#I really want Ian back on Face Off

[morgluvsconnie]

BOUND, c.springer

Chap.1 | tattooartist!connie , short preface! , mild language .

stumbling over your own feet,

you slung the tattoo parlor door open, the bells making loud jingling sounds. you sighed loudly, snatching your heels off and tossing them too the side.

“gesh thishit ahf.” you pointed at your upper forearm with a frown. you couldn’t even see straight, your vision doubling everything in front of you. when it finally cleared, you weren’t surprised to see a tattooed guy with a fluffy buzz cut in front of you, just taking his gloves off.

“huh?”

“you… heard me. i said-”

“is you good?” he squinted and looked you up and down. you didn’t know you were drunk. well, not that drunk. all you knew is that you wanted to get that dumb name removed off of your forearm before you cut it off yourself.

“i don’t wanthis uh… awn meee…” you pointed at your arm.

the guy glanced around the parlor, him being the only one there, and about to close, he didn’t even really know what to do.

“ion do late night walk-ins. my bad ma, you can come back tomorrow.” he shook his head, spinning back around in his chair and taking off his gloves. “and you drunk. ion want you to do nothing you might regret later.”

“i’m not…” you hiccuped. “…drunk. i’m just t-tipsy.”

he just stayed turned around, not even bothering to pay mind to whatever you were talking about.

you stood there with your sleeve up, staring holes into the back of his head. which he felt. he glanced back at you, getting a nice look at your face.

shaking his head and turning back around, leaning back. “ight, wassup? you look bummed, like you been cryin. what else? yo heels…” connie glanced past you, “they on my floor.”

you groaned and got on the tattoo chair. “i just want…” you tried your bed to speak right. “to get this removed.” you stretched your arm out to him. he frowned and scratched his head. “you was dumb enough to come into a tattoo shop, a small one, to think i could remove this? then before that, you was dumb enough to get a dudes name tattooed on you?” he raised an eyebrow.

“it’s a tattoo place, isn’t that… what you supposed to do?” you slightly tilted your head at the guy who just stared at you. “ight, look. I’ll give you this card, and you can come back tomorrow, ‘cus for some reason you came in past closing time. you just call me whenever you wanna make an appointment, since you obviously never been here before.” connie turned, trying to look for something on his table. when he found the card, he tossed it to you and stood up. “you can gone head go.” he waved you off, taking off his black apron, which he was supposed to do a long time ago.

“please, ion want this on my arm. especially for my birthday.” you furrowed your eyebrows and looked at him. then the card. connie. connie stood there for a second, seemingly thinking about what you’d just told him.

he groaned, throwing his head back and rubbing his hands over his face. he looked back at you for a few seconds examining your face.

you were just too pretty.

“fuck. ight man.” he put the apron back on and grabbed black gloves. “what you want? please know what you want. ian sitting here all night.” he mumbled, getting his things ready.

“anything that covers that nigga dumbass name.” you sighed.

“so freestyle.”

“no ion want no tattoo that say freestyle- you know what…?” tipsy ole you. still not sober.

“i- okay. okay.” connie shook his head with a frown. “i know what i wanna do. you want me to draw this shit first so you can see or nah?”

you thought about it for a second.

“just… surprise me.”

connie stared at you for a few seconds.

“shit… i mean… ight.”

Chap.2

[meangirls-imagines]

Rest and Relaxation

"who's that?"

"that is the queen bee regina george. do not look her in the eye. she can smell fear."

cady rolled her eyes at damian giggling. in the small amount of time that she had known him, he had been very dramatic. janis also rolled her eyes. "she can't smell fear. but he is right, don't look her in the eyes." cady watched as the blonde girl walked up to her table holding cheese fries, sitting next to the girl that damian said "has hair full of secrets".

there was a thud as the trio turned spotting a girl struggling to carry her backpack, books, and lunch. the girl looked over at the trio, noticing janis and damian and shyly waved. they all waved back and watched as she stumbled past them.

"who's that?" damian shook his head. "that's y/n, regina's girlfriend." cady looked at the two shocked. she didn't think regina was gay. "really? she's so...shy." janis nodded as they watched y/n finally make it to the plastics table. regina's face lit up at the sight of her girlfriend. y/n smiled back and sat next to the blonde, unloading everything on the table. regina pulled y/n into a kiss, making the girl blush.

"hi baby. how is your day going?" y/n blushed deeper at the petname. "its going fine gina. i just have a lot of work to do." y/n was a nerd in the best sense. she had the highest gpa of the whole school, she was a mathlete, and she was in all advanced classes. she also had a really bad habit of overworking herself. regina hated watching her girlfriend burn out so she did her best to step in before it got bad.

"how about you come to my house with us after school? we can do a spa day for you. get you to relax a little. i know how stressed you've been." y/n's heart melted at her girlfriend's worry. as much as she wanted to do that, she had a mathletes meeting after school followed by sat prep until late at night.

y/n shook her head. "i wish i could gina, but i have mathletes until 4 and then sat prep until 8 and then i still have to finish my essay." regina sighed, scooting closer and scratching y/n's back to get her to relax a little. their moment was ruined when y/n's brother shane walked up to them. "ladies, nice to see you guys today. y/n, chris was wondering if you could possibly look over his history paper and see if its good enough for at least a b minus."

regina was about to speak up when y/n beat her to it. "yeah, just give it to me before i go to mathletes and tell him i'll have it back to him by tomorrow morning." shane smiled and ruffled his sister's hair, placing a brief kiss on her head. "thanks sis. i'll let him know." y/n smiled as her brother walked away. regina looked at her girlfriend worriedly. y/n shook her head. "it's fine gina. i'll be okay."

the bell rang, dismissing lunch as y/n stuffed all of her things in her backpack, kissing regina and heading off to her next class. gretchen watched regina deflate as y/n walked away. she put a hand on her shoulder and smiled at her. "she'll be fine regina." the blonde sighed. "i hope you're right."

y/n sighed as she opened her locker the next morning. she didn't get home until late last night and woke up earlier than usual to go with shane to football practice to give chris his essay and finish up any homework she missed the night before. she was exhausted and just wanted to go home. unfortunately for her, the world doesn't work like that and it was only going to get much worse.

for backstory, regina and y/n had been friends since 4th grade. regina had been very protective over the girl since they first met all those years ago. they met when regina stepped in and stopped a few boys from shoving y/n around. and since then, nothing had changed. regina was just as if not more protective over the girl. they had come out at the end of 8th grade which just boosted the protectiveness. ever since they came out as a couple, less people picked on y/n, though there were some who just didn't get the message.

enter ian. who had harbored a major crush on regina even after she came out. he was the stereotypical high school male. he was the captain of the basketball team, he was ripped, he was hot and every girl in north shore (except the plastics and y/n) wanted him. he felt like he was a better match for regina than y/n was and never failed to make his opinion shown every once in a while.

regina and the plastics hadn't made it to school yet and shane was in the locker room so this was his perfect opportunity. he and a couple of his friends walked up to y/n, who was reading over her ap chem homework and not paying attention. "hey there nerd. i see your guard dog isn't here." y/n rolled her eyes. "no ian, regina isn't here yet. can i help you with something?"

that was apparently the wrong thing to say as ian slapped the papers out of her hand and shoved her against a the locker next to her. at this point, people had started recording on their phones. y/n winced at the impact as the group of boys started laughing. "you don't get to have an attitude with me nerd. i think you forget where you fall on this food chain. allow me to remind you."

he brought his fist back to swing at y/n but the punch never came. the only thing y/n saw of her savior was pink nails before she was let go and ian was flying the other way. y/n looked up to see an angry regina flanked by an equally angry karen and gretchen. the two obviously weren't as close to y/n as regina was but they also had a protectiveness over her.

ian looked up scared as his friends fled the scene. karen and gretchen helped y/n pick her stuff up and dusted her off. ian shrunk in fear as regina towered over him. "i don't think you understand where you fall on this food chain, but allow me to remind YOU. you do not compare to y/n. she is so far above you that you don't even exist in her world. that being said, if i ever see you mess with her again, you will be finished."

he nodded and scrambled away. regina looked at the crowd that had formed. "anyone else have a problem with my girlfriend?" the crowd scattered as everyone went back to what they were doing. regina smirked victoriously before pulling y/n into an empty classroom, karen and gretchen standing guard outside.

regina looked over y/n for any injuries before y/n's grabbed her shaky hands and kissed both of them softly. "i'm okay, gina. just a little shaken up." regina let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding before pulling y/n into her arms. "i'm so sorry i wasn't there. i couldn't find my keys before we left so it put us behind-" y/n pressed her lips to regina's. the blonde instantly calmed as the two kissed, y/n being the first to pull away. "breathe babe. i'm okay. he's not going to mess with me again."

regina nodded and pulled y/n into another kiss, this one quicker than the last. "will you please come over after school today? i wanna take care of you. it's the weekend so you can stay the whole weekend while i help you relax. please." y/n nodded. "if it will make you feel better, yes." regina smiled and pecked y/n's lips. "good. i wasn't taking no for an answer. now, let me walk you to class?" y/n nodded and the two made their way out of the room.

regina stood against her jeep, waiting for y/n. karen and gretchen had hitched rides from shane so that way regina could take her girl straight home.the front doors to the school opened to reveal an exhausted looking y/n. regina's heart broke at the sight of the girl, she looked more exhausted than she did when the blonde saw her at lunch.

y/n shuffled to the jeep, regina grabbing her backpacks and throwing them in the backseat (carefully of course) before helping y/n into the passenger seat. regina walked around and got in, holding y/n's hand and kissing it. the girl sent her a sleepy smile and leaned her head against the window.

regina made it to her house in record time. she left the girl's bags in her car, making a mental note to ask her dad to grab them later. she helped y/n in the house and to her room, gently laying her on her huge bed. "stay right here baby. i'm gonna go run us a bath." y/n sleepily nodded, nuzzling into regina's pillow.

five minutes later, regina came out in a fluffy, pink robe, gently shaking y/n awake. "come on baby. let's get you in the bath." y/n stirred and nodded. the blonde helped her to her feet, gently pulling her into the bathroom. from there, she slowly took y/n's clothes off, head to toe. regina then got into the tub and guided y/n in, holding her to her chest.

the couple stayed in the bath for about half an hour before regina decided to get them out. luckily, y/n had been over to the blonde's house enough that she had her own little section in regina's massive closet. regina grabbed a hoodie and a pink pair of boxers for y/n and a hoodie for herself before getting them both dressed and into the bed.

y/n sunk into the soft mattress as regina gently maneuvered her to lay her head on her chest. y/n kissed regina's jaw and nuzzled into her neck. regina began scratching her nails down y/n's back. "take a nap and then when you wake up, i'll make you some dinner, and then maybe followed by dessert and a massage?"

y/n nodded before fully drifting off.

a few hours later, y/n woke up to the smell of her favorite pasta. she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and stretched, getting out of bed and heading downstairs. she found regina cooking dinner with her "y/n❤️" playlist playing softly from her speaker. y/n smiled at how soft the queen bee looked before walking up and wrapping her arms around the blonde's waist.

regina smiled at the feel of her girlfriend snuggling into her back, turning the burner off and turning around. "hi baby. sleep good?" y/n nodded, pressing her lips to regina's. "what's for dinner?" regina smiled and pecked y/n's lips before explaining. "i made your favorite, cacio e pepe, some salad and garlic bread, and for dessert i made a lemon tiramisu. and after we are done eating, i am giving you a massage to get the stress of the week and especially today out of that sexy body of yours and we are going to cuddle up on my bed and watch some love is blind and you are going to sleep for more than five hours."

y/n smiled at her girlfriend, already feeling the stress of the week melt away. regina always took care of her when she needed it and she couldn't be more grateful to have her as her girlfriend. "god, i love you." regina blushed and kissed y/n's cheek. "i love you too. now, let's eat."

after they ate dinner and dessert, regina ordered y/n to take off her shirt and lay face down on the bed while she slipped in the bathroom. y/n did as told and winced a little before tossing the shirt off to the side and laying down. regina came out and lit a few candles before dropping the oil and bruise cream on the bed. she straddled y/n's lower back and gently ran her hands down the girl's back.

she leaned down and kissed y/n's shoulder gently. y/n sighed at the feel of the blonde's lips and whispered, "i love you gina." regina smiled, grabbing the bruise cream and started applying it to the newly forming bruises on y/n's back. "i love you too baby."

after a very, very, relaxing massage, y/n laid in between regina's legs as they watched "love is blind". regina had her fingers running through y/n's hair, scratching her scalp with her acrylics. y/n was drawing shapes on regina's stomach, the blonde girl shivering every once in a while. after a few episodes, regina asked y/n if she wanted anything to drink before realizing y/n was asleep. smiling, she carefully reached over to the nightstand to grab her phone, taking a picture of y/n.

she took to instagram to post the picture, smiling at the amount of cute comments their friends were leaving. she put her phone back and gently guided her and y/n into a more comfortable position. once comfy, she placed a gentle kiss on y/n's forehead, slowly drifting off.

[spyder-junkie]

EARTH-42 MILES MORALES X READER PART 2

part three ??

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

Honestly the death of his father traumatized Miles.

It taught him to hold on to the things he loves, things that make him happy, because nothing is forever.

And honestly he was looking for something to fill his father’s void, something to satisfy the itch being prowler couldn’t scratch.

So not even two days later, Miles shows up at you window.

He wanted to scope you out, see if you were something he’s like to spend his time on.

With any person hes ever thought of pursuing, the thought of having to tell them hes Prowler loomed over his shoulder.

But you already knew.

Hes dressed normally this time, and hes come at a reasonable hour.

You smile when you see him, opening the window immediately for him to crawl in.

“I aint’ catch you name.” is the first thing he says, dusting off his jeans.

“Y/n.” You reply, sitting down at your desk.

“What can I help you with, Miles?”

He pauses for a moment, almost forgetting what excuse he came up with.

“Check my wounds for me? You wrapped ‘em so well ian wanna unwrap em.” He says, face calm.

You look at him for a moment before shrugging.

“bien, siéntate.” You mumble, going to grab your first aid kit.

“You speak spanish?” Miles asks, sitting down on your bed and pulling his shirt from his body.

The big gash on his side is covered in bandages, blood stained.

“A little, I take a class at school.” You smile, bending down infront of him. He spreads his knees, letting you settle onto the ground infront of him.

He shuts his eyes tight as you unwrap the bandage.

“Thats a pretty chain.” You mumbled, using a cottonball to dab at the wound.

Miles’ hands come to to touch the chain hes wearing. It was one of the many things he half-hazardly bought with his work money.

“Where’d you get it? Ive been looking for something similar.” You ask.

“I honestly can’t remember.” He mumbles, from his tone you could only assume he was telling the truth.

“Thats okay, anyway Youre all good.” You say just finishing his bandages, standing up and putting your things away.

“Oh.” Miles mumbles, not realizing how little time that would take you.

“Anything else I can help you with, Prowler?” He shivers at the way the name rolls off your tongue.

“Guess not.” He says, standing up and walking towards the window. His hands are in his pockets.

He leaves, climbing back out your window and disappearing past the block.

After two days a package shows up at your door.

When you open it, you realize its a chain, identical to Miles’ and brand new.

You giggle a little while clasping it around your neck.

You dont see Miles again for two weeks.

“You know we can just schedule meet ups instead of you showing up to my window at night.” You say, watching as Miles in his normal clothes climbs out if the darkness and into your room.

He ignores your statement, taking his shoes and jacket off and sitting at your desk. He leans back, legs spread wide and eyes closed.

You shake you head, sitting down on your bed and facing him.

“Whats troubling you?” You ask.

“Nothing important.” He says quickly. He opens his eyes and looks at you.

“Youre wearing the chain.” He mumbles.

“Yeah.” You reach up and touch it. “It’s really nice, I thought you didn’t know where you got it from.”

Miles shrugs

“How much was it? I can pay you back-“

“Eres Bonita, you shouldnt have to pay for your own shit.” He cuts you off.

You pause.

“Thank you.” You smile, looking at his hard expression, he nods.

Its silent for a while, Miles just recollecting with his eyes closed.

“Youve been with the cops yet?” He asks calmly. The question startles you.

“…excuse me?”

“You got my name, you know my face, you could rat me out n’ get that reward money.” He says, opening his eyes to look at you.

“is that…what you want me to do..?” You ask, looking at him in confusion.

“Im asking why you haven’t already.” He stated.

“Oh. because I dont want to.”

Miles furrowed his eyebrows.

“I like you, Miles. Plus you helped me out when I needed you. What you do as the prowler doesn’t really concern me.” You say.

Miles stares at you a bit longer, gears turning in his head.

“You can believe me, Im not lying. Now its late, and I am kind of tired. Stay if you want, but my dad usually pops in at 7 to say hes leaving for work.” You say, moving the covers so you could properly get into bed.

You look over at Miles, whos still sitting quietly at you desk.

You lock eyes with him, holding out your hand.

He stares for a while longer, before slowly getting up and sitting on your bed.

He doesn’t get under the coveres, opting to sit with his back against the headboard. He lets you curl up besides him, laying your head in his lap.

His hand ghosts over your shoulder, rubbing soft circles with his thumb as your eyes close.

“Goodnight Miles.”

“…..goodnight y/n.”

When your father wakes you up the next morning as hes leaving, the bed is empty and Miles is gone.

You rub your eyes a little bit, looking to see if he left anything behind.

On your bedside table there was another note.

“ maybe we should schedule meet ups. xxx-xxx-xxxx -miles”

You smile to yourself, immediately putting his number in your phone.

tags:

@caffeine-mess @arachnenotes @erensbbg @nightshxdex @el-chiste @3alvatore @sh-tposter2021 @miatjie @agstuffsworld @ella34435 @iluvdi0r @pulling-out-my-eyes @vakiui @bigpepperpicker @swaggybae @tsukisaiki @osebb

[superectojazzmage]

Just back from Alien Romulus and hoooo boy oh boy. Review/analysis.

Easily the best Alien movie since the first two, which isn't saying much, yeah, but it is legit a really cool and well-made movie, competing with Late Night With The Devil, Longlegs, and Cuckoo for title of my favorite horror movie this year.

In a lot of ways it's about harvesting the few good ideas from the post-2 movies that were squandered and doing them right, plus getting the series back to it's healthier roots, kinda the movie equivalent of someone doing physical therapy to get back in the saddle after an injury. This means it's not quite brand new ground like some may hope for and I've heard some people feel it gets a little derivative at points because of it. I can kinda agree and certainly understand that criticism, but I feel it does what it's aiming for really well and sets things up for future works to go in even crazier directions. Furthermore, it takes a lot of time to try and weld together the disparate post-2 movies in a way that brings the series back to a little coherency.

The atmosphere is really intense and cool, swinging between lovecraftian dread and build-up and high-energy chaos. The aesthetics and special effects are gorgeous, taking full advantage of the progress that technology has made since 2 plus really digging in to the used cassette future vibe of the older films. The characters are likable and actually intelligent (or at least understandable) in behavior like in the first two movies, so you care about what's happening to them instead of just waiting for them to get munched. The action and kills were really cool and creative, the cinematography in general was off-kilter in an awesome way - there's a definite attempt to make the movie feel claustrophobic and intimate. Fede Alvarez did a fantastic job in general, I'd love to see him do more with the series.

It REALLY cranks up the series' psychosexual, freudian, and sexual assault subtext, arguably to a point where it's just plain text. So if you're sensitive to stuff like that or if this is your first go at Alien, be warned for that.

More specific notes go under the header for spoilers. Highly recommend you go in as blind as you can.

Andy and Rain were wonderful leads, their dynamic was fantastic and Calie Spaeny and David Jonsson both turned in great performances. I direly hope they join the first two films' casts as "major" characters for the series going forward.

The effects to make Daniel Betts look like Ian Holms were quite possibly the one and only time the special effects failed. It looks very wonky, which is sad because Betts does a really good job copying Holms' mannerisms for Ash while still making Rook feel like a distinct character.

In addition to the usual themes of sexual unease, genetics, and parenthood, this movie adds in some really interesting themes of familial legacy, the rise of new generations, foundations, etc.. Andy and Rain are like Romulus and Remus of myth, orphaned and left to fend for themselves but growing into founders of a new age - both in-story with their carrying the XX121 substance and evidence of Weyland-Yutani's misdeeds to Yvaga and out-of-story with them being the protagonists of a new era for Alien. Likewise, the Offspring is the first example of an entirely new species, neither human nor alien but taking from the lineages of both through Kay and Big Chap, a Romulus-like founder of it's breed that will later bear fruit in Resurrection with the Ripley clone and Newborn.

I'm really not kidding when I say above that the psychosexual undercurrents are taken to the extreme here. This movie basically sees the ways the original film subtly pin-pricked at those themes, says "fuck that", and deliberately rubs it in your face in a way designed to make sure you can't ignore it. It wants you to be grossed out and to squirm in your chair and it knows exactly how to make it happen.

Alvarez noted in the lead-up to release that he took a lot of influence from Isolation and you can definitely see that in how he depicts the Xenomorphs and the general aura of the film. He further described it as a kind of halfway point between the first and second movies and you can also see that; it has the Lovecraft-style tension and horror of the first, balanced with the energy and action of the second, and it does a really good job finding a middle ground between Ridley Scott and James Cameron's styles while also doing it's own dance.

I mentioned way back at the start how the movie basically harvests the good ideas from 3, Resurrection, Prometheus, and Covenant and gives them the room they deserve while dumping the bad. It does that in both terms of themes/style and continuity/lore. Concepts that those movies bungled like xeno-human hybridism, the black goo, genetic engineering as a focus, and so on are done here more creatively and competently. Themes that those films tried and failed to tackle are handled with significantly more grace. It has the atmosphere and characterization of 3 but none of it's baggage and needlessly depressive tone. It has the body horror and weirdness of Resurrection without taking it to the zany, embarrassing areas that movie went. The effects and creativity of Prometheus and Covenant without any of their awful writing and clumsy messages. Alvarez takes on kind of an Al Ewing-esque "repairman" writing style here.

The Xenomorphs are absolutely deranged in behavior compared to most portrayals, attacking like either cruel sadists or raging chimps and rarely bothering to take hosts. I'm not sure if such a reading was intended, but I got the vibe that the idea is Xenos raised without a queen or hive grow to be basically sociopathic like how real world predatory animals grown without parental figures become feral and dysfunctional. Which would also explain a lot about how the Xeno in the original movie, Big Chap, acts there.

The Offspring's design is fucking wicked and I love it.

One of my few major criticisms is that Big Chap died off-screen instead of getting more to do. What was the point of having him be alive at the start if he wasn't gonna be used beyond a backstory point to set up the main story?

All in all, a very impressive effort and a great return to form for the series that I recommend highly.

[whatthebodygraspsnot]

(separation anxiety)

when ian gets home from his trip with lip, he expects mickey to be all up in his business because it's mickey and it's them and it's true, after a lifetime of fighting for it, when they're not glued at the hip, shit just feels off.

so he expects mickey to b-line it to the front door when he finally steps in. he expects the way he helps himself into ian's space, his hug literally and beautifully immediate. and he expects it to linger - wants it to, frankly. getting to hold his husband again after a week apart is damn near orgasmic. he's been counting down the hours for this very moment.

what he doesn't expect is for mickey to not let go.

it's not a bad thing. ian will gladly hug him until the earth stands still. it's just...

"hey..." he softly chuckles, rubbing mickey's back as he tries to duck his head to get a good look at him. beside them, his luggage lays as forgotten on the floor as when he ditched it on impact. which is good. he's sick of it. it's just... "missed ya..." he smiles, abandoning the impossible task of trying to loosen mickey enough to see his face, and committing instead to a full back rub. "damn baby, you been workin' out while i was gone...?"

because mickey is fucking squeezing. his man is taking this shit seriously, both arms snuck under ian's jacket and wrapped around him so snugly that there's nowhere else for his face to go than pressed firmly into ian's chest. "mm..."

it's not a bad thing. ian loves it. it's just... "wanna hear about whatchya got up to," he says, in hopes of coaxing them into a little movement. "gotta fill me in." as if they haven't been texting at every reasonable, waking hour in his absence. (and as if lip hasn't had something to say about it.)

mickey does this little hum of affirmation into ian's chest. which is...oh so cute. fuck, he really missed him. but they're still not moving. and...

"okay," he chuckles again, kindly and very very gently trying to take a step. and mickey lets him! he does. it's just...he comes with him. takes the step backward with him, still vacuum-sealed to his front. "mick..."

"what..."

"you okay?"

"fuckin' great," he states, and he absolutely means it. it's obvious. and ian's fucking great too, now that he's with him again, it's just...

"feel like i got a layer of airport grime on me," he admits, suddenly very conscious of the fact that he's still in his jacket and plane sweatpants. "gonna let me take a shower?"

"no."

"real quick."

"mm."

a grumble! face pressed possessively into him. staking claim again. "you can come with..." ian floats, his tone lifted high at the end in suggestion.

and...

"fine."

they make it into the shower. their beautiful, familiar shower with their beautiful, dogshit water pressure and ian kinda daydreamed their reunion fuck to be in bed, but he'll definitely accept some slippery, soapy sex.

they don't fuck. literally not an issue. romantic, nasty reunion sex in bed is still on the table because instead of pouncing on him like he thought he would, mickey actually lets ian shower. lets him get all the airport gunk off from his spot standing behind him, warming his back like a perfect little jetpack as ian tells him about his flight in.

it takes longer than necessary but it's not bed. ian loves it, actually. he'd almost feel bad about putting an end to it if he wasn't already coming to a couple conclusions. connecting some dots. about his husband.

because when they're all dried off and clean and comfortable, ian barely has to reach a hand out to him from his spot on the couch before mickey is dropping down into his lap and assuming position.

he wraps his arms around ian's middle, shoving them between his back and the couch. slots his thighs up nice and snug a little lower. buries his face in ian's neck, and he stays there. he commits, his body melting into ian's like it's supposed to be.

and in hindsight, ian feels like a fucking dumbass to not expect this. maybe it was the rush of the trip. the stress of traveling. it had him all one step removed from what was happening at home. but the signs were all there.

all of mickey's texts. 'when you in for the night?' and 'the fucks he got you doin' and 'yo big guy whats the plan for the day' and 'call me when youre back'.

how most nights when they would hang up their facetime call, ian would barely get his phone down before it was lighting up again, mickey on the end with some thinly veiled thing he forgot to tell him, just enough light from their nightstand lamp revealing which of ian's shirts he's wearing that day.

when it was happening, he just thought it was endearing. felt his own sentimentalities validated. but now...

ian wraps his arms around mickey, one hand smoothing up his spine before holding the back of his neck. holding him close. "love you, baby..."

in his lap, mickey makes no moves. but he doesn't need to. he's getting exactly what he needs. and ian wants to give it to him. "glad you're home..."

"yeah... me too..." he's felt that edge of discomfort. that panic. it's not fucking fun. and he's about to do whatever he needs to get his husband feeling right again. "kinda planned on taking you out tonight, but... how'dya feel if i just ordered something in for us...?"

not leave the house.

not leave this bubble.

stay velcroed onto each other, soothing over everything that needs to be soothed over. filling everything that's been emptied.

in his lap, mickey hums in thought. and this time, ian doesn't miss it. he sounds pleased as fuck. "pizza..."

there he is. "yeah?"

"yeah..." he murmurs against his neck. "fuckload of meat..."

and wow, it's got ian smiling. has his chest filling up with this warm, satisfied light. "sounds great, mick..." even as he slides his hands down to support him under his ass. "come get the menu with me, huh..?"

as if mickey has any plans to move from his spot until the pizza gets here. as if ian isn't prepared and eager to carry this man around baby koala style for the rest of the evening.

and as ian hauls his husband up and into the kitchen - as he casually sifts through the junk drawer with one hand, the other holding him up - he can feel it pressing into his neck.

mickey's smile.

it's good to be home.

[kwanisms]

Hello dear readers, it's September which means Kinktober is almost upon us. I have planned for the full 31 days this time, taking my old Kinktober from last year, reorganizing and reworking it to make something new! Details and taglist below the cut!

For this year, I will be writing for all of:

Seventeen

Stray Kids

Ateez

I will also be including the Choi Line of TXT as well as DPR Ian & Woosung of the Rose! The kink prompts, creature list (yes, she's also a Creature Feature!), and dialogue prompts (there are two extra and you'll learn why as you read further) for each day is listed below but the idol will be kept a secret until the day of! Don't worry, if you want to read for only one or two but do not want to be tagged in ALL of the Kinktober pieces, you can sign up for only the groups you want to read for. When filling out the taglist, you will be able to select who you want to be tagged in. Check out the prompts below and the taglist will be linked at the very bottom of the post!

Dialogue Prompts

"Don't cover your mouth. I want everyone to hear how good I make you feel."

"Sit on my face."

"Make me" + "God, you're so beautiful when you're fucked out under us."

"I haven't even touched you yet and you're already wet."

"Good boys get rewarded, so behave."

"Is that my shirt?"

"I'm not jealous. It's just that... you're mine."

"I love it when you cry." + "What do you mean you've never cum from sex?" + "Your panties are soaked already."

"Oh no. Not until you beg."

Try to stay quiet for me, kitten. Can you do that?"

"I'm waiting for your permission to let me have my way with you."

"I'm going to have you screaming by the end of the night."

"Lay back and touch yourself, I'm going to watch."

"Aw darling, I almost believe you."

Do you really think you're in a position to give orders?"

"I cannot possibly focus with your damn hand in my-"

"You look so good on your knees."

"I promise I'll be gentle."

"Baby, I asked you a question so if you know what's good for you, you'd better answer me."

"Yell at me again and I'll give you a reason to scream."

"Come here, I'll show you how to make yourself feel good."

"I'm bored, let's fuck."

"Have you never been touched like this before?"

"What? Does that feel good?"

"Baby... you need me that badly?"

Tell me you love me."

"We can't do that here! What if someone sees us?"

"You heard me. Take. It. Off. Now."

"Why are you shaking? You're not scared of me, are you?"

"Were not just friends and you fucking know it."

"Don't act so innocent, I heard you."

The taglist will most likely close at the end of this month, or it might extend into the first week of October. We'll see how it goes but for now, the taglist is open!

[natsukishinomiyaswife]

hi hi sheep!! congrats on 300 followers!! 🎉🎉💕

i’d like to try my luck on the gacha for clubwear jamil please!

Floyd Leech: Slam Dunk

Hello Ian! ☆

Thank you so much for pulling on the Gacha of Love ♡ I'm sorry to say that you lost the 50/50, but congrats on getting Club Wear Floyd! Here is your card, enjoy! ♡ (Thank you Ian!! ♡ Funnily enough it landed on Kalim, but he was already requested, so I spun the wheel again and it was Floyd lol ♡)

If you would like to pull on the Gacha of Love too, you can find the event here ♡

Note: For this fic, Floyd (along with Ace and Jamil) are professional basketball players, and the Reader works at a coffee shop they frequently go to (in disguise/with their identities hidden) ♡

There was a new billboard outside the coffee shop, across the street near the high way. It was advertising a new sports drink, the sign rotating between different athletes posing with it. When work was slow, you and your coworker would look out the window, curious to see who was next.

"Ah, look! It's him! That guy you like!" your coworker shouted, pointing towards the sign. The billboard showed a tall man with different colored eyes, smile full of sharp teeth as he held the drink near his mouth. He was dressed in a basketball uniform, wearing a sweatband on his head and wrists. His jersey number and name was written below his picture, along with the name of the sports drink.

#10, Floyd Leech - sponsored by Electric

For shockingly good energy!

Your face heats up at their words, staring at the billboard for a moment before nudging their side. They laugh at your reaction, heading back behind the counter when a customer enters. You glance out the window, looking at him one last time before shaking your head, getting back to work.

It all started a few months ago, back when your coworker won tickets to a game happening close by. You agreed to go with them after their friend cancelled at the last minute, feeling bad as they scrambled to find someone. You weren't really a big fan of sports, having only seen clips online. You didn't want to disappoint them though, saying yes when you would have preferred to stay home.

The stadium was packed as you found your seats, close to the court in the VIP section. There was one player in particular you couldn't take your eyes off of, mesmerized by his skill. He was wild, unpredictable, even to his teammates. Rushing off and doing his own thing.

Your eyes would meet throughout the game, a grin coming to his face as he stared back at you. He seemed to enjoy your attention, taking the game more seriously as he continued to act out. He would ignore his teammates, making hook shots and dunks as the other team tried to stop him. He would look towards you after every basket, curious to see your reaction.

His teammates finally put a stop to it, having him sit on the bench until he was willing to cooperate. He didn't seem to mind at first, spending his time looking over his shoulder, waving to where you sat behind him. Soon he grew restless, becoming frustrated as he longed to be back on the court.

"Who's that?" you ask your coworker, pointing to where he sat.

"Oh, number 10? That's Floyd Leech, the team's wild card. He's really good on the court, though how he plays depends on his mood." your coworker responded, looking towards Floyd before focusing back on the game. You did your best to concentrate on the game too, watching a player with ginger hair slip past his opponents as he made his way to the basket.

While his teammates were good, you weren't drawn to them like you were Floyd, the image of his grinning face flashing in your mind. Sooner than you thought the game was over, watching as they celebrated their victory. Floyd's mood had improved since he was able to go back on the court before the game ended, cheering along with his team.

Your eyes meet one last time, right as you went to leave. You were surprised when he called out to you, grin on his face as he waved you goodbye.

"See ya around, Nickname~ Next game's in 2 weeks, got it?" he says, continuing to wave as he walked away. You stood there shocked as your coworker shook your shoulder, practically vibrating with excitement at what happened.

From then on, you and coworker would find tickets to each game in your tip jar, leaving you in disbelief every time you found one. The tickets were always in the VIP section, and (depending on the location) included enough money for a nice hotel and plane tickets.

You didn't want the tickets to go to waste, making sure to attend each game, taking your coworker with you. With each game was more glances, eyes meeting with grins full of sharp teeth.

You're broken out of your thoughts as another customer enters the shop, getting your attention.

"Hey, Name!" a man says, holding his hand up in greeting. He's dressed in a hoodie and sweats, a mask over his face and hood covering his hair.

"Oh, Cherry! How are you? Haven't seen you in a while." you ask, moving to prepare his order. He was a regular at the shop, always getting a latte and a slice of cherry pie. You weren't sure what his name was, but he was always nice, and seemed to enjoy the silly nicknames you would give him.

"Oh, ya know. Been busy with work." he responds, waving to your coworker as they walk by.

"Do you wanna meet Name's boyfriend?" your coworker suddenly asks, giving you a teasing look as they point towards the window. You shake your head, doing your best to deny their words as he walked towards the glass.

"Boyfriend?" he questions, confused by what they meant. They walk over next to him, pointing towards the billboard as his eyes widen in realization.

"Ah, I see..." he says, amused. He appeared smug as he gave you a knowing look, making you wonder what kind of expression he had under his mask.

"Personally, I prefer Ace" he states, heading back to the counter to get his drink and pie. He nods his head goodbye as he leaves, never able to stay long. From what he's told you his job seems pretty demanding, always away on business trips.

It's not until later that you hear your coworker gasp, looking in your tip jar to find two more tickets. Along with the tickets is someone's number, written next to a drawing of an eel ♡

𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾! ♡

[dreamwritesimagines]

The Eye of the Hurricane [6] - Drinks

A.N: Here’s the new chapter my loves! ❤️ Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: Rumors can spread fast.

Word Count: 3500

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Violence, death, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, drinking. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

Well, that night's argument hadn't stayed private as you knew it would not, and it had a hilarious consequence.

Usually, the underworld kept its secrets. The family business, money, alliances, they were all kept from outsiders and everyone who was involved in it was advised the same thing; never ever say anything to anyone unless you want to get killed.

That rule however, did not exactly apply to romance or the rumors of it.

So in the following days, almost everyone who was in the business knew about your very loud rejection of Bucky's marriage proposal, and the mere mention of it was enough to shock everyone. Bucky was the golden heir turned boss, he was basically the prince of the city while you two were growing up, and you couldn't think of one occasion where he got rejected. As if trying to show everyone that he couldn't care less about that rejection, he had spent the rest of the week being seen with a different girl at the clubs and taking them home but it still did nothing to stop the chatter.

Which would have been quite entertaining for you, if your father hadn't also heard about it and asked you to visit him at the company.

You huffed out a breath as the elevator doors opened and you stepped out to the hallway before making your way down the hall. You could probably find your way in this skyscraper with your eyes closed, you had spent nearly your whole childhood playing here so you didn't even stop by the receptionist before approaching the glass door, seeing your father behind his desk, with Ian sitting on the couch. You heaved a sigh, then opened the door to step inside.

“Daddy?”

“Y/N sweetheart,” he said and got up to kiss your cheek. “Welcome.”

“Hi,” you said. “Ian.”

“Y/N.”

“Sit down, sit down!” your father said. “Are we keeping you from your plans?”

You shrugged your shoulders as you sat down on the armchair across from his desk.

“Not really,” you said. “Me and Becca and Sarah are all going to this new club tonight, but that's it.”

Ian hummed. “Which one?”

“You're not invited,” you said calmly and Ian shot you a glare, then held up his hands.

“Don't worry, some of us have actual jobs rather than having fun.”

“Enough you two,” your father said. “Y/N my dear, I won't keep you long. I just wanted to ask you about Bucky.”

Your head shot up and you leaned back, trying to keep your expression completely nonchalant.

“About Bucky?”

“Please, everyone is talking about it,” Ian said without lifting his glances off his phone as he typed a text. “Did he really propose?”

“Ian.”

“Uncle, a possible relationship between him and her is more than just romance, you know that.”

“She can hear you,” you said, glaring at him and Ian rolled his eyes.

“Y/N—”

“I said enough,” your father said. “Ian, leave the room.”

You tried to repress the smile on your face as Ian let out a breath, then pushed himself off of the couch to walk out of the office. You gave your father a bright smile but he only shot you a disapproving look.

“Must you two snark at each other all the time?” he asked. “We're family.”

“The fact that he's family is the only reason why I haven't shot him yet,” you deadpanned as your father motioned at his assistant for two coffees, and you crossed your legs.

“So?” he asked. “You and Bucky?”

“There's nothing going on between us.”

“But he proposed?”

You paused for a moment, then cleared your throat.

“Not exactly,” you said. “It was a hypothetical argument really. Bucky is convinced he's quite the catch, I was just bringing him down to the real world.”

“A hypothetical argument.” he repeated and you nodded.

“Mm hm.”

“And you want to keep it hypothetical?”

You raised your brows. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You two grew up together,” he said with a sigh. “I'll be honest, I'm nowhere near ready to see you get married, but Bucky knows the business, he's powerful enough to protect you—”

“I can protect myself daddy,” you cut him off. “You made sure of it.”

Your father ran a hand over his face and you tilted your head.

“You think it’s a good idea.”

He paused for a moment. “Well, it goes without saying that your opinion matters more here.”

“Well yes because thankfully we’re not in the 18th century anymore,” you commented. “But tell me anyway.”

“Hypothetically speaking, that kind of marriage would prove to be beneficial—”

“To all the psychiatrists in the city.”

“Y/N.”

“Sorry,” you said with a grin as the assistant brought your coffees and you thanked him. “Go on.”

“Would it be without issues?” your father asked. “Of course not.”

“Me making myself a widow could prove to be an issue yeah.”

“It would change the balance in the city, bringing the two families together…” your father trailed off. “Ian has his doubts about it but—”

“Ian doesn’t like it?” you asked with a huff of a laughter. “If you wanted to sell the idea to me, you should’ve led with that daddy.”

“But overall,” your father continued as if you didn’t cut him off again. “He agrees it could be good for the family and the business.”

You clicked your tongue, then reached out to grab your coffee cup.

“I’m not in the business,” you pointed out, bitterness seeping into your voice. “You made sure of that also.”

That made your father hesitate and he heaved a sigh.

“Y/N, sweetheart…”

“Is that all?” you forced yourself to ask and your father smiled slightly.

“Does he love you?” he asked back and you rolled your eyes.

“Not at all,” you said. “Which is a good thing if you ask me. I wouldn’t marry him if he was the last man on earth.”

Your father held up his hands, gesturing surrender.

“If you say so,” he said and you took another sip of your coffee, then put it on the small coffee table and stood up from your chair.

“I’ll see you later?”

“Mm hm,” he said, letting you kiss his cheek. “And Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Your bodyguards are coming with you to that club.”

You let out an annoyed groan. “Becca will have her bodyguards already—”

“No,” he said, pointing at you. “We talked about this before, and you have already beene attacked once.”

“The guy is dead though.”

“We still don’t know who he was working for,” your father said. “In any case, it’s not up for discussion.”

You huffed out.

“Fine, fine…” you murmured and walked out of the office to see Ian leaning against the wall, still busy with his phone.

“So?” he said. “Should I go pick a suit for the wedding?”

“Sorry to disappoint,” you said with a fake smile and he let out a dry laugh.

“You know,” he said. “If Barnes actually wants to marry you, he must be more stupid than I thought. Poor guy.”

You clicked your tongue.

“Ian I’d love to stay here and do this, but I actually have a life outside this building, friends who are not on my payroll and such, you know?” You pointed back at the office with your thumb. “But you can go back in now and pretend your opinions matter.”

With that, you walked away from him to the elevator, not even sparing him another glance.

                                                 *

 “The love of Becca’s life” as Becca called her turned out to be a nice girl named Leila whom you decided would be your friend after spending about five minutes with her. Ethan was running late -some last minute issue at the company- but he said he would be there in half an hour, so you figured you could start drinking with Becca and Leila beforehand.

“I mean listen, if you want it go for it but all my friends who got back together with their exes soon remembered why they broke up in the first place,” Leila said as you sucked on the straw of your cocktail, then shook your head.

“We barely count as exes, and it wasn’t a bad break up,” you said. “And it was back at college, everyone is an idiot in college times.”

“I know I was,” Becca said and Leila grinned.

“Me too,” she said as her phone beeped, and she checked it, then raised her brows and held up the phone at Becca.

“Aw, she’s not coming.”

You tilted your head. “Who?”

“My friend,” Leila said. “That’s a shame, she was very excited.”

“To come to the club?”

“That and to possibly see her brother,” Leila pointed at Becca with an apologetic smile and Becca made a face.

“Ew!”

“What’s going on?” you asked and Leila shrugged her shoulders.

“She and Becca’s brother had a thing like three years ago apparently?” she said. “I’d say small city but it’s not, it’s weird.”

“Kind of the same circle but not really,” Becca said and you scrunched up your nose.

“Ah.”

“I mean you should have heard the way she was talking about him,” Leila said with a laugh. “I’d tell you but Becca needs to cover her ears.”

“I do not want to be traumatized thank you,” Becca said. “I already go to therapy once a week—Sarah!”

Someone pressed a kiss on your cheek and you turned to smile brightly at Sarah, then hugged her sideways when she sat next to you.

“You’re here!”

“Only because I promised you,” she said. “I’ll have one drink and go home.”

“I still take that as a win—Sarah, this is Leila,” you introduced them. “Leila, this is Sarah, our best friend.”

“Whom we can barely see because she’s literally saving lives,” Becca said with a proud smile and Sarah waved a hand in the air.

“Don’t. It’s very nice to meet you,” she told Leila, then turned to me. “What is this I hear about Bucky proposing to you? Are you two actually getting married?”

Leila’s eyes widened.

“Oh shit,” she said. “I’m so sorry Y/N, if I knew about you and him, I wouldn’t bring up my friend and him having…a thing earlier.”

“What? No!” you said in a rush. “It’s totally fine.”

“Is it?”

“Your friend could be here and the only thing I’d ask her is if Bucky put a mirror between them in bed so that he could fulfill his lifelong dream of—”

“Y/N!”

“It’s a valid theory that I have, and I’m genuinely curious!” you defended yourself as Leila started laughing.

“Oh God…” she said. “I apologize either way.”

“You really shouldn’t—your friend slept with him, who hasn’t?” you asked while Sarah motioned for the waitress, then ordered her drink. “I mean not me I have principles, but you get what I mean.”

“But he asked you to marry him?” Leila asked and you shrugged your shoulders.

“Ours would be a unity of minds,” you said solemnly while Becca played with her hair.

“Unity of two braincells, more like it.”

“And we’re not together,” you added and Leila stole a glance at Becca as if she was confused, and Becca mouthed ‘later’ while you tilted your head at Sarah.

“Who did you hear it from by the way?”

“Sam told me,” she said as the waitress brought her a drink. “He’s also very entertained by that whole thing.”

“We all are,” Becca said and your phone vibrated in your hand, Ethan’s name flashing across the screen. You looked around, then stood up.

“I’ll be right back,” you said and made your way down the stairs, then passed the dance floor and stepped outside with your bodyguards following you.

“Y/N!” you heard Ethan’s voice and you turned your head, then smiled at him as the bouncer immediately stepped aside.

“Miss Y/N, he didn’t tell us he was your friend.”

“Oh no worries,” you said as Ethan approached you.

“Hey,” he said, kissing your cheek. “You look amazing.”

“Aw thank you, so do you!” you said, then grabbed his wrist to pull him along as you walked back into the club.

“They’re not letting anyone in,” Ethan told you, making you shoot him a small smile.

“Just give my name the next time and they’ll let you pass,” you told him and he let out a whistle.

“Just how far does your reach go?”

“Very far,” you said with a wink, then led him up the stairs before walking into the VIP room. You quickly introduced Ian to the girls, and took your seat, Ethan sitting right next to you.

“You were my doctor!” Ethan told Sarah. “The uh…the other night.”

“I was,” Sarah said. “Feeling better I hope?”

“Much better,” Ethan said and ordered a beer to the waitress by the door. “Thank you again by the way.”

“Not a problem,” Sarah said and Becca smiled at him.

“So Ethan,” she said. “I’ve heard so much about you. Y/N says you’re a data analyst?”

“I am,” Ethan nodded. “I just moved to the city, and Y/N has been nice enough to show me around.”

“Do you like it here so far?”

“People are exceptionally rude,” he answered with a grin. “My neighbor looked at me like I’d grown two heads when I greeted him the other day.”

“I don’t think I know any of my neighbors,” Leila mused and before you could comment on it, a familiar voice reached inside the room.

“No Sam but I’m just saying—” Bucky stopped by the entrance the moment he caught the sight of you and he raised his brows.

“Hey,” he said after a beat, his lips curling into a smirk. “Mind if we join you?”

“Jesus…” Becca heaved a sigh and turned to Leila. “Do you wanna dance?”

“Sure!”

“Great, let’s go,” she said as she stood up and left the room with Leila following her. Sam and Bucky entered the room, a girl following Bucky right behind him, and you could see they were holding hands. You tried not to roll your eyes and smiled at Sam instead.

“Hey there.”

“It’s been a while,” he said as he squeezed at your shoulder, then sat next to Sarah. Bucky took a seat, and the girl sat right next to him, still not letting go of his hand.

“Look at that, you’re here too,” Bucky told Ethan. “Let’s hope tonight ends better for you than your other date huh?”

You held onto Ethan’s arm, leaning your head on his shoulder without saying anything and Bucky’s jaw clenched.

“Fingers crossed for that,” Ethan said. “But in any case, my awesome doctor is here so I’m prepared if it doesn’t.”

Sarah chuckled and Bucky leaned back on the couch.

“Sam, this is Emmett—”

“Ethan,” you and Ethan corrected him at the same time and Bucky’s smile widened.

“My bad,” he said. “He’s Y/N’s… friend.”

“Nice to meet you,” Ethan told Sam while you played with the straw in your cocktail, keeping your glances on the girl.

“And you are?”

“Allison,” she said and you exchanged glances with Sarah who shook her head at you as if telling you not to do what you were about to, but you turned to Allison.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you said. “Excuse my manners, it’s just that we don’t often see Bucky spending time with women vertically, so it took me a minute to shake off the shock.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes at you while Sam pursed his lips, trying to keep a straight face.

“But look at you Buck!” you told him. “You’re improving yourself.”

“At least one of us is,” Bucky stated, making you glare at him. Sam cleared his throat, shifting his weight.

“Ethan just moved to the city,” Sarah said in an attempt to change the subject and Ethan nodded fervently.

“Yeah it’s been less than a month, I’m pretty new here.”

“And he says people are rude, including his neighbors,” Sarah said and Sam chuckled.

“Let me guess, you grew up in a small town?”

“That obvious?” Ethan asked while you and Bucky glared at each other, neither of you averting your glances. Allison frowned slightly.

“Is everything okay?”  

“Great.”

“Peachy.” Both you and Bucky said at the same time and the waitress walked inside with drinks. Bucky took his glass of whiskey, then took a sip while Ethan sat up straighter.

“I’m just saying, where I grew up, people liked helping others and making friends.”

“You grew up in Narnia?”

“Okay I know how it sounds,” Ethan said with a laugh. “But I mean I guess it’s what I’m used to. I want to go back eventually but…”

“Yeah?” Bucky asked, grinning. “Look at that Charm. He wants to move back to a small town.”

 “It’s a future plan, after decades probably,” Ethan added in a rush. “It’s just so peaceful there—”

“And Charm loves peaceful,” Bucky said. “She eventually wants to just leave this all behind and go live in a cute cottage or something, away from the family business.”

You gritted your teeth, putting your cocktail glass down and Ethan looked between you two while Sarah ran a hand over her face.

“You’d fit right in too,” Bucky told you. “I hear people in small towns never let anything go and can hold grudges for years.”

 “You on the other hand wouldn’t fit in at all,” you shot back. “Ethan says people are nice there so I doubt they tolerate anyone who’s an arrogant asshole.”

“There it is,” Sam murmured. “They lasted longer than I thought.”

Ethan blinked a couple of times. “Uh, how about we all just calm down—”

“They won’t,” Sarah said helpfully and Sam heaved a sigh.

“I knew I should’ve left with Steve.”

 “You really can’t wrap your mind around the fact that people can change, can you?” Bucky asked as you leaned forward, glaring daggers at him.

“Oh I can wrap my mind around that just fine; people can change, you however—” you started but your phone started vibrating on the table so you grabbed it, seeing your father’s caller ID flash across the screen.

“I’ll be back,” you said and pushed yourself off the couch, then made your way out of the club, your bodyguards following you. You took a couple of steps away from the building so that the music wouldn’t be as loud, then answered the phone.

“Daddy?”

“Y/N sweetheart,” he said. “You didn’t text me when you got there.”

“Oh I forgot!” you said, leaning back against the wall. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” he said. “You and Becca are having fun?”

“Mm hm,” you said. “At least I was until Bucky showed up.”

“Bucky is there too?” he asked. “That’s good.”

You rolled your eyes. “Daddy…”

The amusement in his voice was clear; “I’m just saying.”

“I’m going to hang up now,” you told him and he chuckled.

“Be very careful alright? And don’t stay until the dawn.”

“We’ll see about that, love you!” you said and hung up before he could argue. You pushed yourself off the wall but as soon as you turned, your eyes fell on Bucky and you let out a groan.

“Jesus Christ, what is it this time?” you asked. “Let me guess, have my babies or something?”

Bucky shot you an almost reprimanding look.

“If you insist,” he said, making you scoff before you saw his driver stopping the car in front of you both and he opened the door for him.

“You’re leaving?” you asked and Bucky’s head shot up, a look of surprise crossing his handsome features.

“Did you—me and Sam are meeting Steve, something came up but do you want to come with?”

“Absolutely not,” you said quickly. “It was just a question.”

Bucky paused for a moment and cleared his throat.

“So now that you got your revenge, are you happy?”

“My revenge?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said. “What, I broke your heart almost ten years ago—”

“That’s kind of an exaggeration.”

“And now everyone knows you turned my proposal down.”

“Also kind of an exaggeration to call that nonsense a proposal,” you pointed out and he held up his hands, mocking surrender.

“So when will you get rid of him?” he asked and you pulled your brows together.

“Ethan?” you asked. “What makes you think I want to?”

Bucky’s lips curled into a smile.

“Because he will bore you,” he said. “And as much as you like to think otherwise, you don’t do boredom.”

“Oh right, because you know so much about me,” you stated, sarcasm laced in your tone. “Sure.”

Bucky’s piercing blue eyes held your gaze for a moment, making your heart skip a beat before he took a deep breath, as if trying to pull himself together.

“Let me know when you’re done with the whole poems and roses bullshit and want actual power,” he told you as he walked to his car. “Ready when you are, Charm.”  

The driver closed his door and you glared at the car as it drove away, then rolled your shoulders back.

“In your dreams buddy,” you grumbled to yourself, then flipped the phone in your hand and made your way back into the club.

Chapter 7

[sam-loves-seb]

the bathroom drawer

"Mickey!" Ian yells. "Did you move my cologne?"

"Your what?" Mickey calls back, appearing in the bathroom doorway while buttoning up his shirt.

"My cologne."

"No. I don't even know where you keep that shit."

"In here!" Ian says, shaking his head as he rummages through the drawer below their bathroom sink. "I swear I left it in here."

"Lemme see," Mickey says, nudging Ian to the side. "You're shit at looking."

"I'm not shit at looking, it's just not fucking there."

"Yeah, yeah," Mickey grumbles, moving the junk in the drawer around. "Jesus Christ. How much shit do we got in here?"

"Too much," Ian muses, folding his arms over his chest and leaning his hip against the sink. "But it doesn't matter anyway. It's not in there. I've been looking for--"

"Found it." Mickey holds up the blue bottle with a smug grin.

Ian grabs it from him. "Whatever."

Mickey raises his eyebrows. "Whatever? That's what I get?"

Ian leans in and gives him a loud, smacking kiss on the cheek. "Thank you," he says instead.

"Better," Mickey grumbles.

Ian spritzes the cologne onto himself while Mickey keeps rummaging around in the drawer. He pulls out an empty toilet paper roll, a broken comb with too many teeth missing, and an old phone charger with exposed wires.

He throws them all in the trash. "This thing is a mess."

"Yeah," Ian says with a sigh, checking himself over in the mirror. He paws at his hair a bit. "We gotta do a deep clean in here one of these days. Closet's a disaster too."

"What the fuck is--"

Ian looks over at his husband when he doesn't finish his sentence.

Mickey's brows are furrowed as he holds up a thin black stick in front of his face. "Is this makeup?"

Ian huffs out a faint laugh. "Yeah."

"Debbie's?"

"That thing's old enough to be Fiona's," Ian tells him, taking it from Mickey. "But no. It's mine."

Mickey raises his brows. "Yours?"

Ian uncaps the tube, twists the end so the little black tip pushes through the end. "Eyeliner."

"Holy shit," Mickey says slowly. "How fucking old is that thing?"

"Old," Ian says, trying to read the chipped writing on the side for any kind of date. "Probably expired."

"That shit expires?"

"Supposedly. But who knows."

Mickey tilts his head, watching Ian examine the eyeliner. "How the hell did it end up here?"

"No idea," Ian tells him. How it survived in the Gallagher house for as long as it did and moved to their west side apartment is beyond him. "Probably got boxed up with some of my shit a long time ago."

"Huh," Mickey muses. He crosses his arms over his chest. "Can't believe you used to put that shit on every night."

"Me neither," Ian says. "You ever tried it?"

"What, make up?"

"Yeah."

"For a disguise once or twice," Mickey tells him with a shrug. "Never like, just 'cause."

Ian starts to grin. "You wanna?"

"Fuck no," Mickey says instinctively. He bites his lip. "Why? You gonna wear it tonight?"

"Why not?" Ian asks, facing the mirror and leaning in close. "We're already going to a club. Might as well get go all out."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah." Ian glances over at his husband. "You got a problem with that?"

Mickey shrugs. "No."

"Okay."

Mickey watches with rapt attention as Ian applies the eyeliner to himself. The stick is old for sure, and it takes a few passes to really get the make up on his eyelid. It only takes a minute though, and then Ian's eyes are outlined in black.

"There," he says, blinking and turning to face Mickey. "How do I look?"

"Weird," Mickey says.

"Sure, but like, crazy weird, or hot weird."

Mickey's brows pinch together. "...Hot weird."

Ian grins. "It's kinda doing it for you, isn't it?"

"No. Shut up," Mickey says quickly.

Ian laughs. "You should try it," he tells his husband. "It's fun."

"It looks like it's gonna get in my eyes."

"Maybe," Ian says with a shrug. "But I bet you'd look hot with it."

"You say that about everything you want me to wear."

"And I've never been wrong once."

Mickey makes a face. "Does it hurt?"

"No."

"...Can I take it off if it looks stupid?"

Ian's face relaxes. "You can take it off whenever you want," he says softly. "Doesn't ever have to leave this bathroom."

Mickey glares at the eyeliner, his face slowly melting into apprehensive reluctance. "Fucking... fine."

"Really?" Ian asks, perking up.

"How do I do it?"

"I can do it," Ian offers, holding up the eyeliner and his open hand. "Lemme put it on you."

Mickey sighs through his nose, then steps closer. He tilts his chin up and fits his face into his husband's waiting hands.

Ian kisses his temple. "Close your eyes."

Mickey does as told. His eyelashes flutter at the first press of the stick, eyelids scrunching at the new, weird sensation.

"Hold still," Ian whispers, trying not to poke him in the eye.

"Feels weird," Mickey mumbles.

"Yeah, but..." Ian pulls back, smiling at his work. "Open your eyes."

Mickey blinks them open, eyebrows bouncing with it. "So?"

"Damn," Ian says, grinning. "You look good, baby."

"Fuck off with that," Mickey grumbles, turning towards the mirror. He makes a face. "I look like a fucking alien."

"A hot alien."

Mickey gives him the side eye, but he doesn't immediately wipe the eyeliner off. He leans in close to the mirror, tilts his head this way and that. Pulls at the skin on his cheeks and his temples. "Weird," he says quietly.

"So," Ian starts, capping the eyeliner and tossing it back in the drawer. "You ready to go, or what?"

Mickey sighs heavily, taking one last look at himself in the mirror.

Ian slides in behind him, curls a hand around his hip. "Don't overthink it," he whispers, kissing his husband's temple. "If you like it, go with it."

"I don't know if I like it."

"That's okay too."

Mickey leans back against him. "It looks good on you."

Ian smiles softly. "Thanks."

Mickey hums. "Fine," he says, standing up straight. "Let's go. But if anyone says anything about it--"

"I know," Ian says, hands on his husband's shoulders as he follows him out of the bathroom. "You get to punch them."

"I get to punch them."

"Fine." Ian kills the bathroom light. "And we might have to hit the 24 hour CVS on the way home. I definitely don't have make up wipes."

[dilfl0v3rss]

take it

summary: aran breaking your bad habit

cw: smutttt

word count: 1.8k

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

it was a calm saturday night. you and aran were chilling on the couch in your own little worlds. the tv flashing constantly with different images as he played call of duty. face deep in concentration as he and who you assumed to be osamu and atsumu all spoke to each other through his mic. “you keep saying ‘push push’ but when we push we fucking die nigga. we not listening t’you no more tsumu.”

you were paying him no mind, leaning on the armrest as you sat with your feet facing him. phone in hand while tiktok videos played out loud in the living room. while you were scrolling, your attention was moved to a notification on the top of your screen.

emoni💋

twitter.com

look at this shit LMFAOOO

a smile crept to your face as you watched the video your friend sent you, trying your best not to bust out laughing in the middle of the living room.

me

LMFAOOO that’s definitely what she said😭

you continued to scroll through your twitter feed, watching and reading the comments on different posts, eventually getting bored. you thought to yourself “might as well add more to my collection” before making the stupid decision of going into your bookmarks.

your pussy thumped repeatedly in your shorts as you continued to torture yourself with watching video after video on some random homemade porn account. videos of this woman getting her shit tore up left and right. letting her lover do whatever it was that he desired while on camera. in a way it reminded you of how aran would do you. when’s the last time y’all had sex anyway?

your phone was discarded on the armrest as you began to crawl your way to aran’s side of the couch. it was normal that you’d want to cuddle during times like these so he had no problem with you straddling his lap while he continued his game. “you tired?” he asked, but you ignored him. slowly grinding your soaked shorts onto his print. you kept your face in the crook of his neck to keep him from seeing how desperate you looked right now.

aran was just about finish playing his game anyways, mic muted as he laid his controller next to him. the game was still on the home screen since osamu wanted to take a break for some snacks and atsumu wanted to go roll up. aran’s large hands gripped your ass, rubbing and spreading it until he felt your pussy leaking through the shorts on his fingertips. you moved your hips faster to try to distract him, but he was quick. holding your hips still before whispering in your ear.

“easy baby. ian even do nun so why you so wet like this?” his deep voice rumbled through his chest as he awaited your reply. now where you going to really tell your boyfriend that you got horny from watching porn? absolutely not, so you lied. “jus love you so much” you whined, trying your best to get the slightest bit of friction as he continued to hold your hips. aran was very observant, sadly, and he could already tell you were watching porn just by how you kept rubbing your thighs together while looking through the videos on your phone.

you grabbing your earphones didn’t help either, obviously doing so because you didn’t want him to hear. the icing on the cake was your damn glasses. the reflection clear as day every time he glanced in your direction to check on you. he could see every position the man had his wife in. every slap he brought to her ass as well as every time you moved your thumb to add a video to your bookmarks. it was only a matter of time before you came to him so he can fix your little “problem”.

“i love you more, but why you lying t’me?” he lightly pulled your head back before leaning over to grab your phone from the armrest. your horny ass didn’t even turn it off, the video still playing over and over again as he brought the screen to your face. “horny lil thing” he mumbled before abruptly moving you off of him. while he started pulling his sweats down you got the memo to do the same. shorts discarded on the floor as you sat in nothing but his shirt. “this what you want right?” he groaned. large hand stroking his length to life. “y-yea”

“then take it.”

your body moved on its own, quickly straddling him again before lining him up with your entrance. pretty brown eyes slowly rolling back as you sunk down on top of him. inch by thick inch of his long dick rubbing fluently against your tight walls. “fuckk” you moaned as you bottomed out on him. aran watched each of your pretty face expressions, holding a light smirk as he waited for you to start bouncing. “cmon mama. this your dick”

you eagerly got started, bouncing your pretty ass up and down as you caressed the nape of his neck. aran picked up his controller, closing up the game before opening netflix and putting on a show. he knew eventually you’d get tired and ask for his help, but he had other things in mind tonight.

you weren’t a lazy lover, but it’s been brought to his attention that you’ve been a little spoiled lately. you never really did anything for long before you’re complaining bout how tired you were and how he needed to help you. whether it be riding him or throwing it back. aran was sick of this behavior since sometimes it’d be you coming to him begging for some dick then barely even working for it. just laying under him or letting him fuck you from the bottom. he wasn’t going to let that happen tonight though. if you wanted this dick he wasn’t going to just keep giving it to you how you wanted, you were going to have to take it on your own.

it was only about ten minutes into the show where your pace slowed down almost to a stop. hips grinding on him as you whined in his ear. “i-i can’t” “yea you can mama. you gon have to if you wanna cum cause ian helping” you moved your head from his neck, staring him in the eyes with a sad expression on your face. aran could tell you were asking “why?” without even having to hear you say it. “daddy’s tired, but you can do it on your own, right pretty? can make yourself feel good without my help”

you shook your head at this. aran knew your body like the back of his hand, dick always touching places in you that you didn’t even know where there. you knew how to ride him, but it was much different from when he would help you. and you’d get so tireddd. you didn’t have time for that, huffing as you replied to him. “s’not gonna be as good without your help. i cant-”

“sh sh sh. ion wanna hear nun. get that nut on your own.” he didn’t want to hear your excuse. hands lightly gripping and tapping your ass. you sighed, starting back up to a slow pace. ass clapping repeatedly on his thighs as he continued to watch the show as if you weren’t there.

after about ten minutes, your legs began to feel as if they were on fire, tears flooding your eyes as you cried over aran’s shoulder. “p-please baby, i can’t d-do it on my ownnn” your salty tears were wetting up the back of the couch as you were grinding your hips down in his dick. no more energy in your legs for you to keep bouncing. “please fuck me” voice small as your crying quieted down to just sniffles and hiccups. aran didn’t realize how much he’s spoiled you until now, but he didn’t care.

“keep bouncing ma” was all he said, brown eyes glued to the tv, paying you no mind as you started crying and whining again. “s’not fairrr.” you stopped your hips completely, seated on his dick fully as you gave him a defiant look. aran looked down at your petty action, smirking before sliding his hand to your neck. his palm pressed against your throat as he lightly began to squeeze it. the next thing you knew, your face was snatched closer to his, ear right by his mouth as he spoke deeply. “keep bouncing that ass on me princess. if you stop before i tell you to, we gon have a problem y’hear me?”

your pussy instantly began to soak on his dick. his words making butterflies go wild in your stomach as you felt him release your neck and place both of his palms back on your ass. caressing and skin before helping give you a few warmup bounces before letting you continue the action on your own. you kept your pace slow, trying to save energy so you didn’t tire yourself out quickly. he didn’t mind this, liking the feeling of your wet walls slowly gripping and moving against his dick. his tattooed hands rubbing all over your back and ass while he kept encouraging you to keep going.

“uhh huhh jus like that princess”

“see? s’not that hard is it?”

“making daddy feel so good right now”

the praises made things easier, ass bouncing a little harder as you quickened your pace. aran’s bored and uninterested act broken as you listened to him moan under you, hips stagnant as he let you take whatever you needed from him. you started moving your hips in circles as you kept bouncing, dick hitting your sweet spot as moans flew from your lips as well. “feel s-so good shittt” you moaned as your wetness began to trickle down his shaft. your were tired as hell, but you knew if you tried to stop you’d get in trouble. deciding to stay on his good side tonight and pushing yourself to bounce even harder.

aran’s head flew back, adams apple bared to you as he roughly bit his lip. just the sight of him made your pussy flutter, bringing you closer to your climax as you picked up your pace again. you bounced quickly, chasing your orgasm as aran’s grip on your ass tightened. “there you go ma. take what you need. love when you listen t’me” his words pushed you over the edge.

you gave him three more hard bounces before your pussy began leaking all over the cushion. body spasming as his dick was fully soaked. you breathed heavily, try to catch your breath over him before you moved to get off. his big rough palms stooped you. inked hands gripping tight on your thighs. “wha-”

“you not done yet pretty, help daddy cum next.”

[billthedrake]

FAMILY BUSINESS (PART TWO)

The Mazza men chalked it up to the new project that was having them work late, pretty much every night. Mazza and Sons had won the bid for a community center building and had been aggressive in the timeline they could offer. It was part of the son's Anthony's plan to get into higher-budget, higher-profit contract work.

But this was the third night in a row when the father and son looked at each other around 7PM, silently reading the other's expression, trying to feel each other out.

"Feel like Chinese take out, Dad? Or maybe pizza?" Tony asked, looking away from the email he was trying to work through. He did his Crossfit classes in the morning and liked to start the workday with a relatively clean slate, even if it meant putting in extra hours in the evening.

Frank's heart beat a little faster as he took in his son's handsome features. Some fathers were just super devoted to their sons, he reckoned, but with Frank, that love of Anthony took on a perverted spin. He low-key resented his hunky son for getting them started on this little game they were playing, and he loved the kid for it, too.

Maybe Frank would take the initiative tonight. "Why don't we get that other kind of take out first, Tone?" he said with a naughty grin.

That brought out a matching one in Tony. That Mazza smile. "Yeah? I could go for that for sure," he said, leaning back in his chair. He was dressed in professional-casual "contractor" attire of a gray polo and khakis, but even those showed off his muscular, youthful build. "Who ya thinking, Pop?"

Frank knew, but didn't want to seem too eager. It had been a month since Tony showed him the fun of the no-string blowjob from men on the app. In that time they'd shared that experience, generally with the same cocksucker, Ian. They tried out another one but it hadn't felt the same, in part because the Mazza men were nervous about being sussed out as father and son. Ian knew and not only didn't care, but actually encouraged the clear erotic tension between Frank and Tony.

"Ian," the father now said. "He's really fucking good at it."

Anthony smiled. He'd been hoping for that answer. "The best."

Tony messaged Ian. Frank had the guy's cell number and used it frequently on his own, to suck the guy off, but his son didn't know that.

"He'll be here in 15," Tony said proudly as he set down his phone. With a glint in his brown eyes, he looked over at his dad. "You've really gotten into this, Pop."

Frank blushed but gave a nonchalant shrug. "Leave it to my son to show me new tricks," he said. "Besides... I'm 44, not 84... I still got needs."

That made Tony smile. "I think you passed on that sex drive to me, Pop."

"Too much for Becky?" Frank asked. Before this would have been a sore subject, maybe.

His son nodded. "Too much for any chick," he replied.

"You'll find her, Anthony, you'll find the one. I know it."

"Thanks, Pop." He hissed. "Fuck, I'm boned."

This was a new openness too. The Mazzas had indulged guy talk before, sex talk. But now Tony was more open about his cock and his hardons.

His father looked over and tried to see without staring. He'd been thinking a lot of his son's dick. It was a forbidden thought, but the more he tried to suppress it the stronger the urge got. "Promise me something, Tone."

Anthony leaned back in his office chair. "Sure, Pop. What?"

That made Frank laugh a little. "I didn't even tell ya what."

Anthony flashed that killer smile. He certainly inherited a double share of the Mazza good looks. "Doesn't matter. You'd give me the shirt off your back. Figure I could do what you ask."

"Well, when you find your next girl, Tone... make sure she's gonna take care of you."

Antony grinned. "I take it you're talking about more than cooking and laundry."

"That, too," Frank said. "I know you want a traditional wife."

"Yep," the son said, his face getting more serious.

The father took that in. He felt like maybe he'd raised Tony with unrealistic expectations. His ex wife was a good mother, but maybe Tony put her on a pedestal. Frank didn't want to bad mouth her, but he wanted to make sure his son found a woman who'd be more supportive of him than Cathy had been.

Frank was gonna reply, but Tony's phone buzzed with a text. The grin on the son's face was adorable as he looked back up. "He's here. Fuck... I'm horny." He got up and walked over to the door to greet Ian.

Frank felt a flash of embarrassment when Ian walked in. The guy was good looking, not Anthony Mazza good looking. But Frank had hooked up with the gym-built man a few times on his own. He felt bad sneaking around like this, but maybe it wasn't Tony's business if his old man was enjoying his chance at sucking cock.

Ian for his part seemed to relish the naughty secret. Hooking up with both father and son. He had that impish smile now as he walked in ahead of Tony, who was shutting the office door behind them. "Hey Frank," he greeted.

"Hey," Frank said gruffly, more gruffly than he intended. But he was nervous.

Tony's eagerness put him at ease though. Already, he was walking in around Ian and pawing at his khakis. "OK if I go first Pop? I'm so fucking horny."

"Yeah," the dad replied. He hoped the croak in his throat wouldn't betray him. "I can..." he started.

Already Tony was unzipping and hauling out that thick Mazza dick. "You don't gotta. It's not gonna take me long today."

Goddamn, that cock was beautiful. His son's cock, so much like Frank's and yet thicker, more manly somehow. The masculine power of it just made his son's youthful cute handsomeness that more jarring. It was like Frank was fully reconciling two parts of his son's personality. All while he tried to figure out where to look without seeming like THAT much of a perv.

Ian had no hesitation about worshipping the younger Mazza dick. He crouched down and ran his hands up and down Tony's hairy, build thighs. The cocksucker's face was nuzzling against Anthony's balls a second before licking up the shaft.

"Aw yeah, bud... just fucking right," Anthony gasped before Ian took that thick boner into his talented mouth.

Frank could see the tension build and release. Tony wasn't cumming, not yet, but he was relaxing into the blowjob. Instinctively Frank knew how much his son had craved this. It was almost as hot to watch the facial reaction on Anthony's face as it was to see that hard cock being serviced.

His son's eyes lifted up from Ian to meet his Dad's. Not pervy, not ashamed, not accusatory. The gaze was just direct and honest. "He's an incredible cockscucker, right, Pop."

Frank nodded dumbly, which somehow made Tony's smile break out. Fuck, that smile.

With a leer, Anthony looked back down at Ian. "I'm getting close man... you ready, buddy?" he hissed. With a commanding gesture he put his hand on top of Ian's head, which just encouraged the cocksucker to really go for it. Ian's face turned redder as he doubled his efforts. Tony's dick was thick and not easy to take like that, Frank guessed.

Tony's face was getting redder itself as he reached orgasm. "FUCK!" he gasped. Frank had never been so excited in his life as now, watching Anthony cum. It was sexy and beautiful. He felt proud for his boy, and glad for him.

"Damn," Anthony finally hissed as he pulled back. That hardon was doubly attractive slickened with spit and leftover cum. He looked back up at Frank. "Your turn, Pop."

Ian was grinning. And Frank knew why. With Ian, when it was just the two of them, Frank was the cocksucker. But Ian wasn't gonna let on. He sat back on his haunches and watched the father step up and pull out his own erection. Not quite as impressive as Tony's dick, but closer.

It was only as Ian's started going down on him that Frank realized the gay dude was extra worked up to be doing father and son like this. Together, one after the other. That knowledge was hitting Frank, too, deeply. "Fuck!" he gasped, the mouth strokes just adding to the pervy thrill.

Tony meanwhile was acting normal. Or as normal as a dude could be sharing a cocksucker with his father. He'd tucked back in and had walked over to rehydrate with a big slug from a water bottle. His dad's outburst made him turn back around to the action.

"He gonna milk you off quick, too, Pop?" he laughed.

Frank nodded. Ian was great. Greater than great at this. But it was Tone's presence that was gonna get him to the finish line, fast. His hot stud of a son looking on, like they were two fraternity brothers gangbanging some chick together.

Frank Mazza's vision went blurry and white and a burst of wild pleasure jolted through is body. His Anthony was watching him cum. Surprisingly that was as incredible as witnessing his own son's orgasm.

Frank breathed heavy as Ian lapped up the dribbles, his own hand jerking wildly. Frank's paw reached down to creadle Ian's head. Not possessively like Anthony's grip, more encouraging. He had to thank this this gay dude for bringing him and his son together like this.

Ian was on cloud nine, even after he came and cleaned up. "It was a pleasure, fellas. Hit me up anytime," he said. Frank could see the perv had a major bucket list to add to his experiences, and now that the father was in his post-nut clarity he resented that a little.

Anthony was back to his normal bro mode, backslapping Ian as he showed him out. When he strutted back he pulled out his phone. "I may meet my buddies to watch the game, Pop," he said. "See ya tomorrow?"

Frank looked for reproach in his son's face. Or guilt or something. But it was just the look of a young man who'd gotten his rocks off and now was ready to hang out with his friends.

"Sure, Tone. See ya tomorrow."

***

It took two more joint BJ sesions before Frank got the courage. It was Thursday night, guy time at Frank's house, the unofficial start the weekend night for father and son.

Frank didn't have a big cooking repertoire, but he made a mean sunday Italian gravy. Tonight, he did a quicker meal of pasta and meatballs.

"Better than Ma's, Pop," Anthony exclaimed as he pushed his finished plate forward.

"Must have been hungry, Tone," Frank grinned, eating up the compliment.

"You bet. On a bulking cycle at the gym," the son exclaimed.

"You trying to get bigger son?" the father asked with some surprise. Anthony just seemed perfect to him already.

Anthony grinned. "You know how it is. The chicks like 'em big and strong."

Frank felt his crotch grow tight.

"What about you Pop? You're looking pretty fit these days."

Forget muscles, Frank thought, those puppy dog brown eyes and Mazza smile were gonna be what made a woman put out.

"Just do enough to keep it up, ya know," Frank replied. "Nothing like you, Tone."

"You do all right, Pop," Anthony grinned. "So... you getting out on the market again?"

Frank blushed. He didn't know how to be honest with Anthony, or with himself for that matter. "Nah, not yet," he replied. "Guess I'm not ready for that..." Frank blushed as he realized how fucking stupid he sounded. "I mean, sex is one thing Tone, but women my age, divorcees, they take some work."

Anthony smiled. "I get it Pop. After Mom, you don't want another princess."

Frank gave a shrug, in a wasn't-gonna-say it kind of way.

His son laughed. "At least Ian is a good consolation prize, right? He tells me you've been hitting him up a lot."

"Yeah?" Frank gulped. God if that guy told Tony that Frank sucked dick, well, Frank didn't know if he'd be more angry or mortified.

"You don't need to be embarrassed, Pop. I'm the one who urged you to try out guys. Didn't think you'd take to it like you have, but it's cool."

"Ian gonna spoil you, son?" Frank had to ask.

Anthony answered in a way that made it seemed like he'd been asking himself the same thing. "It's certainly nice to have someone very willing and able, ya know? Ian's not the only cocksucker I have in my contacts, but he's the best."

Frank's crotch was beyond tight. The man was full on boned. "You deserve to have your needs taken care of, son," Frank said. Then immediately regretted it.

Thankfully, his son didn't seem fazed, more amused. "Yeah? Well, you too, Pop." He got that telltale smirk. "I was gonna take a night off but what do you say we hit Ian up again?"

Frank nodded, not speaking in case he gave away how eager he was. He watched as Anthony pulled out his phone and sent a few texts.

He finally put it down. "It's wild you're so open minded, Pop," he said. "Kind of cool."

Damn, that Mazza smile was gonna get Frank in trouble. At least they add Ian as the focus and excuse for Frank's pervy state.

Frank actually felt bad at how much they were taking Ian for granted, but when he showed up at the house, he had a very eager grin. Frank was the one to answer the door, and something about the gay dude's excited smile made the 44-year old more relaxed. "Good to see ya, bud," he said patting Ian on the shoulder as he showed him in.

"Man," Ian replied in a whisper. "I'm not gonna turn down a chance with you guys. Ever."

Frank gulped. But he was getting turned on by the incestuous tension of the scenario. He'd given Tony his space once, then the next time he'd watched against as Ian sucked his stud of a son off. "Yeah."

Ian leaned in. "You should go for it today," he said.

Frank knew what he meant. "I dunno."

"I'll set it up. I'll be fucking hot."

Ian maybe meant hot to watch but it would be hot to do. He just didn't want to cross that line. Or he did, and didn't know how the fuck he could do it. This was his Tone they were talking about.

"Hey bud," Anthony greeted as they walked into the living area. "Dad and I were having a beer... can I get you one, or you want to get right to business?" he laughed. God, it was crazy how easygoing Anthony could be about sex.

"A beer sounds good, thanks," Ian said, a twinkle in his eyes.

Frank was surprised, but he watched as as Ian sat next to Frank on the sofa. "This is gonna work, trust me," Ian said.

Frank wasn't so sure. But it was almost like normal, sitting and having a beer with his son and their mutual cocksucker. Frank felt a little bad he didn't know shit about Ian, not really. But Tony kept up a lot of the conversation. Hell, they were talking about the Yankees season for christsake.

Finally Anthony gripped his crotch and stood up. He was still wearing his polo and khakis from the work day but somehow with his youth he made the unofficial uniform seem like it was made to show off his body. "All right, I'm pretty horny," the 24-year-old said with a goody grin. "You ready to take care of me, buddy?" he asked Ian as the young stud walked over to the couch and began undoing his belt.

Frank gulped. He was sitting right there with a front row seat. Watching just two feet away as the gay dude helped his own son pulled out that big thick dong. Ian ran his fingers up that hard length, watching it get harder. And watching Frank see his own son's erection in process.

"Nice," Ian hissed then leaned forward to start sucking Anthony's cock.

It was just beautiful, Frank thought. Ian was very skilled and now very comfortable with Tone's big meat. But his Anthony was what made him horny beyond belief. Seeing his son in full sexual hardness, being taken care of, a total stud. He looked up at Tony's face and expected awkwardness. But his son was mostly looking down, watching Ian work toward some deep throat action, before he turned to look at his dad.

"You got the best seat in the house, Pop," he chuckled. But there was something behind the joke, behind the playful grin.

Frank felt it. Maybe that's what gave him the courage once Ian pulled off, lapping at the tip teasingly. That Mazza dong was veiny and spit-wet.

"Wanna closer view?" Ian asked quietly. For Frank's benefit, though of course Tony could hear it too.

Frank's face burned hot. He didn't have the courage to look back up at Tone, he just kept his eyes focused on his son's throbbing cock and scooted in.

Ian's eyes were on Frank now, in a challenging way, as he opened up and swallowed Anthony again. All the way down, slowly, then all the way off. Then again. Showing off for Frank. "Your son has an amazing cock."

"Yeah, he does," Frank admitted. It was wrong and pervy to say, but it was the truth. Quickly, his eyes darted up to meet Anthony's. But instead of disapproval he saw a simmering, quiet lust in those puppy dog brown eyes.

"It's OK, Pop," came Tone's words, soft and deep. "If you want."

Frank thought judgment day would come and that hell would open up beneath him. It didn't though. Not even as he leaned in and pressed his nose against Anthony's prick.

"Fuck," Ian gasped quietly, his hand holding the base of Anthony's meat still but otherwise pulling back to watch.

The first contact of Frank's tongue to his son's dick gave his whole body and electical jolt. Then again. And again. Frank started lapping Anthony's thick prick and working his way up. His son wasn't stopping him.

When he opened his mouth and felt that Mazza cock press in between his lips, the father was in heaven. He was so glad he'd practiced on Ian and even now was doing his best to copy the cocksucker's technique. Lots of spit, then some suction, up and down, not too hard, undulating a little. Milking his own son's prick with his warm wet mouth.

"Good god, Pop...." Tony hissed. "You're fucking good at this."

Ian was now kissing along Tony's balls while Frank blew him. Then licking along Frank's neck and ear. The guy was thrilled to be witness to an honest to god incest blowjob.

Particularly as Anthony got close. "Just a little more, Pop... a little slower actually... yeah, that's it... fuck, that's gonna get me right there... right fucking there... aw yeah... you ready to make me cum, Dad... gonna suck my cum out... fuck yeah... here it comes, Pop. Oh fuck oh fuck oh FUUUCKK!"

Frank prepared for the worst, but it turned out to be the best. The sensation of having his mouth and gullet flooded with his son's cum, that Mazza seed, briny and thick, a million of his grandkids being force fed to him as Tony got a little wild with some mid-ejaculation thrusts that knocked his cock head an extra inch down Frank Mazza's throat. Frank coughed a little but adjusted just as suddenly.

Ian couldn't take any more. He stood up. Frank had no idea when the guy had pulled out his own dick. Anthony didn't know either for that matter. The 30-something dude flogged wildly to get to the finish line, aiming his prick toward the constractor's face.

The first shot his Frank's cheek just as he was finally pulling off Tony's dick. The second one caught him in the eye as he turned toward Ian. Instinct took over and Frank latched his mouth on that spurting dick, catching at least half of Ian's load.

Frank regretted it. It was hot and all but he wished nothing was pushing the taste of Tone's cum off his tongue now. Still, he swallowed then leaned back, embarrassed.

"Whoa," Anthony said, sighing as he tucked back in. "That was fucking hot."

"Yeah," Frank admitted. He was rock hard in his jeans but the emotional side of what had just happened was hitting him hard and fast. "It was."

His son actually gave his dad a sly wink and looked at Ian cautiously before turning back to Frank. "I actually should get going, Pop. Got an early workout tomorrow."

"Yeah," Frank said, trying to act nonchalant. He wished he could be like Tone. Get his rocks off and split. He stood up.

"You don't gotta walk me out, Pop, I know the way," Anthony said with a laugh. "Besides I think Ian needs to take care of you, right?"

Ian smirked. He knew or least thought he picked up on Anthony's drift. The Mazza kid was a little freaked out his dad was a cocksucker too. Still, Ian wasn't going to pass up the chance for the dad's load. "Sure," he said.

Frank and Ian had barely heard the front door close when Ian was in servicing position for Frank Mazza, pulling out that dad cock and bobbing up and down. It took ten whole seconds to get Frank to cum, hard.

"Thank you," Frank said as he helped Ian to his feet.

"I like sucking you man, you've got a nice dick," Ian replied.

"No, I mean about earlier," Frank clarified.

Ian gave a smile. "Dude, that was a total bucket list thing... dont' worry, I'm not gonna tell a soul. But that was incredible."

The man's assurance helped calm Frank's apprehension. Somewhat. He showed Ian to the door and said he'd reach out again sometime.

****

Anthony either skipped his workout or finished early. Frank had just finished his breakfast when the doorbell rang.

"Tone," he said when he opened the door. His son was already dressed for work, hair freshly showered and gelled.

"Pop. Ok if I come in?"

Frank nodded. He'd barely slept the last night. Thinking over everything. Worrying about everything. "Yeah, come in," he said.

He sat down and expected Tony to, but instead his son stood and said simply. "I don't want you sucking Ian's dick from now on, Pop. His or anyone else's."

Frank blushed deep red and nodded. "I'm sorry Tone, I...."

Anthony cut him short. "Don't apologize, Dad. I'm just telling you how it is, OK?"

Frank didn't quite follow but he just looked up at his son, feeling more emotionally vulnerable than he'd ever felt. God if he fucked him the relationship had with his Tone, he'd never deal with that.

Time seemed to stop as Anthony undid his khakis and unzipped. "I want you only taking care of me, Pop."

Frank gulped. That big Mazza dong plopped out. Not fully hard but getting there.

"Got it?" Tony asked. With authority but a lot of love.

Frank looked up, misty eyed. Turned on. Something clicked for the middle aged divorced father. This felt right. "Got it, son."

With that, he leaned in and started going down on his Tony.

[burntb4bydoll]

hi! idk if you still write for shameless but i read ur carl headcanons and omg i loved it

may i ask fiona gallagher & carl gallagher with a short and hot tempered s/o headcanons?

like reader acts like theyre dangerous and shit but they're actually a softie!!!!'''

This is so me honestly

Fiona/Carl Gallagher with a short and hot tempered s/o

Carl Gallagher

•he thinks that your attitude is so hot

•if someone ever picks a fight with you, he likes to watch it unfold. he would watch you from afar while smirking to himself the whole time you tell the random person off

•finds it absolutely hilarious when your seen cussing out a man almost a foot and a half taller than you. They always get too nervous to agree back with you😭

•he doesn’t want you to get into a real fight tho. it doesn’t matter what you’re doing, if you’re at risk of getting hurt he wont let you do it.

•can and will fight someone for you

•but whenever you guys are hanging out alone, suddenly your whole demeanor changes and you suddenly turn into the biggest sweetheart ever

•and he is absolutely eating it tf up

•he will sit with his back against the headboard while you lay on top of him, the whole time you’re cuddling you are subconsciously pulling yourself closer and closer to him

•he likes seeing your (fake) tough personality slowly fade into your real one once you get some privacy. He feels special that he gets to see the real you and no one else does.

Fiona Gallagher

•loves to be the one to break that tough exterior of yours

•although she does find it very attractive

•she lowkey hates when you get into arguments. You tend to get into fights with people a lot bigger than you and it scares the shit outta her

•if the fight does get physical, she’ll patch you up afterwards while telling you how stupid you were acting😭 she’s definitely pissed off about it, but she’ll end up apologizing like 5 minutes later because she felt bad that she called you stupid

•thinks its so adorable how you act all tough but the second she kisses you, you damn near melt

•she likes to tease you for being short a lot, but its just playfully. She actually really enjoys the height difference

•takes so many pictures of you when you’re acting all soft. You’re either cuddling into her side, laying with your face in her neck or standing next to her in the mirror in the morning, just hugging her from behind with your face smooshed again her back.

•her and Ian are secretly conspiring to make you and mickey hang out and become friends because they think that you’re similar to each other

[liliannadelaphinehartifelt]

Helloo!

Idk if you take requests , but could you maybe write a fic with Human!Alastor and male!reader where reader exaggerates his whole personality to comply with everyone else and is easily exhausted from it and Alastor "relaxses" reader in that way ?

Thank you in advance and have a good day !

Alastor - [ MASQUERADE ]

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A/N: This request really made me brainstorm but I've decided to break it into 2 parts. I hope you'll enjoy it! As always kindly lmk the artist of the fanart so I can tag them and give proper credit! ❤️

WARNINGS: [ SLIGHT NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ SUGGESTIVE THEMES ] + [ MALE READER ] + [ FLUFF…if you squint ]

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“You're on air in ten minutes, Y/n. Pick it up before the host gets restless!”

Your so-called manager barked from the dressing room doorway, giving one last glare your way before strutting off, grumbling a string of curses you'd learned to ignore.

“Asshole…” you scoffed, turning back to the striped mirror of your vanity; the large bulbs that lit it gave enough light in the old stuffy backstage space, illuminating every detail of your appearance.

Not one thing could be out of place.

You wouldn't allow it, committed to your role as a rising preformer in the golden age of the stage, and conditioned to perfectionist standards from years of tribulations

Suffering behind a practiced smile won you your stardom. The ambiguous beauty you possessed helped immensely in your success on the silver screen, but the truest contributor to your fame was appeal.

Humourous, intellectual, but most crucial, sex appeal.

That's what kept your admires enthralled, permanently put you in the limelight from the start, and inevitably earned you considerable amounts of money.

You weren't opposed to being called a child of Dionysus himself, envied by those who wanted you. Still, the burden of putting on a show for everyone every day without giving them a glimpse of your faults was excruciating.

Yet, you chose the burden over sulking in the darkness, remaining among the ordinary when you so clearly had the makings of a star, and your status of high popularity among the masses was proof of it.

So be it if your cheeks ached from smiling at frivolous fans that your laugh sounded less like your own the more you forced it, that flirtations of others felt like empty praises, or that every project you agreed to felt less and less stimulating.

So fucking be it.

Fame is fickle; you knew this all too well, but your existence felt meaningless without it.

Empty.

All the world's riches, the undivided favor you garnered from the public, and the sparkling awards cluttered your penthouse display shelves…

Even with all that at your fingertips, you had yet to feel seen…

Seen and truly adored.

“Two fucking minutes! Get your ass in position. This interview is being broadcast live, remember?” your manager harped at you from the hall, causing you to grunt in frustration before yelling back, “Would you shut your trap?! Fucking hell…I'm coming!”

You set aside the whiskey glass in your left hand, ran your right through your recently styled hair, and checked your reflection one last time.

“It's only a radio show. One little interview and you can go home and get black-out drunk…” the idea of spending some much-deserved time alone after running around doing a press tour brought a sad smile to your face as you stood and exited the dim room.

This would be your last stop, an interview with Louisiana’s prided radio host, and the last person you'd need to put a show on for before returning home.

“Finally…” your manager grumbled as you stepped into the hall, giving you a once over as the two of you strolled down the hall towards the host recording area, “Don't fuck this up. People say this ones a real talker and can make or break ya..” he mumbled begrudgingly.

You paid his incessant pestering no mind, flashing him a suave smile as you both stopped before a heavy door, “Don't tell me you're starting to care about my reputation now? Thought you only saw me as a nice money grab…”

Your smile grew as laughter bubled in your chest, seeing the other slowly become agitated at your backhanded comments.

“Why, you little-”

“Oh, don't be rude, sir. You'll spoil my good mood, and god knows sour spirits bring bad luck,” you smirked, enjoying the scrunch of his nose as his expression reflected his true nature, but before he could snap, you pushed the door open and slipped into the soundproofed station room.

What a fucking pain he is…

You cursed the raging man outside, sighing softly as the sound of jazz lingered through the air and the smell of freshly brewed coffee mixed with a distinct cologne engulfed you.

The space felt and looked inviting, relaxing even, but what caught your attention was the man who occupied it.

He sat in a desk chair across the small room, facing a table full of controls and a mic to match. His face was lowered from the device, glasses resting comfortably on the bridge of his nose as he stared at what you assumed was a script for your conversation with him, but the simmering amazement overtook your curiosity about the paper he held you felt hearing him hum along to the song he was airing.

You didn't dare move an inch closer, satisfied with watching and listening to him from afar, oddly entrapped by the silent allure he cast.

It was no mystery that people loved the sound of his voice. You'd be fooling yourself if you said you hadn't found his commentary enchanting, but looking at him in the flesh, you were sure he'd flourish on the silver screen like no other.

He could indeed win the eyes of many…

Yours especially, and to some degree, he had already, but you hesitated to admit it even as he turned to face you.

Oh…. he is a beauty, that's for sure…

That was the singular thought in your mind as he smiled, standing from his seat before approaching you with all the confidence you'd merely portrayed.

“Hello there. You must be Y/n L/n. I'm Alastor Hartifelt. It's a pleasure to meet you, my friend!”

His voice was as smooth, melting into the background melodies inexplicably, and your heart lightened immensely as he held out a hand for you to shake.

“The..the pleasure is all mine, Mr. Hartifelt..” you inwardly scolded your delayed greeting, losing track of your practiced charm relatively quickly in his grasp. Still, in seconds, you recovered from the blunder while returning his smile.

Alastor took you in with a glance up and down your figure, cataloging every detail of your appearance out of habit, but when his gaze met yours, one thought crossed his perceptive mind.

Longing?

How curious…

You hid the familiar emotion well; seeing past the veil of contentment wasn't tricky, and though he was tempted to bring it forth.

You two shook hands briefly but firmly. Alastor stepped back, gliding his hand out to mention towards the recording station. “Come, have a seat, and please call me Alastor. We will be on air after all; formalities aren't necessary for an engaging broadcast.” His smile grew, emitting an unearthly kindness as you nodded in understanding before sitting in the chair opposite his.

“You make an excellent point, Alastor. I hope we enjoy each other's company.” You chuckle softly, feeling a tad nervous for a reason unknown but genuinely harboring a rise in excitement, hearing him respond promptly.

“I have no doubt we will…” Alastor muses more to himself, a delicate edge to his voice as he trailed behind you, and a certain twinge of intrigue rattled your spine at the implication.

For the first time in a long time, you weren't dreading the inclinations of your fame, gradually succumbing to the sparks of joy Alastor evoked with the most straightforward words and becoming surer of the fact as he took his seat next to you.

“Shall we begin?” he implies cheekily, and you reply in a quick, witty fashion, “We shall.”

————-

“Care for a drink, my friend? I believe we’ve earned ourselves a cold glass of whiskey… that is, If your evening is unreserved.” Alastor made the offer moments after switching your respective microphones off, quickly arranging the recording panel to a specific setting as he listened for your response.

Your mouth moved quicker than your mind; a distinct rush overtook at the thought of spending more time with the charismatic radio host, “I'd be delighted to join you. I must agree that our interview went quite well. It's rare to have an easy conversation with a stranger these days..”

Alastor raised a brow, sparing you a glance as he finished sliding keys and flicking switches into place to keep a calming stream of music lingering in his broadcast, “So, I'm still a stranger to you?… My, and I thought we were getting on so well…“

He spurs you casually, an air of hurt in his expression, and it stuns you, causing a red hue to rise on your cheeks, “Th-that's not at all what I meant, Alastor…” Your lower head twinges of embarrassment staining your consciousness, and for the third time that evening, Alastor had chipped away at your charm.

He enjoyed it….

Seeing you falter and conform to his standards, though you didn't need to, at any time, you could've remained indifferent to him and taken your leave the moment he shut your mic off, but you remained.

Solely because you'd grown attached to him or the defect he had on you.

Humbling, genuine understanding, but above all else, validation.

“My dear, I am only poking fun. I take no offense to your words, and I hope you'll grant me the same courtesy!” Alastor reached for you, thumb and forefinger slipping under your chin to lift it, and you obeyed his gesture with a soft smile. “Oh…I…”

You paused, swallowing thickly as he raised himself from the chair, head lowered toward yours as he stood above you.

Had he always been so tall?

So brooding?

You weren't entirely sure, but your heart raced, every nerve in your body tingled with anticipation as if you were a deer caught in his headlights, but you couldn't retreat or evade him.

“You what?..” Alastor cooed quietly, chocolate eyes on fire with an emotion you'd long forgotten but returned subconsciously.

Control.

You needed to be back in control, or the next breath between you two might lead to something…

Your mind played scenario after scenario, beginning to short circuit as he peered down at you, lips only inches from yours, and his other hand reaching to caress your cheek. His touch is searing, warmer than those you'd felt before, intentional, and your entire being buzzed in his grasp as if in a drunken stupor.

He was dangerous… able to tear through your facade easily, which was terrifying.

Polarizing.

Don't let him get any closer…

Keep him at a distance…

You've only just met him...

Warnings rang in your head, but your eyes lowered to his lips, and your voice remained quiet as you responded to his question.

“I" 'd like to have that drink before the night ends. Wouldn't you?"With a gentle nudge of your head and a soft laugh, you draw away from Alastor's touch. The space between you increases, and the ability to breathe becomes less strenuous as you stand to your feet, collecting your overcoat before slipping it on, "I'm not familiar with the city yet, so I'll leave it to you to show me around." The chipper in your tone amuses Alastor; you'd perfected the art of illusion so well that in the clutches of what some might consider an intimate moment, you balked and reclaimed sensibility like it never occurred, though you wished for it to carry on further.

He'd met and spoken to his fair share of actors, learned their ticks and telling habits, and used it against them when he saw benefit in toying with them.

However, being able to see right through you evoked another motive for the host, and he dared to think it was mutual.

"Well, I'd be honored to show you the ins and outs of this lively town I call home so long as you promise to keep up," Alastor retrieves his coat, a heavy jet black trench withered accents paired with matching hat, stylish in all the right ways -presumably warm to be in. Still, you were sure if he ventured into the night dressed like that, any stranger would fear him.

They had good reason to, but you didn't need to know why.

Not yet…

With a coy smile, you followed Alastor out of the station, matching his strides as he paved the way to a nearby speakeasy, "You'll find it quite entertaining, my friend. Few visit at this hour, but my dear Mimzy puts on a vine show regardless!" Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of Alastor being infatuated with another, for what reason you weren't sure, but your disappointment flashed clear in your eyes that he took it upon himself to clarify his remark.

"She is an old and loyal acquaintance. Nothing more. Nothing less."

You perked up at the explanation, face burning with a blush as you raised both hands to dissuade his interpretation of your expression, "I understand. You needn't explain anything to me-"

Alastor halted in his tracks, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he peered at you curiously, "Hm, so you did assume we were something to begin with?..."

Shit, was I that obvious?...

"Not at all..." you lie, as calm as ever but internally conflicted.

How could he go about messing with you so boldly?..

And why did it excite you?..

"Your eyes say otherwise, my friend..." he counters your nervous reply with a smug smirk, beginning to walk off as if he wasn't toying with your head, "My eyes?..." you whisper in response.

"They are the doorway to the soul...I've learned to walk through said doors, and you, my dear, hide a lot of fears behind them." Alastor chuckles, ears tingling as you reclaim your spot at his upon reaching your destination. Still, you're less concerned with the dark alley lit with a singular neon sign situated above a heavy lead door and more worried about what he is implying regarding your emotions.

Who was he to know anything?

Sure, he was pleasant to be around, an avid intellectual with a knack for continuing conversation with you, and you had no reason to believe he'd been faking his friendliness to you from the start...

That still gave him no right analyzing you, prod at your exterior with more confidence than necessary, and you intended to let him know it.

A glare beset your expression, mouth open to speak, but you weren't allowed to do so as the lead door swung open.

Alastor guided you close to his side as a gaggle of patrons spilled from the doorway, ranting and raving about the time they had inside. Their rowdy behavior irked him, but you did not comment on the matter as he placed a hand on your back to lead you inside after their dysfunctional departure.

“Drunken idiots,” he mumbled begrudgingly, and for the first time you'd seen the radio host truly bothered. He'd been so composed during your interview, inviting and flirtatious on and off the air, so getting a glimpse of his annoyed state felt like a treat.

At least you knew he had flaws, insignificant but telling ones.

“Um. Alastor, you can..” you paused, unsure if you wanted to let him know he was still holding onto your waist as he led you inside the dim speakeasy. Alastor hummed, irritation gone, and his coy smile widening as you shuffled alongside him. “Y-you can let me go now.”

“Oh, nonsense, my dear! I wouldn't want you to run into unsavory characters like the ones that just passed..”

He quickly navigated the lingering crowd, clearly familiar with the club's layout, and you marbled at its unique atmosphere as he led you through it. “I can handle myself, Alastor,” you tried again to reason, but Alastor was quick to give a response as he ushered you to sit at an unoccupied lounge chair complete with a table and lamp.

“I'm sure you can but I'm rather fond of keeping you close.” He sat next to you after setting his coat and hat aside.

What did he mean by that?..

“How selfish of you,” you feigned disappointment as he shifted to face you with a soft chuckle leaving his lips, “Would you be so kind as to forgive my greed for your attention?” Alastor stares you down, noting how you bite your lip, another nervous tick you'd yet to disregard in his presence. “I'll consider it if you buy me a drink or two..”

The suggestion was meant to sound confident, unmothered by the mounting pressure in your chest, but it came out breathless. You were sure that you'd mastered the art of indiffenece, permanently established a mask of charm, but as much as you wished to maintain the certainty…

Alastair disproved it with little more than a gesture or equally compelling word.

It was unsettling, intoxicating too, but undeniably riveting.

“A small price to pay,” he mumbled, eyes lowering to your lips as you laughed softly and leaned back to admire the other patrons roaming or dancing around. “I never said I was cheap..” you taste him, gaze drifting to him as he shifted closer. You wanted to jump out of your skin as his arm came to rest behind you, head lulling to ward your cheek as he breathed into your ear. The resulting warmth made you shiver, quickening your breaths, and your body tingled with intrigue.

“No…” Alastor affirmed your jest, free hand raising your chin, tilting your head to face him as he continued, “…but you are desperate to be loved. One might say that's just as inappropriate, mon Cher..”

His tone dripped with condensation, a sensual purr loud enough to drown out the jazz and chatter surrounding you, and for a moment, he was all you could comprehend.

You should've felt angry, unsettled even, but his words struck a more profound emotion.

Comfort.

You weren't crazy, a constant wonder for the masses to marvel at and never care about.

Alastor could see you.

He wanted to…

“And so what if I am? Why would it concern you?..” there was no harsh undertone to your question, and it earned a sultry hum of amusement from him. “You've interested me, so I must not ignore your charade. I'm partial to the truth of a person, and you, my dear, abandon it in the hopes of success..”

Spot on.

It is shamelessly hurtful but direct nonetheless.

You clicked your tongue dismissively, attempting to turn your head away from his grasp, but Alastor held you tighter.

A glare crossed your face at the brushing grip he established, but a pool of excitement rushed to your crotch as well.

“I'm not one of your scripts to read, Alastor..” you scoff, rolling your eyes to make your point clear, but he isn't affected by the arrogant gesture.

“My apologies if it seems that way, but my intention to know you, inside and out, is purely innocent...”

“I find that hard to believe…” you retort, very aware of the minimal space between you two, and it became harder to focus on anything else but his soft lips that were stretched thin into a smile.

God, I was doomed from the beginning… you think to yourself as you laugh at your shameless line of sight. “Believe what you wish, my friend, but I enjoy being the object of affection..”

“That's inappropriate to suggest,” you mutter, face burning with blush and your hands raising to grip his wrist and collar. Alastor hummed, amused by your denial, “Mm, I suppose it is…would you like another apology?”

You shake your head, tugging him in by the collar of his shirt, eyes lifting to his, full of determination, “A kiss will do just fine…”

He holds your gaze, checking for mockery, but there is none. “That's the first honest thing you've said all night, mon cher,” Alastor points out in a hushed tone, lowering his head to place a slow kiss on your lips as they pull into a satisfied smile.

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I rewatched Heartstopper for this. Was it helpful? Yes. Did it make me cry harder than the first time I watched it? Also, yes. Will I forever love that show?… (yes). Again, this is just part 1! The second half is being drafted. Please look forward to it. I'm not sure it'll include smut…but I'll debate on that later.

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

He's so cheekyyyy but I love him for it hehe like he’s just the right amount of ‘cocky asshole’ ya know? ❤️ credit to creator!

[leviscolwill]

ballroom extravaganza

pairing: jude bellingham x f1 driver!reader

summary: you always hated arguing with jude, but even more so when you're about to race monaco's streets (wc: 1,7k)

req: jude bellingham x f1 related f!reader ! (driver if u can or js a driver’s relative) where they argue before a match/race that doesn’t go really well + she crashes/dnf or he gets rlly hurt in a match

contents: jude is jealous, reader drives for mclaren w lando (sorry oscar my beloved </3), possible racing inconstancies (i can't drive to save my life), reader crashes (nothing too bad happens tho), gasly slander sorryyyy, language ??, quite angsty but happy (&fluffy) ending i swear

note: i didn't want to make either jude or reader 'the bad guy™' so i hope i didn't side with one more than the other writing the argument part :| i had so much fun writing it, so i hope you enjoy reading it (lmk by rb and giving feedback !!). finally, thank you for requesting anon,, i hope you like it 🫶

now playing: ballroom extravaganza by dpr ian (moodswings in to order)

"i'm just saying, i don't like the way he looked at you when he said that"

"you're being ridiculous jude, he's my teammate and i've known him for years."

jude had always been the jealous type, and you never had any problem with this, until now. he tried to tell you how lando was flirting with you when that's really just how he communicated. sure, he was kinda flirty at times, but he knew you were in a relationship and never crossed any lines with you. but jealousy seemed to get the best of your boyfriend in that moment.

"that's not the point y/n, i'm a man and i know what he meant when he said he'll take you to this 'perfect seaside italian restaurant if your boyfriend won't'. and you just stood there laughing." his voice was louder now, and you hated it whenever jude screamed, especially when those screams were directed at you.

"you're delusional... he didn't imply anything with that, he was only joking." you tried to reason your boyfriend.

"i still don't like it, i'm not asking you to never talk to him again, just make it clear you're-"

"but he knows that jude! i talk about you all the time, let's be serious for a second, come on." you laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation you were in, 45 minutes before the monaco grand prix fighting with your boyfriend in your driver room, it was probably the last thing you should be doing on a track where your focus was the most important thing.

you were always grateful whenever jude made time to see you racing because you knew how packed his schedule was. but right now, he was the last person you needed to see given the circumstances.

"jude, please just leave, i'm sick of fighting."

"i'm not leaving, we're having this conversation whether you like it or not." he said in a calmer tone, but it was too late, the damage was done.

"well, you're in my room right now and i want you out. i need to focus and you're not exactly helping right now."

"but we need to talk it out, i don't want you to go while we're fighting." you would have sworn his voice broke a bit when he ended his sentence.

"maybe you shouldn't have picked a fight with me then! maybe you shouldn't be here at all actually..." you practically whisper the last part and you immediately regret the words that came out of your mouth, knowing well you didn't mean them.

"okay then..." jude quickly gets up and you can't help but look at your feet, you can almost feel the sad look on his face.

"i love you."

you wanted to say it back but he closed the door with a loud bang before you could mutter any sound.

the only thing jude left behind was the faint smell of his cologne for you to think about what just happened and not focus on your race at all.

deep breaths. deep breaths were what you needed, you tried to shift your focus on your start, how you needed to get away from sainz, given how close he was to you. whenever your mind drifted off to the argument you had with jude, you found another thing to focus on before the race. the formation lap would start in a couple minutes, your focus needed to be on monaco's streets for at least an hour and a half, then you'll handle the rest later with jude, you always did.

the formation lap started and everything went perfectly well, you just had to wait for the red lights to turn off and you'll be gone, no more thinking, or overthinking.

"it's lights out and away we go in the streets of monaco."

perfect start, now you just had to race like you knew how to for 78 laps. nothing you couldn't do.

the first 46 laps went perfectly, you managed to overtake carlos' ferrari and pierre's alpine. everything went well, then you thought about jude, you knew he was probably still mad at you but you still hoped he was watching the race, waiting for you with papaya-coloured headphones. as your thoughts kept going you were about to get to the trickiest part of the circuit, mirabeau.

as your focus shifted back to your race, you forgot the most important thing, the biggest danger on track is the other drivers.

your brain barely had time to register the bright blue alpine trying to overtake you when there was clearly no space. next thing you knew, your head hit the cockpit. before you hit the wall at god knows what speed, you thought about how you didn't tell jude you loved him back, and how you hoped he was still aware of how much he meant to you in that moment.

pitch black, no sound at all, you couldn't feel anything for about thirty seconds because of the shock.

then everything came back. you felt the urge to move your legs around, they moved. perfect. then you felt like your position was unusual, you came to a conclusion on your own, your car was on its side. you didn't even get to think about getting out because you felt a horrible pain in your head, where it was hit you assumed.

and lastly, you saw the medics making sure you were okay, you moved your hand for them to understand the message. you were okay, they helped you out of the car, saying you would be taken to the infirmary.

you couldn't stop smiling, you felt terrible about the race and it was probably the biggest crash you ever experienced but everything was well, your family and friends saw you get out of the car safely, and you'd be able to tell jude you loved him. everything was well.

you had to answer the medics questions that made you feel like a 4-year-old: "what's your name ? do you know which day of the week it is ?" you knew it was for safety reasons but you absolutely hated it.

jude opened the door in pure jude fashion, loudly. you almost stopped waiting for him at that point but he was here finally.

he didn't even talk to you, words weren't needed. he just held you really tight even though you were still on the, very uncomfortable, infirmary bed. you felt his arms that were holding onto you shake as he kissed your hair.

"you have no idea how fucking terrified i was y/n." while jude had been to a fair few races with you, he'd never seen any big crashes, let alone involving you. yes, you could only imagine how scary that must have been for him, feeling powerless over the situation, you knew it all too well. you felt that way when jude was injured and you were absolutely helpless, of course you never wished for your boyfriend to ever feel that way, but here you were.

"i love you." you felt like it was the first thing you should say right now. "so so so much. i'm sorry for not saying it earlier." jude looked at you as tears started to form in your eyes, he quickly wiped them away and kissed away the sudden wave of sadness surging through you.

"and i'm sorry for getting mad at you, i shouldn't even have told you about it before the race, it was-"

jude was cut short when someone knocked and opened the door quickly after. pierre came in with a sorry look on his face, you heard he dnf after he damaged his car. poor thing.

"y/n, are you okay? i'm sorry about-" he started rambling with a french accent.

"i'm fine don't worry, just... can we talk about it later? you can come to our motorhome, they make great coffee there i swear." you tried to joke to lighten up the atmosphere, but it was still as tense as before.

if looks could kill, gasly would have died right here the way your boyfriend eyed him in silence, his gaze following the driver on his way out.

"what a fucking dickhead. how is he driving a whole f1 car? even i would do a better job than him i swear..." your boyfriend's pettiness amused you, even more so knowing that boy couldn't ride a bike without scaring the life out of you.

his features visibly changed and you knew he wanted to talk your argument out, as you were both calmer about the situation. but he didn't get the chance to speak a word before lando opened the door.

"what did that french hooligan do to my favourite teammate? that was a barbarian try at overtaking really." you laughed at your teammate being dramatic, as always.

"i'm fine, i think gasly needs prescription glasses though, i don't know where he saw the space there but i'm okay."

once again, you felt jude's eyes burning holes in lando's skull as he went silent, he quickly took the hint and left.

you couldn't help but burst out laughing at jude when it was just you two in the room.

"you need to stop glaring at people like that."

"i just don't like him." you took his hand as he looked at you, his look much softer than the one he gave pierre and lando.

"i only want you. alright? it doesn't matter how lando views me, whether what you think is true. he will never be you." you told him stroking your thumb on the back of his hand.

"i know that, i was just mad at how he acted with you. i'm sorry about that. i trust you, 100%. i just don't like how comfortable he was making these comments y'know."

"i get that, i'll make my boundaries clear with him, okay? let's not fight over silly things like that anymore."

jude softly grabbed your jaw and kissed you, you could tell you both needed this talk, and this kiss, to clear the air.

you pull out of the kiss first, suddenly feeling the urge to annoy him.

"you know... you look good when you're jealous, i might try that more often..." jude faked a serious face.

"if attention was what you wanted, you just had to ask love." he joked as you playfully hit his arm.

"just no more leaving without saying 'i love you' alright?" he asks before quickly kissing your forehead.

"never again."

[ohnopeh]

i find it incredibly funny and telling seeing ian's reaction to mickey going to a hipster concert with his 'boyfriend'

he's there making faces and describing them looking at mickey as in 'this is everything you hate, are you for real?'

i love how his reaction is to laugh and not to feel jealous at mickey ''trying'' to ''fit in'' for the guy, cause he knows he's just doing that to keep the whole ''i've moved on'' thing going and byron. it also made me think how this is what ian did with his other relationships, trying so hard to be loved. he knows that doesn't work and that mickey isn't like that so he doesn't feel threatened by ian's poundland's version. but ian? ian had to listen to trevor's music, tried to be ''cool'' and go to the club cause trevor kept pushing himself over ian i'mnotafraidofanything gallagher.

i feel like ian's need to fit where people tell him to increased with s4 when he was maniac and away from his family. him being at the club, having ''regulars'' and parties (e.x. the one he went with mickey) he had this whole life that he didn't like but kept on shoving on himself cause he thought that's what he has to do to be loved. but then he's with mickey and s5 has him move on from that life as he's with someone who doesn't make him feel like he needs to try and pretend being someone else. s6 happens and the whole EMT is amazing but still, ian is still being used in ways (making caleb's father's angry + fucking a girl) so people want him just cause he fits with their needs and not what they can share together. its always ian giving to others. s7 with the whole trevor thing felt so awkward, he made ian feel like shit for not being up to date with every lgbtq term. trevor's group was basically this

despite that, ian was never enough. trevor kept telling him off and showing how cool and superior he is compared to ian. which is why i love how ian can see through mickey's bullshit, knowing that doing so its just trying too hard, not being genuine. its not what mickey and ian are. ''can't we just be ian and mickey?''

and i think that also reflects on s11 arc for them. ian wants to make the marrige work, he doesn't want mickey to regret it so he tries so hard, but by doing so they struggle to understand each others at first. they both want monogamy but a misunderstanding makes them both think the other wants to include people in their sex life. debbie and mickey point out that ian gets influenced by lip and that he doesn't have other friends. he thinks they seem it as something bad, something he needs to change. so what does he do? he decides that he and his husband are going to have gay friends and do the whole 'sex with others' thing. what's funny is that they both know they don't want that so what does ian do to convince mickey to tag along? he makes him jealous

''...who knows what will happen?'' and mickey sees through his bullshit

he's like ''are you really pulling this shit on me?'' so when he reminds ian what their decision was, ian tells him ''then i guess we should make some friends together.'' he tags along, they hang out with other gay people just like the ones trevor was friend with. but this time ian is comfortable saying that's not going to do it for him. but mickey? he's is a little shit and wants ian to learn a lesson so they stay till the night and all that shit. but THEN

they come back from the shitty hang out and mickey knows! he knows that ian finally understands. ian didn't have fun, ian didn't want to be with them, didn't want to force that lifestyle cause this time he's not with someone who's asking him to do that. ian even says

mickey's face is a clear ''no shit, sherlock.'' despite being himself with mickey, he's still struggling to accept that mickey wants ''all of the fucking versions of me.'' so he tries to force what he thinks will be the best for mickey, for them. which is also why he regrets getting the house on the west side after mickey's breakdown. he did sign the paper cause mickey was the first one to suggest checking it out, he knows that mickey deserves more than being a ''southside trash'' but he pushed it without giving mickey a chance to elaborate it. once ian finally realises that, he's willing to take a step back go back to where mickey is comfortable. this time though, mickey knows that ian is doing it for them and to show mickey his life is so much more than being what his father wanted him to become. and then the anniversary day? i have this headcanon that ian didn't say anything first because he wanted to check if mickey still cared about it, if he didn't regret getting married to ian. after a year together ian tried and 'failed' to make things work the way he thought they were supposed to be. is mickey still 'fucking crazy' for wanting that? so he waits, tries to remind him. they go to the alibi and ian has given up, he doesn't want to go out, he wants to go home and he's so desperate for mickey to remember their anniversary before the day ends. so he tells him but mickey reaction is anything but hurtful to ian. patting him on the shoulder and saying ''that's great.''

he must be thinking, 'this is the same person that fought so hard for us to get married, went all crazy over it and planned to kill his father for ruining it-- and now that we've hit the one year mark he's forgotten and just pat me on the shoulder?' cause ian knows what it feels like to be loved by mickey and he doesn't see it in that moment, he's scared.

the face he makes once he realises that he planned a big surprise for him, for them. for their love? its like he can finally breathe, they're okay, they're going to be okay. because they're ian and mickey and they love each other and go through everything together. ''thick and thin all that shit.''

and finally he knows he can stop trying so hard to fit somewhere he doesn't want to be, because he's loved for who he is, with all of his flaws that others made him think he wasn't worth the trouble. but just like ian makes mickey free, mickey himself makes ian feel free.

bonus 'mickey's ''no way i would forget about that'' expression.'

[elfqueen006]

Hide And Seek

Sunny Day Jack x Reader

a drabble i came up with on the fly. first person pov. suggestive.

---

It was only supposed to be a game of hide and seek.

“Sunshine.” He calls out my name in a coo. I hear him shuffling around. Moving objects and pacing the house with his large clown shoes. I’m quiet as a mouse all the while, huddled in my closet. I’m surprised it isn’t the first place he looks, inside my room. But the pros and cons of this hiding spot was that it was too obvious, so it’d either be the first place you looked, or the last.

I expected Jack to go with the first place. He was a bit of a strategist when he played games, and also a bit competitive, if anything. And when he got in the zone, he became determined.

I hear more shuffling, “Are you in… here?” I flinch at the distant sound of a door swinging open, clasping my hands over my mouth. The door slams shut harshly. “Drat…”

I stifle a giggle. He sounds like a cartoon villain.

A pause. More shuffling. A creak in the door of the spare room. Ian’s old room. There’s more shuffling, then a clatter. I think I hear something like angry sputtering. I feel a cold sweat coming on. Jack is rarely ever - if at all - upset or angry. He’s been disappointed, and I hate whenever he was like that, especially with me. But he almost never showed signs of abrasiveness towards anyone. It might be funny if I could see his face, but the muttering along with hectic shuffling gives an added tension to this once fun game.

“Sunshine. Where are you?” He demands. There’s a bite in his voice I don’t expect. I involuntarily squeak.

Another pause. Then heavy but sure footfalls approach my room.

“...Sunshine?”

I gulp. This man… he can’t have known where I was by a little sound, right?

I keep quiet, pursing my lips shut. I can’t stop the heavy breathing through my nose though; my heart races as Jack paces around the room.

I see his hulking figure through the closet blinds. At times I’m only mildly annoyed at our vast height difference, but from the position I’m in now, I’m flustered – in a state of unease. Like I don’t want him to find me not just for the game’s sake, but for a sort of primal instinct of self preservation.

The next thing Jack does astounds me. He rubs his hands together, rolls his shoulders and lifts up my bed. A low growl escapes him when I’m not there, and he drops it unceremoniously.

“Fuck.” I breathed.

The silhouette of technicolor fwips in my direction and stomps over to the closet before the doors swing open.

Jack looks so… different from this angle. Almost terrifying. His usually easygoing grin is strained and feral on his face. His eyes stare down at me with a crazed intensity.

“I found you.” He said it as if I were really lost. Like he’d been searching for a year before finding me hiding in uncharted territory.

I laughed weakly, “Yep. Let’s um… do another round! You’re it now.”

“No. No…” Jack lifts me off the ground, pulling me to my now disheveled bed. My nightstand lamp is still on, and in the light I can see Jack’s cheeks are flushed. I’m about to ask him if he’s okay, or if he could slow down, but it dies on my tongue; the muscle is like lead – heavy in my mouth, thus I can’t make a sound.

Though I let a soft moan out when Jack kisses my neck.

“You’re too good at this game.” He muttered on my skin. He kisses up to the lobe of my ear before turning to whisper in it, “I have another game in mind, though.”

Lightly, he pushes me on my back, undoing my pants with a wide grin on his face, “I call it, hide the pierrot!”