 4 months

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Not the Intruder I Expected

John Price x she/her reader

Summary: Exhausted after a hard day at work, you come home to an empty house, void of your military husband. Except maybe you’re not as alone as you seemed.

AU where Ghost lives with you and Price as a roommate.

I literally wrote this through text to @tulipsbymybed in about an hour or so, so don’t expect huge things

Warnings: Consensual non-con, unserious ending, established relationship, roleplaying that reader has never climaxed before and has a shitty husband, contextual slut-shaming (part of the roleplay), rope play, not a full smut fic.

Minors, I can't even begin to monitor or curate your internet experience, but DO NOT INTERACT with me or my smut

You’ve just come home from work, headphones still on your ears as you walk your way through your house, humming quietly to the beat, not hearing as a man sits in the living room armchair in the dark, eyes watching your figure as you miss him.

It’s not until you’re beat over, untying your shoes so you can toe them off more comfortably that you feel the blunt side of a knife tuck under your chin and a strong arm wrap around your chest and biceps, pulling you straight into a firm body as you scream, headphones knocked off your head with a strong chin, the man’s hands already occupied.

“Fuckin’ scream again and this knife is going straight through your teeth.”

On instinct your hands are up and wrapped around the arm around your chest, but even you know that no matter how much strength you put into pulling, the arm around you isn’t going to budge.

“Your tosspot of a husband shouldn’t ‘ve made it so clear that he was leaving. ‘ll that tin on his chest made ‘im forget there’s dangerous men ‘ere at home too,”

The knife is tossed, plunging itself perfectly into the wall across from you, in a show of finesse and talent that should have you shaking. Should have you weeping.

Instead you feel a buzz run through your body, the gusset of your underwear beginning to moisten.

The arm that threw the knife is now manhandling you over his shoulder, smacking and grabbing your arse firmly when you squirm as his shoulder blade presses uncomfortably into your stomach.

Your body bounces as it’s thrown on your marital bed, a moment of freedom before the man wrangles your wrists and pulls them together wrapping a rope around them before using his strength to pull your entire body further up the bed, your shoulders aching as they’re pulled to the limit of their sockets with the strain of pulling your body with it.

Once you’re situated to the man’s liking, he wraps the other end of the rope tightly around the bars of the bed frame.

Most other things are a blur as he tugs your work clothes off, the sounds of stitches pulling and the small whimpers you let out as you bite your lip to prevent more noise coming out.

You wouldn’t win against him in any constructive way, he’s proven that with his strength already. Trying to stay quiet and keep the tears to a minimum seems to be your best course of action.

If this man just wanted sex and fear, he could have it from you in spades. The fear was already pouring from you, and sex felt like nothing to you anyway. If your husband, your first love, couldn’t make it feel like anything, this strange, terrifying man wouldn’t be able to fix your broken body. A body unable to receive pleasure, just give it. A hole to fill.

“Oh what’s this ‘ere?” A rip is heard as your underwear is torn from your body by the crotch. The man goes from your legs to pressing a heavy knee by your waist and sneering over you. “What a filthy girl you are. Look at all this slick comin’ from you”

You don’t actually get a chance to look before the gusset is pushed into your mouth, large fingers pressing the fabric that had just been up against your core onto your tongue. Even through your taste buds you can feel how wet the material is though.

“So fuckin wet for a man that isn’t your husband, what a whore,”

Your eyes widen as he smirks at you, staying next to you as he pulls the thigh closest to him up until your lips are pulled apart and your hips have curved uncomfortably just to accommodate how he’s tugged your body to his whims.

Bending down, the man keeps his eyes on yours as he pulls your body closer to his mouth until his mouth is clamped over your cunt like a mutt holding on to a stolen meal. His teeth lightly dig into your flesh as he sucks your whole core into his mouth, allowing his spit to further lubricate as his tongue makes first contact with your clit

A scream comes out of your mouth before you can stop it, his teeth clenching just a bit tighter to hold you still as his face furrows in anger before he pulls away from your flesh.

“What did I fucken’ say!”

“What was that!?” You screech in return, your chest heaving with the tingles from the sensation.

The anger is wiped from the man’s face before being replaced with a wild glee

Not answering your question, his grin only gets bigger with the greed and realisation flowing through him.

Instead of engulfing your entire cunt into his maw again, he instead focuses on wrapping his mouth around your clit, changing the pressure and frequency of his sucking, flicking his tongue when appropriate until you’re crying. Not from fear, but from pleasure.

Screeching and sobbing into the air, neither you or the man caring about the noise anymore. Your legs now sprawled over his body to get closer, shaking down to your toes. Your wrists blindly burning as you unknowingly pull against the force of the rope.

His mouth pulls away with a lewd, wet pop. Fluid all over the bottom half of his jaw as he wildly smiles over you.

“W-wha- wha’ happen-“ you’re exhausted, incoherent, drunk.

Watching as he wipes his jaw on the hair of his arms, the gleam of the fluid shining in what little light is coming through the window.

You’re still heaving, catching your breath as you ask, tracking the fluid that now sticks the dark hairs together.

“L-lube?”

“Why the fuck would ya need lube now?” A glimpse at your eyes and he changes his question, “you think I lubed you up? Nah, love. This’s all you. That husband of yours must be real shit to make you need shit like lube.”

The man shucks off his trousers down to his thighs, now kneeling directly between your thighs, his cock bobbing as it’s released. “Now you stay quiet, Princess. ’m gonna fuck you like a real man”

Lightly pushing his tip against your entrance, it’s clear that even with your wetness, he’s going to be more than just a stretch.

“Jesus. Gonna need t’ take you home at this rate. Your shithole husband’s only been gone 48 hours, no way you’ve tightened up this much after only that long. Gonna need to take you and fuck you open every day till he comes back. Gonna leave you gapin’ by the time he lays eyes on your pretty hole again-“ he’s been babbling this whole time as you’ve clutched the air between your fingers, his gentle pulsing of his hips pressing his cock slowing into your cunt in such a divine way that your eyes are already rolling back and he hasn’t even popped in.

“Yeah, gonna steal y-“ You’re both spooked by the front door slamming, your heads whipping to the direction of the sound.

“I’m home!”

You gasp and whisper, “my husband!”

“You shush.” John snaps quietly down at you, too high strung right now to acknowledge your joke.

The sound of heavy footfalls carry through the house as you both look back at each other.

“He’s not meant to be home yet-“

“I know he’s not meant to be home yet, Kate said he’d be another week at least,”

“He’s on your task force for a reason, I guess”

“Fuckin’ hell” John tucks himself back into his trousers and buttons himself away, pulling his shirt, that was still on, back down over his stomach before trudging over to your bedside table and grabbing scissors before carefully cutting the rope from around your wrists.

Once your hands are free, John only gives your wrists a quick cursory rub, more habit that care right now, before opening and shutting your shared bedroom door with a slam, shouting the other man’s name

John surely would’ve wanted you to stay in bed and wait for him to come back, but your throat hurt from all your crying, and you had missed your ‘roommate’, so you quickly threw on some pyjamas and left the bedroom to join the boys.

“He was an idiot, didn’t even need a scope to clock ‘im”

“Surprised you’re not out celebrating then”

“Nah, Soap and Gaz had paperwork they left undone so they needed to stay behind”

“Should’ve led by example and helped them- what are you doing up?”

“Just thirsty, grabbing a drink”

“Honey-“

“John, I’m okay”

“Everything ‘lright?” Simon asks, eye black creasing as he squints.

“Yeah, great! Just a bit tired.”

You’re looking in the fridge for an electrolyte drink when your forearm is taken and held.

“What the fuck is-“

Looking between the distinct marks of rope burn on your wrist and the scowl Price has continued to wear since he came down the hallway, the pieces finally clicked for Simon.

“Jesus-, Just fuckin’ tell me next time I’ve interrupted your fuckin’ kink shit! ‘m goin’ to the fuckin’ pub then back to base- Jesus Christ.”

Simon continues to swear and cuss you two out as he grabs his duffle bag and leaves the way he came, John taking the time to rub the crease in his brow away and watch you find and sip your drink through his lashes.

Once the front door slams shut again, John sighs heavily and comes to your side to grab your available wrist and inspect it, meeting your eyes when you put your drink down and place your other hand into his for him to check the other wrist.

“You wanna keep going?”

“I’m so tired now, can we just lie in bed and fuck? I don’t wanna do the whole set up again.”

John chuckles before responding

“I’ll grab the burn cream and you go lay back in bed, I’ll be in soon.”

With a kiss on your forehead and both of your hands, John sends you off back to the bedroom, watching you go for a few more seconds before turning back to grab what he needs before he joins you.

#john price #john price x reader #cod #cod x reader #captain john price #captain price #cod price #cod mw #price x reader

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fleurlia · 6 months

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pairing; seunghan x idol reader

genre; angst, kinda fluff, lovers to exes

note; i hope you guys like this! riize has been really on my mind lately, and it was fun writing about them. i think i'll continue if you enjoy it;

your biggest dream was to debut as an idol. it always had been.

and when you finally made at the age seventeen and after some time of relentless work and effort, you could hear the words "congratulations, you did it" and then make your debut alongside your four closest friends. you felt complete, nothing in the world could take away what you now had.

although you were not paid enough for the hours of effort and the amount you did and all the other thousands of negative points, you never felt so happy in your short life and that was enough for you. the sensation of stepping onto the stage once more always rekindled a sense of fulfillment, filling a void you didn't even realize existed.

the first year was magical, creating a bond with your new four best friends who had essentially become an integral part of your family, revived something within you. the amount of trips, especially for someone who had never left the city, the absurd love that you received from the fans. all the experiences that you might remember for the rest of your life had been in that first year as the main vocalist of your group.

you never experienced emptiness like before; everything was consistently whole and fulfilling. even the various roles and positions you held within the group occupied a significant space within you.

until the day you laid your eyes on hong seunghan.

it was obvious that you would fall for him, who wouldn't?

it was like blinking, natural and predictable. you remembered the feeling of simply looking at him and thinking "it's him", nothing like love at first sight or that you were destined to be together – although seunghan sometimes swore to you that you had been made molded for each other. the feeling of falling in love with him was like sleeping and waking up, you didn't notice or remember how you slept but as soon as you opened your eyes in the morning you knew you had slept. you knew you loved seunghan.

your relationship lasted two years. you would remember these years fondly for the rest of your existence.

from his contagious laughter and humor to his sweet voice singing for you to rest in his arms as you both slept. your relationship was filled with love, passion and missing each other, you spent some time in the united states promoting your group and seunghan was preparing for riize's debut since the first months of dating. you more than anyone else hoped for the day he would be on stage with all eyes on him.

the void that was once filled only by stages and fans now also welcomed you with open arms every day as you returned home.

everything started to go wrong just before the group's debut. pictures of seunghan with an old girlfriend began to be uploaded on the internet a few weeks before the official debut day. you knew him, you would recognize his laugh amid thousands, knew exactly what displeased him and even the way he sneezed, so it was obvious that you knew about it and it was never something to bother you because when you two met you were almost adults.

that was the first ugly fight you had, you had never seen him so upset and nervous before that day. you had a stable career, SM had given a preview of your debut as an actress that year and would officially debut you in your fourth year with the group in a drama as the protagonist, you were extremely popular in the eyes of everyone and seunghan was not, he was far from it and would need to try hard to fix the situation, even though it was not a mistake.

you should have broken up, you and him knew that, but it didn't happen. you still don't know how but after practically begging your manager and him compassionately trying to resolve it, your relationship was 'forgotten' and the concern was turned to how to fix the situation.

and then seunghan finally debuted, it was one of the happiest days for both of you and despite all the confusion, the eyes really turned to him. now both shared that feeling of affection to the stage and fans, and at the end of the day returned to each other's arms.

everything seemed fine, but you knew it wasn't deep down, it seemed like a countdown to something neither of you could avoid. around him, he never seemed worried and nervous, always maintaining his sweet smile and calmly passionate eyes for you, but sometimes you could see how he drifted into a worried expression. it was a matter of two months until you broke up.

you didn't see that coming, you never would have.

you had been called to one of those meetings by your manager, it was nothing new. there was always an alignment or agenda adjustments meeting. you left the practice room as if nothing could happen, innocently even smiled at some people on the way. when you opened the door to the meeting room, you could see seunghan and his manager sitting on the other side of your manager's table.

the same boy you woke up that same morning. in his arms.

you can't remember what was said, what was agreed or arranged, but you broke up there, on that silly tuesday, in such a simple and cruel way. two years of your life were erased there in that small room of that big building. seunghan didn't look you in the eyes once or spoke. both of you spent all those minutes in pure silence. while you couldn't take your eyes off the transparent table and then him, he just sat there with no emotions in his face or eyes, it was as if you didn't know him at all. in the end when both of yours managers discussed about the risky relationship and how you and him couldn't keep it for the sake of both careers, he stood up with his manager from the room and then disappeared behind the door.

after that day, you never saw him again.

his hiatus was announced the next day and despite seeing the other members of his group and even interacting with them, you never heard his name or voice again. you didn't return to the apartment that once belonged to both of you until his things disappeared from there and you could move, and even if you had tried to contact him in moments of pure anger at how he could give up on you so easily, he never answered you, and you understood him. you could understand why he had given up, maybe in his place, you would do the same.

a month passed, all the awards and events came, Christmas and New Year also passed, all of them being the first time in two years that you did it without your boyfriend. he was nowhere to be found. the hearts of everyone around you forgot about it, but yours never did. despite all of that, the emptiness you felt was not even filled by fans, projects, or stages, and it continued to haunt you for a while.

until the day you laid your eyes on hong seunghan again, in the winter of the first month of the new year announcing his return to riize.

#riize #riize x reader #riize imagines #seunghan #seunghan x reader #riize fluff #riize fics #seunghan fluff #seunghan angst #fem reader #x reader #riize angst #riize wonbin #seunghan scenarios #hong seunghan

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snowstained · 1 year

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wrong question

yandere!chuuya / gn!reader

yandere, toxic relationship, reader has panic attack, chuuya in a goofy ahh mood, mentions of abuse, i’m too lazy to proof read

tik tok… tik tok… tik tok… tik- the clock broke again. you always thought it was ironic whenever the stupid thing broke. it was your only way to truly tell how long you were there, when he’d come back, how long you have to mentally prepare yourself. but whenever the clock broke you had to recalculate everything.

according to the clock, well, before it broke, you had about 25 minutes left before chuuya came home. 25 minutes left to mentally prepare yourself. 25 minutes left in chains. 25 minutes before a human bomb came in through the door. time bomb, haha, you thought to yourself. time, time, time, time is all you had left. just… time. time until you escaped, time until you died or he died. no, if he dies that would be bad. you’d be left to rot. time is against you. truly.

there you sat in the dim, windowless room. he tried to make it nice at least. well… kind of. you kept yourself occupied with board games and books and music and cards, but it was lackluster. you weren’t allowed to watch tv or go on the internet without chuuya’s supervision. you were at one point, but when he saw that you got through the child-lock and tried seeing if anyone was looking for you on the news that got taken away. kinda funny, huh? you were in your 20s being treated like you weren’t even double digits yet.

there it was, the sound of your prison door unlocking. you weren’t out yet though. daily routine was in order. every day when chuuya came home you were dressed to his liking, whether it be a fancy expensive outfit, jeans and a sweater, or just barely any clothing. whatever he was in the mood for. the second part of the routine was him doing your hair and asking about your day. this moment was very critical, especially if he was in a bad mood. acceptable responses are any variation of “good”, and unacceptable responses are any variation of “bad”, unless it was only bad because you missed him. in that case, “bad” because you missed him must be followed up by “good” now that you see him.

after dressing you up in a nice outfit (which likely meant he was in a good mood today) you were brought out to the living room and made to sit on the couch. chuuya sat behind you, beginning to do your hair. “how was your day? i know i missed you dearly, im so happy to see you now” he said. his voice was unsettling sometimes. so calm, too calm.

“i was a bit bored today, but i’m so happy now that you’re here, chuuya! i missed you,” a forced smile creeped onto your lips “what did you do today? i want to hear about it.” you felt chuuya stiffen up a bit. bad question, he didn’t have a good day after all.

“i saw an old partner today, im not very happy about it” he was clearly mad now. silence fell over the room like a thick blanket of snow. anxiety started to fill you, starting in the pit of your stomach and spreading through your entire body. would you be punished? is he mad at you? how can you fix the situation and make him happy again? your breaths became stuttered and your hands shakey.

“what’s got you so worked up, yn? i can feel you shaking.” was he concerned or faking it? is he gonna hurt you? oh god.

you inhaled sharply before speaking, “i didn’t mean to upset you, chuuya. i’m sorry, i-i’m really really sorry! please forgive me, it was a mistake, i’m so sorry! i shouldn’t have asked!” full blown panic attack. you hyperventilated as the room turned into shapes and colors, your vision became static, touch felt so intense, and nothing you heard made sense.

you saw something move in front of you and grab you, but you didn’t know who or what. you couldn’t make sense of it. he’s gonna hurt me, he’s gonna hurt me, he’s gonna hurt me. that’s all you could think. when you began to calm down you finally made sense of what was happening. it was chuuya holding your hands, staring at you with a concerned look on his face. “yn? are you okay? i’m not gonna hurt you, baby. why would you ever think that? i love you, i’m here to protect you, not hurt you.”

his voice was so soft. calm. worried. it made you mad, but you could express that. why would i ever think you’d hurt me? look at the fucking bruises on my body. every time you’re mad at me i get hurt. you sat still. you said nothing, but your gaze told him what he needed to know. the bruises on your legs, your arms. your now deformed left pinky from when he was angry and accidentally broke three of your fingers. he didn’t take you to a hospital because he didn’t want to get caught, not even a medic for the port mafia. your ring and middle healed fine, but not the pinky.

chuuya’s face was still for a moment. you couldn’t read it, you couldn’t tell what he was feeling, but then he cried. no, he didn’t cry. he sobbed. “it’s my fault, it’s all my fault. you’re scared of me and it’s my fault! i’m supposed to protect you… and i failed. i’m sorry, yn. let me make it up to you, let me try to fix this! i don’t want you to be scared of me.” all you could do was stare. “we can go shopping or somewhere nice to eat or a vacation, whatever you want. name it. i’ll make it happen, it’ll be my apology, and i promise i’ll try to control my violence a little more.”

there were two ways your reply could go. either he would give in and you’d be free, or he’d be taking his promise back quickly. “chuuya… i want you to let me go. that’s how you can make it up to me…” you said it. it was ballsy, and an absolute gamble. but, you said it.

chuuya’s gaze turned back to unreadable. it was silence. how dare you ask to leave him? could you see that he loves you more than the air he breathes? more than life itself? “you’re funny. after all i do, that’s what you really want, huh?” you fucked up, badly. “the money i spent, the tears i shed, the blood i have bled for you! it means nothing, huh? my love means nothing. you’re staying here, with me. you will stay by my side until the day life leaves you. and that day won’t be up to god, that day is up to me. you’re gonna see things my way, i’ll make sure of it. i own you. you’re mine.”

#chuuya x reader #chuya x reader #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #yandere #yandere chuuya #yandere bsd

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s-sturn · 3 months

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𖥔 GET YOU!

part 1

summary: after so many months without contact, Chris and Y/N end up meeting again at a party, however, Chris is too upset, and ends up revealing all the truth to Y/N

warnings: little angst, drunk, crying, fluff, kissing, HAPPY ENDINGG!!

masterlist!

Y/N’s POV

It's been a long time since the last time I didn't leave my apartment.

I was decomposing, just existing without any reason to live.

My friends have been comforting me for all these months, and now they are convincing me to move on and live my life.

It would be difficult for me, even if so many months had passed, the breakup was still very recent for me, and I couldn't get over it at all.

I took a deep breath, arranging a black dress from my closet, extremely stylish, and soon I noticed the mess that was my room and my apartment in total, I tried to make a good arrangement in everything giving a much better appearance to the place, soon I take a relaxing and necessary shower, fixing my hair making small curls with the babyliss, I put on the dress and a black boot with a half high heel.

I leave my room seeing my friends waiting for me to go to the party, everyone praises me making me feel good about myself, I loved them for always being with me. It took us a few minutes and arrived at the place where the party would be, it was basically a celebration of the 1 million of a youtuber named Tara Yummy, these months I was totally off the Internet, so I didn't know her very well, but my friends were close to her and were invited to this party, and soon she said that they could take an escort, and here I am, in front of the door receiving some incredulous and nods looks from some influencers and youtubers that I knew on account of Chris.

I followed my friends until I bumped into someone, I come across in surprise seeing Nick, who lavashed a big smile when he saw me and soon brought me to a long hug, which made me surprised, I return the hug and soon Nick starts talking to me

━━━ Girl, I missed you like so fucking much! ━━━ He spoke happily, while I gave a kind smile, it was good to see Nick, after all, he was my best friend.

━━━ I missed you too, like fuck! ━━━ Our conversation flowed until I felt someone grabbing Nick and whining, it was Chris.

I was paralyzed the second I hit my eyes on him, I could already imagine that I would see him, but not this way.

I could be being very stupid right now, but I was getting worried about Chris' situation, he was really drunk.

The brunette begins to whine incomprehensible things as he started to cry, grabbing Nick and not even noticing my presence.

━━━ I need her back, Nick, everything I need it’s Y/N! ━━━ When I hear these words coming out of Chris' mouth, my expression is totally in shock, all these months in which I thought I was suffering alone, did Chris also suffer?

I was too confused, tears threatened to fall from my eyes, and Chris finally realizes my presence, starting to cry even more and babble things that I didn't understand because he was too drunk.

━━━ Please forgive me, Y/N, I love you! ━━━ The tears that threatened to fall finally spilled, staining my makeup done, I didn't believe what I heard, I waited months for the day Chris would come back to me, even though I thought it was impossible, I wanted him to come back, and he came back. ━━━ Forgive me for acting like a pussy, for being rude, for not grabbing you that morning and telling you how sorry I was and how much I loved and love you! Forget me, Y/N. ━━━ I approach Chris and lean our lips, giving a deep kiss full of love and regret.

Chris put his hands on my cheek and deepened our kiss asking for permission with his tongue, which was soon allowed, our lips moved in sync, as if they were made for each other.

I separated myself from our kiss, leaving our foreheads glued together.

━━━ I love you, Chris. ━━━ The effect of alcohol seems to have decreased and soon I go and slap Chris on the head repressing him. ━━━ Never do that again, do you understand, Sturniolo?

━━━ Yes, ma'! ━━━ We were in a deep eye contact just taking advantage of the moment. ━━━ I love you. ━━━ He said giving me a little kiss on the lips and staring at my face again while caressing my cheek.

Every time I look into your eyes i see it, you’re all I need.

That was cute, but I didn't like this one very much 😭😭😭😭

I’m sorry if there are spelling mistakes!

taglist.

answer this post if u want to be in my taglist!

#chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo fluff #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #nick sturniolo #nick sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo x you #s sturn

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holllandtrash · 1 year

Note

I really have a thing for secret relationships for some reason, so maybe Lewis’s relationship with some pop star or famous actress being outed?

Okay back on my blurb bullshit before i call it a night

this is on par with tonight's met gala butttt you're an actress, you've been dating lewis for almost a year now but you've been keeping busy and working on projects, HOWEVER you're in new york, you're attending the met gala and god damn do you look fucking good

now, you've def been seen at some races before and fans have speculated that you're dating a driver but you and lewis are so private that there's no trace of you two being together anywhere

so anyway you show up the met gala dressed to the fucking nines and who do you run into but danny fucking ricciardo and you know him, of course you know him. the drivers know you're dating lewis its not a secret from them, and there are so many celebs at the met gala its not weird that you would run into a lot that you know (danny being one of them)

so you don't think anything of it when you go up to him and give him a hug and catch up quickly on the carpet and some paparazzi's are like 'y/n!!! danny!! over here! smile!!' and what are you gonna do? say no?? danny's a friend, he's your boyfriends friend too so you pose together

and your first thought is oh god twitter is going to have a field day with these photos. everyone is going to assume you're dating.

and there's been rumours of you dating costars before but as you're smile you're already thinking of ways to put the danny rumours to rest that haven't even started yet, that's where your mind is, you're thinking ahead. you're not in the present.

which means your reaction time wasn't fast enough to stop daniel when he opened his mouth to ask "where's lewis tonight?"

he sees your face, the brief moment of panic and daniel knows he slipped up, he knows he shouldn't have asked that. you obviously don't answer that question because there's about 30 cameras on you, some with mic's and some that undoubtedly picked up on him asking you where the 8 7 time world champion lewis hamilton is.

so you just smile and step away from daniel. the best solution is to just say nothing. daniel nods, fixes his tie and you both go your separate ways.

but oh man does the internet work fast

it's not even two minutes later when your assistant, bless her soul, approaches you hesitantly and whispers in your ear that the specific clip of daniel asking where lewis is is now spreading like wildfire on twitter. and you ask if it's obvious what he's saying and sadly, it is. the audio isn't the best but there's no denying that lewis' name came out of daniel's mouth

this was not how you wanted to go public. in fact, you and lewis never really discussed how it would happen, but daniel ricciardo not thinking before he spoke was certainly never part of the plan.

of course you're panicking, you don't know how lewis is going to react, if he's been told what's going on. he is in miami, it's not like he's somewhere across the world already asleep, there's a chance he too has already seen the clip

when your assistant finds you again before she leaves you for the dinner portion of the evening, she doesn't look stressed, even though you feel stressed.

"what?" you ask, pulling her aside. "have you talked to lewis? is he mad at danny?"

she just shakes her head and opens up instagram. it takes way too long for the content to load but doesn't that always seem to happen in these dire moments where you feel disgustingly sick and have no patience?

finally, she opens up lewis' instagram stories. and right there, the only image he's shared today is one of you taken only minutes ago as you posed on the carpet alone, with what he would say an angelic smile and a devilish stare that could do more harm than good.

and it was impossible to miss the two heart emoji's he added

he heard seen the clip after all and decided to run with it. no sense in hiding the relationship anymore. if anything, lewis was probably thanking his lucky stars that daniel said something because he's been waiting for the perfect opportunity to show you off

the next time someone brings up lewis tonight, you don't shy away from answering

#driver scenarios with em

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pookapufferfish · 5 months

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Maybe I should rest, take it easy y'know

Just kinda stop everything for a bit

I wish my brain could be turned off and on again

Would probably fix a lot

Wish I could convey how I am feeling. Or more like, why am I feeling a certain way. People say I can talk to them about it, but what do I say

I wish seeing people or certain things didn't make me upset, I was actively thinking the other day "I wish I didn't have to see notifications from this person but I don't want to block them because they are a friend, I wish there was like, a one sided block that just hides them from you but not you from them"

Who even thinks that about their friends

I can't even talk to them about it because what do I say, they have probably been through stuff already, I don't want to make their day bad by going "hey friend, I feel like garbage when I see you. I keep trying to get better but I feel like I am moving backwards and now I am starting to go quiet when you are around."

I am scared to talk to them, maybe another day, or time. Or maybe the feeling will just go away.

Someone yelled at me today, I am not mad at them, I think they just had a bad day. But it was something I am kinda vulnerable about. They said sorry but I still feel off.

I feel like I am slow with things. I type slow, I move slow, I react slow. I feel like I slow others down. I am scared to play games with others unless I know the game well because I feel like I am just gonna slow them down or get left behind. And that sucks

I feel like I am out of the loop with a lot of stuff my friends do. And I feel like I can never get back into the loop because I will just get out of loop again. I am always a step behind. I am excluded from the silly inside joke. I am not a part of the fun exclusive group that I couldn't join because I was sleeping. And when I try to act chill and ask for more info or playful beg to join the group. They either ignore it or say that I had to be there. Or they explain why the group was made and "oh if you join next time then we can add you"

And "next time" sucks. Because when is next time, I live on the other side of the planet from a lot of friends. And the ones I don't have timezone differences with are the ones with the strangest sleep schedules or they are busy, or our schedules just don't align. And it hurts when I go to bed and I see friends all playing games together. And I wake up the next morning and people are laughing over all the fun that was had, all the silly jokes I missed, all the chaos. And when I talk about how I am sad I missed it "next time" they say.

As if they aren't gonna do another VC at 10pm my time. As if maybe I could join their game and not be left behind because they move too fast. As if I could be a part of their little groups.

I feel lonely, I feel like I am left out. Once I go back to school I will have no time at all to hang out with friends. But oh don't worry, this weekend we could hang out except no, because everyone is busy. And the cycle repeats.

And when I finally get to hang out with friends and have fun. I feel happy for a while. I feel loved and appreciated. But then I get weighed down, by seeing friends talking about stuff that I can never be a part of, because that stuff already happened, but hey always next time.

I am tired. I wish I could see some of my friends. I wish I could know them better. I wish I could be there for all the next times. I wish I could be happy hearing my friends happily talk about this dumb bit for the fifth time and trying to explain it to me over and over again. I wish I didn't have to cover parts of group artworks because seeing a certain design makes me feel like I am dying.

I want a hug, I need a nap. I have spent an hour writing this dumb ramble that nobody is going to read. It feels a bit cathartic though. Maybe this is how to show my feelings, but it feels too mean and raw.

I think screaming this into the void of the internet is fine, maybe everyone is right, maybe I do need therapy.

This post was just meant to be the first 2 lines, how did it become this mess

Anyways look at this cool dog, isn't he neat

#vent #i am just going to curl up and cry now because that might help

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iris-sistibly · 12 days

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“Baek Hyun-woo,

In the years that we have been together, I realized that you and I have always been destined to be together. Though we might not have been aware until now–the first time we met when we were kids, that was luck. I was lucky because you were there to save me from drowning. The second time, we were teenagers, you placed a band aid on my wounded knee, that was a coincidence. The third time was when you helped me fix the photocopier at the office, that was fate. I think even without knowing that we have already crossed paths when we were younger, deep inside, a part of me has always known that you were the one.

Although our relationship may be far from a fairytale, I have always had you. You are my light in the dark, my comfort in my most vulnerable times, my calm in the midst of a storm, my home when I am lost and have nowhere to go, and my safety in the most fearsome moments. When I found out that I was sick and dying, I prayed so hard and searched far and wide for a miracle, but I realized that I do not need to do that anymore, because the fact that you are still here with me, and the fact that I am spending my life with you is in itself a miracle. The love that you have given me all these years has healed me in so many ways, and for that I am grateful to you. I am grateful for you.

I can’t promise to be a perfect wife, but when things get hard I will be with you in every way possible–to fix whatever is broken, to heal the pain, to hold your hand until I couldn’t anymore, to always choose you, to always love you. The years will pass and our hairs will turn gray and our skin wrinkly, but in my eyes you will always be the most handsome man, the smart and sexy lawyer with his sleeves rolled up and buttoned down shirt, the cutest drunk husband in the world, the most loving father to our little Soo-bin, and best lifetime partner I could ever ask for.

I love you with all my heart, and I will always carry that love even in the afterlife.”

****

Spring is all about new beginnings, renewal, and rebirth. Plants start to sprout, flowers start blooming, and the chilling breeze becomes warmer again. As soon as the cold and gloomy winter ends, like a page in a journal that has been completely filled with words that expresses one’s feelings, and the events that happened that day, it was time to flip the page and start with a clean slate.

May 2nd

To others, it was a seemingly normal day–a day to rush to work, run some errands or just whatever people were planning to do that day. It was about lunchtime, Baek Hyun-woo was just about to head out. He hasn’t seen Hae-in since heading to their respective departments this morning but he was already missing her terribly. He knew she was going to be very busy today, it didn’t help that Secretary Na couldn’t make it to work due to her husband being hospitalized. Coincidentally, his own secretary called in sick that day so someone else had to fill in his role while he recovers.

“Will you be joining us for lunch Mr. Baek?” Mrs. Oh, his secretary for the meantime asked.

He was about to answer when his phone rang, his eyes lit up when he saw the name of the caller flashed on screen, Hong Hae-in . He couldn’t help but smile, the mere sight of it–even just hearing her name makes his heart jump. “You go ahead, I’ll be taking Ms. Hong out for lunch,” he answered. Mrs. Oh nodded and went ahead.

Since they started dating (way before their first wedding), Hyun-woo and Hae-in have been the most interesting subject in a lot of rumors and gossip amongst the employees of the company. Some of it isn't true, a lot of it is an exaggeration of the truth. The internet wasn’t any better, nasty comments have been made about them, crazy theories, even accusations that they were lying about the divorce and Hae-in’s illness. Some of them would go as far as to accuse Hyun-woo of being a gold digger. Regardless, they were adamant at not publicly disclosing too much of their personal lives, not even the press. Sure they’d throw some crumbs occasionally, like the time they confirmed that they were together again during the press conference on the day the family returned to the company, but that was it. Most of the time, they keep it professional. Anything that has nothing to do with Queens are off limits. People can assume all they want, but they don’t owe them an explanation. Only those who are close to them know the truth and that is more than enough.

Most of all, he and Hae-in are what matters.

As soon as Mrs. Oh left, Hyun-woo answered Hae-in’s call.

“Hey I was just about to call to invite you for lunch,” said he.

“Sure! Let’s do that, meet me at the rooftop.”

“What? What do you mean–”

“See you!”

The phone call ended, leaving Hyun-woo perplexed. Nevertheless, he went there. After being reinstated as the Director of the Legal Team, Baek Hyun-woo has earned a newfound respect from the employees, especially those who have been working with him for years. They kept praising him for doing an amazing job at proving Ms. Moh and the late Mr. Yoon Eun-seong’s schemes and ultimately saving the company. They regarded him as “Queen’s Knight-in-Shining Armor,” but for him he simply did what he had to because he also had grown to love the company and treated it as his second home. It is Hong Man-dae’s legacy, and he knows how important it is to Hae-in and her family… their family. Hyun-woo smiled at the thought, after years of walking on eggshells around his in-laws, he finally felt that warm sensation of belongingness he had always hoped for. That same familial bond he has with his side of the family.

The warm spring breeze touched Hyun-woo’s skin as soon as he reached the rooftop, and there she was in her white, bow-tied silk blouse underneath a pastel pink tweed jacket and skirt. The pearl necklace around her neck made her look more sophisticated; she wore her hair down as always and even with light makeup, she looked so beautiful. Instantly, Hyun-woo’s heart started beating rapidly, Hong Hae-in has always exuded that confident, classy woman with a hint of sas and charisma. A lot of people say that she is intimidating, Hyun-woo disagrees. She is assertive, and straightforward, but she also has a softer side–the one that is kind and selfless, the type of person who would rather take all the pain than see her loved ones suffer, a woman who would bravely face any adversity and come out stronger than ever.

That for Hyun-woo is what makes her the most beautiful.

“You’re finally here,” said Hae-in, her voice shook the man out of his reverie, nevertheless his smile never wore off.

“And why of all places in Seoul did you suddenly want to have lunch on the very top of Queens’ building?”

Hae-in shrugged, “Well…for one the view from the top is nice,” she walked towards him at a slow pace. She is definitely a head turner, the way her hair bounced, and the way she smiled as she moved towards him was like watching a drama scene in slow motion. For a moment, Hyun-woo was out of breath.

“Plus it’s quiet and…” she was getting closer and closer, her voice sounding more sensuous, in her eyes was a hint of playfulness , “There’s only two of us here…” when she finally stopped, their distance was barely an inch. Baek Hyun-woo could hear his own heart beating loudly out of his chest, he knew she was teasing him and it was working–it always has. “...so we could have some privacy together, wouldn’t you want that?”

God! Hyun-woo has been desperately fighting the urge to not crush his lips onto hers, and he’d do that–gladly–but not just yet. Who says Hae-in is the only one who knows how to tease? Hyun-woo wrapped his arm around Hae-in’s waist and pulled her, their bodies seemingly glued to one another, Hae-in’s hand on his chest, her eyes locked on his, their stares becoming more intense by the second. Suddenly, the temperature seemed to rise. Hyun-woo smirked as Hae-in’s cheeks turned red, her expression was a mix of surprise and nervousness, the former decided to take it a little further. He leaned towards her and gave her a peck on the lips, “Hong Hae-in, the last time we were in this position, we had Soo-bin…” His voice sounded insanely seductive, “By any chance…” he continued planting small kisses on her cheek, down to her jaw, “Is this your way of telling me that you want another baby?”

He could hear Hae-in gasping for air as he trailed down her neck. He has always loved her scent, but today was different. He couldn’t tell if she was wearing a different perfume or it was just him , but she smells so… intoxicating . It was driving him insane, making him slowly lose every ounce of self-control he has, his kisses becoming more lustful, “Oh…” a soft moan escaped from her mouth, which made him even more aroused. Heavens, if this doesn’t stop now…

“Wait!” Hae-in pushed him abruptly. Her face was flushed all over with little beads of sweat trickling down her face and neck, she was catching her breath like she had just finished a marathon. He felt slightly disappointed but he was never the one who would force Hae-in to do things she doesn’t like or isn’t comfortable with. Besides, they are still within the office premises, never in a million years would they want to be caught by someone else doing other business aside from business.

“Hey! Are you crazy?! There’s no way in hell that I’m gonna conceive at the top of Queens building you know!”

Hyun-woo blinked like a dumb idiot, “So…are you suggesting we go back to Germany and try for another baby?”

Hae-in lightly hit his shoulder, “Seriously? I still don’t know how you got to SNU.”

“Why? Our daughter was made there,” he said matter-of-factly.

“I was the one who got pregnant so I don’t need to be reminded,” she replied almost immediately. Her face became serious afterwards, “Hyun-woo, remember when you proposed for the third time? And I said that I’ll marry you again but I’m gonna be needing some time?”

Hyun-woo nodded.

“Well the truth is…the reason why we’re here is because…I want to tell you that I'm ready,” Hae-in took a deep breath, she never crumbles under pressure but today, she seemed genuinely nervous, “You are my husband, you have always been even when we divorced, nothing changed. You helped me heal my past wounds and made my broken self whole again. I became the best version of myself because of you, and now there is nothing I want more than to give my best–as best as you do to build us a loving home. For you and me, but most especially our daughter,” she held out her hand, “But first, let’s make us official again…shall we?”

Hyun-woo was briefly at a loss for words. Hae-in can be candid at times but this was one of the moments where she surprised him–in the greatest way possible. Tears started forming in his eyes, he was grinning from ear to ear as he held her hand. “Yes,” he answered. He then pulled her back once again and kissed her passionately. He couldn't count how many times they’ve kissed over the years, but each time he felt butterflies in his stomach. His friend, Kim Yang-gi once asked whatever witchcraft Hae-in has been using that makes Hyun-woo gush and coo over her like a cute little teenager having a huge crush on a popular girl. Hyun-woo just shook his head and chuckled, “It’s not witchcraft, it’s love,” he corrected. Yang-gi just rolled his eyes and gulped his bottle of soju.

“I love you,” whispered Hyun-woo when their lips parted.

“I love you too, but I couldn't wait any longer for the wedding.”

Hyun-woo was about to ask what she meant but was interrupted by the sound of a helicopter approaching. When he looked up, he recognized it instantly, it belonged to the Hong family. Hyun-woo shot Hae-in a quizzical look but the latter just smiled and winked at him, both of them watched as it slowly descended, and landed on the helipad.

“Hae-in, what exactly is happening right now?” Hyun-woo was becoming more confused than ever.

“Baek Hyun-woo, do you trust me?”

“Of course.”

“Then let’s get married, now .”

“What?! N-Now?”

Hae-in nodded.

“B-But W-What about our families? Our baby?”

“Oh don’t worry, they’re waiting for us.”

Hae-in pulled him and together ran towards the helicopter. As to how in the world they’re gonna get married on that very day Hyun-woo had zero idea, but whatever happens starting today onwards, he will not hesitate to embrace it–the good, the bad, the happiest and the saddest. There is no such thing as a perfect marriage, at times it can be difficult and complicated. But as long as they have each other, then that’s all they ever need.

Until Forever Ch. 1: To infinity we go

By: Iris

A/N:

This part is inspired by an actor from my country who surprised her partner with the wedding of her dreams (they have been together years prior and share 2 kids). I thought it would be cute, but I live for the role reversals, hence Hae-in is going to surprise her hubby.

Soo-bin was supposed to exist in the later parts, but I ended up doing otherwise because it just clicked to me.

Writing a scene where it requires sexual tension is not really my strong point but...I tried.

#kdrama #netflix #Queen of tears fanfic #baek hyun woo #hong hae in #baekhong #kim soohyun #kim ji won #soowon #Some mentions of soo-bin bc why not?#I'm not moving on #Until forever

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goldeneyedgirl · 6 months

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TwiFicmas23 Day 10: Hybrid AU

Good evening! I had my first drink in a hot minute tonight and it has hit me like a battering ram, so we're doing this fast because I am definitely feeling the effects.

Tonight's is some old Hybrid; it'll be pretty obvious why this ended up being archived (and I honestly don't know if this counts as Hybrid or Hybrid baby-verse).

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy it!

tw: mention of miscarriage

After the Cullens left, I was kind of at a loss. I know they hoped Bella and I would stick together, but that didn’t happen.

Simon and Dad were sympathetic and let me mope around the house a bit. But I was exhausted. I was sleeping sixteen hours a day when I had the opportunity and still felt like I had pulled an all-nighter. My schoolwork was fairly average but enough that no one called Dad. I managed to scrape enough energy together to help plan Cynthia’s fifteenth birthday party, and then Thanksgiving.

It was Christmas Day when I figured out what was wrong with me. I was exhausted all the time, and eating ridiculous amounts of food but still looked like a prisoner of war. I got out of bed and went into the bathroom, getting on the scales to find out that I’d lost another two pounds. Simon would notice soon, and I had no idea what to tell him.

And then I spied Cynthia’s box of tampons on the shelf, and I had to brace myself on the counter for a moment. My period was a rare and unwelcome visitor, and hardly a trustworthy indicator of anything but... it made sense.

“Oh, Alice, honey, this arrived for you a couple of days ago,” Simon said, plucking a small box from under the tree. It was still in its mailing box, with my name and address typed on the label but no return address or indication of who it was from.

Inside was a small black jewelry box, and for a second, I thought perhaps Jasper had sent me something. I hoped he’d sent me something. Even just a letter would have fixed everything.

I ripped into it, and the contents spilled into my lap, and it took me a moment to understand what I was looking at. It was a silver sun charm on a black ribbon, with smaller stars dotted along the band, though one was missing.

It had been my mother’s. I remembered her wearing it; she'd never taken it off. I could see the stain of blood on the ribbon, the frayed edge where the knife bit into her, and for a moment, the room swam.

“Who is it from?” Dad asked curiously.

I put the necklace down with shaking hands, trying hard to act normal, and plucked the card up. It was black too, with a white crest – the shield, candle, and compass of the Benoits, the Latin motto running along the bottom – Ex Deus Veritas. Truth in God, coined by the Order.

On the back of the card, the message was short.

Our best wishes of the season to you and your family, Mary-Alice.

Meaning: we know where you and your family are.

The bag I packed was like so many others. Basic, warm clothing; my first aid kit, a new phone I had bought in Port Angeles, money. I had ordered a ton of gift cards over the internet, since they weren’t traceable. Nothing sentimental was meant to come with me, but in the end, I saved a photograph of Jasper and I to my new phone.

And then I left Forks.

it sounds all fun and luxurious to say I ran off to Hawaii.

The truth was, Mexico would have been way better but with the vampire and Order problem down there, I chose the one place in America you are least likely to get cornered by a vampire: Hawaii.

Specifically Paukaa, which was home to less than 600 people. I was nothing more than another post-high school traveler who decided to stay. I rented a tiny one-room place from a family and got a job at a café. It was quiet and safe and I settled into a mind-numbing existence.

I hadn’t contacted anyone back in Forks or even checked my email. As far as everyone was concerned, Mary-Alice Brandon had disappeared for the last time – I half-hoped they’d declare me dead.

I was Mary Hale here.

It was a little embarrassing, yes, taking Jasper’s fake surname, but it kept me hidden because I doubted anyone would think to run a search on that name. And none of the Cullens called me ‘Mary’ anyway.

It had been a few months. The hardest. When the test came back positive, I had tried to find the Denali clan in Alaska, to pass on a message to the Cullens. To find help.

I got close - so close. I made it to Anchorage after almost two weeks of traveling; I didn't have a lot of money, I didn't want my fake I.D. questioned too much, and I was terrified I was being followed and kept double-backing and waiting to throw any stalkers off my trail. I was pretty sick by then, but I was certain I would make it. Hell, I'd broken into the Cullens' before I'd left and found a map in Carlisle's study that had helped me narrow down the Denali home a lot.

Then I woke up in the Anchorage ER with the news I’d collapsed on the street and miscarried.

I didn’t know what to do with that information.

I probably should have gone home to Forks and my Dad and pretended it had never happened. Or actually tracked down the Denali clan and demanded they get me in contact with the Cullens anyway. But the Benoits knew where my family was, and I just couldn’t. I didn’t want to see anyone I knew before ever again. I didn’t want to look them in the eyes and have to explain everything. I didn’t want to be Alice Brandon anymore.

So I didn’t. As soon as they released me from the hospital, I bought the first plane ticket to Hawaii. Actually, it was the next scheduled flight. They could have flown me to the moon, and I didn’t care.

That had been in January. It was now August, and it seemed surreal to me now. It felt like a movie I’d watched. Sad, but distant. It was easier to pretend it had happened to someone else, and just focus on each day. I had enough problems to deal with - I still hadn't managed to gain back any weight, probably because I was a shitty cook living on a diet of orange juice and minute-ramen; I barely made enough to cover my cost of living and had no particular way of getting a better job; and I barely slept, plagued with nightmares.

And now I was dreaming again, the truth had slammed into my head. Bella was in so much danger. Victoria was coming for her with a newborn army, and the Cullens were long gone.

I couldn't stay away and let Bella die - let that newborn army descend upon Forks without warning.

If nothing else, I had to protect Bella. And my family. Worst-case scenario, I could trade myself for the safety of others. I could try and take Victoria, though she would most likely win, especially when I was so weak and out of shape. Death sounded very peaceful.

Maybe I’d see my baby there. And Mom.

I didn’t tell anyone I was coming home. I told the café I had a ‘sick family member’, and I didn’t know if I’d be back. I gave the same story to the family I rented my place from. And then I packed up, bought the cheapest airline ticket I could get, and went home again.

When I slept on the plane, I realized the Cullens had come back to Forks. Bella was better protected than I anticipated, but they still didn’t know what was coming for them. Not to mention the danger that Simon, Dad, and Cynthia were in.

I didn’t look like much. My hair was shorter than I had ever worn it, and I was the thinnest I had ever been - that was including the years I spent in the hospital and on the street. Dark circles had set up residence underneath my eyes. I was wearing the only pair of jeans that I fitted me, and they were wearing thin. My sweater had shrunk, leaving a bare panel of skin between my waistband and the frayed hemline. And my sneakers were held together with hope and super glue.

Rather than go home and deal with Simon and Dad, I went straight to the Cullens.

It was Esme who opened the door, blinked and gasped, pulling me into a hug I couldn’t return.

“Oh, Alice, where have you been?” Esme pulled away, smoothing my hair back from my face. “We’ve all be so worried! Come in, Jasper is going to be over the moon to see you.”

I managed a quivering smile as Esme drew me into the house, into the living room where everyone was gathered, everyone’s eyes on me.

“Alice…” Jasper went from standing in the corner to at my side, pulling me into his arms, my body stiff as I reluctantly curled against him, breathing in his scent of forest and books and something indistinguishably him. “Darlin’, where have you been?”

I just shook my head. If I spoke, I’d start crying and I’d never stop. When Jasper pulled away, he must have seen that in my face and reached up to cradle my cheek. “Are you alright?” he murmured and I let out a shuddering breath.

“You’re in danger,” I managed, pulling away from Jasper reluctantly. “Victoria is returning, she’s in the area and she has her eye on Bella. And the Benoits are coming – to destroy you, the Quiluetes, and my family.”

An hour later, Esme had put a plate of food in front of me, looking worried. I was eating, my stomach twisting at the invasion of food that wasn't bought at a convenience store.

The pasta was good, but I couldn’t enjoy it.

Dad and Simon had been so grateful that I was home, there were no questions or accusations. Just more food, a shower, and bed. Simon had checked on me half a dozen times, looking so worried.

I slept badly, shallowly, my dreams twisted around the baby, the hospital. Terror and pain that I didn’t know were memories or imagined suffering. I dreamt of blood and misery, and woke up screaming twice – the first time, I wasn’t even awake when Dad came in to try and sooth me; I woke up with him half-rocking me, smoothing my hair back and trying to calm my sobs and screams.

“It’s going to be okay, sweetheart,” he murmured.

“I wish I had died,” I sobbed, half-asleep.

“Oh, honey, don’t ever say that,” Dad said.

He managed to get me back to sleep, my hair sticking to my clammy face, before I woke up screaming again, and Simon managed to get me to take something, leaving me in a soupy state that at least kept me quiet so everyone else could sleep.

I didn’t stir again til nearly dawn, my dreams blood-splattered and full of desperation. The drugs left me boneless and vulnerable, and when I finally opened my eyes, I couldn’t scream or call for help or do anything but lie there, staring at the ceiling. My hand lay on the pillow beside me, but I stared at it as if it wasn’t even mine.

I ended up dozing a little; clearly enough that my visions kicked in – I could see Carlisle, Esme, and Jasper arriving at the house, Dad and Simon looking grim. Well, Dad looked miserable and old. Simon had this professional nurse ‘this is bad’ face on.

“How is she?” Carlisle asked, after they were invited in.

“Broken,” Dad murmured, looking worn out and distressed.

“Screaming night terrors,” Simon clarified, putting his arms around my father’s shoulders. “I ended up giving her some Valium – we’d get her back to sleep, and minutes later, the screaming would start again.”

“You drugged her?” Jasper demanded, a dangerous look in his eyes.

“We didn’t have a choice. It was Valium or I called 911,” Simon said gently. “I couldn’t treat someone for trauma in my own house at midnight. Hell, I couldn’t treat someone for trauma without a doctor present. The Valium prescription was one of Alice’s when she arrived. And she needed sleep.”

“She kept telling us she wished she had died,” Dad added. “Over and over again. It’s all she would say.”

Esme and Carlisle looked shaken, but Jasper had just shut down entirely.

I managed to drag myself out of bed, and into the shower, but eschewed clothing for a clean pair of pajama bottoms and tee, running my fingers through my hair. It needed to be washed.

My chest felt tight as I sat down in front of the food Simon had made for me. Simon was still cooking, with Dad, Carlisle, Esme, and Jasper gathered around the island with me.

I felt hollow and exhausted as I considered the plate of fruit and yogurt, along with two slices of toast. I managed a small bite and felt the cool cloud of Jasper’s gift seeping into myself, not bothering to resist.

“Where have you been, Alice?” Dad asked gently.

I flinched, and then rearranged my expression again, poking some melon with my fork. “Away,” I said softly. “Somewhere safe.”

“You weren’t safe here?” Simon asked.

I brought another bite of food to my mouth to avoid answering the question; I didn’t want to say it, but they were all watching me.

“Not anymore. Not after Christmas,” I mumbled into my fruit.

Finally, I gave up. I got up and left the table, padding up to my bedroom, where my backpack was. The folded piece of paper was filthy and crumpled, but still legible, thankfully.

No one was expecting me to return to the kitchen, clearly. I slid the folded paper across to Simon and Carlisle.

Jasper would be disgusted with me. That I’d only gotten sick because he’d left me and I had been trying to find them when they didn’t want to be found. I always knew I was twisted up and ruined inside, thanks to Mommy Dearest, but this was the proof. I had had an opportunity to give Jasper the one impossible thing, and I had fucking failed.

I missed him, I needed him. He was my other half, the lost fragment. And in two short steps, I was curled in his rather startled arms, my face half-buried in his shirt.

It took Simon and Carlisle only a moment to decipher the medical shorthand, and Simon looked up at me in horror. Carlisle just looked so sad. I let out a shuddering breath, breathing in Jasper’s scent, and waited.

“Oh, kiddo,” Simon said, looking heartbroken. “Alice, why didn’t you tell us?”

“What?” Dad said, squinting at the paper.

“Alice, have you seen a doctor since?” Carlisle asked kindly. I shook my head.

“Okay, you need to be checked out, as soon as possible,” he said.

I didn’t have any energy left, and went back upstairs. It felt like cheating, to have Carlisle and Simon to tell everyone, to do my dirty work. But the idea of voicing those thoughts, those words, made my stomach twist tightly.

My bed was cool and smelt like home. It was good to be here, to be back. That was what I was telling myself.

#alice cullen #jasper hale #jalice #ficmas #ficmas23 #my fic: hybrid #my fic: hybrid baby-verse #no more drinking before ficmas posts - my newest rule #angst

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chaotic-super · 1 year

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Live With Me - Chapter 15

Read Live With Me on AO3 here!

Kara wakes up in bed alone. It’s dark out and the opposite side of the bed is still made to perfection, adding to her confusion that is most definitely caused by waking up alone for the first time in a long time and a mild headache.

She tugs herself free of the sheets and climbs to her feet, wobbling a little before getting her balance. Once she’s upright, her hand comes up to rest against her neck as she realizes how dry her throat is. She has to make a pitstop in the kitchen once she’s figured out where her wayward girlfriend has gone.

The stairs creak beneath her feet. It’s something Lena keeps complaining about and has been promising to get it sorted out as soon as their lives aren’t as hectic and they can trust someone enough to come into the house to fix it. Kara doesn’t have the heart to tell her that she loves the creaky stairs; she thinks it gives the house character and reminds her of the creaky floorboards in the Danvers’ house. Those floorboards used to soothe her at night when she could hear people moving about the house, a constant reminder that she was not alone. If it annoys Lena though, she has no problem letting her get it fixed, her new constant reminder is the way she wakes up in her arms every morning, or at least, she usually does.

Stumbling into the living room, she’s greeted by the sight of Lena smooshed up into the armchair with her laptop balanced on the arm. She has a blanket draped across her that covers every part of her body except her head and the hand closest to her laptop so she can still type, albeit slowly since she’s doing it one-handed.

“Hey.” Kara mumbles, plopping down on the empty couch, Lucy nowhere in sight. “Did Lucy leave already?”

Lena looks up at her, her eyes soft and lingering. “No, she couldn’t make it out because the crowd hasn’t dissipated any. She’s in the guest room. I think she’s still awake and working but she wanted a little privacy. I can’t blame her; she’s been stuck with us all day.”

Kara nods, completely understanding. “Ah, I see. What time is it anyway?”

“It’s late, almost ten.” Lena answers, snapping her laptop closed and pushing herself up off the chair with a grunt, her blanket still wrapped around her snuggly. She smushes herself into Kara’s side, her head resting against her shoulder for a second until Kara wraps her arm around her, and then her head falls to her chest. “I’m sorry I got you drunk for the livestream.”

“Oh, crap. I forgot about that. It’s not your fault I’m a lightweight. Besides, I should have known better than to drink at a time like this.”

Lena shakes her head, the movement making Kara feel like Lena is trying to burrow into her skin. “Don’t be silly, darling, if there’s any time you should be drinking it’s when the government are simultaneously trying to destroy your life and murder you. If it makes you feel any better though, you did win a lot of people over with your antics on the livestream. I’ve been fielding questions on Twitter since we were live but I think the people of the internet would like to hear from Little Miss Lightweight herself.”

“Are there a lot of people asking questions on Twitter?” Kara cringes at the thought. “I can barely remember the livestream so seeing what they’re asking is kind of scary.”

“You didn’t do anything too bad, don’t worry.” Lena smiles. “You just complimented my jawline a lot and showed how utterly obsessed you are with me, that’s all.”

Kara facepalms. “Please tell me you managed to save the livestream so it wasn’t a complete waste?”

“I answered a lot of the professional questions, don’t worry. You didn’t ruin it anyway, it actually got a lot of people on our side, it turns out that I’m not the only person who adores your cute rambles. You showed a lot of humanity and that goes a long way, now, get your butt on Twitter, I’m going to have a nap while you do that.”

“Ok, let me just go and grab a drink, my mouth is as dry as a witch’s tit.”

Lena barks out a laugh. “You should drink more often if it gets that kind of comment out of you. Have you had a personality change?”

“I think somehow your drinks have turned me into you.” Kara jokes, pushing Lena off her gently so she can stand up. “Want me to grab you a drink too?”

“No thank you, I’ll just have a little bit of yours.”

“Ok.”

Kara goes and grabs herself a can of soda out of the fridge and just as she’s about to close the door, she hesitates and grabs another one. She’s fallen for Lena’s claims of only wanting a sip before and it always ends with her being the one only having a quick mouthful and Lena drinking the rest of it. She hides the second can behind her back and as she moves into the living room, she places it on the side table beside the couch where Lena won’t see it unless she’s looking for it.

Lena doesn’t spot her doing so because while she is still awake, her eyes are closed and her head tilted back against the cushions of the couch, sleep slowly creeping in on her. Kara picks up the laptop Lena was using not too long ago and takes her spot next to Lena, cracking the can open and taking a gulp before handing the can to Lena.

Lena takes several gulps and Kara rolls her eyes at her. She was right to grab the second one. Lena hands the can back to her, two-thirds of the contents now missing.

“Thanks,” Kara mutters and Lena hums in response, oblivious to the sarcasm in her voice. Kara’s not mad though, especially not when Lena unravels the blanket from around herself partially to cover Kara up too so they are wrapped in a little burrito of love and soda thievery.

“Oh, by the way, a bunch of people did as you requested and have sent you pictures of their pets.” Lena sleepily informs her, her head pressing into her shoulder.

“What?” Kara’s hands speed up, logging into the laptop and then Twitter as quickly as she can, her bright blue eyes scanning the screen excitedly in search of the pictures she so desperately needs to see right this second.

Her Twitter feed is a mess but Lena wasn’t lying, there are a whole lot of animal pictures for her to go through, most of them dog pictures, her favourite.

“Can you admire the dogs a little bit quieter please?”

“I didn’t even say anything.”

“I could feel your excitement in the air.” Lena mumbles.”

“Then…no.”

“Ugh. Ok.” Lena holds her hand out and Kara takes the hint, pressing the can back into her hand. Lena finishes it off and then resumes her previous position, getting closer and closer to the sanctity of sleep with every second that passes.

Kara takes back the can and immediately opens the other one. She actually really likes this side of Lena, the side where she’s relaxed and annoying and real. This is the side of her only she gets to see, the parts of her that Lena doesn’t try to make perfect. She allows herself to just be who she is and react naturally rather than wearing a mask.

Getting back on track, she starts sifting through the comments and pictures, smiling at the puppy pictures and cringing at the lovesick puppy pictures of herself looking over at Lena, screenshots from the livestream. Well, she can see why Alex used to get annoyed at her for being so obliviously in love with Lena because if that’s what she used to always look like before she admitted her feelings to both herself and to Lena, that must have been spectacularlyannoying for Alex.

Her fingers fly across her keyboard, answering the less invasive questions and any that aren’t too serious. She can already see that Lena answered a lot and is trying to avoid answering any that Lena has already addressed so there aren’t any discrepancies in their stories for anyone to latch onto.

She counts herself lucky though because it seems as though people aren’t as interested in the details of the case as much as they are trying to pry into her personal life. That would usually be a bad thing but in this case, it’s nice. It’s giving her the opportunity to tell the world how great Lena is when she’s usually entangled in the negative press that comes with having Lex Luthor as a brother.

It’s very difficult containing herself and not turn every question or comment into a reason to go off on a tangent about how beautiful and smart and kind and resilient Lena is. She just wants to shower her with compliments and show the world just how amazing she is, to force them to believe in her the way she does.

Soothed by the gentle breaths and snores in her ear, Kara passes the time until Lena eventually stirs and demands they go to bed.

Kara is more than happy to comply, simply glad that the next time she wakes up, it will be with Lena right by her side.

It’s not just Lucy that manages to sneak out first thing in the morning but also both Kara and Lena. It seems as though some of the drama and need to see them in person has died down overnight, probably due to them doing the livestream yesterday and then tweeting about it directly afterwards, giving the media outlets something to report on, even if it isn’t much more than the basic statements they already had, they can now take the more personal angle on it thanks to Kara.

They get to the car with very little interaction with the people outside, most of them just taking photos. A couple of them try to shove their cameras in their faces and ask questions but Kara takes the petty route of turning her back every time one specific guy points his camera at her and the footage of that from another reporter actually ends up online, another point for Kara. She’s quickly winning the hearts of the nation without even trying.

They find that out when they arrive at CatCo through the back entrance and are escorted by security up to Cat’s office. They aren’t entirely sure what’s going on until Cat stands up from her chair and dismisses the security guys with a wave of a hand.

“Good morning, ladies. It’s such a shame you’re so boring and monogamous, you don’t get to appreciate the muscles of the guys I’ve hired to keep the rodents out of the building. There is a couple of very attractive ladies downstairs guarding the art department though that might be just your speed if you decide to dive into non-monogamy.”

“Can we just get to work?” Lena side-eyes Kara, mostly because she doesn’t understand how Kara isn’t fazed by anything Cat’s saying but she supposes that after years of working with her, it’s not the biggest leap that she’s just numb to it.

“Whatever, work’s going well, you’ve been doing well. Kara, great stunt with that creep outside your house, you won internet points for it.”

Kara loses her blank expression, trading it in for a more startled expression. “Oh, um…I wasn’t expecting people to see that.”

“That’s why people love it.” Cat swipes her glasses off her face and places them down atop her desk. “People like it when you are genuine. You might be annoying but you are genuine. That doesn’t mean I want you to drunkenly lust after your girlfriend on a livestream though. We need to control the narrative and while you have done a great job and your tweets, which I have been checking, have been a great way to prove we are being open and honest, we need to close off momentarily because Ms Nal’s partner has concluded the job of setting up a secure computer for us to use to upload the proof. We need to go over exactly what we’re releasing and make no further statements on the matter until it is officially out there. Got it?”

“Got it,” Kara says as Lena and Lucy nod resolutely, trusting Cat on this. If there’s one woman that can get them through this, it’s her.

“Why don’t you two lovebirds go and wait in Kara’s office and keep Nia from bugging her boy toy and slowing him down until it’s done while Lucy and I discuss a few matters?” Cat asks but it’s clear that her question is much more akin to a demand.

“Ok.” Lena grabs Kara’s hand and guides her out of the office.

The security guys follow them to Kara’s office just a few steps behind them but don’t follow them into the room. They close the door behind them and greet the two people already in there. Kara’s not super stoked that her office is the headquarters for the team but she gets it, sometimes there’s just a need and they are doing a lot for her so she can’t really complain.

Nia is sitting in her office chair just spinning around in a circle, the chair moved to the middle of the room beneath the ceiling fan and she’s following the rotations, very obviously bored out of her mind.

Brainy is working diligently on a fancy yet beefy-looking laptop that has a million wires coming and going all over the place, headphones affixed over his ears, probably to block out the sounds Nia’s making so he can concentrate.

Lena’s hands reach out and stop Nia from continuing to spin in the chair. “Hello.”

Nia tilts her head back so she can see Lena’s face and her mouth turns up into a massive smile. “Hey! You’ve escaped your tower, Rapunzel!”

“It’s more of a house.” Lena rolls her eyes and pushes the chair, and subsequently Nia too, across the room closer to where the chair should actually be but it can’t go in the exact right spot because Brainy is using Kara’s desk.

“Hi, Nia. Hi, Brainy,” Kara says, waving at them each in turn and getting a half-hearted two-finger lift off the keyboard from Brainy. She supposes that’s enough of an acknowledgement though and doesn’t mind.

Nia rests her head on her closed fist, her elbow resting on the flimsy arm of the chair. “So, I watched your livestream.”

Kara’s chipper attitude fades some. There’s definitely some teasing coming. “I’m not surprised.”

“Don’t get that sour look on your face, I thought it was cute. I don’t often get to see that mushy side of you because you’re mostly professional at work apart from the handholding. I’ve seen you ramble about a lot of things but that whole rant about Lena’s jawline being sculpted by the Gods, that was just too much for me, I about died of cuteness overload.”

Without Kara’s consent, a blush spreads across her cheeks. She’s not ashamed of her love for Lena and will happily shout it from the rooftops but there’s just something strange about it being CatCo’s rooftop. This is her workplace and while her relationship is now very public, it doesn’t feel natural to be discussing this or the way she gushed about Lena yesterday while here.

“Stop bullying her, Nia. You know she’s delicate.” Lena wraps her arm around Kara’s waist, a semi-teasing smile gracing her lips. “Let’s just sit in awkward silence until Brainy is done. Ok?”

“Whatever.” Nia shrugs.

Even though Lena is the one that suggested the silence, she’s the one that is the one hating it the most. She’s not someone that is very good at just sitting around and doing nothing all day, or even just sitting and doing nothing for ten minutes apparently.

The only time she’s happy to just sit and relax is when she’s got a certain blonde doing something she can leer at her for, usually gardening. She does look good when she’s bent over the violas and surprisingly, that’s not a euphemism. She also looks good bent over the pansies. That is a euphemism.

Lena takes a glance to the side to see Kara just sitting there, the light shining down on her and reflecting in her pretty blonde locks like droplets of sunlight caught soft waves. She looks good enough to eat. They should have stayed home.

At least Lena’s not bored anymore.

It turns out that Lena doesn’t need Kara to be gardening to find her ridiculously attractive and have her be her entertainment. Every once in a while she looks up and catches Lena’s eye and when she sees the barely concealed predatory look, her blush grows and she looks away bashfully. Lena can’t get enough of it. They may have only just left the house but she’s certainly looking forward to getting back there so she can ravish Kara.

Brainy pulls his headphones off rather aggressively and it grabs their attention and wipes the seductive look off Lena’s face and lightens her eyes from the dark gaze she was holding previously.

“I’ve got it. It’s done.” He stands up, his spine straighter than any of them in the room and tucks his hands behind his back. “You may plug in your USB device now and you can rest assured that your data will be safe.”

“Uh, thanks, Brainy,” Kara says, still a little flustered because of what Lena can say without saying anything at all but the feeling dissipating and being replaced by a wave of relief that they are finally able to put their proof out into the world.

“Isn’t he just the best?” Nia asks, standing up and pressing a peck to his cheek, garnering the most human reaction he has had since they met him today by widening his eyes and ducking his head.

“Sure, Nia. He’s pretty great. Would you mind grabbing Ms Grant so we can start planning the proof release?” Lena asks.

Kara jumps in before Nia can accept though. “I’ll go, I have to grab the USB from where I hid it anyway.”

“Want me to come with you?” Lena asks but Kara shakes her head.

“I’ll only be a minute, sit back and rejoice in this little win.”

Lena sits back down, reassuring herself that Kara is right, she will only be a minute. She watches closely as Kara leaves and gestures for Nia to sit on the chair Kara just vacated rather than the desk chair, garnering a confused nose scrunch.

In response to that look, Lena huffs. “If you think you deserve the good chair and won’t get kicked out of it when Ms Grant comes in here, you’re very much wrong.”

“Fine.” Nia gives in and Brainy moves his chair next to Nia’s.

Kara goes to Cat’s office first to get her and finds her alone so Lucy must be off doing something important that doesn’t include babysitting them so they don’t do anything worse than drunken livestreams.

“Hey, Ms Grant, Brainy has finished up with the computer now.”

Cat simply nods and stands up. She gathers a few items off her desk and piles them on top of her notebook before joining Kara at the door. Kara gets a glance at them and sees that it’s just her glasses, her phone and her lucky pen. Cat’s feeling good about this if she’s bringing her lucky pen.

“We just have to stop and get the USB.”

“Lead the way.”

Kara doesn’t waste any time, she strides right towards Snapper’s old office, completely ignoring the intrigued looks of her co-workers but she does notice the stress and apprehension on their faces and in their tight postures. It’s understandable, something huge is going down and the person in the middle of it keeps showing up at work and acting strangely.

Cat tuts at her when she gets just inside the door to Snapper’s office because she digs her hand right into the plant pot she hid the USB in. Her nails fill up with soil and her fingers hand to wiggle around a little but it’s there, she still has it and it’s right where she left it.

She was a little worried it would have been found, especially when she was walking up here and saw that the room has been partially emptied, just a desk, a chair and some empty shelves remaining. Clearly filling the role of Editor-In-Chief isn’t at the top of Ms Grant’s priority list at the minute.

“Got it.”

“You better wash your hands.”

“I will once this is safely in the office with the rest of the group, don’t worry.”

Cat nods but she isn’t satisfied. They barely get a few more steps before she speaks again, not being able to hold her tongue. “You’re dropping dirt in my building.”

Kara doesn’t dignify that with a response but she does tighten her grip of the USB and keeps marching towards her office. The door swings open after Cat grabs the handle. Kara did go to grab it but a sharp clearing of Cat’s throat has her hand retreating. Apparently, she’s not allowed to open the door when her hand is dirty even though she reached out with her clean hand.

“One USB.” Kara holds it out to Brainy, allowing him the honours. “I grew that myself, as you can see.” Her shoulders sink when her joke doesn’t land but Lena’s comforting hand runs over her shoulder blades.

“Tough crowd, I thought it was funny though.”

“Thanks, baby.” Kara mumbles. “I’m just going to go and wash my hand, keep an eye on the idiots for me.”

“You got it, don’t be long.”

The proof is posted to CatCo’s website along with the actual article that was meant to be released before right at midnight and it’s fast-growing to be one of the most viewed articles in CatCo’s history.

Every media company they can think of have written articles on it or posted about it in some way. It’s insane how the word is spreading that the long-awaited proof is out there now and people are drinking it in.

With the release though, they have been wary. They went home just after it was posted and came back to the office first thing in the morning but they would be lying if they said they weren’t worried now.

If the government weren’t wanting them dead before, they probably will now because they now have the proof they need to show that something more sinister is definitely at play and putting the heat on them. Not only that though, but the public is now also aware that they are in danger because of what they know so at least everyone will know the truth if they do get offed before their time and they will see the government for the corrupt body it is, not that most everyone in the US and across the globe doesn’t already know that, at least to some extent.

Kara and Lena are alone in Kara’s office. Now that the article is live, Kara is working on her next one. One where she’s detailing the hardships they faced and the explanation for the late publishing of the video of Snapper in her office and the actual article along with every other little scrap of proof they could get their hands on.

While she’s doing that, Lena is simultaneously keeping an eye on Twitter to see what the reactions to the article are and also getting back into some of her work for L-Corp. While most of it’s been covered already by Sam, her CFO, she feels terrible that it’s all being dumped on her, even if she is being compensated for it greatly, she knows just how much time she must be sacrificing with her daughter to keep the company afloat and step into her shoes while they get all of this sorted out.

There’s really not much she can do other than sign a few documents and go over a couple of projects that need to be approved though because Sam is so on top of things she has managed to get things more organized than she’s had them in years, even going as far as getting a couple of days ahead in certain areas where Lena is chronically behind. She’s going to have to pin her down for a conversation so she can teach her how to do that because no matter how many hours she’s put in before, she’s never been that organized. She has to have a secret about how she’s managed it.

“Kara, you’re getting a whole lot of positive attention here.”

“Really?” Kara looks up from her laptop.

Lena hums her confirmation. “It’s looking really good. I bet your next article will be another boost for us as well.”

“Let’s hope so.”

A frantic knock at the door has them on edge. It’s quick and light but the sound is heavy and nerve-wracking.

“Come in,” Lena calls.

Franklin, a trusted co-worker of Kara’s, pokes his head in the door. “Kara, you better come out here, the state governor is here and she’s asking to see you.”

“What?” Kara can barely believe what she’s hearing and is up and heading out of her office right away. She has an idea of where she needs to go without asking and goes right for Ms Grant’s office, Franklin and Lena right behind her.

She finds the office empty though. “Oh, where is she?” She turns to Franklin. “I would have thought she would be in here with Ms Grant.”

“Ms Grant wouldn’t let them upstairs. They are in the lobby.”

Kara’s eyebrows shoot up into her hairline. Cat has pulled many tricks but keeping someone as important as the state governor in the lobby is something she couldn’t have anticipated but if anyone is going to make a power move like that one, it’s Cat motherfucking Grant. “That’s very…whatever. Let’s go.”

Lena and Kara step out of the elevator in unison, Franklin trailing behind them, his eyes alert as he keeps track of what’s going on like he’s afraid he’s about to miss something. The security guards are still present but the dozen guards that were stationed down here have been joined by at least another dozen, probably more, all ready and waiting to throw out The Governor and anyone else that they are instructed to do so.

The Governor is joined by her own guards, six of them all stationed around her in a loose hexagon that could tighten up to the sharpest of shapes in an instant.

“Ms Danvers, Ms Luthor. I’m glad you could join us.” The Governor notices them as they stalk forward to Cat’s side, who is standing in front of the Governor and her guards, arms crossed and looking seven feet tall in all of her feisty glory.

“What can we do for you, Governor?” Kara asks, her chest puffed in faux confidence, her voice as commanding as she can make it, taking a leaf out of Lena’s book from when she has her CEO persona in place.

“I was hoping to speak to you in private, are you certain that isn’t possible?” She turns her attention between Kara, Lena and Cat, seeking approval she has already been denied as far as Kara and Lena can see.

Cat shakes her head. “This is as far into my building as you’re getting. You can speak freely or don’t, that’s completely up to you.”

The Governor doesn’t look pleased but nods anyway, accepting that she’s not going to be getting very far with her request. “Alright, here is fine. Ms Danvers, your presence has been requested at The White House. The President wishes to speak to you in person.”

Kara’s eyes bulge along with Lena’s, Cat’s and Franklin’s.

“I believe it is quite obvious what he would like to discuss with you since it’s the top news story at every media station in the country. He has sent me to collect you and have you escorted there right away.”

“And if I refuse?”

The guards step forward.

“I don’t believe we need to discuss hypotheticals.”

“I want Ms Grant and Ms Luthor to join me too,” Kara demands.

The Governor has no issues with that, a single head nod allowing it. “You may bring guests with you but the meeting will be between you and The President alone as far as I’m aware. Please come with me.”

Cat doesn’t move when The Governor heads for the door and since Kara and Lena are a half-step behind her, they don’t move either.

The Governor and the guards take note of that and move back towards them threateningly.

“I will be collecting a few of my things from upstairs, as will Ms Danvers and Ms Luthor. We will be back soon, feel free to wait in the lobby.” Cat announces to them, not giving them time to argue before she’s ushering them into the elevator, leaving poor Franklin behind in her rush to stab the close-door button so they can’t be forcibly followed.

As they are on their way up, Cat turns to them. “We have to be careful about this. Kara, you’re going to be on your own for some of this, hold your ground and be the reporter I know you can be. Do not allow yourself to be bullied into anything. You hear me?”

“I hear you.”

“Excellent. Gather a few things from your desk to make it look like we weren’t just buying time. Leave your phones with Nia. I will bring some of my backup phones and pass them off as ours, bring your phone cases though. We have to take every precaution here, no matter what.”

Kara and Lena go right to Kara’s office and grab a couple of things. For Kara, it’s just a couple of notebooks and for Lena, it’s one of Kara’s spare notebooks and her keys, minus her house key. They stop by Nia’s desk and leave their phones with her, having her put them in her purse and also asking her to keep an eye on their laptops too since they are in Kara’s office. She can go and grab them later when they aren’t being watched by everyone in the bullpen.

Cat joins them a second later but she must have locked her phone up in her hidden safe that Kara only knows about because she was trusted with the code after two and a half years of being her assistant but before that, she didn’t even know of its existence because it’s hidden behind a panel in her private bathroom. Come to think of it, that would have been a better place for the USB drive rather than a plant pot but she can’t be blamed for that choice when she was under pressure and also traumatized.

“Nia, I want you to have CatCo make a statement that the three of us have been taken to The White House. I want you to slyly add in that it wasn’t completely of our own will. Do that however you will and also notify Alex Danvers of our whereabouts, please. Also, notify HR that you and Franklin have been put in charge of this and work will whomever they set up to lead the company temporarily, most likely Marcus. He’s a bit of a pompous asshole but I’m sure you can deal with him. Good luck.”

Cat starts marching away so Kara and Lena say their goodbyes quickly and head after her, passing Franklin on the way. Kara taps his arm, “Nia will fill you in, go talk to her.”

They are loaded into a car very fast upon getting back to the lobby, probably because they are afraid they will be left out of the loop again and will be forced to take actual action to bring them in and have that plastered all over the news too.

Kara takes Lena’s hand as she sits between her girlfriend and her boss. It’s mostly for her sake but she can feel Lena’s tight grip on her in a way that very much shows that she needs this just as much as she does.

A few minutes into the car ride, hidden by the gentle flow of Kara’s skirt, Cat’s hand travels to rest gently over the top of Kara’s. Not grabbing, just resting. Kara’s not sure if it’s for her benefit or for Cat’s but she’s not moving that hand. She’ll wait for Cat to move it first.

A while goes by of the silent car ride, nobody talking at all. The Governor is in another car but there are guards in the row behind them in the car and also one beside the driver, not that they could make a move because there is a very obvious screen between all of the rows of seats meaning that they are completely contained. They don’t have to try the doors to know they are locked.

The car pulls up at a familiar place. A smaller airport that is used for private planes, one that both Cat and Lena have used on a multitude of occasions and one that Kara has thanks to Lena. She’s not forgetting it in a hurry either. She’s not going to have the opportunity to get the same treatment on this flight though, these guards do not want a show of Lena railing Kara into unconsciousness on the plane, unfortunately.

The door is pulled open and a guard ushers them out, his jacket pushed back behind the holster on his hip, showing off his gun, probably purposeful.

They climb out one by one and are told to stay put. The car pulls away and parks a little way away back towards the actual parking lot.

Cat leans into the pair. “No talking on this trip, we are being listened to so until we know for sure what is happening, you stay quiet.” She leans halfway back before remembering something and leaning back in. “Also, never leave your purses unattended.”

Lena lowers her voice. “Got it.”

“Kara?” Cat asks, needing her confirmation too.

“Got it, too.”

“Good.”

The Governor meanders over, looking all too proud of herself for getting them here. She’s done her job so she doesn’t care about much else. “I’m glad you’ve made the right choice. You will be directed to board soon and accommodation will be provided for you upon your arrival. Ms Danvers, I assume your meeting with The President will be almost immediate, I believe that your meeting has been prioritized.”

“Thanks for the update,” Kara says, her voice monotone.

“You’re so very welcome.” The Governor’s voice is so full of egotistical smugness that it makes them want to either puke on her expensive heels or push her over and it’s hard to tell which is the better choice.

Lena shakes her head at her as she walks away but that one gesture says far more than any words could but Kara knows what words she would say, she can practically hear them ringing in her head and it’s enough to make a sailor cringe.

The three of them look up at the plane. It’s sleek and modern, definitely worth a pretty penny and it’s taking them somewhere they don’t really want to go. It’s taking them somewhere full of unknowns they don’t know how to deal with.

All they know is that while they know what’s waiting for them when they get off the plane physically, they can’t prepare themselves for what’s going to be waiting for them otherwise. They can only hope it’s something good. They like cake. Cake would be good. They have a feeling it’s not going to be cake.

Read the next chapter early on Patreon here!

#cw supergirl #supercorp #lena luthor #supergirl #kara danvers #kara x lena #fanfic #supercorp endgame #supercorp fanfic #kara zor el #kara leaned in #fanfiction #fluff #chaoticsuper #live with me

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theslowhipster · 1 month

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I think I'm a Pretty Good:tm: Liar?(Inspired by The People's Joker, kinda (not really)) // Queer Trans Ramblings

I want to write something long and beautiful about my thoughts, but I don't know how it's going to come across. (its definitely long though)

Ever since I started living as myself (and for myself), I've been thinking a lot about art that I've created in the past. How I was a happy kid, but underneath all of that I was angry and upset. Content to be the person everyone expected me to be, but never myself. For example, in 5th grade I wrote a short fantasy story using deadname as my self insert. I never felt any closeness to that name, no one ever really called me by it so I thought that was why it felt wrong. But even for the end of the story I couldn't find any happiness for him.

It wasn't a violent end, and it wasn't even his fault. The carelessness of the dragon he trusted with his life flew too high and he could no longer breathe. I remember my teacher at the time showed concern that something was wrong. Most 9 year olds don't write a story where they are the main character, horrible things happen to them, everything is described as awkward and nonsensical, and then they die. But my parents saw their "son" trying really hard to be happy for them and the consensus was "Garnet's just like that."

There feels like there were so many of those moments, too. "Oh no, Garnet's struggling in school, and she thinks it's because she might have ADHD. Let's get her tested," (slightly paraphrased and with different pronouns, obv.) But, once the only people asked were my parents and teachers who I was told later all said some variant on "yeah she could have it, but she's happy and well adjusted." And obviously I don't blame any of them, I was lying about who I was to make the people I cared about most love me.

I was so desperate to be the person they thought I was when I started to come out about my sexual preferences I did it out of anger to hurt my parents. We never really talked about it after the fact, but I know from talking to one of my sisters that they never really believed it. (Jokes on them, I'm a happily married pansexual in a lesbian relationship now). And this anger stayed with me, this frustration that I couldn't put my finger on. I think its what really soured our whole relationship in my teenage years.

When I left for college I was so happy and excited, I could redefine who I was, for myself this time. But after about 6 months, I started feeling trapped all over again and stopped going to classes. I was still trying to be "Garnet" the son that my parents loved and it was destroying me. Eventually, my behavior got me kicked out of school because I had failed literally every single class I was in for two quarters in a row. Because I missed the freedom that being myself gave me, I was determined to earn that back. So I moved back home, and started going to community college with the goal of being myself. That was the first time since probably Elementary school that I had gotten perfect grades.

Eventually I was able to transfer back to university, and reconnected with my at-the-time girlfriend (now wife <3) and started taking classes for an entirely different degree than the one I had originally intended, thinking this would be what fixed me. The following academic year I got an apartment off campus and got serious about my education. I had done it, I'd become the right version of me. Or at least I thought I had.

I ended up making (what I thought was) a friend during my studies; we were in the same major, liked all the same things, and they felt punk and queer as could be. Exactly the kind of community I had tried to build in high school. We'd talk for hours about nerd culture, the darker sides of the internet, and they introduced me to a deeper queer community and furry shit in a way that made all of it way more approachable than in the past. Like the dragon in the story I'd written almost a decade earlier, because of them I was able to see everything from a new perspective that felt more authentic.

But like any dragon, being around them is harmful to your health. While they were (knowingly or not) pushing me to be my most authentic self, they were also trying to separate me from my girlfriend. Verbally abusing them in what I now assume was a desperate attempt to have me all to themselves (something I saw them do to others and thought nothing of it because we were friends and I thought there was no way they'd do that to me). Eventually, they brought me "high" enough that I started to see some of the cracks in myself. How I was still not happy, even though I had everything I thought I'd ever want. Eventually I came out to them as questioning my gender, and they were very supportive; but before I could figure out exactly what it was we stopped being friends and I found out everything that they had been doing behind my back.

We had finally reached the end of [REDACTED]'s story, he was blacking out due to lack of oxygen. The same end I had predicted 14 years prior, lifted up by someone he trusted to the point where he was so changed he was dead. And you would think that it is would be a sad ending, but he was never a happy person and honestly? I think this was the best ending he could've gotten.

Thankfully I still had other friends around me who could act as a pseudo parachute in this metaphor. [REDACTED] had died, and Jemma came back in his place. But also, she was there the whole time. When I was writing the story, I always knew that this wasn't the end of that character. I had always lied to myself and said that he survived it, that he only blacked out and eventually came to. But I think that deep down, I knew that this was a metaphor for becoming who I was always meant to be. That sometimes we have to destroy the parts of us that aren't really ourselves in order to be happy.

My story still isn't over, but at least now I feel like myself, and I know why everything felt wrong. I still have some things I need to work out, but at least I know why social settings are so hard and I know why I hated looking at myself in the mirror (before a few days ago, the last time I remember seeing someone I recognized as myself in the mirror was when I was six years old). I also now know why I fall so hard and so fast with so many people all at once, and have a loving wife who supports me in exploring that. I don't think I would have any of this though, unless [REDACTED] had died and I took his place.

#I do things sometimes #ramblings #talking to the void #hopefully this will have some meaning for someone #trans #transgender #trans thoughts #brief polyamory cameo #cw: fictional death #maybe I'll post the story I'm talking about but idk #I definitely want to start making art again #queer

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darsynia · 1 year

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Until My Steps Return | Tony Stark/OC oneshot

Summary: Tony Stark and his girlfriend Leigh Balci make up for the three days he was away on a business trip. Explicit sex, minors DNI

Length: 5,655

Notes: Set in a soulmate AU where Tony's first word to Leigh, 'Tony,' is written on her right wrist. Leigh has waist-length blonde hair. Established relationship.

Tags: @starryeyes2000 @raith-way @arrthurpendragon @themaradaniels @starksbf @chickensarentcheap @tiny-anne @munstysmind

Excerpt:

“I tell you what, can you go into the bedroom and grab my robe? Not the one that looks like you can see through it if you squint hard enough. I would like to be decent for the elevator ride."

“I think I missed a step?” He’s stalled out on the racetrack, too horny to remember the steps to fixing a flooded engine.

She tosses her hair back and pulls it onto a shoulder, squeezing the towel against it. Her brown eyes are loving and amused. “You want me in the penthouse, right?”

“I want you everywhere.” He grins. “But, yes.”

“Well, until you invent a teleporter, I will need to be clothed for that particular trip, Tony.”

“Two robes, coming up.”

Until My Steps Return

Tony Stark wishes he was the kind of man who has a doctor on retainer, one who will prescribe whatever the heck you want, just because you’re rich. He’s that kind of rich, but he was never that kind of an addict. He’s addicted to pleasure of all kinds, he can admit it. Tony spent years chasing variety, and the truth is, he doesn’t really regret that. Now, though? Now he has variety in constancy, and he likes it so much better.

Now, he has Leigh. His soulmate.

Except, not right now. Because he’s on an airplane, and even though it’s a fast one, it’ll still be another six hours of flight time, combined with another hour of nonsense before he can come home to his tower. He won’t even come directly home to his girlfriend, not really, because she hasn’t moved into his penthouse yet, despite the fact that he’d actually begged her to, the day he’d left for this business trip. Begged. Him! Outside some very specific sexual scenarios, Tony Stark simply does not beg. But he’s in love, and so is she, so he feels comfortable to push boundaries.

The annoying part is, it’s his plane, and it has a bed. If he had a sleeping pill available, if he could skip the rest of this flight by sleeping through it, Tony absolutely would. He’s still going to try, but it’s not a guarantee, and he doesn’t want to drink to do it. The last thing he wants is to come home to Leigh with a hangover. They’re due to get in right after dinner, and he wants… well. Thinking about that right now would not be conducive to sleeping. If he heads to that bed in this aircraft, given its history? That’ll be what he spends his time thinking about. He’d rather do those things with her instead, in a few hours, instead of by himself, without her.

Tony sighs, pulling the travel pillow out from under his head and hugging it to his chest petulantly. He can fly. He has the power of the internet at his fingertips with an AI smart enough to cut through the busywork bullshit. He has enough money to obtain pretty much anything he wants, whenever he wants it. But he can’t make time move any faster, and that’s just some kind of bullshit.

Tony: The fact that the Concorde is no longer a thing is absolutely not okay

Leigh: I miss you too, three days is too long.

Leigh: You should sleep, the flight will go faster.

Tony: Yeah, I know. I keep thinking about what I want to do when I get home, and it’s keeping me awake

Tony: I could tell you if you like. Then you could tell me what you’d do in response

Leigh: Oh I don’t think so.

Leigh: You should have thought about this exact scenario before you told me that you have FRIDAY read out your texts when your hands are busy, hmm?

Tony: fuck.

Leigh: Patience, patience.

She’s not in the penthouse when he gets in, which is probably not surprising. Tony puts his things down and frowns down at his wrinkly suit. He should take a shower, but there’s a nonzero chance of doing that with Leigh, and he’d never turn that down. He hops into the elevator and heads down to her floor. When he rings at the door, there’s no answer, but five seconds after hitting the button, the door opens. He feels a surge of affection for her. She must have asked FRIDAY to code it to let him in. The sound of the shower is loud when he gets inside, and there's a tantalizing hint of her spicy shampoo. He finds out shortly that this is because she’s left the bathroom door open.

Tony undoes his tie and leans in the doorway. “You know you have full access to the penthouse?” he says, by way of greeting her.

Leigh’s rinsing suds out of her hair, which apparently means freeing the shower head to handheld mode and lifting chunks of her wet hair with one hand while going over it with the spray. The motion shakes her breasts enticingly, not that he has the greatest view through the mostly fogged over glass of her small shower.

“I don’t know how to make the shower head strong enough for my needs,” she says.

“Well!” Tony says, laughing. “I can’t help but notice there aren’t any towels in here.”

“I was counting on your plane to come in on time,” she says, her voice rich with amusement. “I’m more than a little grateful that worked out.”

“What’s in it for me?”

The water shuts off, and he can see Leigh move close to the fogged-up door of the shower. Instead of opening it, though, she pushes up against it with her chest. Her nipples pebble up from the cold as soon as they touch the glass, despite the heat of her shower, the rest of her body merely a shadow in the background. She keeps going until her breasts are spread out, literally on display for him.

“You can get me so sweaty and gross I’ll need a second shower,” she says. Her voice is throaty, with just a hint of vocal fry.

“Towels, coming right up.”

Her laugh chases him out into the hallway where the linen closet is. Tony is already so turned on from her visual display that his pants are getting uncomfortably tight, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He comes back with four towels and a sense of determination. Because she is a complete adorable tease, Leigh takes the first towel and wraps it around herself, tucking it in so the edges overlap in the front, but barely by much.

“Easy access?” he asks.

“First things first,” she says, leaning over and taking towel number two. “The receptionist at work bought me one of those super absorbent hair towel turban things in our Secret Santa exchange the first year I worked there. I was really tempted to take a picture of just how little of my hair fits in one of those.”

The bathroom in her apartment is a fraction of the size of his. Leigh’s faced away, basically standing right beside him, and the rhythmic movement of her arms squeezing the water from her hair as she’s bent over is affecting him a lot. The strong clean scent of her spicy shampoo fills the room, enhancing his desire for her. Leigh does a little wiggle as she rubs the towel against her neck. The towel she had wrapped around her body falls off.

“Oops.”

Tony pulls her up against him. Her body is damp and warm, and he groans to feel her heat after missing her for so many days and nights. He kisses her shoulder, hearing her hum in approval, and Tony slides his hand up from her stomach to the underside of her breast, straightening her spine so he can access the back of her neck.

“As much as I love where this is heading, the end result right now is a face full of wet hair for me,” she reminds him.

“Hair dryer?”

She gasps in affronted horror, and pulls away.

“No hair dryer,” Tony says, dutifully.

“Better,” she laughs. “I tell you what, can you go into the bedroom and grab my robe? Not the one that looks like you can see through it if you squint hard enough. You can take that up with us, but I would like to be decent for the elevator ride."

“I think I missed a step?” He’s stalled out on the racetrack, too horny to remember the steps to fixing a flooded engine.

She tosses her hair back and pulls it onto a shoulder, squeezing the towel against it. Her brown eyes are loving and amused. “You want me in the penthouse, right?”

“I want you everywhere.” He grins. “But, yes.”

“Well, until you invent a teleporter, I will need to be clothed for that particular trip, Tony.”

“Two robes, coming up.”

He takes time in her bedroom to adjust the press of his boxer briefs on his erection. Tony has a suspicion that Leigh timed this deliberately, setting obstacles (sexy, fun ones, at that) between him and what he wants to do with her. He is completely certain she wouldn’t admit it if he asked, though.

He finds the robe she doesn’t want to wear in the elevator and completely understands why. It’s white, made of a soft, see-through material covered in lacy vine patterns in a golden yellow color. The only part of it that’s in any way opaque is a three inch thick ribbon belt that wouldn’t cover anything pertinent anyway. He loves it. Tony grabs the lavender fluffy robe she has hanging in her closet, too.

When he gets back into the bathroom, her hair looks much more dry, and the towel wrapped around her body is back.

“This is my new favorite thing,” Tony says, holding up the filmy robe. He drapes it around his neck like a scarf. It barely weighs anything. “And here’s your ticket to barely decent-ville,” he tells her, waving the purple robe.

“Thanks. My hands are full, though. Can you--” Leigh says. She’s toweling off the top of her head and comes over, pushing her chest out where the towel around her torso is precariously tucked in between the valley of her breasts.

“This is a concerted effort to kill me,” Tony declares, but he reaches for the towel. Then, he snatches his hand back. Tipping his head to the side, he examines the structural integrity of the tuck, leaning over and closing his lips around the small glimpse of towel hem sticking up between her breasts. Mostly, he’s kissing her, but he tugs just a bit, and the towel collapses under its own weight.

He’s beyond caring how obvious he is, now, banding an arm around her waist and bending his head to paint his tongue across her damp, delicious skin, lower and lower until he nuzzles her nipple with his nose.

“Tony,” Leigh says, her voice urgent.

“Mm hmm,” he murmurs, curling his tongue around her nipple, loving the way she catches her breath and clings to him, her towel and still-damp hair forgotten. Tony walks her back against the doorframe so he can slide his hand around and thumb at her other nipple, pressing his knee between her legs in a vain attempt to support her.

Suddenly, Leigh hisses, and he pulls back. “What?”

“Hinge,” she says ruefully. With both hands apologetically pressed to his chest, she sucks a kiss to his lips and steps away.

“I put it there vindictively. So you’ll move in with me,” he says.

“Yes, this hinge stamped with--” Leigh leans over and pretends to read out, “‘Hinge-City, purveyors of fine pain inducements to move since 2010 when this tower was built and you hadn't met me yet.’ Wow!” she grins at him. “You were right.”

“Put on the robe, Miss Balci,” Tony says.

She trails a hand along his neck where the revealing robe is resting, then bends down to pick up the purple one.

“Head up, I’ll be there soon,” Tony says, gritting his teeth. He should just drag her over to her bed and take her, but she’s being tempting on purpose, trying to entice him with the ability to have sex with her in two separate places. Really, he wants her up in the penthouse with him all the time, and he will not be dissuaded.

“What?” she asks, fastening the tie around her waist, her hair in disarray, brown eyes dark with how much she wants him.

“I am synched to a completely fucked up time zone, I just spent however long on an airplane, and I want to wake up in my own bed next to you after however much time we spend catching up. I do not , and don’t you dare ever quote me on this, want to have sex in the elevator.”

Leigh laughs, and he even finds that sexy, Tony realizes. “Okay. See you soon.”

She walks out of her apartment barefoot. He almost chases her and reneges, but his back won’t thank him, and he never was the kind to have a Dr. Feelgood to fall back on, there.

Besides, the two of them have a great track record when it comes to her waiting for him to show up, horny as all hell.

Tony doesn’t see Leigh when he steps out of the elevator into the living room of the penthouse. This is actually encouraging, because he wants her to feel more at home in his space. He doesn’t see her in the bedroom either, though, so he checks in his large bathroom to find it empty as well. Only when he walks out of there does he see her, leaning up against the wall waiting for him. Leigh’s got one foot flat on the wall, separating the sides of her robe. She sways that leg, giving him a shadowed glimpse of what lies underneath it.

Tony had never understood the lure of sirens until he met her. He’s hers with gratitude, no reservations, no matter what might tear him apart in the future because of it. He doesn’t even care that he’s a sailor shipwrecked on her shores, as long as he gets to know what that tastes like.

“I thought about this moment all day,” he tells her. “Come here.”

Leigh smiles and pushes off from the wall, but when she is close enough for him to reach for her, she pauses and shakes her head at him.

“Let me undress you?” she asks. Leigh’s a little nervous, he can see, but he fucking loves when she’s shy but brave like this. It always, always works out well for them.

Because he’s a recalcitrant asshole who wants her to manhandle him, Tony adopts a sardonic expression and slides both hands into his pockets before nodding. The little determined twist of her lips in response makes him ache to touch her.

Leigh steps close, choosing not to take on the challenge of removing his suit coat while his hands are in his pockets. She instead slides her hands up from his chest to the small buttons that hold his collar to the shirt, undoing them. She’s distracted enough by this that Tony sneaks his hand out of his pocket and grabs one free end of the bow keeping her robe closed. Leigh’s standing so near that he can just slip his hand back into his pocket with it. The next time she moves far enough away, the whole thing will come undone. He wonders if he’ll come undone first.

Tony knows he’s been horny too long without relief when he gets impish like this, but that’s the thing. Leigh knows that about him too, by now. She seems to be counting on it, which makes him want her even more. They’re recursive, and he loves it.

Leigh sweeps his collar up, pulling off his tie and dropping it on the floor. Then she starts working on his buttons.

“This does not involve enough kissing,” Tony observes.

Leigh is a little minx. Her response is to kiss the space on his chest that is revealed with each subsequent unbuttoned section of shirt, instead of his lips. By the time she’s done, he has forgotten about trying to troll her with his hands in his pockets, and he’s reaching for her, sliding his hand into the glorious mass of her hair and pulling her close. The tie for her robe comes close to unraveling, but he’s past caring about that at the moment.

Tony nips at her, pressing his thumb against her full bottom lip and tracing it with his tongue, teasing her just as she’s teasing and denying him. The thing about Leigh is, though: she’s generous and giving, so when it becomes clear to her that he’s holding back as a result of her holding back while undressing him, she yields, pushing against him, tangling her tongue with his. Leigh burrows close, worming her hands underneath his suit coat and pushing it down his arms even though Tony’s hands are busy opening her up for his kisses.

“Cross-purposes, here,” he murmurs.

“Is it though?” she says, pulling back long enough to strip his arms of both coat sleeve and shirt sleeve. Leigh grabs both ends of the flimsy robe he’s still got draped like a scarf around his neck, and starts backing up. The movement slowly loosens the rest of the tie to her fluffy robe, and it gives up the ghost right as she reaches the edge of his bed and sits down.

“Leigh,” Tony groans. The picture she presents, mostly naked and looking up at him, her hands at his belt, is setting him on fire.

“But I’m not done,” she says innocently, working to loosen the belt, flicking it open and tugging his button out of its buttonhole. He can see her tight, pebbled nipples peeking against the fabric of the robe.

“Swap me?” he asks in a hushed voice. Tony’s tired as fuck, but if she doesn’t want to trade places, he’ll hold himself up with sheer force of will if he has to. He’s a moth to her flame, desperate to singe himself on her heat, heedless of the danger of being consumed.

“Okay,” she agrees easily. Tony helps her stand, if only because he gets the chance to shove her robe off of one shoulder so he can kiss it. Leigh draws down his zipper and pushes his slacks down, and he steps out of them. Tony slides off the boxers himself, sits so he doesn’t crassly kick them under the bed or something, but Leigh dips down to a half kneel at his feet and pulls them away from his feet.

She is always surprising him, Tony thinks, because that’s not something he would expect her to do, not in a moment like this, but it’s also economical, necessary, it brings her right where they both want her to be.

“I want to swap,” she says, and he’s momentarily confused until she takes off her robe and tosses it at the foot of the bed, pulling on the one around his neck.

“Fuck, okay,” he says. He had figured she’d hang the thing up in his closet and wear it another day, but no, she’s pulling it on but leaving it hanging open. Her curves are lush and inviting, warm and his, and he’s grateful, besotted, hungry.

“I want to try something,” Leigh whispers. She puts a hand on either of his knees and spreads them apart, settling her hair on her right shoulder and leaning up against his body, kissing him. Tony’s drugged by sensation; he can feel the strands of her hair dragging across his chest, can smell her arousal, taste her sweetness. Leigh moves her right hand from his knee right to his cock, gentle but firm, and he groans into the kiss. She tips her head to the side, tickling him with her hair as she strokes him.

“Look,” she whispers. Tony looks down and bucks his hips into her hand. He can read his name clearly on the same wrist she’s jacking him with, and her hair is framing the motion. It’s as sensual an image of how he feels about this particular woman as Tony could possibly imagine.

That’s when she slides down his body and takes him in her mouth for the first time.

“Leigh, fuck, yes, ahhhhh,” he groans out.

She pulls off and moves her hand on him. With her other hand, she drapes her hair on his left leg. “Pull it. Yank it, do whatever. I like that, especially now,” she tells him in a husky voice.

He’s literally speechless. All Tony can do is look down at Leigh and watch her swirl her tongue on the head of his cock before taking him in her mouth again, sucking on the way down. She’s systematically destroying him. He grabs the locks she’d offered, twining it around his wrist once, and, trusting her, Tony sinks his fingers into her hairline and holds on.

She moans against him. Tony gives up all sense of restraint and starts rocking his hips, knowing he’ll have to stop her soon. He’s never going to stop being amazed at their alchemy, the way that loving her has turned the rougher parts of him into gold, and likewise the fragile parts of her into steel. Leigh backs off when he thrusts up too deep just once, recovering quickly, kissing along his shaft as she clears her throat a few times. When she starts to take him in again, Tony pulls hard on her hair, and she chuckles against him, sucking just the tip before spelling out obscene messages with her tongue.

“Okay, I need--” Tony says, shaking his hands free of her hair and pulling at the fabric of her robe, trying to get her to climb up.

“Yes, okay, yes,” she soothes. Tony isn’t gentle as he hauls her up his body, spearing his tongue into her mouth, fighting her robe to get his hands on her body underneath it, desperate.

“You’re rewriting my DNA,” he accuses. “I was never this determined to mark someone as mine before.”

“I’ve never been so willing to be marked,” she admits, gasping and holding still. Tony’s sucking a kiss onto her shoulder, and he grazes his teeth along her skin there right as he finally gets his hand between her legs. She’s wet and warm, yes, but what he loves is how fucking responsive she is. Everywhere he touches her, she’s always gasping, arching, shaking, as if she’s physically incapable of hiding his effect on her.

Suddenly, he needs to know how that would translate to tasting her. Tony turns them, laying her on the bed and looking down to see Leigh splayed out for him. Her hair is everywhere, right hand stretched out to cling to the sheets in the way he fucking loves, like she can’t not grip something when she’s in the throes of desire for him. The robe is gapping like the best wrapping paper ever, and best of all, when Tony starts to run a hand from her stomach down, she closes her eyes and arches her hips toward him.

Tony decides he likes the implications of her not being able to see him right now. He reaches up and rests her left forearm over her eyes, kissing it and kissing her lips, pressing, making known what he wants without words.

Leigh nods, her chest heaving in anticipation. Tony can’t resist kissing one of her nipples on his way back down, but he avoids using his tongue, because she’s perceptive, and she’ll guess.

“I want to watch the way your hips move,” he tells her, hands warm on her thighs. “You’re so beautiful.”

“I feel like a complete wreck, and I’ll turn into a hellcat if you don’t touch me,” she promises, her voice sounding rough. Tony has to clamp down on his own desires for a quick minute at the thought that maybe her throat is just the tiniest bit sore from his presence there.

He’s got both his hands on her legs, spreading them apart before resting his palm on her stomach. Leigh whines and juts her hips up.

“Please,” she begs. “Missed you.”

Tony had wanted to surprise her with his mouth but his hands have a life of their own, seeking out her folds like she’s her own force of gravity. He strokes her, kissing her knee, kissing her thigh.

“Tony…” her tone is whining, uncertain.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asks, his lips a hair’s breadth away from the thin skin right beside the mass of honey gold pubic hair.

“I’ve just never--”

Objectively Tony knows he should not find it so arousing that he’ll be the first to do this. She has every right to share her body with whomever she chooses, and if none of her previous relationships were with men who had any idea what they were doing, that’s not his business. But he likes this chance to show her what she’s been missing.

“Allow me to catch you up on all the years of severe neglect you’ve been experiencing,” Tony says in a low, sardonic tone. Her thighs clench together, shoulders shrugging up, her whole body responding just to his voice. Fuck, this is going to be amazing, he thinks to himself. “You trust me?” he says, selfishly wanting to hear her voice, excited about how throaty and desperate he’s sure it’ll be.

He’d somehow forgotten what she’s actually like in those three days he’s been gone.

“Give me my phone, I’m calling backup, you’re clearly only here to tease me,” Leigh says, rolling over and nearly kneeing him in the face in the process. She crawls up the bed, her hand reaching out for her cell phone on the nightstand.

Tony grabs her ankle and yanks, shifting his body up onto the bed as he locks that leg over his shoulder. He reaches up and flattens her onto her back with one well placed hand, gentling the movement once she’s in position. With his thumbs millimeters away from her sex, Tony uses both hands to spread her legs, holding her open for him in the process.

Her whole body is trembling now. When he looks up, she’s got the fleshy part of her palm between her teeth, moaning softly around it.

Tony bends his first finger and draws his knuckle up, along her wetness. She groans. He follows the movement with his tongue, pressing his hand at her hips in anticipation of their movement. Tony’s always liked this taste, has done it enough to know that it subtly differs with different foods. He presses closer and swirls his tongue around her clit without actually touching it yet, loving the hitched, shocked noises Leigh’s making. The muscles of her thigh under his hand are rock solid, she’s so tense and focused on what he’s doing.

Leigh’s heel is digging into his upper back so hard he hopes he gets a bruise there. That’s much more intimate than a hickey.

She’s rocking her hips ever so slightly with every movement of his tongue, and Tony gives in to his desire to feel that from the inside. He slides two fingers inside her, groaning a hum with his lips against her clit as she clenches down hard on him.

“Honey,” he murmurs, lifting his head to look up at her. Her chin is up, head arched back, but as he watches, she looks at him, eyes heavy-lidded and dark. Tony grins, hoping she can see the slick of her on his lips. Sometimes she’s embarrassed by the intimacy of such things, and he wants to ruin that instinct with as much joy and openness as he can. He’s an asshole that way. This is one of those times. “You had something with honey, at dinner.” He twists his fingers in just the right way as he says it.

“Tony,” she gasps. “There’s no way you-- Oh my God,” she whimpers, reaching up and pulling one of the pillows onto her face and holding it there.

He notices, though, that she doesn’t close herself off from him as much as she might have. She trusts him. Tony can’t stop the way he rocks his own hips along the edge of the bed to ease some of his tension at the thought.

“I can,” he assures her. “Want to try?”

He angles his head down and takes an obscenely large swipe across her entire sex with his tongue. He lifts himself up as if coming to kiss her, and now she curls her body up defensively.

“Maybe? No. Oh my GOD, I’m a fallen woman, what the actual fuck are you even doing to me right now,” Leigh groans into the pillow.

“It’s my personal mission to debauch you,” he says. “But not to make you uncomfortable.”

Leigh drops the pillow and looks at him with doubt painted across her features.

“Much,” he allows. His hand drifts back down to stroke her again.

“Yesssss Right there-- Tony,” she groans.

“Going to come for me?” he asks, sliding up to lay beside her on his side, hand still moving just the way she likes.

“Mmmm hmmm,” she draws out.

He slides his head closer so he can whisper in her ear. “Speaking of debauching you, I pictured myself doing this on the airplane. Except we were on a commercial flight, and you’d lost a bet with me.”

“Not realistic,” she says, eyes still pinched closed, hips rocking against his hand. He loves her focus, especially because it comes and goes in stages. Soon comes the stage where she’s delirious and gasping.

“The flight, or the bet?”

Leigh chuckles lowly. Tony speeds his movement, and she laughs again.

“Who is manipulating whom, here?” he whispers.

“Toss-up,” she manages through bitten lips. “Almossssst--”

“On the plane, I brought you right up to the edge,” Tony murmurs.

Leigh moans, and he sits up so he can use a second hand.

“Fuck, ok yes, that, whatever you want, just keep-- ahhhhhh!”

“Then I told you to come for me. Loudly. And you did.” Tony says, pushing some command into his voice. “Do it. For me, come for me, right now.”

She does, her whole body freezing in an arched posture one second and then releasing in a shudder of clenched gasps and moans the next. It goes on for longer than any she’s had with him yet, and he pulls his hands away to climb on top of her and thrust in, chasing the last of her clenching convulsions.

“Ohhhhh,” she breathes, sliding her legs up to bracket him.

“Too much?” Tony asks, hoping like hell she won’t say yes.

“Always,” she says, twining her arms around his neck so she can kiss him. Her every action spells out that ‘always’ is an answer that doesn’t mean he has to stop. “That shouldn’t work, you know,” she says when he moves from kissing her lips to kissing along her jaw and onto her neck.

“Mmm?”

“Ordering me to come,” she whispers in his ear, like it’s too shameful to say out loud in a room full of the sounds of their bodies moving together. Tony loves her contradictions, sometimes.

He hopes she loves his eccentricities, too, because he can’t help but goad her. “Wait till I can get you to do it over the phone, the next time I have to go on another trip.”

“I won’t have to wait,” she murmurs, altering the angle of her hips so she can press on his ass with her heels. “I could just call you during a meeting. You wear those in-ear things to get insider information from FRIDAY during those, don’t you?”

Tony quickens his pace, needing to feel her shake underneath him again. It’s like a craving, he’s noticed, and satisfying it is fun as hell.

“You’re suggesting you’d call me and talk me up in the middle of a meeting? I’m dubious,” Tony goads her.

She slides a hand down his stomach to where they’re joined. Tony can tell the instant she touches herself in the way that she likes, because she clenches down on him in pleasure. “Do you know where my hand is, Mr. Stark?” she whispers in his ear.

The speed at which his orgasm is approaching has just hit Mach 3.

“Look at me,” he commands, pressing his forehead to hers.

She does, but then she says something unexpected.

“Come for me. Right now. Do it,” she says, undulating her body under his, squeezing, holding eye contact.

His orgasm slams into him from all sides, it seems, flooding him with pleasure as he slams his hips into hers and holds there, groaning. Tony can’t keep her gaze, he buries his head onto the bed beside her shoulder, breathing in the sweet, spicy scent of her hair. This is what he’s always wanted, he realizes, groaning, delighted, wrecked, pleased.

“Fuck,” he remarks, a full minute later when he’s able to form words again. “Call it a truce?”

“I think we both won,” Leigh says, snuggling into his side. “Knowing you well enough to be able to sense when you’re about to-- well. That’s its own kind of victory.” She ducks her head against his chest, as if hiding her blush. “That’s a really powerful kind of intimacy.”

“The best kind,” he says. “There are more of those,” he whispers into her hair.

“More of what?” Leigh tips her head back to meet his eyes.

“Intimate ways of knowing.”

“You mean how I know you’re about to make a comparison between what I said and some ridiculous made-up thing, like when I’ll learn to have a cheeseburger ready for you the second you are done working in the lab for an indeterminate amount of time?” she asks, giving him a penetrating look.

He was about to say something exactly like that, so he twists his lips petulantly. “Yes.”

“Don’t worry. Someday soon you’ll know when I hold those back, and you can feel loved by that experience, too.”

He already does.

Leigh and Tony's story is told in the story Exile All the Longer, coming someday to Tumblr but for now is on AO3.

#tony stark imagine #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark x oc #tony stark x smut #tony stark original character #iron man fanfiction #iron man #iron man x oc #iron man x original character #iron man smut #mcu #mcu fanfiction #mcu fanfic #marvel #marvel fanfic #tony stark #fyeahsuperverseocs #ocfairygodmother

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gallavichthings · 2 years

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Writer’s Spotlight - Mhunter10

Be honest, y’all thought I had abandoned this series, didn’t you? But I hadn’t! In fact, this interview was done a long time ago, but posting was delayed for several reasons. It’s finally here though, and I’m very excited for you to read this one, because the writer we’re spotlighting today is a fandom veteran and one of our most prolific writers. Enter: Malenah, aka @mhunter10!

GT: Ok, first of all, I've got to say, I'm so happy you agreed to talk to me! I missed you! How have you been?

M: Been up and down and dealing with some stuff, but I think I'm okay. I definitely miss writing.

GT: And we miss your writing. Is that why you stopped for a while, life just got in the way?

M: Yes, but also the fandom and show wasn't fun anymore. Tumblr policies got annoying and people weren't finding my stuff....people actively stealing my work and reposting without asking.

GT: Oh, that sucks. 😔 When did you join the fandom? And what made you want to? What was it about Shameless (or Gallavich) that captivated you?

M: Oof maybe 2013ish? 2015ish? Whenever Shameless first season was on. I actually didn't even have Showtime, I would literally sit on Tumblr and wait for someone to recap the episode or link a bootleg clip. I've always been into good queer stories as a queer, and Cam and Noel's dynamic was interesting and the sort of cute that makes you squeal like a little girl.

GT: They've always had a lot of chemistry. Did you start writing fics right away? What made you want to start?

M: I was actually writing for another fandom/couple for a while way before Shameless. For Gallavich I was mainly just making headcanons that sometimes turned into drabbles. Eventually I wrote longer fics and started posting to AO3. I'd respond to someone else's headcanon or idea with a short fic.

GT: A lot of people still do that nowadays. That was one of my favorite things about your fics, actually, the fact that most of them were short and I could get my quick Gallavich fix without compromising my lack of a long attention span. 😅

M: Haha I was the queen of the drabble.

GT: What fandom were you writing for before, if you don't mind me asking? Was it the first you wrote fics for?

M: A soap opera called As the World Turns😅. I was writing fic when it was still airing new episodes in the middle of the day on CBS. I wrote for Luke and Noah and the fics are archived somewhere on the internet forever.

GT: Was it also the first fandom you read fics for?

M: I think so? Lol that sounds right. I also wrote some fics for Eyewitness, the US version.

GT: Let me backtrack, because we went straight into your experience with fandom, but I want to also know a bit about you. Please tell us a bit about yourself.

M: Oh Haha well I'm 30. Black, bi, live in Maryland. Have a bachelor's and currently getting my master's. Write, paint, sculpt, collect, read, work… mostly work. Work work work. Fall is my favorite season. Libra. Currently have 8 tattoos. Live with my partner, 3 years together. Umm...I've got arthritis and hip dysplasia so lol....anyone wanting to murder me now has everything they need to know and opportunity.

GT: Hahahaha That was very in-depth, indeed! What's your masters about?

M: Organizational Sciences.

GT: I don't know what that is, but it feels like something I should study. 😅 What is it? And do you already work in that field or are branching out?

M: It's akin to industrial psychology...basically, how workplaces work and how to improve the work environment. Definitely has a lot of intangible skills everyone should have an understanding of if you work. It's very meta sometimes lol. Leadership, communications, change management, negotiation, etc.

GT: Oh, that's interesting! You mention you also paint and sculpt? Talk about a well-rounded artist! What got you into those?

M: I've just always been artsy fartsy crafty.....schmafty. Fun fact: walked out of my pottery class first day cuz the professor rubbed me the wrong way....took ballet instead. I'm mostly a painter but I have a lot of little things I've made out of clay just for fun.

GT: Like what?

M: Mostly small food 😆. I paint whatever. I was an instructor for about 2 years.

GT: If you feel comfortable, could you maybe share a pic or two?

GT: They're all beautiful, but the one with the blue-haired woman is GORGEOUS! 😍

GT: Let's talk about Shameless. Do you have a favorite season and/or episode?

M: Yikes, I honestly don't remember much but definitely before the whole show went off the rails. I think 1-4 are standouts, maybe 5 or 6. I only really stayed for Gallavich.

GT: I feel you, I actually stopped watching after S5.

M: Trevor was the worst.

GT: Why do you say that?

M: Not the actor ,obviously, but the whole storyline was not done right at all, imo. The whole jesus stuff was stupid. Frank continuing to live was stupid. All the stupid and inconsistent decisions compounded into me not giving a shit anymore.

GT: Did you actually watch all the seasons? Because I myself skipped S6 to S9. What did you think of the ending?

M: The ending I saw was the wedding stuff, but I haven't watched anything after.

GT: Do you intend to or will you just consider the wedding the end and that's it? Either way, what did you think of the wedding? Or the fact that there was one. The early-seasons fan in me was in shock it even happened. Once Mickey came back for 9x06, I figured that was as good as it was going to ever get.

M: I knew they would do it. They baited us, kept us on the hook and reeled us back in with the Gallavich crap. I thought the wedding was fine, didn't understand half the people there. Oh wait I also watched some of the stuff with them in the apartment and trying to adjust to that which was actually pretty interesting. I didn't really keep up after that, just saw some gifs here and there. I think they had sex in an ambulance with a dead person? I don't really understand why they have to keep doing illegal stuff. I refuse to believe Fiona would not even show up or call or check in, but I understand why Emmy wanted to cut full ties with the show

GT: I agree, I never understood why not have Fiona keep in touch, or just have one of them mentioned she called. But it's the same thing they did with Mickey at the end of season 5. Instead of cutting Noel from the show, but still having Mickey be somewhat present through mentions, they decided he'd be arrested AND Ian would break up with him. And then they mentioned things about him that weren't true. That made no sense at all. How would you have written their ending if you got to choose?

M: I've written their ending lol; just a short fic reimagining the day after the wedding. I liked the apartment stuff. I would've written them trying to find Mandy eventually leaving the show due to a positive sign she wanted to reconnect. They need to leave the Southside. But during their search, Mickey goes to school. Maybe some shenanigans ensue, but ultimately he does well enough to graduate. I'd see Ian writing a book.

GT: Ian writing a book? That's something I never thought of. A biography or fiction?

M: Maybe a memoir.

GT: What about other moments of the show? If you could change one thing the show did with them, what would it be?

M: Everything. Anything I ever had an issue with, I usually turned into some sort of fic in retaliation. I did a fic rewriting their meeting at the docks, and also one where Ian finds Mickey in Mexico. I did one of when Ian came home from the hospital and Mickey is taking care of him, but ends up helping Fiona with some chores.

GT: Ok, but if you could only choose one? Sophie's choice, I know. Well, reverse Sophie's choice. 😅

M: Idk I'd redo all the stuff with Yevgeny and not make Mickey forget all about him.

GT: Great point. Just one more thing that doesn't make sense in this show. Ok, now let's talk fanfiction. What kind of fics do you write the most? I mean, I know you're the drabble queen, but what else?

M: My fics range from absolute crack fucking with the readers, to gut wrenching, to smut, to whatever passion project I think 2 people will read. I've written some lengthy stuff. Two wips I'm ashamed to admit I forgot where I was going with them as the reason I haven't updated them are White Coats and, by far my most popular fic, The Sugar Daddy. I also have several series going with trans Mickey, fratboy Mickey, geek Mickey, etc.

GT: I can relate, I also have a WIP I don't know how to continue. I have the plot planned, but... I don't quite know how to get there. Do you have a personal favorite among your fics, one that you were especially proud to write?

M: Definitely The Sugar Daddy, but they're all my babies to some extent, even the less popular and early ones. I liked writing pregnant Mickey. And I like some of my fantasy spins, like Mickey meeting Santa lol, and Ian in Oz.

GT: If you had to rewrite a fic you wrote, which one would you choose and how would you change it?

M: I have over 400 fics so I know I myself am forgetting a lot of them lol.

GT: I have way less and I forget mine too, so I can only imagine. 😁

M: When I come across an oldy it's always fun to read it with fresh eyes haha. I don't think I would rewrite any.

GT: No regrets, huh?

M: Pretty much.

GT: Fair enough. Now, you said it yourself, you have A LOT of fics out there. Where do you get your ideas from?

M: I tend to write in a zone so whatever I put out there is what I wanted out there in the moment. I have an idea and just go with it and see how it comes together

GT: You said you write in a zone. How do you get in that zone? (asking for a friend)

M: I've had somewhere I just could not figure out how to get it out of my head in a way that makes sense so those just never see the light of day or they find their way magically into something else. It's probably an undiagnosed adhd thing but I hit a groove and can keep going as long as I'm excited. That excitement is generated by how much I think what I've written is going to make people shit their pants. I have a fic titled Ian Snaps Mickey's Neck.

GT: Lol that sounds like a good motivator. So I'm assuming you don't plan your fics much?

M: Not like pages and pages of details before I even begin, but I know major points and how I want to lead up to some of them. That's not to say I'm not just winging it most of the time. Sometimes I'll come up with something better or different based on reactions if it's a multichap. Prompts are a little tricky sometimes cuz the person is expecting the thing so you need to do the thing.

GT: What about research? Do you do any before or during writing?

M: A little if I want to make sure I'm saying something correctly, either words or phrases. Places sometimes, or if I want to actually describe something specific. For example, in the Sugar Daddy I have a few links to items Ian gets Mickey just to add to the visuals but I'm not expecting everyone reading to care enough about the minutiae of how much it costs to take a bus in Chicago. I stick with what's relevant and if I think people will get the point without me turning in a research paper.

GT: Do you have a preference for writing from Ian's or Mickey's pov?

M: No preference just whatever the story calls for [whose pov do I write more, it's definitely Mickey].

GT: Do you write other characters aside from Ian and Mickey?

M: I've written a couple fics that include other Shameless characters and definitely some original characters.

GT: Which Shameless characters do you write more often? Do you write fics just about them or only include them in your Gallavich fics?

M: Ian and Mickey for sure, others as needed for the story but I know I've done a fic from Debbie's perspective a long time ago? Or Carl....

GT: You mentioned you sometimes include OCs. How do you create them? Do you base them on real people?

M: No, definitely not. I mean, if there is any originality in an original character anymore ie. typical archetypes. I at least try to make them their own character and not just an npc.

GT: You write a good deal of mpreg, a trope that a lot of people don't like. What attracts you to it?

M: Hahaha a good deal? I wrote 2 at the most. To me it's just another way of writing something. I've read some weird shit that I definitely would never write myself.

GT: Really? It was more in my mind. 😅 What are some tropes you enjoy writing?

M: I like writing scenarios that actually happen to me sometimes. Makes things feel more real. I guess I subscribe to the usual angsty stuff. But I genuinely like writing fun and sweet, sexy and loving, intimate.

GT: Is there anything you think you could never write?

M: Incest, child stuff, dom/sub, animals.

GT: Do your preferences apply when reading as well? What kind of things do you enjoy reading about?

M: Haha I've stumbled into some fics where I'm not sure if the subject or the writing turned me off more.

GT: Like what? What makes you quickly hit the back button?

M: If it's great writing, I might skip around some bits. Otherwise yeah, I'm not reading anything that I'd have to announce to a room at gunpoint. But that's for my own peace, some things just should not be written.

GT: One more thing, out of curiosity: where does your url come from? I get the M from your name, but why hunter10?

M: It's my last name and birth month and username for everything because I'm a basic and terrible person 😆.

GT: What are you currently reading?

M: The one where Ian is the reading tutor and has a cat, Paragraphs by @palepinkgoat. I also like their other stuff and am always extremely jealous, feel free to mention that haha. Jealous and supportive, but still… lol. And I really do want to finish The Sugar Daddy but for now I'm going to get back into writing slowly with updating some of my series. Before that I was reading Deaf Group by @thevioletjones, another fav. Unfortunately a lot of my list is orphaned, deleted or no updates since 2015.

GT: Yeah, a lot of people left the fandom around the time, which is sad, but understandable. I understand orphaning your fics, and of course shit happens, so abandoned WIPs are normal, but I don't get the reasoning behind just deleting something you created, unless you later realized it was in poor taste. But well, to each their own. Ok, so I was going to ask you about your plans for more, but you've already said you want to finish The Sugar Daddy. Any other plans?

M: No other plans really. I always think I'm going to write this idea I've had but I'm not skilled enough to do it

GT: And finally, leave a message for those reading this interview, please.

M: Ehh....hi,this is Malenah and you're watching Disney channel.

Idk. Be careful, be safe, be aware of your surroundings. I love you.

Drink some water and keep going.

#gallavich #ian x mickey #shameless us #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #writer's spotlight #mhunter10 #mod post #gallavich fanfiction

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