#Ian's Dad AU

[panie-wanie-dean-bean]

A little Ian x Reader fic based on my tumblr beloved @threadsun's Ian's dad au

Reader is amab and is referred to as daddy

You can't believe you're doing this. You've always liked Ian but you can't tell how much of this night is being pushed along by your heart and how much Jean's strings are pulling you by the dick. Either way there's no backing out now, not when Ian looks so beautiful underneath you, his gaze hazy and fuck drunk from a simple heated make out session. Though, how simple could you really call it when both of you are straining against your pants

You can't help but stare at his bulge, christ, your friend was hung this whole fuckin time? "I-I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't, I-I mean I liked it, fuck I loved it, but we don't have to, you don't have to-hha!" Your hand gently grazes his thigh as you ask him what he wants "I...you, I-I want you, please, please fuck me, I'll be-be good just please, I need your cock" You can't help the little shock you feel as you hear him, with how clumsy he usually is with his words you never expected him to be so good at begging

He's so desperate for your dick, how could you ever say no? You help him out of his clothes and he helps you with yours before grabbing a bottle of lube from his nightstand. You can't help but smile, leaving his bitch mom really has been good for him, even the sight of a lube container would have made the Ian you knew in high school faint. You slowly work him up to two fingers, scissoring them to open him up just a little further, making sure to try and hit his prostate with every thrust

He's so cute like this, bucking his ass down on your fingers, trying to push you even deeper "Fuck~ Please, more daddy" Ian freezes as soon as it slips out, eyes wide and already filling with tears at his mistake "Sorry, oh god I'm so sorry, I-I didn't mean to, I-" He's cut off by you replacing your fingers with the head of your cock brushing against him. You tell him not to worry, telling him that if he's going to call you that he might as well scream it

Ian nods frantically, his hips already bucking down to try and force you to take him "Yes, yes I will, I'll be your good little whore, please, fuck me daddy!" You just can't help it, you slam into him, making him take your whole length at once. It was too much for him, Ian lets out a beautiful scream as he cums all over your stomachs. After a second he whimpers "Why-why'd you stop?" You ask him if he want you to continue, the question seems to surprise him "I...yes, yes I want to. I want daddy's cum, please"

Your first time together is desperate, and passionate, and filled with love. After helping him wash up you both snuggle back into bed, his head resting softly against your chest. You look up from him to the door of his bedroom and you feel your heart crash down into your stomach. You see Jean peering in through the crack of the door, holding a single finger to his lips as he smiles at you. And in that moment you both know what this means, you can't leave either of them now, and Jean has won

[thebearer]

a horny lip thot: 18+ smut ahead minors dni

baby jude was conceived after a foot rub.

ever since queenie showed lip the importance of reflexology (tbh that scene really freaked me out and made me cringe but i was thinking about foot rubs and lip today so) he'd realized maybe it wasn't all "hippy dippy bullshit".

freddie's second birthday was two months away. you and lip were... well serious, but not married. more than boyfriend and girlfriend- it felt so juvenile to call each other that for some reason. lip had been calling you his wife since freddie was born, but you'd yet to accept his proposal.

you had a long day. your students were especially rambunctious today on a day when you were especially exhausted. ian and mickey were saints, offering to keep the kid so you and lip could have at least a dinner alone.

the dinner to the italian restaurant on the south side didn't exactly happen, instead, you were laid out on the couch with lip's hands rubbing your feet. he knew what he was doing, though he'd never admit it. it had been a while since you two had fucked, babies and busy schedules weren't kind to your sex life, and a night alone? lip wasn't wasting it.

his fingers dug into the arch of your foot, your body squirming while he worked out a "knot".

"feel good?" lip smirked, watching you squirm, legs pressed together, arm still thrown over your eyes. no fuckin' way this is actually working, lip thought.

sure enough, it did work. it worked well enough that lip got to spend the rest of the night, fucking you hard and deep into the mattress, like he used to before freddie came along and you had to be quiet. fucked you until you were sprawled on the mattress, leaking his release into a puddle under you, while he smoked next to the open window of your bedroom.

two months later, you were coming home with another ultrasound, and the news that freddie would be a big brother.

[lilac-hecox]

Hello! If you’re still accepting Ian’s Day prompts, i absolutely love ian’s adoration for animals. How he can’t help but pet and be openly affectionate to any animal near him so I was wondering if you could do an ianthony fic centered around them having a pet? It can be inspired by their previous pet or a new one entirely. Choice of pet is up to you! Also plus points if anthony spots similarities between ian and the pet and is completely fond of that (ex. Ian being orange cat coded and the pet being an orange cat)

Ian/Anthony - ianthony - Cat Dads

I wrote this based off this art done by @polterwasteist today for Ian's Day! It was too cute!

--

It was supposed to be one cat. Ian went to the rescue with every intention of adopting just one cat, maybe one that was a little bit fat, happy to crawl into his lap and watch a movie with him. He had been doing a lot of research and he had talked to Shayne and Courtney and both of them had insisted if Ian got a cat, he should adopt two, so that the one cat wouldn’t be lonely.

Ian had remained sold on the idea of one pet cat until he walked through the different rooms of the rescue. He stops and investigates a wide glass window, looking into one of the elaborate cat enrichment rooms. There are kittens playing with toys, cats sitting on high up cat trees and staring him down, some cats eating, some sleeping. Ian feels overwhelmed by the choices. He scans the room and then he sees on the cat tree nearest the window, there is a wide circular bowl, and inside that bowl are two cats curled up together, snoozing happily.

One cat is a stark deep black, the other a slightly fluffy orange cat. They sleep with their heads tilted together; arms stretched across the expanse of one another. The worker notices Ian stopping and looking into the window and she approaches him.

“Oh, did you find one you’re interested in?”

“Uh, well, these guys are really cute.”

The woman’s smile dims momentarily before she brightens again.

“They are. I do want to say, if you’re interested in either one of them…they’re a bonded pair. They’ll need to be adopted together.”

“Oh,” Ian says. “How did they become a bonded pair?”

“They were found together when they were just under a year old. They likely aren’t litter mates, but instead cats who bonded together as strays. They get very stressed out when separated. It’s caused them to stay with us a little longer than we expected, but they’re both very sweet. They love treats and affection.”

The woman says it hesitantly, like she expects Ian to get upset or lose interest in the pair of cats.

He turns back to the two cats snoozing together.

“A bonded pair, hm?” Ian says, humming softly.

-

Just a couple days later Ian, Anthony, Obsidian, and Clementine are all on Ian’s couch together. Obsidian, the black cat, is curled in Ian’s lap. Clementine is on Anthony’s lap, her one paw extended so she is touching Ian’s leg too.

Anthony laughs as he snaps a picture of Obsidian being extra cute. He turns it to show Ian.

“God, we’re the worst kind of cat parents, and it happened so fast,” Ian says with a sigh.

Anthony shrugs. “How can you not take pictures of Obsi and Clem?”

“How long till we open an Instagram for them?” Ian asks.

“Okay, let’s not go that far.”

The cats had not only warmed up immediately to Ian and his place, but Anthony as well. The four of them are often found happily curled in a cuddle pile on the couch or on Ian’s bed. Clementine favors Anthony, curling on his chest, nudging his face with her own.

Though on more than one occasion Ian has woken up with Clem curled on his back, a solid weight on him, while Obsidian is nestled between Anthony’s legs.

Obsidian bats at Anthony’s sweater sleeve and he rubs the black cat’s head. Obsidian can be a bit of a menace. He had clawed up the end of Anthony’s yoga cloth that he keeps at Ian’s place, using it as his own personal scratching post.

Meanwhile, Clementine likes to sit on the counter, likes to watch Ian cook. Anthony has scooped her up and moved her more times than he can count while she meows like he’s torturing her.

“She’s a baby, just like you,” Anthony teases, as he sets Clementine down and she trots back to Ian, slinking around his ankles.

“Well, he’s like you,” Ian says, pointing to Obsidian, whose looking out the window, watching the birds fly back and forth between the tree and the bird feeder set up in Ian’s backyard.

It’s a joke that’s gone around the office. That Ian basically adopted the cat versions of he and Anthony, a bonded pair, a set, not to be separated from one another. Ian doesn’t mind. It’s sweet. He never really saw himself as a cat person until now having Obsidian and Clementine, and it makes it all the sweeter to see Anthony love on them, to see him interact with them, spoil them with weird little treats and toys and take all kinds of videos of them.

He doesn’t mind being a weird cat dad if it means Anthony is one right alongside him.

[rosie-tyler]

Thomas Ian Griffith | One Tree Hill

[starfalldancer]

still my favorite au

(missing the second dad, but i'll draw the whole family soon)

[heart-of-the-card]

Ya da ya da ya da Sydney to the Max + college Smosh au ya da ya da ya da ya da I’m working on a comic ya da ya da ya da ya da

[sam-loves-seb]

I don’t know if you take prompts, but you write Ian and Mickey so well, it would be interesting if you write Ian reconnecting with his bio dad post canon.

hey! thanks so much for this, i do take prompts (no guarantee i write any of them) sometimes, but i have to be into the idea to actually write it, and unfortunately i have no affinity for ian and his bio dad. sorry!

[gallavich-headcanon]

Reappears days later with *checks cup* cold black coffee leftover from this morning to talk more Galladads

Ian and Mickey no speaking for two days??? with their co-dependency? I don't buy it. - ohhoho I do think they talk, of course they do, it’s them, but I think Mickey is a little unsure of how Ian is gonna take the appearance of four kids so he just…doesn’t mention it yet. Ian will be home soon and then they can talk it over so why borrow trouble? Mickey is like 78% sure it’s gonna be fine so what does it matter? Like I imagine this whole thing started as a test run for Mickey anyway

He doesn’t tell Ian that Tony is dropping off a toddler for a couple of days because Mickey wants to make sure he can do this before telling Ian bc Ian will take one look at the kid and his ovaries are gonna weep or some shit (“I don’t have ovaries, Mick.”) and that’ll be that but Mickey doesn’t wanna get Ian’s hopes up unless he knows he can do this. So. Ian and Lip are going to Florida for a weekend to do something for Fiona, which gives Mickey plenty of time to test drive this whole baby thing.

And it goes…good, actually. The kid’s not quite one and a half and small enough to just pick up and move when needed. She can’t work doors yet, or reach the stove, but she can point at things she wants and make word-like sounds to tell him when she’s hungry or bored or whatever. Once he realizes “Ba” means bottle, “na” means no, and “ya” means basically everything else, they’re kinda golden. Mickey gives her some red plastic cups to play with and she’s occupied for a couple of hours just stacking the things up and knocking them over. Easy. He texts Tony that he’s keeping her and it’s done. Mickey can’t wait to see the soft, dopey look on Ian’s face when he opens the door holding their little girl. That’s late Saturday afternoon.

Ten o’clock Saturday night, after Mickey’s figured out how to put the bed thing Tony dropped off together and the little one’s conked out, he’s just got off the phone with Ian and had to physically bite his lips not the ruin the damn surprise when there’s a knock on the door. It’s Colin’s girlfriend, or is it ex-girlfriend? (Colin got life for armed robbery while Mickey was in Mexico and Mick’s not 100% sure where Natalia stands on commitment) It’s Natalia and two kids about Franny’s age, boys he thinks, and a couple of suspiciously large garbage bags that Mickey will quickly learn is filled with toys, random clothes, and a file folder containing highly illegal fake birth certificates with his name on them. Mickey whisper argues with Natalia for a good twenty minutes but then the toddler wakes up and in the time it takes him to go grab her from the bedroom and come back, Natalia’s gone and the boys are yawning on the couch. Sucker punched. It’s too late to do anything so the boys get set up on the couch, the little one goes back in the bedroom and Mickey gets a beer. He thinks about texting Iggy, the only one who stays in contact with Colin (who the fuck gets arrested in Iowa?) but it’s late so he texts Ian g’night and goes to bed. He’ll figure it out in the morning.

The morning brings a text from Ian saying they’re about to board the plane again and the airport reception is shitty which is probably a good thing because it means Mickey doesn’t have to figure out how to get three kids to shut the fuck up while he’s on the phone. Breakfast is a hassle but the boys can talk at least, and there was a box of Cocoa Puffs in one of the garbage bags so at least everybody eats. (If Ian had been there, he might have cautioned against pure sugar for breakfast, especially since Mickey let them have soda as well but Ian is dealing with air travel and gate changes and Lip so he has his own problems.)

The sugar high is rough going but Mickey’s got this. It’s a bit like dealing with Franny mixed with being in jail. The trick is to make everybody think you’re on their side. Your brother stole your action figure? Let’s get him. The little one starts crying when she can’t run as fast as the boys? Cool, nobody’s allowed to run. Hey, look, cartoons! By lunch, all three are passed out on the floor watching some brightly colored show and Mickey’s ordered pizza and chicken poppers for lunch. He’s got this. Ian might be a little thrown by three kids instead of one but eh, they’re both from big families. They can cram some bunk beds at the end of the hallway if they take the door off the hall closet. What little boys don’t like bunk beds? The surprise is still on.

The knock on the door isn’t the pizza however. It’s a milk crate. Specifically a milk crate of formula, diapers, and tiny tiny clothes with the smallest baby Mickey’s ever seen balanced on top. She’s tiny enough that when Mickey picks her up he can cup her head in one hand and she lays neatly along his arm, minuscule toes just barely reaching the crook of his elbow. Ian could probably hold her in one giant paw alone. Mickey feels like he’s gonna break her if he thinks too hard. This is an actual baby. A baby-baby. She can’t say “Ba” when she’s hungry or point at the tv when she’s bored. She can’t loudly announce she has to go potty or yell “me first!” and try and beat her brother to the john. She needs him to do all that for her, to know all that, to be good at all that and Mickey is terrified.

But she starts to fuss, just gentle little sounds, and one itty bitty hand flails out and he catches it without thinking. Tiny fingers latch on to his bigger one and squeeze tight, grip much stronger than he’d have guessed, and holy shit, she’s settling down again, seemingly just needing to hold on to Mickey to know she’s okay.

He kicks the crate inside and sits at the table, gingerly laying her down on it in front of him. She looks like Joey a bit, meaning she looks like Mandy too, both of them looking more like Laura than Terry or Terry’s brother Sam. He eases off the stained pink cap and sees a shock of black hair. The boys have Colin’s dirty blond curls, and the little one must have gotten her mom’s reddish-brown locks but the baby has the same jet black hair Mickey does. He blows out a breath and the baby scrunches her nose up.

Someone knocks on the door again, pizza this time, thank god, and then the boys are awake and demanding ketchup for the chicken and burning their mouths on the pizza even though Mickey told them to wait, damn it, and the little one is reaching small hands up onto the counter for “Ba! Ba!” and in the chaos, Mickey doesn’t hear his text alert go off once, twice, four times as Ian’s messages come through that they’re ‘delayed but okay’ and ‘want Chinese for dinner’ and ‘hey everything okay?’

Somewhere between shutting down a ketchup fight, eating two bits of pizza himself, and taking the batteries out of the remote so the little one stops pressing random buttons while the boys yell about Transformers, he googles how to change a diaper and then has to clean up pee off the table when the baby decides she just can’t wait for a new one. Mickey shoots Ian a thumbs up before he tosses the phone onto the top of the fridge because Nicky and Tommy might not know what “don’t wake the baby or she’ll scream” means but they absolutely know what an iPhone is and they wanna play with his every time they catch sight of it. Mickey feels like maybe he never gave Fiona enough credit because he’s about ready to go back to prison but at least he’s not trying to raise Carl.

He misses Ian’s call when they land, misses the ‘on the way home’ text, misses Lip’s ‘yo Ian’s doing that thing where he’s not worried but he’s worried, ya wanna answer your phone’ message. Turns out feeding a baby includes burping a baby or they just puke it back up. Also she may be unbelievable small but the baby must be 90% lungs because when she decides she’s not happy, she makes damn sure everybody’s knows it. The baby crying sets off the little one crying, and the boys don’t cry but they do start fighting each other for no visible reason so Mickey kinda has his hands full.

More cartoons, more pizza, and a bold-faced lie about being out of soda gets Mickey to four o’clock Sunday by the skin of his teeth. There’s another knock on the door and if there’s anyone under the age of sixteen on the other side, Mickey’s going to Canada, because fuck it.

The person on the other side is Mickey’s definitely over sixteen husband. He looks tired and frowny and he’s holding a bag of fried rice and egg rolls and if Mickey were a different man, he call him an angel but this Mickey has had to piss since the Great Diaper Blowout of 2 PM so he just (gently) thrusts the thankfully happy baby at his husband and makes a beeline for the bathroom and it’s locking door.

He hopes Ian brought enough egg rolls.

(Look what you made me do, does this count as fic? Lol 🦖)

HOLY FUCK 🦖 ANON I am speechless!

1,631 words 8,643 characters

(“I don’t have ovaries, Mick.”)-> cracked me up!

So just Tony's toddler at first. He can handle her. Maybe he doesn't even think Tony is really going to leave them forever you know, maybe Mickey thinks he might change his mind in a couple of days, you know? No need to freak Ian out for no reason if Tony will come back tomorrow, right?

Then he got Colin's two boys, Nicky and Tommy, around Franny's age. Okay. At least Franny will have kids her age to play with for once. Awesome.

there was a box of Cocoa Puffs in one of the garbage bags so at least everybody eats. -> 🦖 ANON this is too fucking funny. For no reason.

The trick is to make everybody think you’re on their side. -> Mickey is smart like that! He is a surviver!

The knock on the door isn’t the pizza however. It’s the smallest baby girl Mickey’s ever seen. -> oh oh! Well at least Mickey had some practice with newborns when he raised Yevgeny (or is there no Yevgeny in this AU?) Wait- is the baby Mandy's or Joey's? this is so stressful and the babies aren't even mine!

Lip’s ‘yo Ian’s doing that thing where he’s not worried but he’s worried, ya wanna answer your phone’ message -> this is the most canon thing ever.

Ian showing up, gets handed a baby, finding 3 kids in his living room and his husband just ran off. Ian is a better person than I am, because I would walk right out of that mess and eat my fucking spring rolls on the way back to the airport.

This is literally a mini fic. A solid one shot. I have just received a one-shot in my inbox. I love my life.

[gardenerian]

Happy Happy Birthday!!! May I offer this pic of Noel holding a sweet ginger kitty as a gift??

lisaaa how cute is this! cat dad mickey is very important to me, and silly ginger kitties are ALSO very important to me! so i am very pleased 🥰 you are so very sweet to think of me today and send such a delightful lil photo!

[dreamwritesimagines]

The Eye of the Hurricane [10] - Family Dinner

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: Happy news can make a dinner so much better.

Word Count: 3800

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

“I’m sorry, did you just say marriage?”

You sipped your coffee before shooting Becca and Sarah a grin, then popped a piece of your croissant in your mouth.

“Mm hm.”

“You’re getting married to-to my—” Becca stammered. “To my brother?”

“Yeah,” you said and looked around. “Do you guys think we should get mimosas?”

“What the fuck?!” Becca exclaimed. “Since when?”

“It’d better be this morning, Y/N,” Sarah said and you shrugged your shoulders.

“Technically around 48 hours ago.”

Becca gawked at you. “Y/N, I’m going to kill you.”

“Listen, I didn’t—” you waved your hands in the air. “I figured you’d want to hear it in person! It’s kind of a big deal, you know?”

“Jesus Christ…”

“Wait, start from the beginning,” Sarah said. “How did that happen?”

“I had a talk with my dad,” you said, biting inside your cheek. “He’s going to choose Ian.”

Sarah frowned while Becca pulled back slightly.

“He made up his mind?”

“Mm hm.”

“You’re sure you can’t convince him?”

You shook your head.

“No,” you said, your stomach doing a tense flip. “I thought I could but…he was very clear. He will not name me his heir, it’s going to be Ian.”

“That will mess everything up,” Becca said. “Including the truce, because—”

“Bucky won’t do business with him, neither will Sam or Steve,” you finished her sentence for her. “I told my father that but it didn’t even make him think twice.”

“Great,” Sarah muttered, and you shook your head.

“It doesn’t matter what he thinks,” you said. “I’m done waiting around for him to give me a chance. If he doesn’t want to give me power, I’ll take it for myself.”

“And that’s where Bucky enters the picture?”

“Exactly,” you said. “He will give me a way in, and once everything is in place I’ll take over.”

“Before Ian can?”

You nodded your head. “I’ll force my dad’s hand if I have to.”

“He’s not going to like it,” Becca sang in a teasing manner and you scoffed.

“It’s either that or we risk another war between the families,” you said. “To be honest with you, I don’t really care whether he likes it or not anymore. I’m the firstborn and it’s my right, he promised it to me all those years ago.”

“What happens when you take over though?” Sarah asked. “You and Bucky…?”

“We’ll get a divorce.”

Becca arched a brow and suppressed a smile. “Just like that?”

“Yeah, why not?” you said. “He doesn’t want to stay married to me a minute longer than it’s necessary, and I share the sentiment.”

Becca exchanged a knowing glance with Sarah, her smile widening before she turned to you.

“If you say so,” she muttered, taking a sip of her coffee and as if on cue, your phone started vibrating on the table. You checked the name on the screen, then answered it.

“Yeah?”

“Hi there, fiancée.”

You could already tell he was smiling from the tone of his voice and you rolled your eyes, then motioned at Becca and Sarah to give you a moment before getting up from your seat to walk out of the restaurant.

“What do you want?” you asked and he tsk tsked.

“Babe…”

“Don’t call me that.”

“My beautiful wife?”

“Don’t call me that either.”

“Mrs. Barnes?”

“There’s going to be another last name there as well, don’t forget about that one,” you said. “It’s hyphenated.”

“Yeah, for some reason…” he grumbled and you heaved a sigh.

“Is there a point to this conversation? Because if there isn’t, I’m going to hang up now.”

“Yeah,” he said. “There is actually. Before tonight’s dinner, I just figured you’d want to know that your father knows.”

Your eyes widened. “You told him about the engagement?”

“What? No!” he said quickly. “But he knows we’re together.”

“Except we’re not.”

“Well fine, he knows we’ve been spending time in the honeymoon suit.”

You leaned back to the wall and pinched the bridge of your nose before clearing your throat.

“He called you?”

“Not yet but my parents did.”

“That sounds like a fun conversation,” you said, smiling slightly. “What did they say?”

Bucky chuckled.

“My mom just asked how you were,” he said. “That’s her being subtle. And my dad told me to not fuck it up so, went as expected. Arthur didn’t call you?”

“He did, I just didn’t answer,” you said, pursing your lips together. “I don’t want to talk to him yet, so…”

“But are you going to be okay tonight?” he asked and you pulled your brows together.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Can I not ask about your wellbeing?”

“No,” your reply came way too fast. “That’s not on the prenup.”

“Jesus Christ…” he muttered and you checked your watch, then pushed yourself off the wall.

“So you’re going to the restaurant before me then?”

“Yeah, I think it’d be better if I got on your father’s good side before that conversation,” he said. “Considering I didn’t even give him a heads up—unless you want to go together?”

You scrunched up your nose. “Absolutely not,” you said. “Playing the dumbass in love will be even more difficult if I spend more than an hour with you.”

“I think you like spending time with me,” he said with a teasing tone and you scoffed.

“I’m hanging up now,” you said. “Don’t be late tonight.”

“Of course, wife.”

“Stop calling me that!” you snapped and hung up, then let out a breath.

“I can’t believe I’m marrying this asshole…” you murmured to yourself, then made your way back into the restaurant.

                                                 *

Tonight’s dinner was not going to be very easy to handle, you could already tell. Becca had always been too good at reading your mood, so as soon as you two stepped out of the car, she reached out to hold your hand, making you turn your head.

“It’ll be fine,” she said before you could even say anything and you licked your lips.

“It makes it official,” you muttered. “All of it.”

Becca paused for a moment, then shrugged her shoulders.

“What does it matter?” she asked. “If you’re going to get a divorce eventually…”

“Of course we will,” you said. “But it’s not just that, you know? Starting tonight, I’m going against everything my dad wants.”

Becca nodded her head.

“You are,” she said airily. “But if he didn’t want you to take over eventually, he shouldn’t have raised you as his heir to begin with. That shit is not a game, he can’t just change his mind.”

You pursed your lips together, keeping your eyes on the restaurant.

“People won’t be happy about it,” you muttered. “Me being an actual rival, or taking over.”

 “You’re the firstborn,” she reminded you. “It’s your right. And that’s what you want, so fuck what everyone else will think. You’re going to do amazing.”

You stole a look at him, fear churning your insides.

“You think so?” you rasped out, desperate to hear it out loud and Becca nodded fervently.

“I wouldn’t be here if I thought you couldn’t pull it off,” she said. “You’re going to be much better than your father. Trust me.”

You squeezed her hand. “Thanks Becca.”

“Keep in mind how helpful I am when you’re picking your bridesmaid gown colors,” she said, making you let out a laugh. “Friendly reminder, I don’t like lilac.”

“I know, I know…” you told her, throwing an arm over her shoulder to press a kiss on her cheek, then you both walked into the restaurant.

As usual, either your father or Bucky’s father had it closed down for the night so that you all could enjoy your dinner without any strangers around. The hostess greeted you and led you to your usual table which was already occupied by Bucky’s family and yours. Your father stood up as soon as he saw you and made his way to you.

“Good luck,” Becca muttered and smiled at him. “Hi Arthur!”

“Becca my dear, welcome!” your father said as she kissed his cheek.

“I’m starving already,” she said and went to sit down while your father turned to you.

“So?” he said. “You cannot pick up the phone, Y/N?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I was busy.”

“Really?” he asked. “Too busy to send a text?”

You shrugged your shoulders again, pursing your lips together and he heaved a sigh.

“Sweetheart…” he said. “I don’t like this, you know that. I understand that we can have our disagreements but moving out of the house?”

“I didn’t move out of the house,” you said. “My stuff is still there.”

“But you’re not staying there?”

“I felt like a change of scenery.”

“Is that all?” he asked and you cleared your throat.

“Sort of.”

“Because what I’ve been hearing…” he said. “Not to mention, both you and Bucky planning this dinner?”

“I think we should wait for him to have this conversation—where is he anyway?” you asked, looking around the restaurant and your father frowned slightly.

“We thought you two were coming together.”

“He’s late?” you asked, nervousness shooting through you and your father waved a hand in the air.

“There’s a reason for that I’m sure,” he said. “Come on, sit down. We started already.”

“Great,” you muttered to yourself and followed him to the table and waved at Bucky’s parents Winnifred and George.

“Y/N, hello!” Winnifred stood up to hug you and you hugged her back before pulling back to wave at George.

“We were going to wait for you but you know how your father is,” Winnifred said and your father chuckled, gesturing surrender.

“I don’t mind,” you said, sitting down next to Becca as you nodded in Ian’s direction. “Ian.”

“Y/N.”

“So, what is this dinner about?” George asked and Winnifred shot him a look.

“George.”

“What? I’m curious. You would think this is a life-and-death situation the way Bucky talked about it.”

“I think we should uh…we should wait for him for that one,” you said and turned to the waiter who filled your glass.

“The chef is preparing your usual, ma'am."

“Thank you,” you said and sat up straighter while George smiled at Becca.

“Do you know what this is about?”

“Of course,” Becca said with a smile. “But I’m special.”

“Will this dinner take long?” Ian asked you, checking his phone. “I have plans for 10.”

“You’re welcome to leave,” you told him but before he could retort, Becca waved at someone by the entrance and you looked over your shoulder to see Bucky walk into the restaurant. You cleared your throat, then pushed your seat back.

“Excuse me for a moment,” you said and made your way to him.

“Charm, hey—”

“With me,” you said without even stopping and he turned around to follow you out of the restaurant, and you whirled around on your heels the moment you stepped outside, raising your brows at him.

“Are you serious right now?” you asked. “You were supposed to be here before me, that was the plan!”

“Okay, I know I’m late but in my defense—”

“No no, you said—”

“Job got in the way, I didn’t even get the chance to change,” he cut you off and raised his wrist so that you could see the sleeve of his white shirt. “I still have blood on my sleeve, look!”

“Do I look like your drycleaner from where you’re standing?” you snapped back in a whisper. “You said you’d come before me, and considering your relationships I’d say you’re used to that!”

He rolled his eyes. “To repeat, job got in the way.”

“You’re late to dinner because you were too busy punching someone and that’s a good excuse?”

“It was necessary!”

“It was necessary for it to be you punching that person, is that right?”

“Excuse me, lovebirds,” Becca’s voice reached you and you both turned to look at her as she leaned sideways to the entrance. “Have your fight later on, they’re getting restless.”

You ran a hand over your face.

“Alright,” you said. “So okay, when are we telling them?”

“My plate is already there and I’d rather if you did it right away,” Becca said, pointing back with her thumb. “They don’t look like they’ll stop asking what this dinner is about anytime soon.”

“You just don’t want mom to ask you about Leila,” Bucky told her and Becca shrugged her shoulders.

“I mean would it kill you to do something nice for me?” she asked, making him shake his head slightly. You bit back a smile and threw your shoulders back, trying to get rid of the tension in your body.

“Let’s get this over with,” you muttered more to yourself and made your way back to the table with Becca and Bucky following you.

“Good evening,” Bucky greeted everyone at the table with a smile. “Sorry I was late, it’s just…work.”

Becca went to sit down on her seat as you eyed your food, but stood beside Bucky, clenching and unclenching your fist just so that you could focus on something else other than the nervousness pulsing in your veins.

“Is everything alright?” Winnifred asked Bucky and he nodded his head.

“Oh yeah, two meetings clashed,” he lied, subtly rolling the sleeve of his shirt up. “There was a moment of chaos but it’s fixed.”

“So can we learn what this whole secrecy and emergency dinner is about now?” George said with a knowing smile and you stole a look at your father who looked almost impatient. Knowing them, every single person at the table except Becca thought Bucky and you were about to tell them you were dating, so you were sure that the news was going to be completely unexpected for all of them.

“Yeah,” you said, reminding yourself to smile as you leaned sideways to Bucky’s arm. “You can. Sorry about the secrecy, we just wanted it to be a surprise.”

Ian scoffed a small laugh.

“You staying in a hotel in his territory might have ruined that surprise,” he said and Bucky’s eyes narrowed but you elbowed him while your father gave Ian a warning glare, making him sit up straighter.

“So uh, it happened very recently,” you said, ignoring Ian. “And normally you would have heard beforehand.”

“For which I take full responsibility,” Bucky added with a smirk. “That’s on me.”

“I mean you know we’ve had this…strange dynamic for a while.”

“Ten years,” Becca muttered into her wine glass. “Not that anyone is counting.”

“But once we actually talked to each other, something happened,” you lied through your teeth, Bucky’s arm snaking around your waist as he nuzzled to the top of your head, making your heart skip a beat but you forced yourself to remember that it was all an act. Winnifred pressed a hand on her chest as if she was lost in her emotions while your father and George exchanged glances, both smiling slightly.

“And I hope that you’ll be happy for us,” you said and waited for a second, then cleared your throat. “Because we’re getting married.”

The impact of your words was immediate and very visible. Ian’s head shot up as Winnifred gasped in shock and your father’s eyes widened while George’s jaw dropped. Becca stifled a laugh, taking another sip of her wine as she leaned back in her seat.

“Married?!” Winnifred exclaimed as she jumped on her feet. “Oh thank God, this is the best news I could ever hope for!”

“Trust me mom, I was as surprised as you are,” Bucky said with a chuckle while Winnifred pulled you into a tight hug and your father tried to pull himself together.

“Married?” he repeated and you nodded when Winnifred pulled back to hug Bucky.

“Yeah.”

“That’s…uh—” your father stammered. “That’s wonderful news honey but you two have been dating for what? Two days?”

“Three days,” you said helpfully and Bucky hissed in a breath.

“I was going to get your permission, Arthur.”

“Why didn’t you?” your father asked him, looking him in the eye but Bucky didn’t look intimidated in the slightest.

“Oh come on Arthur, don’t be so traditional!” George said with a laugh. “They’re in love, and it’s not like they met three days ago. They’ve known each other their whole lives, I for one have been hoping for this to happen for almost ten years!”

“And we already know we want to spend the rest of our lives together.”

“Speaking of, where’s the ring?” Winnifred asked, making you and Bucky exchange glances before you turned to her.

Shit.

Of course he was supposed to have proposed with a ring.

“The ring!” you said. “Right, uh…Bucky?”

Bucky swallowed thickly and waved a hand in the air.

“The ring, that’s—that’s a funny story actually,” he said. “You see, we um—”

“My overly confident brother didn’t bother asking the best friend,” Becca cut him off airily, pointing at herself. “Surprise surprise; it was the wrong size. We went to the jewelers today to get it fixed, they said it’ll be ready within the week.”

Dear God, you loved Becca.

You subtly mouthed ‘thank you’ to her while George stood up to come closer to you.

“Congratulations son,” he said as he pulled him into a hug to slap him on the back. “You sure took your time. And Y/N, welcome to the family sweetheart.”

“Congratulations,” Ian said from where he was sitting and your father sighed, then stood up to hug you.

“We still need to talk about this,” he said. “But I’m very happy for you two.”

“Thanks dad,” you muttered as the waiters brought your food and you all sat down. You took your fork into your hand and George raised his glass.

“To happy couple!”

You and Bucky raised your glasses as well and your father took a sip of his drink, then leaned back in his seat.

“See, Y/N,” he said. “I know you’re still a bit angry at me but I told you. This right here will make you much happier than what we talked about earlier. That’s what matters.”

You arched a brow as Bucky turned to look at you better with a smirk and you stole a glance at him, a sly smile curling your lips as well.

Oh.

Of course your father naively believed that something as trivial as marriage could keep you from what you wanted. It was almost condescending at this point but you managed to hold back the retort, then clicked your tongue.

“Oh yeah,” you said, making Bucky chuckle. “I have a very clear idea of what’s actually important now, and I’ll make sure everyone else sees that as well.”

                                        *

When it was time to leave the restaurant, everyone was in a wonderful mood. Winnifred had so many ideas about the wedding, and as far as you could tell, your father had gotten over the annoyance of Bucky not having asked for his permission.

“So, are you coming home?” he asked you as George and Winnifred’s car drove off and you looked at Bucky who was talking to Becca by her car.

“Maybe later,” you said with a shake of your head. “Me and Bucky have things to talk about, so…”

Your father hummed.

“Alright,” he said. “What do you say we grab lunch tomorrow then?”

You thought for a moment, then shifted your weight.

“Sure, why not?”

“Good,” he said and hugged you. “You know I don’t like it when we fight.”

You pursed your lips together. “I know, I know...”

“I’ll see you tomorrow honey, please be careful,” he said and got in the car while Ian seemed to be in a deep discussion with Ryan. Ryan’s gaze found you over Ian’s shoulder and you offered him a small smile, then turned your head when you heard Becca say your name.

“Y/N are we meeting tomorrow?”

“Yeah after lunch,” you answered. “I’ve just promised my dad I’d have lunch with him, so…”

She nodded. “Okay, I’ll text you then?”

“Sounds great!” you said as she got into her car and the driver closed her door before getting into the driver’s seat. You looked into your purse, then let out a groan when you couldn’t find your phone.

“Great,” you muttered and made your way into the restaurant, the waiter stopping in his tracks the moment he saw you.

“Ma’am?”

“Hi again, I left my phone at the table,” you told him with a small laugh and he nodded.

“I’ll get it for you right away,” he said and went inside, then in a minute he was back with your phone. “Here.”

“Thank you so much,” you said. “Have a nice night!”

“You too ma’am,” he said and you left the restaurant again, then frowned as soon as you saw Ian talking to Bucky by his car while Ryan waited with Ian’s other bodyguards close by. You took a step towards them but neither of them seemed to notice you, and judging by the stern look in Bucky’s eyes, it wasn’t because they were having a fun conversation.

“…And that’s what she wants in case she didn’t tell you,” Ian said and Bucky narrowed his eyes at him.

“I know that.”

Ian shook his head slightly. “Don’t get me wrong, but—”

“Let me stop you right there Ian,” Bucky said, glaring daggers at him. “You’re not going to say anything that I might get wrong about the woman I love.”

Your stomach did a happy flip but you quickly frowned at yourself. It was just Bucky selling this whole idea that you were in love; it wasn’t as if you and he could ever fall in love or anything.

Even the thought of it was absolutely absurd.

You cleared your throat to announce you were there and they both turned to look at you.

“Hey babe,” Bucky said. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” you said without even sparing a glance at Ian as the driver opened the car door for you and you got in with Bucky following you suit. You massaged your temples, then leaned your head back when the driver started the car.

“You okay?” Bucky asked and you gritted your teeth, crossing your arms over your chest.

“The way my dad talks to me…” you muttered and Bucky scoffed a dry laugh.

“I know,” he said. “Trust me, I get it.”

“I don’t think you do,” you rasped out. “George never underestimated you or replaced you with another heir.”

That made him pause for a moment, a dark shadow crossing his eyes before he took a deep breath.

“No worries Charm,” he said. “He won’t get to underestimate you again once you get that crown.”

You felt a small smile curl your lips as you turned your gaze to the city lights outside, then heaved a sigh.

“Yeah,” you murmured. “I like the sound of that.”

Chapter 11

[threadsun]

Content: abuse, manipulation, intoxication, dubcon/noncon, dad kink/incestplay, honestly idk how to describe this other than that it's fucked up

Thinking about Jean and Ian in the Ian's Dad AU and I can’t stop thinking about how messed up it is from Ian’s perspective!! Like imagine…

Look, you've spent 18 years being raised by your abusive single mother. She never gave you love, you were never enough for her, she made you feel guilty about everything. Getting gifts, having sexual urges, being queer. She never let you have your freedom, always trying to control your every move and keeping an eye on you.

You live in a big mansion in the rich part of town, but she refuses to spend any more than necessary on you. She doesn’t let you meet your rich neighbours because she’s worried you’ll befriend them and they’ll lead you astray. And she’s always telling you horror stories about the actor who lives next door. About how he doesn't care about anything, how he's a sexual deviant, how he spends lavishly unlike your mother's painful frugality. Everything she says to try to keep you away from him only makes him sound better. He sounds like the friend you never had and the dad you always wanted, and he’s an actor like you want to be on top of everything!

And when you turn 18 and enter your rebellious phase... well, look. You know he's famous. You know he’s probably been warned away from talking to you by your mother (really, you can't blame him for listening, knowing what she's like). And you know he probably doesn't want his neighbour’s kid just calling him up out of the blue. But... you've gotta try! This is your one chance at having a mentor for your acting! And maybe a father-figure too…

And when you reach out and actually get a response? When he wants to meet you? It's like you're in a dream. You meet up with him and he's... really cool! Super nice, laid back, interested in you. He asks all the right questions, learns about you, listens to you vent about your home life. He tells you stories about his work and gives you advice about becoming an actor.

And he's... well, look, you've never been able to explore sexual attraction, especially not towards men. And he's everything you want to be! All the parts of yourself you actually like seem to be so prominent in him. All the things that your mother hates. It's all him! And sure you feel a little weird about it, I mean you’ve only just met the guy. But... he’s so welcoming and kind. You're an adult, and for the first time in your life you’re feeling appreciated... And god he's so nice and generous when he takes you under his wing, showering you with gifts and taking you out to fancy places and encouraging your rebellion rather than stifling it.

Sure, he's a little more handsy than you'd expected a mentor to be. Little pats on the ass or pecks on the lips. But, well, he's French. That's just what they're like! So of course you're going to move in with him when he offers you a spare room at his place so he can mentor you more often. It's even nicer than your mother's house and he's not always hovering around. He lets you do whatever you please when you’re not learning from him and he never monitors you. You can go out with friends and invite people over and lock your door so you can jack off to some hentai without your mother bursting in and lecturing you about how sex is a tool of the devil!

He always encourages you to try new things. You'd always been a little curious about drugs. Nothing hard, no you're not that kind of guy. But maybe some weed? And of course your cool mentor can hook you up with some! But... he's a responsible mentor. He tells you that you can smoke but your first time has to be with only him. So you don't get too high or taken advantage of. And you trust him, of course you trust him, he's given you every reason to!

So you let him set the mood. Low lights, flickering candles, some weird artsy movie on the massive tv in the lounge, plenty of snacks (oysters, chocolate covered strawberries, even some alcohol but you're pretty sure that's just for him. He wouldn't get you crossfaded for your first time...), and the fattest blunt you've ever seen. Also the only blunt you've ever seen so... really, when he assures you it's perfect for a beginner, why wouldn't you trust him?

So you settle in and he lights up the blunt. He asks if you know what shotgunning is, tells you it's the best way for a beginner to get used to smoking. It's... weird. When his lips actually linger on yours more than the usual little goodbye kisses. When his tongue forces your lips apart to blow the smoke into your mouth. But... all those nerves and weird feelings settle pretty quick.

The more smoke he blows into your mouth, the more relaxed you get. The more you let him feed you snacks. The more you let his hands wander. By the time you're actually pulling from the blunt, you can barely tell which way is up. You feel him tip your head back and pour some wine into your mouth. He's always going on and on about vintages and whether or not it's dry and what aftertaste it has. But all you can ever taste is soured, bitter grapes. But this time you don't mind so much. Not when he's taking a gulp of it himself and feeding that into your mouth this time.

It's the first time you've been touched like this, kissed like this. It feels good, his soft lips on yours, the way he pays such gentle attention to you, the way he grinds on your lap and pulls your hair while forcing more smoke and alcohol into you. You're in a haze of pleasure and Jean is right there at the centre. And him being your mentor is the furthest thing from your mind.

You don't remember much about that night. Or, anything really. You wake up sore in places you've never been sore before. But also feeling blissful. Your muscles feel more relaxed than they ever have, and you don't feel the usual crushing weight of your lust hanging over your head. Jean simply smiles at you when you go into the kitchen the next morning, and asks if you enjoyed the night before. You tell him you did and he promises you two can do it more often. As a bonding experience. Maybe make it a monthly thing? You’re like a son to him, after all!

And god does that sound nice to you. Having a parental figure who wants to bond with you. A person who likes spending time with you. A person who encourages you to try new things. He promises to bring edibles as well next time, and reminds you with a wink that if you ever want to try any other drugs, he can get his hands on them for you. But, of course, same rules apply. Your first time doing them has to be with him.

Really, you're not sure why you'd want to do drugs with anyone else. You've seen the people at the parties he's taken you to, far too rowdy for your liking. So you stick to doing drugs and drinking with Jean only. It's the only time he's handsy. The only time his lips stay on yours. And you hardly remember it anyway. It all blurs together with the dreams you keep having about him. The ones that leave you in a cold sweat, with an uncomfortable boner, wondering if it's normal for people to dream about someone they see like a father whispering sweet nothings in their ear while they fuck them. You're pretty sure it's not, but... really how would you know?

And finally one sober night, you hear your door creak open. You hear footsteps, see a sliver of light from the hallway on your wall, feel someone getting into bed behind you. You move to sit up, but a warm arm wraps around you and a familiar voice whispers in your ear. Jean reassures you that it's okay, it's just him, he just wants to cuddle. And that's normal, isn't it? Fathers cuddling their sons. Sure, no matter how much you both talk about wishing you were father and son, he’s your mentor not your father. And sure, maybe you're a bit old for it even if he was your father. But it’s probably just some sort of acting thing anyway! So you settle back down and enjoy the feeling of his arms around you, trying to keep your hormones under control.

His hands wander a little, thumb rubbing circles on your hips as his lips press lightly against your neck. You have to bite your pillow to keep from whimpering, willing yourself not to make things weird. But his hand slips from your hip and curls around your hard cock and your heart drops. But he reassures you once more, just a gentle murmur in your ear, promising that it's okay. That it's perfectly natural.

His hand palms you slowly as he whispers sympathetic words about how badly your mother screwed you up and how it's up to him to make you better. How he feels so bad about your sexual repression, how he can see just how much you're suffering, that he knows how badly you need this. You're still trying to muffle your sounds with the pillow, but your hips roll against his hand and it feels so good. And he knows. He knows your mother never let you touch yourself. Never let you indulge your desires. You told him so yourself. And he promises you that it's okay. That this is healthy and normal. That she fucked you up, broke you, but he's here to fix you.

He talks to you so gently, like a wounded animal, as he helps you cum. He's so... understanding. And he reassures you that it's normal. That it's okay. That this is what fathers do for their sons. It doesn’t even strike you as odd, that he’s calling you two that. It feels right. And when you finally let out a moan and cum against his hand, making a mess of your pyjamas... he praises you. He tells you how well you did for him, what a good son you are, how happy he is to see you getting better already! And he promises to keep helping…

It happens night after night, each time something slightly different. He turns you over the next night, kisses you so sweetly that you feel like you might melt into him. His tongue is coaxing and his hands slip into your pants to touch you properly. And you wonder how you'll ever be able to touch yourself again when you know it'll never compare to his touch. Then he uses his mouth on you, shows you how skilled his tongue is down there as well. Then he's working a finger, two fingers, three into you.

He teaches you how to please him, as well. Urges you under the covers and teaches you how to go down on him without too much teeth. Trains you not to gag when he thrusts into your mouth and to swallow when he cums down your throat. He presses his cock between your thighs and fucks them so sweetly, hands groping and lips finally leaving marks on you. And then finally, he makes love to you. There's no other way to say it. It's such a sweet, soft, gentle thing. His hips rocking behind you as he spoons you, holding you to his chest and praising you for learning so fast, for being such a good boy for him. And when you feel him cum inside of you, your hips stutter into his hand and you cum too. And you feel loved for the first time in your life.

And that's when you start to learn who your mentor really is. There's no more of the coddling, the sweetness, the love. No, you're his personal free-use whore. He clicks his fingers and you get on your knees for him, ready to take whatever he has to give. He makes you call him dad, starts calling you his son. He introduces you to kinks you've never even heard of, takes all his anger out on your pretty body in the most sadistic ways, trains you into his perfect pet. He fucks you and beats you and makes you his cumdump.

And if you ever try to stop it, ever try to refuse, ever correct people who mistake you for a real father and son... he reminds you of all those nights you spent baked out of your mind. He shows you all the pictures he took of the disgusting, perverted things you let him do to you when you didn't even remember your own name. He promises to leak them to the press if you ever stop. His career is just about over, but yours? Yours is only just beginning. This could ruin you.

But... honestly? You don't want to stop. You don't want to go back to living with your mother. You don't want to return to a life where you feel guilty for wanting sex, where you never feel satisfied, where you always feel like a deviant. You don’t want to go back to not having a father. You want to be wanted by him. You want to keep feeling good, and god does he make you feel good. His insults and humiliation get you hard, but his rare praise makes you desperate to come back for more. You know it's wrong, you know he's a bad person, you know it needs to stop.

But... you don't stop it. You can't stop it. Not when it feels so... good isn't quite the right word. But it feels like everything you deserve. It's the best you'll ever get. And you need to grab onto that before it slips away.

Until. Until you make the mistake of bringing a friend over for once. You've tried to keep everyone else away from Jean. Keep him to yourself. You're not sure if it's selfish or selfless, wanting to keep that cruel attention on you alone. But you can't say no to your childhood best friend. Especially since you've been in love with them since forever. So you take the risk and let them come over, warning them away from your “dad” as many times as you possibly can.

Thankfully, the study date seems to go... well! You don't see Jean at all, and your friend doesn't mention him either. They even ask you out, and you have to get them to repeat themself a few times before it sinks in that it's real. Of course you say yes! How could you say anything else? You've wanted this since forever!

And then as you finish your shy, nervous little goodbye and watch them drive away... you feel Jean behind you. His arms settle around your waist, his chin on your shoulder, his lips brushing your ear. He tells you how nice they seem. How happy he is to see his son dating someone. How unfortunate it would be if they ever found out about your dirty little secret... But don't worry, he won't tell! For as long as you keep doing everything he asks, as long as you keep pleasing him, his lips are sealed.

[em-harlsnow]

all my works - the master list!

here's a list of all my current works on AO3:

what I'm currently working on: iron bars

fluff/humour:

only you (not your brother) - someone mistakes Mickey and Lip for being married, and neither are very happy about that

butterflies - a collection of small, sweet actions in their married life

I like taking pictures (as long as you're in them) - Ian has many photos of Mickey on his phone and Lip discovers them

Welcome Home (outside POV) - all the Gallaghers' reactions for Mickey coming home from prison in season 10

I see you as you see yourself (outside POV) - Fiona's boyfriend Sean's point of view on Gallavich in season 6 as if they never broke up

study group (outside POV) - Liam's view on gallavich and Mickey when his friends come over, plus their reactions to them

old love (outside POV) - Trevor runs into Ian and Mickey in a coffee shop

moments - my Tumblr drabbles all in one place

mostly fluff, light angst:

you're all talk - mickey talks a lot, and not many people realise it. Ian just loves it

Gallaghers and group chats - text conversations between various Gallagher family members over the years (ranging from snapchats between gallavich and a family group chat)

not everything's a struggle - Mickey still suffers from his childhood injuries even years later, and Ian convinces him to get some help

Mystery of Artist Mickey Milkovich - Ian discovering old drawings that Mickey made of him

what do you know? (outside POV) - Tami gets snowed in with the Gallaghers and learns about Ian and Mickey

lilac shirts and bart simpson - mickey hates working at old army, but then he gets offered a job at a tattoo shop

angst:

It's Dark Tonight (will you stay?) - Ian witnesses Mickey getting hurt by Terry and takes him back to the Gallagher house to look after him set in season 3 (MY FIRST EVER FIC)

motherhood and what comes of it - mickey's mother returns after all these years and wants to see mickey set in season 10

iron bars (WIP) - Ian and mickey's time in prison in season 9, including difficult conversations and playfully reuniting

dark times - mickey dealing with a panic attack while Ian helps

shower - mickey and Ian living together dealing with their issues in season 4/5

find a place to stay - mickey goes to Ian after a run-in with his dad

miscellaneous:

I'll fight everyone but you (AU) - Ian and mickey are in opposing gangs and have to work out how to be together

white knights and friends - just a season 3 ep 5 canon divergence of mickey protecting mandy (my absolute least favourite of all, I wrote it in like an hour and never checked it over)

cardinal sin is a vivid red - depiction of mickey's feelings when Ian leaves for the army (I tried to use a different writing style)

heard you could save me (AU) (WIP) (not updated often, but will be eventually)- superpower AU where Ian and mickey are enemies who slowly become something more

group projects:

s'more of you (AU) (WIP) - Mickey and Ian meet for the first time when they work at a camp together in the summer

my personal faves (should I have favourites of my own work?):

motherhood and what comes of it

welcome home

iron bars

Gallaghers and group chats

dark times

love you all, I'll be editing this as I go!

<3

[lilac-hecox]

Was reading your previous Operation Stepdad AU idea, and a tropey thing I thought of came to me while watching the Sims office makeover video. Like what if there was a follow-up where Courtney made everyone in that Sims world to show a day in the life via Sims and the Anthony and Ian Sims are just fully enamored with each other and making out andwhat have you.

There could be hijinks in the form of her accidentally leaving a Sim in another save file (as mentioned in an older Smoshcast episode, she did make an Ian Sim, but he's saved on Steam or something lol) or when trying to show others, the Sims are doing other unhinged stuff.

So, I love this idea! Let's say that Courtney does make everyone from Smosh in the Sims 4 and they live in the office she made. Of course, she is going to lay out her master plan at getting Ian and Anthony together through the Sims first and she's going to make Shayne and Damien join her as she plays through their first date.

"See, and then Ian is going to kiss Anthony like so." Courtney clicks the mouse and the Sim versions of Ian and Anthony are kissing on screen.

Shayne shakes his head, "This is the dumbest thing we've ever done."

Damien gives him a look, "No, we've definitely done dumber. Now weirdest? This might be that."

"Guys!" Courtney says, frowning at the two men next to her. "This is just a recreation! Plus, isn't it cute? Look how happy virtual Ian and Anthony are."

Imagine they do film a couple of episodes for the channel and Ian and Anthony's Sims are obsessed with each other and Spencer is sending Courtney messages on Slack like 'Courtney, I've had to edit out so many kisses of Ian and Anthony in the Sims 4 video. What did you do??' but maybe he leaves one of the kisses in as like a joke or a funny easter egg and really he knows Ian or Anthony won't watch the video, but they don't anticipate people gif-ing the moment and tweeting it at the men.

Ian coming in the next morning like, "Why are my Twitter replies all gifs of a virtual me kissing a virtual Anthony?"

Shayne points at Courtney. Courtney glares at him.

Ian doesn't know a ton about the Sims 4 and Courtney rambles off something about a mod in the game making everyone kiss, but the only kiss Spencer left in was the one between him and Anthony.

Ian rolls his eyes and grumbles about his ruined replies, but he's got a faint pink to his cheeks.

Sometimes when Courtney is bored and doesn't have a ton to do in the office or she's waiting to be called to set she'll play a little of the file and she's full on moved Ian and Anthony Sims into their own house and is planning a wedding and she definitely doesn't tell Shayne or Damien or Spencer.

[merv606]

Need more of this Terry with this Daniel

Really fuels the divorced Dads AU

A slightly drunken one night stand turns into something else 😍

A chance meeting in the bar - maybe one is celebrating and one after a hard day 🤷‍♀️

Thomas Ian Griffith | Avalanche

[shapeshiftingcloud]

Jack Darby knows how to fight

At least in my SoundDad au. He starts fighting others at school a few years after Soundwave and Laserbeak leave, without a parental presence due to june having to work all the time and the constant bullying from his peers he becomes angry and spiteful. Only calming down when hearing the music box that soundwave gave him.

Turns out that music box is an old kaon(ian?) lullaby.

Maybe one of the bots were humming it but most likely it was a con who was singing it, probably knockout or breakdown to wildbreak. Anyway it's they sing Jack laser focuses on that person like they just told him the sky is falling.

Whoever finds out about the weird fact that this random fleshy knows something as minor as a lullaby from kaon (a historically decepticon supporting city), makes them curious.

"Do you know this song?"

*yeah. my um dad used to sing it to me when I was upset. Even gave me a music box with it. I could never pronounce the words though..

The con pauses for a second considering the human

"Can you hum the rest?"

Jack thinks for a moment thinking back to the happy but blurry times of when his father would sing to him, unconsciously doing the hand signs to the song.

Those handsigns being Cybertronian sign language.

Whoever discovers this, now knows that Jack( weather knowing himself or not) has been connected to cybertron and the war far before he met the autobots.

[doshiart]

F1 AU // GALLAVICH

Ian Gallagher is a racing driver, a young star of the McLaren team. Mickey is just a car technician, who only recently joined the team as a trainee.

/long read backstory below/

Okay, I've thought about this a lot. So.. Shameless US but.. huh? living in UK?

First of all, because Formula 1 is more popular in Europe. Secondly, because I want to alter the story of Mickey's growing up. Make it a story about a little boy persevering towards his dreams. And how a simple childhood passion can grow into a potential job opportunity.

If briefly, below I talk about Mickey's developmental stages, along with his final emigration from Ukraine to the UK.

I'm not going into Ian's backstory here. But I'll mention this in more detail at the very end of the post, if you get to the end. Ha ha. Have fun reading!!

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Mickey was six, just a little boy, when he first saw a F1 race on TV. And he was amazed by how quickly the cars could go and how quickly the mechanics performed at pit stops. (Are these even mechanics? Well, they turn the wheels, dad does the same thing in the garage and considers himself a mechanic).

When the next year he went to school in his first grade, then to all the teachers' questions or questionnaires with their “What do you want to be when you grow up?” he confidently answered as clearly as his childish language could, that he would definitely become a F1 mechanic. Even though he received only gentle smiles in reaction to his naivety of being a kid, the desire took root in his little head.

---

As he grew older, he continued to enjoy racing, watching every race weekend he could. And while he was a child this did not cause any particular problems. Mom encouraged him in his interests and every New Year gave him tiny branded cars of the teams he loved. But as he gets older, the more often he hears from dad that he is interested in some stupid things. And he didn't want to hear a word about racing at all. As soon as Mickey mentioned it even once, he was cut off mid-sentence.

These are not real cars.

Real mechanics work in a garage with real cars, not kids' toys for show.

Come down to earth. It’s all somewhere far away and you never even get to one of these races in your life.

---

Well, Mickey talks less about racing out loud anymore. Especially after mom's gone.

Tiny model cars disappeared into the closet's darkness.

His dad began to drag him into their garage more often so that he would get used to work and not wander around idle, lost in his stupid dreams. He had to skip live racing broadcasts as a result. It was sort of suicidal acts to turn this on in the garage on a small TV instead of some dumb music channel with hit songs. Mickey had learnt long ago to keep his mouth shut.

Just listen. Bring it. Grab it. Repair simple details. Don't go under the hood. Don't touch this, don't touch that. And especially don't break anything. Blah blah blah.

Jesus, are you even a man? Take your gentle hands away if you're not ready to get dirty.

---

Despite everything, Mickey still had a dream. One day, he hopes to watch a real-life race. Hear the noise of wheels flying over the track, the roar of engines, the screams of a supportive crowd. He prefers to never talk about his own desire to work as a car mechanic or engineer in F1.

---

Mickey was sixteen when he left after ninth grade for a vocational college to applied mechanics specialty.

Because, well, he had good reasons for leaving school two grades early. At the very least, he was already tired of going to school. He didn't even have any friends there. Yes, he communicated with classmates, but that's not it. It's forced. Just so as not to be an outcast and maintain the status of the Milkovich family by playing dirty tricks at school and bullying others. Did he like it? Absolutely not. These guys were idiots with stupid jokes and always picking on chicks.

They kept asking if he liked any of them and talking about how they looked all the time. Mickey never liked anyone. It wasn't that the girls were ugly, he just didn't find them attractive. But he pushed these thoughts away and ignored them. Left it somewhere near to the tiny race cars in the darkness.

Also, classmates called him into fights on regularly. Not that he was against kicking someone's dumb ass, but that he would prefer better reasons than just trying to prove whose class is above.

Another reason is that, in their family, working with their hands and having a real profession are more valued than going to higher education. Because this is a job for real men. Where will all these managers, lawyers, accountants, stupid psychologists be when their car breaks down? Mechanics will always have work and profit.

As well, Mickey is deeply curious about the workings of the engine and wants to fully understand its mechanisms. He will therefore be able to study this in practice with teachers, rather than with a psychotic bastard who screams at the slightest opportunity.

The only thing Mickey truly wanted to learn at school was English. Not because he loved it. This gave him at least some hope of "breaking abroad for the sake of a good life". Perhaps the main reason for his success was that he had a really great teacher who pushed and encouraged him. Sometimes he would stick around after class and stay just to talk with her. Mickey felt parental care, which he hasn't received lately.

“I believe that you can achieve a lot, Mikhailo. Just believe in yourself.” She told him and he believed her, hugging her a little longer so as not to show his wet eyes.

And well, after leaving school, these words sometimes came to mind during the saddest times, when he returned home after a long day of school combined with an exhausting shift in the family garage. Every time he spoke with his dad, he felt terribly devastated. The dream was literally slipping out from Mickey's hands. A pipe dream, is that what they say? Well, at least he'll try to do something.

---

Mickey was twenty when he graduated and by this time he was actively saving money, hiding it in different places. Also, he planned his escape from home, considered the best routes, and looked at what things he should take with him, confused about whether he would ever return home again.

As he approached his twenty-first birthday, he finally decided to do it. With only a spark of hope, he was ready to leave for nowhere. And okay, Mickey was a realist; he was aware that things might not work out at all and that he would have to return back eventually. But he'll do anything, though, to make sure that this doesn't happen, to avoid having to meet his dad's derisive gaze once more as his goal gets mocked.

After all, a dream is a dream, right? He also had skills and language abilities in his pocket. So he's really ready to do anything to attain even the tiniest success.

---

To get to UK, Mickey had to go through a long journey of transfers from bus to train, from train to plane. He's terribly tired, but here he is. He stands and watches as the new country greets him with heavy rain.

He first found it difficult to adjust to other people's smiling faces. There were a few times when he didn't feel at home because everyone was so friendly and lovely. And these people were incredibly talkative. He'll have to get used to this if he plans to stay here.

The first difficulties he encountered occurred at the department while filling out a form for migrants.

“Mik.. Mikai.. Mikaelo?”

“Mikhailo.” Mickey interrupted.

The employee's eyes stared blankly at him.

He sighed. “Ugh.. Mickey? Yeah, Mickey.”

“Okay, Mickey. Here you are.”

---

Mickey got a job as a mechanic for a small business fairly quickly thanks to his abilities. He was so easily and warmly accepted into the friendly team. Here he first felt respect while working. Mickey got assistance from the job department in extending his visa to stay in the country. His job also provided him with a tiny apartment, deducted from his paycheck.

After a while, feeling a little more self-assured, Mickey started saving money for qualifying courses that would help him in the future.

---

Mickey was almost twenty-four when he successfully obtained all the qualifications that were necessary for the job, as well as to be sure of himself and his knowledge. During this time two full racing seasons had passed. He attended only one race at Silverstone. This was his almost full year in the UK. His skin broke out in goosebumps when he saw the track in person. It wasn't quite what he expected. Mickey literally stood in one place and once in a while cars would drive by. On TV they show a larger overview, but still. He was excited. In this grand prix, a new young racer from the McLaren team took third place for the first time. His name seems to be Ian, and he likes to take risks on the track, driving the car while presenting a strong sense of confidence. And his hair perfectly matches with the team's car.

He missed the second race due to a qualifying exam. But he's not upset. Mickey is closer than ever to his dream. If everything works out, he'll see even more racing. If not, well, then he'll continue to work repairing regular cars. Perhaps he'll be able to attend grand prix events in other countries during his holidays?

But now it's the middle of the season and he's standing in the lobby of the McLaren Technology Center. He's trembling a little and his wild eyes are scanning everything in the immediate area.

Mickey can't believe the reality of what's happening. No he didn't become a mechanic. But.. it's still impressive. He was interviewed and tested to become a temporary vehicle technician for the team as an intern. He was told something about a possible career advancement and access to other things once he completed more qualifications, but he's not sure he heard everything correctly.

Later they tested him on team tests on the track. He's surprised that he was able to concentrate on his speed and did everything exactly as needed.

He actually became… exactly the one who changes the wheels and does minor repairs. He joined the technical team and will also work on pit stops during the races. And well, okay, if everything that's happening isn't a dream, he's really happy. Extremely happy. Of course, the longer he studied, the more he wanted to do engineering and development. But that's the tiny step, right? This is already more than anything he could have imagined. He saw the race in real life from the stands, and now he got the opportunity to see everything from the staff. He'll interact directly with the racing car. He might even hear how the team interacts with racers. Unbelievable.

Through the noise in his ears, Mickey hears someone standing beside him talking in a muffled voice.

“Hey! You're a new technician, right?”

The guy had already taken off his helmet when Mickey turned around. He softly smiles while stroking his fiery red hair.

Mickey stared at him. When he was brought to the track, he thought that some tester was sitting in the car, but not their young star.

“Yeah. Hope so…” He twitched his lip and scratched nose. “You're Ian, right?”

Of course this is Ian, what a stupid question. It's too embarrassing.

The redhead smile became even larger.

“Yeah…”

And just as he was about to add something else, one of the staff called Ian to go back and he hurriedly turned to Mickey and said quickly, “Oh, uh, see ya later then, gotta go.”

---------------

I'm glad I finally wrote and drew this. This idea has literally taken over my head so much that I don't have the energy to write Ian's backstory in the same way. Once again I am convinced that writing is hard work. And I want to say again about my love for writers. YOU ARE INCREDIBLE. For my brain, drawing is easier than writing. But it was fun!

!!!AND!!! THE MOST IMPORTANT THING! If someone suddenly wants to write a big multi-chap slowburn fic or little drabble or do anything, I'll be happy so much with absolutely anything!!

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Let's talk about Ian now. I was actually going to write a backstory for him too. Maybe at least some minor notes, but I'm not quite sure how best to connect his bipolar with racing. Usually because racers drive go-karts from childhood, get into the junior league and generally build a racing career for years. Maybe he had a breakdown somewhere between seasons and it was quickly noticed?? I don’t know… And I think about how the team constantly checks him, which at times upsets him and forces him to prove to everyone that he is fine and able to drive the car.

Most likely, in this AU, Gallaghers are either rich, or Ian has a sponsor, if you know what I mean… From this fact, a whole lot can change in story. And the second thing seems more likely to me.

I was thinking about how Ian joined the McLaren team at the age of 21, and by the time he first met Mickey he was 22. He had been stable for a long time on medication.

So I'm also considering the possibility that somewhere between his 17-19 years he disappeared from the radar and came back when he found a sponsor who could pay for everything he needed and help him get into the F1 league. At first it was the weakest team, until his potential was noticed and he was offered to move to another team. This fact with the sponsor will probably put a lot of spokes in the wheels (ha).

Racer's body is undergoing an enormous physical strain, so they spend a lot of time in the gym. And Ian really enjoys working out with his team.

Another interesting fact: racers have a super-strong neck to be able to cope with gravitational forces during the race. Therefore, special attention is paid to neck in training. (It seems from the moment I found out this my little fixation began…)

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I think there's a lot of pining here or something. They seem to be nearby, but due to different job responsibilities, at completely distinct levels. And I really want to read something like this with so slow burning.

So, I guess you can consider this as a big prompt for writing, if it inspires you.

Thanks for reading! <3