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wiypt-writes · 4 years ago

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Riding On

CH26- In Sickness And In Health

Summary: A bug hits the Adler household, and it isn’t pretty.

Warnings: Bad language, talks of puke and vomit (grim!)

Pairing: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Word Count- 5.1k ish

Riding On Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 25

Fliss woke in the middle of the night to Thor gently scratching at the bedroom door, little whines seeping from his mouth. She sat still, her ears craning for what had gotten him so agitated and then she heard soft crying from across the hall. She knew from the fact it wasn’t coming over the baby monitor it wasn’t Alex, which left one other person.

“Frank...” she nudged him with her elbow gently in his ribs, where he lay in his preferred sleeping position, on his stomach, arms folded under his pillow. “Babe, Mary’s crying.”

He grumbled something before his nose screwed up and he gave a sleepy questioning hum as Fliss flicked on the lamp and rose from the bed, locating her sleep wear which had been discarded the night before as they’d gotten a little frisky. He groaned again, blinking against the light before his sleepy brain suddenly registered what was going on and he sat up, frowning.

The door to their room opened as Fliss headed across the landing and Frank jumped out of bed, pulling on a pair of sweats that were discarded over the back of the chair by the vanity and followed. As soon as Fliss opened the door to Mary’s room the smell of vomit hit his nostrils and he sighed, instantly realising what was going on.

“Hey, hey...” Fliss stood on the bottom rung of the steps which led up to Mary’s bed, reaching over to brush her hair which was spattered with puke off her face. “Sweetheart, it’s ok.”

“I couldn’t get to the bathroom in time...” Mary sobbed. “I just woke up and...”

“Stack, calm down.” Frank soothed as he moved behind Fliss. “Does your tummy hurt?”

“Yeah.” She nodded and then without warning she pushed Fliss away, retched, and spewed up once more all over her bedspread, her sobbing growing louder. Frank grimaced, and in front of him Fliss gave a little, sudden half retch of her own- he knew she hated dealing with puke but it was testament to her mom instincts as she swallowed and reached out, rubbing Mary’s back.

“Okay, honey. Let’s get you cleaned up. Can you stand in the shower or do you want me to run you a bath?”

“Bath.” Mary stammered, retching again and Fliss nodded, turning to Frank. “I’ll go sort it, can you help her down?”

“Sure.” Frank nodded as Fliss dodged round him, heading to the bathroom.

“I’m sorry.” Mary whispered.

“What for?” Frank frowned.

“For barfing in my bed.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” Frank soothed her. “Have I ever been mad at you for being sick?”

“Only when I ate all those marshmallows.”

“That was different, I told you to stop stuffing them into your mouth and you didn’t.” Frank chuckled, the back of his hand pressing to Mary’s forehead. She felt clammy, her cheeks tinged with pink. “You can’t help it if you’re ill, sweetheart.”

“But the bedcover is new.”

“Mary, it doesn’t matter.” He repeated. “It’ll wash. I’m more worried about you. Now come on, let’s get you in the bath okay?”

With a little clever manoeuvring, Frank helped Mary down from her bunk and she made her way slowly into the bathroom where Fliss as busy drawing her a bath.

“Okay, you want me to stay with you or you wanna be on your own?” Fliss asked Mary as she slumped ok the close toilet seat.

“Can you stay?”

“Sure.” Fliss smiled.

“I’ll go strip the bed and toss it all in the machine.” Frank gently ran his hand over the back of Mary’s head as Fliss handed her a glass of water. “You can get in with us for the rest of the night.”

Mary drained the glass and nodded, wiping her eyes. Frank straightened up and Fliss gave him a little smile before he turned and headed out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Half an hour or so later Mary was in a fresh set of pyjamas, had taken a dose of medicine and was settled in their bed. After an initial bit of another flap about her not wanting to be in the middle in case she needed to get out, Frank had assured her that if she moved he would wake and she was now settled in between him and Fliss, curled on her side and snuggled into his chest, her head tucked under his chin. His large arms cuddled her close, his left hand gently rubbing at her back as he gave Fliss a tired smile as she flicked off the light and settled down beside them having checked on Alex to make sure the noise hadn’t disturbed him.

“I’ll stay home with her.” He whispered as Fliss leaned over and pressed a kiss to the back of Mary’s head before she moved and placed a soft one on Frank’s mouth. “It’s easier for me to rearrange stuff than you, I can work here.”

“I can rearrange some stuff if needs be but, well, she’s always a daddy’s girl when she’s sick.” Fliss yawned.

Frank chuckled a little as he too gave a soft yawn. “Yeah, and I’d be lying if I said I ever wanted that to change.”

****

Mary was off colour for just over two days. Just as Fliss had stated, she’d been clingy to Frank, laying on the sofa by his side or on his knee, her head resting on his lap whilst she slept. Thankfully, by the time the third day rolled around she was back almost to her usual self although Frank insisted she stay home from summer camp for the rest of the week. The bad news was, however, the bug was seemed to have caught him now. He felt funny on the Monday morning and as he drove into work he had to pull his truck over so he could puke out of the door. With a groan he grabbed the bottle of water out of the holder and with a shaky hand drained half in one go before he pulled a u-turn and headed home. Fliss saw his truck arrive back onto their driveway and came into the house to find him rushing into the bathroom, throwing up violently into the toilet. With a sigh she gently rubbed his back and sent him to bed, fetching him some water and kissing his head, telling him to rest up. “Where’s dad?” Mary asked as she walked into her kitchen later that evening, having been picked up by Bill following a call from Fliss earlier that afternoon. “In bed, he’s caught your bug.” Fliss sighed. “Poor bugger.” Bill grimaced. “Yeah, he’s not well.” Fliss wrinkled her nose. “Just a case of it working through his system.” She smiled at Alex as she took him from her dad. “They behaved?” “Good as gold.” Bill smiled as Alex gave his momma a huge grin as she kissed his cheek. “Do you want us to pick them up again tomorrow evening?” “Would you?” Fliss sighed. “Frank won’t be up to it and I’ve got lessons until six.” “Sure, Mary can stay if she likes. We’ve got the twins so...” “Oh please Mom, can I?” Mary grinned and Fliss shrugged. “Sure, if you want.” “Yesss.” Mary gave Bill a hi-five before she excused herself and headed into her den. Bill had a cup of tea before he headed back home and Fliss got Alex ready for bed. Just as she was carrying him out of the nursery for his night bottle, Frank emerged from their bedroom. He was pale, and looked absolutely drained. “Hey, how you feeling?” Fliss gave him a sympathetic smile and he shook his head, giving a little sigh. “Like I’ve been hit by a bus.” He grumbled as Alex gave a noise of excitement at seeing his dad. “Hey, buddy.” Frank gave him a smile and waggled his fingers, chuckling a little as the baby mimicked his actions. “Frankie, go back to bed.” Fliss coaxed and he sighed. “I can’t sleep, been awake for the last hour.” “You been sick again?” “Not yet. Although my stomach is killing me.” “Can you face anything to eat?” Frank shook his head. “Just need to get some water.” “I’ll get it, just go lie down and watch some TV or something.” “Is Mary okay?” He completely ignored her instructions and Fliss shot him a look. “Stop ignoring me. She’s fine. I’ll send her up to say hi, now go. Go on.” “Yes, Mom.” Frank grumbled before he turned and headed back into their room. As Fliss headed down the stairs she heard the vague sounds of him retching into the toilet in the en-suite. ***** The next morning, Fliss found herself with a sick fiancée and a sick eleven month old as Alex promptly woke her up at five am screaming, and proceeded to projectile vomit all over her as she lifted him out of his vomit spattered crib. With a sigh, she soothed him gently before she carried him into the main bathroom so as not to disturb Frank and stripped them both off, stepping into the shower with him in her arms to clean them both off. Being an expert at doing things one handed now thanks to usually having him on her hip, she managed to wash her hair and his before she stepped out, wrapped him in a little towel. She shrugged on her robe and carried him out of the room, dressing him in a clean romper before she wandered downstairs to make herself some breakfast. As soon as it was an acceptable hour, she called Joanne to have her cancel her lessons for the day before she then called her mum who assured her that her or Bill would collect Mary and drop her at summer camp so she didn’t have to. It was a little after ten when Frank headed downstairs to find Fliss gently rocking Alex to and fro as he griped in her arms, his little hands curled round the material of her t-shirt, his cheeks red as he rest one against her shoulder. “Oh he’s not got it as well?” Frank sighed and Fliss nodded. “Yup, I got a wonderful five am wake up call.” “Oh, Honey, I’m sorry.” “It’s not your fault.” She looked at him, giving him a soft smile. “How you feeling today?” “A little better, not great but...” Frank shrugged as he ran a hand over Alex’s head. “Is he really bad?” Fliss wrinkled her nose. “He’s not been sick for an hour or so now but his diapers are grim.” She pulled a face. “I’m just worried about him not eating or drinking and getting dehydrated.” “Just offer him something plain to eat.” Frank looked at her, rubbing her arm. “Maybe some rye crackers or those little animal ones he likes and some diluted apple juice. If he’s like Mary then this will pass in a couple of days, don’t worry about it, it’s not like he’s a tiny baby now.” “Hmmm. Maybe I should ask Mum what I should do, I mean she’s done this before and...” At that Frank paused, his hand dropping to his side as he felt his temper flare. “Yeah, because it’s not like I have or anything is it, Fliss?” He knew he shouldn’t have said it, but he was tired, wasn’t feeling too great himself and her lack of faith in him had riled him to the point he’d blurted it out without thinking. And he immediately knew he’d pushed the wrong button when she stilled and turned to him, her eyes blazing. “You’re such a dick!” “I’m a dick?” He snapped back. “Jesus, you constantly second guess everything I suggest. I’ve done this before and Mary turned out just fine.” “I don’t second guess everything.” “You know what, just do what you want. I can’t have this argument now, I feel like crap. Maybe you should check with your mom what I should eat as well while you’re at it.” “Fuck off, Frank.” Fliss spat at him as she adjusted Alex in her arms and stormed out of the room, her feet heavy on the stairs as she made her way up them, Alex’s little cries growing quieter as she went before they died out completely as she shut the door to his nursery. With a groan Frank grabbed a bottle of water and followed her up the stairs where he headed back into the bedroom, climbed into bed and pulled the covers over his head. **** Thor alerted Fliss to someone’s presence and her head turned to see her mum enter through the back door holding a canvas shopping bag.

“Mum?”

“Hey love, you sounded a little stressed on the phone so I thought I’d swing by.” She smiled. “How is he?”

“Who, Alex or the asshole upstairs?” Fliss rolled her eyes and Verity arched her brow.

“You two had an argument? I thought Frank was ill?”

“He is. Suffering from asshole-itis.”

“Okay.” Verity sighed as she placed the bag on the counter in the kitchen. “Well, I made you a lasagne and some chicken soup for when Frank feels like eating. Probably better on his stomach than a heap of meat and cheese.”

“Thanks.” Fliss gave her mum a smile as she stood up and headed over to the kitchen area of the large family room, checking on Alex who was sleeping in the pack and play in the corner of the room.

“Did he eat his crackers?”

“A few.” Fliss shrugged. “But he drank most of his apple juice and keeping him hydrated is the most important thing, right?”

"He’s not a new-born now, Fliss.” Verity smiled. “And this isn’t the first time he’s been off colour.”

“No, but it’s the first time he’s been puking up every hour or so.”

“Yes, but as long as he keeps drinking then there’s no need to worry about it.” Verity looked at her. “If he’s still bad in another twenty-four hours and you’re worried, call the doctor. But Frank was right with what he said. Diluted apple juice will make sure he gets water and a bit of sugar, and if he munches on a few crackers then at least he’s eating something. You could always offer him a piece of banana too. Full of vitamins and the potassium will be good for him, too.” At that Fliss pulled a face and Verity chuckled. “You’ve never liked bananas.”

“Frank and Mary love them as well as him, but the texture makes me want to hurl.”

“You eat avocado.” Verity rolled her eyes and Fliss shrugged as she filled a kettle. There was a moment’s silence as Fliss placed the kettle on to boil and her mum reached for two mugs. “So, you going to tell me why Frank’s an asshole?”

“Oh, just before.” Fliss shrugged, tossing teabags into the teapot. “He accused me of second guessing him when I said I wanted to call you about Alex.”

“Right.” Verity nodded, leaning back against the counter. “And you weren’t?”

“No, of course not.” Fliss looked at her mum and Verity shrugged.

“Okay,” she held her hands up, “but, try and see it from his point of view, sweetheart. He is his dad…”

“I know that…”

“…and he’s done this before. In fact he’s done this before the same amount of times I have.”

At that Fliss paused and took a deep breath as her mum continued.

“You and Steve are both my children, but don’t forget, I didn’t meet Steve until he was five. So my sum total experience of babies was from looking after you, which makes Frank as equally qualified as me, certainly from the six month mark anyway.”

Fliss hesitated, in all honesty she hadn’t thought about it that way. She let out a sigh as her eyes filled with tears and her mum gave her a small smile and gently touched her arm. “Hey, don’t get upset, come here…”

Fliss willingly stepped into her mums arms for a hug, sniffing a little as Verity gently stroked the back of her head. “Being a parent is stressful, and being a first time one is the scariest thing in the world, but I wish I’d had the support from someone like you get from Frank.”

“I know, and he’s great, he’s more than great he’s fantastic, sometimes I just,” Fliss sniffed and shrugged lamely as she pulled back a little, “you’re my mum, that’s all.”

“Yeah I was last time I checked.” Verity smiled and Fliss let out a soft chuckle as she stepped back. “But Frank is your fiancée, and Alex’s dad. I can understand why he got a little frustrated.”

“He’s never snapped at me before when I’ve called you for advice.”

“Yeah, well, he’s not feeling great is he?” Verity reasoned. “He’s most likely tired and a bit cranky and you just got the brunt, unfortunately. Isn’t that the way it works? You’re a snappy bitch with him often enough.”

“I know.” Fliss turned to the kettle. “Least he doesn’t beat me black and blue for it, huh?”

“Don’t.” Verity said sternly and Fliss poured the hot water into the tea pot.

“True though.” She sighed, before she shook her head. “Anyway, enough. What are you doing with the kids tonight?”

“Your Dad's pumping the inflatables up for the pool.” Verity took her tea with a thanks. “Then we’ve stocked up on sausages, burgers and enough soda and sweets to keep them wired for a week.”

“Standard night and Nanna and Granddad’s then.” Fliss smiled and Verity chuckled as the two of them made their way outside to sit in the garden.

“The twins are staying until the weekend.” Verity smiled. “Steve’s taking Sian off for a last little break before your wedding and the baby arrives. If you want to gather some more stuff for Mary, she can stay longer. We were going to take them to the waterpark on Thursday.”

“She’d love that. I’ll check with Frank as we’ve paid for summer camp, but I don’t think he’ll have an issue.”

“Issue with what?”

Both women looked up to see Frank stood in the doorway, rubbing his eyes slightly. At the sight of him looking so tired and sick, Fliss felt all her earlier anger ebbing away and she took a deep breath.

“Oh, Mum was just saying, the twins are staying with her and dad until Friday, she suggested Mary might like to as well.”

“You don’t need to check with me.” Frank shook his head, his voice soft. “You’re her mom. If she wants to then, whatever.” Frank shrugged. “Not like we’re going to be doing anything at the moment, is it?”

“How are you feeling?” Verity looked at Frank and he gave a shrug.

“Crap.” He snorted, “How’s Bean?”

“He ate a few crackers and had some apple juice, he just seems tired.” Fliss shrugged.

To his credit, Frank didn’t mention the fact that she’d done exactly what he advised. Instead he nodded. “Good.”

“Do you want anything to eat?” Fliss offered. “Mum brought some chicken soup.”

“No, no offence V but my stomach isn’t quite ready for that.” He grimaced as Verity waved his apology off. “I just came for some air and to grab a drink.”

“Do you want me to make you a honey and ginger tea?” Fliss looked at him. “Might help.”

Frank gave her a soft smile, “sure, thanks.”

She stood up and passed him in the doorway, her hand softly brushing over his arm as she went. Once she’d gone, Frank stepped outside, taking in a breath as he let the sun warm his face. “You sure you don’t mind Mary staying for a few days?”

“Of course not.” Verity shook her head. “I was just saying to Fliss, we’re thinking of taking them all to the water park on Thursday.”

“She’ll love that.” Frank smiled, taking a deep breath as a wave of nausea washed over him.

“As long as it’s not an issue, Fliss said you’d already paid for camp.”

Frank shook his head. “It’s not expensive, plus you have to pay for the full summer up front, regardless. Just easier to make sure she has a place. As long as we tell them she won’t be there for the rest of the week it doesn’t matter.” He took a seat in one of the outside comfy chairs, and ran his hands over his face. “God, this is disgusting.”

Verity chuckled. “Yeah, it seems a pretty nasty bug. Make sure you rest up.”

“I’m bored of lying in bed.” He groaned.

“You’re just like Bill.” Verity looked at him, sternly. “Don’t be a stubborn bastard and rush around until you’re ready.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He gave her a salute and she narrowed her eyes playfully.

“And whilst we’re at it, I’ve spoken to Fliss about her being a snappy little madam.”

“What do you mean?”

“She told me you’d had an argument before, and yes, before you say anything I can see your point but I can also see hers.” She looked at him. “I gave her a gentle reminder that my experience with babies amounts to the same as yours so I’m by no means more qualified but I’m glad she feels she can call me. It’s a support network I didn’t have, nor did you for that matter. And I bet you wish you did.”

Frank took a deep breath. “I know, I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. I was just, well, a little frustrated, that’s all.”

“No, I know, I get it.” Verity assured him. “And so does she. Just maybe try not to be such a cranky little shit.”

At that Frank snorted and their conversation was cut off when Fliss appeared, placing a mug on the table in front of him.

“Thanks.” He smiled as she ran her hand through his hair affectionately. Reaching up, he caught her hand and pressed a soft kiss to the inside of her wrist.

“I’m sorry I snapped before.” He looked at her and she smiled back.

“It’s okay.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like I don’t trust you something.”

“I should have pointed it out to you in a better way than I did.” Frank conceded, before his eyes playfully darted to Verity before they flicked back to Fliss’. “I was a cranky little shit.”

Verity chuckled and shook her head as Fliss smiled and moved to take her seat. Frank reached over for his drink and took a small sip, leaning back in his chair, happy to be outside the confines of the bedroom for a few moments, until his stomach gave a violent lurch, reminding him exactly why he hadn’t strayed far from the bathroom.

With a groan, he jumped up, almost falling over Thor in his haste and knowing full well he wasn’t going to make it to the toilet, he turned and violently spewed into the kitchen sink.

“Well,” Fliss sighed, standing up to go and help him out, “at least he’ll be bringing up nothing but water.” She pulled a face. “Don’t fancy fishing chunks out of the plug hole.”

*****

Frank woke early the next morning, having slept so much over the last forty-eight hours and he was pleased to report he was feeling much better. It was still quite dark outside and he took care as he climbed out of bed not to make too much noises. He padded over to the spare room, Fliss having chosen to sleep in there along with Alex in the travel crib so as not to disturb him too much, and was happy to see the pair of them fast asleep when he poked his head through the door. Thor eyed him a little before he stood up, stretching and wandered over, yawning.

“Wanna go out, pal?” Frank reached out and scratched the large dog behind his ear as his tail wagged lazily, his mouth opening in a wide yawn. “Okay, come on.”

It was an hour or so later he heard Fliss shout down the stairs. It was a frantic, broken yell of his name and in a flash he sprinted up onto the landing in time to see her bursting into the bathroom where she emptied her stomach into the toilet.

“Oh, baby.” He sighed, walking towards her but she waved him away.

“Alex,” she spluttered, before she turned and puked again and Frank instantly understood. Heading into the spare room, he picked up the baby who had himself thrown up, but was surprisingly cheerful all things considered. There were no tears, no fuss, just a huge grin for his daddy as he sat peering up at him.

“Not quite sure what you find so amusing.” Frank arched his eyebrow and swept the baby up, turning him so that the front of his vomit spattered romper was facing outwards, one large arm supporting his butt. He made his way back onto the landing to see Fliss now emerging, her face flushed and her eyes heavy.

“Go back to bed.” Frank nodded to their room, before he dropped a kiss to her forehead. “I got this.”

Without so much as a word of protest she headed into their bedroom, Thor following, and she closed the door behind her. Twenty minutes later, Alex was cleaned up and sat in his high chair next to Frank who was perched on a stool at the island, both of them munching on a banana. Alex’s appetite was back with gusto, but Frank was wary of overloading the tot’s stomach (and his own for that matter) so soon following their illness, so he had cut Alex’s banana into smaller pieces than normal in an attempt it would fool him into thinking he had eaten more. No such luck. As he finished the last piece he examined his now empty bowl and then looked at Frank, making a questioning noise.

“No more buddy, not yet.” Frank shook his head, chuckling as Alex reached for the one Frank had in his hand. “This is mine.” At that, Alex frowned and let out a loud noise of protest. Frank merely looked back at him again. “Complain all you want, it won’t get you anywhere.”

Once their breakfast was done, he carried him over to the play mat, watching him carefully as he entertained himself, crawling across the rug to get to some of his brightly coloured blocks. Frank played with him for a little while before he called both work and Joanne explaining the situation and that neither he nor Fliss would be in work that day. Once that was sorted, he then decided to take Alex out for some air into the garden, selecting a spot in the shade by the pool. By the time lunch time rolled around, neither of them had thrown up again, but there was no sign of Fliss. Frank set Alex down for a nap in his room, and headed over to check on her. She peered up at him from where she was led in bed, something playing on the TV and she gave him a weak smile.

“Hey.” He dropped onto the bed by her side, his hand running through her hair. “You need anything?”

“No.” She shook her head. “Is Bean okay?”

“He’s fine. He’s had a banana and some crackers for breakfast and a little more for lunch. So far so good, it hasn’t come back up.”

“Course I would have to get it too.” She grumbled and Frank chuckled, leaning over to kiss her forehead.

“Well, were you really expecting anything else?” He smiled and she rolled her eyes.

“No, suppose not.” She shifted and stretched, grimacing a little. “Fuck, my back is starting to go funny.”

“Lying down too much?” He asked gently, knowing she struggled with that sometimes if she was on it for too long, a consequence of her accident all those years ago.

“Yeah, that and I think I pulled it puking.”

“Well, how about I draw you a bath and then you can come downstairs and rest on the couch?” He offered, his hand cupping her cheek. “I got plenty of cuddles and sympathy in me, especially now I know I’ve had it and therefore immune.”

“Okay.” She nodded.

It was little under half an hour later when Fliss made her way downstairs, dressed in a pair of sleep pants and a t-shirt, her hair pulled back into a messy pony tail. Frank gave her a small smile and lifted his arm as she sat down next to him. He pressed a kiss to her temple as she cuddled up to him.

“You need anything?” Frank asked her softly and she shook her head, adjusting herself so she was comfy, snuggling into him a little further. Only it didn’t last long. Approximately five minutes later she gave a little whimper and shot up from the couch, running for the bathroom. Frank let out a sigh as he stood up and followed her, his large hand rubbing at her back as he knelt beside her whilst she puked into the downstairs toilet.

“Fuck this shit.” She groaned as she sat back, her face flushed, cheeks streaked with tears. “I don’t wanna be ill. I hate you.”

“Me?” Frank chuckled.

“Yes, you. You gave this to me.”

“Well, actually, I think I gave it to Alex. Who likely gave it to you.”

“Exactly, you infected him and he infected me.”

“If we’re playing the blame game, then Mary is totally ‘Patient Zero’.”

Fliss looked at him, swallowing, before she moved him out of the way and retched again, only this time nothing much came up on account of her stomach being empty.

“I need water.” She mumbled.

“Okay, you want me to fetch you some here or are you done?”

“I’m done, for the time being. I think.” She sighed and Frank stood, pulling her to her feet. He waited whilst she splashed cold water on her face and rinsed her mouth out before he gently scooped his arm round her as she slowly walked into the hallway, stumbling a little as she went. Not wanting her to fall and add a concussion to the mix, Frank easily swept her up into his arms, bridal style and she groaned.

“I’m not dying.”

“Well, you looked you were going to fall so, suck it up, Buttercup.” He shrugged, depositing her back on the couch before he made his way to the fridge. He came back with a bottle of water and unscrewed the lid before passing it to her. She took a large gulp, her face pale before she gave an exhausted sigh, the back of her forearm wiping at her forehead.

“Is it warm in here?” She frowned and Frank shook his head.

“The Air-Con is at normal temp. You’re running a slight fever, same as us.”

“Fantastic.” Fliss groaned, flopping down and stretching out beside him, laying her head in his lap.

“Well in my eyes you’ve always been hot.” Frank joked lamely, as his fingers gently ran down her neck and back, the same way she’d comforted him the previous day. She shook her head, scoffing at his lame joke.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Calling it how I see it, Lissy.” He chuckled, his hand gently brushing down the side of her face. “Try and get some rest, Sweetheart. You’ll feel better when you’ve slept, I promise.”

They sat in silence, eyes trained on the TV and when Alex woke a short while later, Frank glanced down to see Fliss had fallen asleep. Reaching for a pillow he gently moved her head, propping it up on the cushion, a soft sigh escaping him. She’d spent pretty much the entire last week taking care of them, it was certainly time to repay the favour.

“You gonna be quiet so you don’t disturb Momma?” He spoke in a hushed voice to Alex once he’d changed his diaper and carried him back downstairs. Alex made a little noise in response, a garble of sounds that sounded a little like 'Mama' when Frank thought about it. He had no doubt in his mind that the baby would be speaking sooner rather than later.

“Yeah, Mama.” Frank nodded as he opened the door to the family room. Fliss was still fast asleep and thankfully, Alex seemed content once he’d seen her to be distracted by Fred, who sauntered over towards him as he sat on the rug, his tail swishing in Alex’s face making him laugh as he went to grab it. Fred scooted off and Frank spoke, his voice low.

“Alex, no. We don’t pull tails.”

Alex looked at him before he gave a giggle and spun quickly onto all fours and shot after the animal as fast as he could crawl. With a roll of his eyes, Frank headed after him and grabbed the back of his t-shirt, lifting him up. Alex’s cackles rang around the room and despite himself, Frank chuckled as well as he spun the baby to face him, holding him at arm’s length.

“You’re a menace, you know that?” He arched his eyebrow as he brought him back down to press a kiss to his cheek, before he extended his arms again, once more bringing him back towards him, more giggles bursting from Alex’s mouth as he continued to repeat the playful motion. “Cute, but a total menace.”

When Frank held Alex above him for a fourth time, it wasn’t a giggle that burst from the tot’s mouth. It was a steady stream of banana and rye barf which hit Frank straight in the face.

“Oh, Jesus fucking Christ.” Frank grimaced, wiping his face on his shoulder, before he turned to look at Alex who grinned at him. “Thanks a lot, pal.”

**** Chapter 27

#riding on #frank adler #frank adler x ofc #frank adler x original female character #gifted #gifted fan fic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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littlespoonevan · 5 years ago

Note

i think you’ve done one before where ian and mickey run into trevor? but i’d love another one like that. or caleb. or kash. or literally anyone from the earlier seasons (could even be an old school mate who we don’t know!) and who has a shocked reaction that they are still together/married.

anon said:prompt: ian and mickey introducing each other as husbands at a group event scenario

so because i combined two prompts here, have two blasts from the past!! (though idk who’s gonna be happy to see caleb lmao hopefully the 2nd guest makes up for it) i hope u like it!!! :D

Mickey loosens his tie as he scans the room, idlywondering when exactly he’ll stop putting himself in uncomfortable socialsituations for Ian’s sake. Then again, Ian walking towards him in his fancyblazer with the top few buttons of his shirt undone and a bottle of beer ineither hand is a very particular fantasy he’s enjoying right now.

“How’re you holding up?” Ian asks, handing one of thebeers off to Mickey and sliding his free arm around Mickey’s waist. It’s prettyfucking ridiculous how quickly it makes Mickey relax but he figures he marriedIan for a reason.

When Ian had first told him about the benefit all theSouth Side emergency services were holding to raise money for a new hospitalwing Mickey had thought it sounded like his own personal version of hell. Buthe’d realised pretty quickly it was also Ian’s personal version of hell so he’dagreed to go.

Now that he’s here he’s gotta admit it’s not so bad.The charming, confident persona Ian used to wear back when he’d drag Mickey toafter-club parties back in the day seems come back to his husband easily enoughwith Ian flashing everyone hundred-watt smiles and schmoozing with thehigher-ups. There have been a few moments where Mickey’s felt uncomfortablestanding next to him but only because of his total lack of understanding aboutall the medical bullshit everyone is spewing rather than him actually feelinglike he’s being excluded from the conversation.

Plus, he can’t help the way he inwardly preens everytime Ian introduces him as his husband.

“’m surviving,” Mickey tells him, leaning into Ian’sside. “This place’s got good beer.”

“Its one saving grace,” Ian jokes, dropping a kiss onMickey’s temple. “Sorry, I know you’re probably bored. Just another hour or twoand we can hit the Alibi.”

The last thing Mickey wants to do is stay out evenlonger when Ian’s standing next to him looking like he does but he hums in acquiescenceanyway. Not like Ian’ll be complaining later on.

“It’s fine, man, I get it,” Mickey says, turning intoIan so they’re facing each other and putting his free hand on Ian’s hip. “You’restill on probation and it’s a fuckin’ miracle your old job even took you back.You need to stay here and act like employee of the month – I know the deal.”

Ian’s beaming at him by the time he’s finishedtalking and Mickey clears his throat, aware his ears are probably turning red.

“You’re the best,” Ian tells him, the words half lostto Mickey’s mouth as he darts in to kiss him.

“Yeah, yeah,” Mickey huffs when he pulls away, tryingnot to act as flustered as he feels. “You can show me how much you appreciateme later.”

Ian’s smile turns devilish and he uses the arm aroundMickey’s waist to draw him in closer. “Oh, I plan to.”

Mickey’s just about to incite a game of chicken whenIan suddenly freezes and Mickey raises his gaze from Ian’s mouth to his eyes.Turning to look over his shoulder he attempts to follow Ian’s gaze but there’stoo many unrecognisable faces around for him to tell who Ian’s looking at.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, squeezing Ian’s hip to gethis attention.

Ian blinks, looking back to Mickey with an expressionthat’s some weird mix of panicked, apologetic and determined. “My ex is overthere.”

Mickey whips around again to look before he remembershe has no clue what Ian’s ex even looks like. “The firefighter?” he guesses.

Ian nods, offering him a tight smile. “Caleb,” hesays. “It’s fine, I don’t think he saw me.”

Which is probably the stupidest fucking thing Iancould’ve said because, of course, five seconds later someone’s calling out adisbelieving, “Ian Gallagher?”

Ian plasters a fake smile on his face and Mickeytakes a moment to pray for patience before he turns around to eye up the guymaking his way towards them. He’s attractive, in that clean-cut all-American way.He looks like the very definition of normal which Mickey knows just translatesto boring in Ian’s brain.

Ian had told him a little about him when they’dtalked shit through in prison. Said he’d been Ian’s attempt at a “normal”relationship that didn’t require all that much emotional effort because he’dpretty much been trying to haul himself out of a depressive episode when they’dmet. He’d also admitted he’d been trying to shove Mickey out of his mind at thetime which had hurt but he gets it, he thinks. God knows, he’d tried to drinkIan away in Mexico. It doesn’t hurt all that much now with Ian’s arm around himand Ian’s ring on his finger.

“Hey Caleb,” Ian greets half-heartedly when Calebreaches them and Mickey takes a drink of his beer to hide his laugh. It’s astark contrast to the enthusiastic friendliness Ian’s been sporting all night.

“How’ve you been?” Caleb asks, all earnestness thatMickey doesn’t trust for a second. “It’s been what? Nearly four years?”

“Yeah, I guess about that,” Ian agrees, voicecompletely neutral. “I’ve been good. I’m-“ he pauses and looks down at Mickeywith a smile that makes his knees weak. “Well, I’m married now,” Ian says proudly, arm tightening around Mickey. “Thisis my husband, Mickey.”

Caleb’s mouth drops open in shock as his eyes flashto Mickey and Mickey immediately feels himself puffing up his chest. He’s readyfor whatever bullshit this fucker tries to throw at him.

“Wow,” Caleb splutters after a beat. “Congratulations.I- you’re his ex, Mickey, right?”

Mickey clears his throat and rubs at his eyebrow,pointedly using his left hand so he can show off his rings. “Not exactly his exanymore.”

“Right!” Caleb says quickly. “Sorry. You get what Imean, just- you two were broken up before.”

“Yeah, almost the biggest fucking mistake of my life,”Ian cuts in and he’s over-exaggerating a little for Caleb’s sake but Mickey canstill tell he means it. “No way am I letting him go again.” He directs the lastpart to Mickey and Mickey can only hold his gaze for a couple of seconds beforehe has to look away, throat feeling thick with emotion.

Caleb looks at a complete loss for words and Mickeyfeels privately vindicated. Yeah, gocrawl back to whatever hole in the past you came from, he thinksmutinously.

“That’s um- I’m glad you’re so happy,” Caleb says finallyand Mickey’s just narrowing his eyes to try and figure out if he means it whenhe hears another familiar voice calling his name.

“MickeyMilkovich?”

And Christ, Mickey never thought he’d ever be happyto hear a fucking cop calling hisname.

He promptly turns away from Caleb, hearing Ian’sexcuse of, “Sorry, an old friend,” before he turns with him and then they’reboth standing face to face with Tony fucking Markovich.

“Don’t tell me you’re a cop now,” Tony jokes andMickey had not expected him to lookso happy to see him.

“I don’t think they let ex-cons join the force,” hesays, blinking in surprise when Tony only laughs. Huffing an unsure laugh ofhis own, he nods in Ian’s direction. “Nah, I’m only here for Ian.”

“He’s my arm candy,” Ian cuts in, moving his arm fromMickey’s waist to drape it around his neck.

Mickey rolls his eyes but watches Tony carefully forhis reaction.

“Glad to hear you two worked shit out,” Tony says,looking painfully sincere, and since when the fuck did Tony the cop know theywere even together? “I was always rooting for you two.”

“I’ve got him locked down all official now,” Ianboasts, flashing his ring proudly at Tony.

“No way!” Tony exclaims, grin becoming impossiblywider. “That’s amazing, congrats! Let me get you two a beer later, consider ita belated wedding gift.”

Ian barks out a laugh beside him and Mickey is soconfused right now. “Hey, how’s your boyfriend?” Ian asks then. And what thefuck?

“We’re living together now,” Tony admits sheepishlyand before Mickey can stop himself he blurts out, “You’re gay?”

Tony laughs, rubbing his neck awkwardly. “Yeah, Ian hadthe same reaction when he discovered that little revelation a few years ago.”

“It’s Fiona’s fault,” Ian tells him conspiratoriallyand Mickey finds a laugh bubbling out of him unexpectedly.

“Dan’s around here somewhere,” Tony says, craning hisneck to scan the room. “Hey, how about I find him and we get that drink? I haveto hear the proposal story.”

“You sure?” Mickey scoffs. “It’s a long one.”

“Eh these things are always boring anyway,” Tonyshrugs, gesturing to the banquet hall at large. “It’ll keep me entertained forthe night.”

Ian snorts beside him and waves Tony away. “Go findDan. We’ll meet you at the bar.”

Tony nods before taking his leave and Mickeyimmediately twists to face Ian once he’s gone. “What the fuck just happened?”

Ian barks out a laugh, depositing his beer bottle ona nearby table to wrap both his arms around Mickey. “The cop that you used toterrorise as a teenager just saved you from an awkward encounter with my ex.That’s what happened.”

Mickey shakes his head in disbelief. “I’ve had a lotof fuckin’ weird social interactions when you’ve dragged me to this kinda shitbut that has to be the weirdest.”

Ian laughs again, hugging him close and pressing hislips to Mickey’s forehead. “Just accept the free beer and remember it’sprobably good for us to have a friend who’s a cop.”

“A gayfriend who’s a cop, apparently,” Mickey scoffs, leaning his forehead againstIan’s shoulder a moment later. “Tony better not cheap out on the beer.”

Ian rubs his hand across Mickey’s shoulder blades, breathinghim in. “Pretty sure he’s on better pay than both of us so I think we’re good.”

“Come on,” Ian says then, catching Mickey’s hands anddragging in the direction of the bar. “I’ll buy you a shot of tequila first tocalm you down.”

“I can think of something else that’d calm me down,”Mickey says pointedly, nodding in the direction of the bathroom and raising hiseyebrows.

Ian halts, sizing him up for a moment and Mickeyknows he’s won before Ian even opens his mouth.

“Tony won’t miss us for a couple of minutes, right?”

Mickey grins, triumphant, and begins towing Ian inthe opposite direction.

He could get used to these benefit things.

#gallavich #ian x mickey #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #shameless #Anon #asks #my fics

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ungallagher · 4 years ago

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( andrew scott, 43, cis male, he/him ) was that GETHIN GALLAGHER ? i heard a rumor they work for the WALSH family, but who knows for sure ? They can be a bit DEPENDENT & A WILDCARD, but I also heard they can be LOGICAL & THOROUGH. You’ll usually find them at CHICAGO LIBRARY in their spare time, when they’re not being on THE COUNCIL. You may want to keep an eye on that one ! ( fox, they/them, 24, pst, no triggers! )

hello my friends and welcome to another episode of ME SCREAMING! my name’s fox, i’m 24, and never learned how to fucking read. i’m excited to be back and hanging with y’all. my pronouns are they/them and i’m a film student from the pnw! today is gonna be a good day. here’s some things about this dude.

name: gethin gallagher. dob: may 1st, 1979 - taurus sun, scorpio moon, libra rising. occupation: council member. vague, and it'll stay that way. sexuality: homosexual. nationality: welsh. languages spoken: welsh, english, french, gaelic. hair color: black. eye color: brown.

gethin gallagher was born on a cold and wet morning in may 1976, and grew up in a town in wales with a name you probably can't pronounce. wales never proved itself to be a friend of his, but he was okay by that. it was never important to him to be in or out, but it kept him curious. as he went through school and gained a sense of self, gethin found it in his best interest to stay put.

ironically, cut to three years later. his father wakes him up on his birthday and tells him that they're getting in the car and leaving that night before supper his father, cedwyn, only told gethin that he had "found a better opportunity" and that he shouldn't worry about his mother not coming with them. within the next four years, he would forget what her voice sounded like. he had a fine relationship with both of his parents, but his lack of a mother figure in his life would soon hinder him in his adult years, teaching himself that it was okay to let things bottle up and sit in his chest. his mother stayed behind with his aunt, as they were currently working with the family tailor business and keeping themselves afloat as a promise to their grandmother as young girls.

yep, his dad knows he's gay. you won't find a tragic backstory here - at least, not in that aspect. they didn't talk about it, god forbid. the first conversation came three years of gethin already finding himself; not out of fear, but out of inconvenience. if he didn't say anything, it would hang in the air between them until the day he died.

when he left ireland, the disconnect between him and his father grew more apparent. to gethin, the less time they spent together, the better. as he got older, gethin was more okay with it than he expected. after living together for his entire life, he came to the conclusion that he was with the wrong parent. but there's no easy way to say that.

he grew up. his father passed. he cried until he threw up, for the first time in his life.

it isn't long before he packed his bags and hauled his ass to chicago. 25 and suffocating underneath the summer heat and winter freeze. the grit against his grain, or so he described the city. at first, he thought he could be a librarian, but he wasn't tame enough for that. after that, he was a bartender, but that ended after he broke his hand on the job. these days, he spends days at the library and nights at the second story bar - he'll buy you a drink if you smile at him enough. really, gethin's a nice guy; not a pushover, not naive, but not overbearing or cynical. he wants to do the right thing, and apparently, tne right things is working with one of chicago's biggest families.

ummm yes! ok! nice! now that we're all best friends, i can tell you that i still have so much plotting left for this dude and am super stoked to write with u all. this bio is just temporary until i actually finish, but here are some connections i'd love to have!:

- joined at the hip: these two stick by each other when in trouble - they don't even have to get along terribly well for it to work. seen by other people as inseparable. this can be an alternative to a best friend sort of thing, or just two people who don’t really get along well but still do things together because they like the dynamic

- friends with benefits: this is fun — maybe they’re not even hooking up, just passively flirting with each other. some can be shameless, others more secretive and choosing to keep it away from people, while some just show it off to the whole world. not necessarily a relationship, but not just friends either - this label can encompass the grey area between the two distinct platonic & romantic relationships, so go wild!!

- childhood best friends: sort of like a "wow, we were friends when i moved to ireland or the states, but now we've grown up and you're completely different but i'm exactly the same, what the hell are we gonna do now?"

- bad influence: gethin is a pretty good influence, but he's not a goody two shoes or anything. he's definitely the first kid at the sleepover who tells their parent to pick them up early but doesn't say it's because everyone is getting hammered. it would be fun to have someone around to get into "bad" situations with

#crimson.intro

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aedwardstyles · 5 years ago

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BOXER HARRY FANFIC (A/U)

(A/N): Hi everyone! i feel like every time i write for you guys it begins with an apology note but i’m trying to balance personal life and college life and that is not working very well as you can see xD. Hope you like this chapter. All suggestion, requests and opinions are open and appreciated. Love you all.

previous chapter can be found here

CHAPTER 7

Harry/reader

“Are you free 7 P.M on Friday? - H”

“Yeah I’m free. Why?”

“Found out about a good French place, thought we could try it out.”

“Sure, I’d like that.”

“Alright. I’ll pick you up. Good night.”

“You’re wearing this?”. Sahar said cocking an eyebrow up at me.

“What’s wrong with it?”. I exclaimed looking down at my attire. “(Y/N) this is not how you dress up for a date.” Sahar shrugged.

“It’s not a date, I told you.” I said while putting my hairbrush down, was a simple jumper and jeans too casual for meeting an old friend? Or was this a date and I hadn’t realized?

“Potato, potato same thing”. She said smirking up at me. “Come on let me get you something else,” sahar began rummaging through my closet turning it upside down just to find something better. “Come on Sahar, he’ll be here any minute” I huffed eyes diverting to the clock and the door every second.

“Here wear this”, she said handing me a white sundress, with small sunflowers patterned here and there, a round neckline and full sleeves. “It’s gonna be cold outside.” I said, “well more excuses for you two to cuddle eh?” Sahar countered while giggling. Knowing there was no way out of this I settled for it and quickly changed before Harry comes.

Just as I was wearing my pumps I heard a knock on the door, Sahar and I quickly locked eyes and she began smirking, “don’t you dare” I warned and she immediately bee lined towards the door. and as if the odds weren’t already in her favor my shoe wouldn’t fit and mentally cursed myself. Sahar had a habit of scaring away anyone who’d come to our door, she once made a pizza delivery guy cry (I'm not making this up)

Sahar quickly opened the door and there stood a very nervous looking Harry with a bouquet of sunflowers in his hand.

“Hi, I-I’m here for (Y/N).” Harry said nervously.

“Are these for her as well?” Sahar inquired

"Oh .Um yes.”

“She hates sunflowers and why are you wearing dark green she hates it, why is your hair all over the place have you not heard of a barber.” Sahar replied in a flat tone.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know” Harry mumbled nervously.

“Clearly, she also dislikes people who aren’t confident you have no chance mate.” Sahar said.

“No, that’s not true and his hair is just fine, Sahar stop torturing him.” I said giggling from behind coming up to greet Harry and relieve him from my roommate’s misery.

“You’re no fun.” Sahar huffed, “good luck on your date lovebirds.” she smirked and went back inside. “I’m sorry she has a habit of doing this.” I said to Harry while hugging him. “I’ve fought many big guys (Y/N) but this was my scariest encounter until now” he chuckled, “oh come on she’s not half bad” I chuckled hearing a small “heyyy” from Sahar down the living room.

“Are these for me?” I inquired pointing towards the sunflowers. “Oh, um yes” He said handing me the flowers. “I hope you like these.” “I think my choice of attire answers your question Harry Styles, come on let me put these in a vase and then we’ll leave.” I said amusingly.

“Oh sunflowers.” he said glancing towards my dress.

“Yup sunflowers.” I replied and he smiled at me.

“Okay I feel like this was a bad idea.” Harry huffed coming back to me out from the small restaurant.

“why?” I questioned.

“The guy’s English is absolutely horrendous and I don’t know French, love.” Harry chuckled and his little nickname made me absolute putty standing there, gosh (Y/N) get yourself together I mentally noted to myself.

“Oh, that’s no issue, I’ll handle it.” I shrugged, and proceeded towards the little French Deli leaving Harry confused. “Wait up, love.”

Entering the little place, I greeted the old French man managing the place. “bonjour, nous avons besoin d'une table pour deux” (Hello, we Need a table for two) i said.

“Oui Madame, suivez-moi" (yes ma’am follow me)

“See easy.” i smiled at Harry, who was looking at me quite amused. “Didn’t know you spoke french.” “Oh yeah i spent some time in French for a summer school learnt there.”

The Deli was a small one tucked in the corner of the street, something you wouldn’t really notice while passing by but some place you’d want to visit again and again. It was decorated with small paintings here and there, pendant lights towering over every table, an old Edith Piaf song playing lightly in the background. We sat down on our table a small one, tucked in the corner of the deli, away from all clatter. We ordered quickly and began chatting.

“i believe its time for me to add psychic to my resume now.” Harry spoke.

“How’s that.” I inquired, sipping my lemonade.

“Well i brought you sunflowers because i thought you’d like them and you turned up wearing a dress with them on it.”

“No Styles, you remembered from your subconscious because i had sunflowers planted in my garden back at home and they were my favorite.” i replied, smirking.

“You really have to burst my bubbles don’t you?” Harry said fake pouting, making me laugh.

Time slipped like sand from between fingers as we sat and caught up with each other. Harry and i talked about everything coming to imagination, from childhood memories to all that we’d missed over the course of time. Finally after we decided that it had gotten a bit too late we rose from our little spot tucked away in the corner and walked back to my place.

The walk was filled with bubbled laughter and old stories.

“I cannot even explain how embarrassed i was when i realized not only had i spilled coffee on someone but that someone was Liam fucking Gallagher.” i exclaimed while Harry cried with laughter as i explained my embarrassing accident from over two years ago, still mortified from it to this day.

“But why did you start crying.” Harry chuckled wiping tears from the corners of his eyes. “I don’t know Styles i was all over the place.” i exclaimed.

“Thank you by the way, I've never had a date in small France before.” i said , quickly realizing how I'd made things awkward by calling our evening a “date”. “i didn’t mean it that way it’s just Sahar kept calling it a date again and again and it got embedded in my brain and I-”

“It’s okay sunflower, i enjoyed it too.” Harry cut me off smirking. A red hue had already splashed itself over my face and as if i didn’t feel like an inferno already, Harry ducked in and placed a light kiss to my cheek. I could feel my breath being stuck somewhere in my lungs. He locked his mossy green orbs with mine and whispered, “is it okay if i kiss you?” “It’s more than okay” i replied. Slowly he leaned in placing one hand on my right cheek and one just on my lower back, pushing me closer to him, my hands resting just on his chest. I knew he could feel my heart beat from across the street, my goosebumps from under my dress,.

And just to pull the final trigger, he leaned in and slowly placed his cherry lips on mine. And at that very moment i could feel everything and nothing all together. I could feel the ground spinning beneath my feet but i could also feel as if i was floating. I could feel his lips molding roughly against mine but i could also feel his feather like fingers slowly caress my cheeks. I could see stars with closed eyes, i could feel my body temperature rise beyond safe limits and i could feel myself wanting this feeling for the rest of time.

Struggling to catch my breath a pulled a bit back and Harry could see my flushed state. “Are you okay, love?” He inquired, smirking because he knew the kind of effect he had on me. “Mhm, just a bit overwhelmed is all.” i replied. But before we could resume our activities his phone began ringing and he picked it up frowning. Whispering a few “okay’” and “yes’” he hung up and looked at me with a apologetic gaze. “I’m really sorry love but i have to go.” he said placing a chaste kiss to my cheeks and left me again, at the very same place, feeling baffled as before.

I slowly ascended the steps to my apartment feeling confused and somewhat stupid. What was Harry Styles trying to do? I fumbled with the keys and opened the door. Placing the keys in the bowl on the shoe rack next to the door, i took off my pumps with a thump and dragged my feet to the lounge where Sahar was laying on the couch, a bag of popcorn in her hands and an old episode of the Office playing on the telly. Sahar looked at me and smiled but instead of reciprocating her excitement i just turned towards the kitchen.

Soon after i could a hear a few thumps and short curses and footsteps after me. “Hey, what happened? How was it?” Sahar questioned me as i began filling a glass of water.

“He did it again.” i mumbled, sipping my water. “Did what again?” “Kissed me like something out of the notebook in the middle of the street and left 2 seconds later.” i huffed. “woah woah come here love and tell me everything in detail. I nodded and spilled all the details to her.

“(y/n) I know this seems weird but maybe he had something important or an emergency from work might have come up yeah? Don't stress love, he’s a nice guy i can tell. He'll contact you soon to apologize i just know.”

I nodded to Sahar and told her I'd be heading off to bed now since i was too tired from the evening. I took my makeup off, changed into some comfy sweats and layed in my bed, the large duvet engulfing me. Scrolling through some instagram before bed, a message from Harry startled me. At first i didn’t want to see it feeling too tired for anything but i decided against it and opened his message.

“Really sorry for leaving you without a proper goodbye, something important came up.”

“ this was strike two .”

“strike two?”

“Strike two of leaving me without saying goodbye.”

“Oh, I'm sorry love. I really didn’t mean to.”

“It’s alright H, just give me a heads up next time yeah.”

“it was a great evening by the way, i enjoyed a lot.”

“Likewise love, i haven’t enjoyed on a date this much ever”

“So it was a date then huh?” i smiled to myself at his sudden confession.

“Course it was, i don’t usually kiss “friends” like that in the middle of the street you know”

“I just know you’ll never let this go”

“You know me.”

“i enjoyed our “date” too.”

“Looking forward to another one then, i suppose?”

“Preferably where i get a proper goodbye.”

“You’re never going to let this go are you?”

“You know me too, Styles.”

“Let me sleep now, i have an early morning tomorrow.”

“Alright sunflower, sweet dreams. X.”

#Harry Styles #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #one direction fanfiction #harry styles rollingstone #harry styles gucci #harry styles blurbs

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myriadimagines · 5 years ago

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Just A Scrape

Mission: Impossible One Shot

Pairing: Reader x William Brandt

Other Characters: Ethan Hunt, Benji Dunn, Luther Stickell, Ilsa Faust

Warnings: violence and swearing

Request: “Gah I won't give up, tumblr can't hold me back, so a William Brandt oneshot, where reader is a fem!agent and the team goes on a mission, but it goes really bad and reader has to save Brandt, but she gets shoot in the process. Brandt is all panicky, but she says it's no big deal, but it is and they almost lose her. After she survives Brandt ends up confessing his feeling for her, and reader assures him she feels the same. Wooo I am so excited, I love you, thank you!! ��💕” – anonymous

Word Count: 2,939

A/N: sksjfshdf ok when mi: ghost protocol came out i had THE biggest crush on brandt and then it died down and then it deadass just came up to bite me in the ass again for no reason so i’m glad your request went through, bless u for requesting something for him, ily too and i hope you like it!!!! 💖💖💖also i am literally writing this in the office at work because i had to come in super early and i have an hour or two to kill so

please reblog/leave comments, they’re very much appreciated!

Your name: submit What is this?

Brandt has to use every ounce of self control he has, control every nerve in his body, not to smile with relief when Ethan assigns you to help Luther hack into communications and the building computers while him, Brandt and Benji infiltrate the office the team is currently watching from afar. Despite being just as competent as the rest of the agents, Brandt hates seeing you out in the field, finding himself constantly distracted by the worry of something happening to you. He can see the tiniest flicker of disappointment cross your face — he knows how much you like to be in the action, after all — but you simply nod at Ethan before looking over your shoulder to smile at Luther, who grins back at you.

“This should be an easy, in and out type of mission.” Ethan continues his debriefing, leaning against the table in front of him, covered in various photographs, folders and a blueprint of the building. The rest of the team intently listens, watching Ethan trace a finger along the blueprints as he explains, “Brandt and I will head directly up to Gallagher’s office to distract him, where Brandt will insert this key into his computer so Luther can gain access.”

Ethan slides a small device across the table as Brandt leans over to grab it, briefly inspecting it before inserting it into the pocket of his suit. Luther shoots him a look as he warns, “Don’t lose it.”

“Have a little faith, Luther,” you tease, and you exchange a smile with Brandt who can feel his heart skip a beat.

“We will keep him distracted long enough for Luther and y/n to gain access to his files, and they will also be monitoring phone calls and the security cameras within the building. Meanwhile, Benji is to go to their mainframe room for the rest of the files. Ilsa will be watching any activity going in and out of the building from the rooftop across the street.” Ethan gestures at Ilsa, who is dismantling her sniper rifle into a small case, and she snaps the bag closed before she zips up her leather jacket. Ethan’s eyes sweep the room, looking at everyone else as he asks, “Understood?”

Everyone nods before quickly getting to work, Luther quickly spinning around in his chair to his own desk, where he starts up his various computers while Benji pulls on his jacket. Ethan fixes his comms into his ear before adjusting the cuffs of his sleeve, and you walk up to Brandt as he secures his tie into place. Your hands brush his as you reach up to help him with his tie, and Brandt feels himself holding his breath as you adjust it slightly, before smoothing your hands down his chest, straightening his jacket. Taking a step back, you joke, “There. Now you look like a proper businessman.”

Brandt chuckles. “Thanks, y/n. Stay safe, okay?”

You look around the empty office the team is currently hiding in. Snorting, you respond, “Yeah, because I’m in a lot of danger here with Luther.”

Brandt shoots you a look as you laugh. Ethan approaches Brandt from behind, raising an eyebrow at him as Ilsa makes a head start, leaving the room to find a good stake-out spot. Benji slides his laptop into a briefcase, zipping it closed before announcing, “Ready!”

Ethan tilts his head towards the door, and Brandt gives you a small parting smile before the three of them head out. It only takes Ethan a few minutes after leaving before you hear his voice in your ear as he asks, “Brandt and I are in Gallagher’s schedule, correct?”

You sit down beside Luther, pulling your chair closer to the desk as you type a few things into the computer. Putting on a nasally, artificial voice which is supposed to mimic a receptionist, you respond, “Yes, Mr. Murray, you and Mr. Waller’s meeting with Mr. Gallagher is scheduled at ten o’clock, sharp.”

If you were with them, you would be able to see Brandt smile, shaking his head as Ethan responds. “Good. Thanks, y/n.”

“I’ve got eyes on you.” Ilsa’s voice pipes up, peering through the scope of her rifle as she sees Ethan and Brandt cross the street, entering the building. After a minute or two, she watches Benji follow behind, and she adds, “Good luck, boys.”

Ethan and Brandt head straight for the elevators as Benji splits off from behind them, taking a separate elevator to head to the mainframe room. He scans the ID card he had previously made against the door, allowing him access to the staff elevator, and as the doors slide close, he remarks, “Well, this is going relatively smoothly.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Benji.” Ethan murmurs under his breath as he and Brandt watch the numbers on their elevator climb, inching towards the top floor where the elite offices are located. “Stay focused.”

You flip through the security camera footage on your own computer, watching Ethan and Brandt stroll down the hallway, where they are met by your target’s secretary. After a brief conversation, she stands, smiling at them before leading them to Gallagher’s office. Beside you, Luther’s fingers are poised over the keyboard, patiently waiting for Brandt to make his move. Brandt slides a hand into his pocket as he reaches out to shake Gallagher’s hand with the other, he and Ethan glancing at each other before Ethan gestures to the magnificent view from the office, remarking, “You’ve got a pretty good set-up here, Mr. Gallagher.”

The target laughs, briefly turning around to gaze out the window, and the split second is all Brandt needs to reach under the table, plugging Luther’s device into the monitor before sitting down as Mr. Gallagher turns back around to face him and Ethan. Luther clicks away almost immediately, and it’s not long before you see a small bar appear on his screen, slowly incrementing towards being full as the percentage beside it ticks away. Cracking his knuckles, Luther tells Ethan, “The download started. Keep him busy for a couple minutes.”

Ethan plasters on a smile, turning on the charm he uses when the situation calls for it. He manages to navigate his way through a fake business proposal as Brandt nods along, nervously waiting for Luther to count down the percentage left to load before he and Ethan can leave. As if reading his mind, Brandt relaxes upon hearing your voice inform, “Twenty percent left, we’re almost ther-”

“Shit.” Ilsa interrupts, watching two black vans pull up outside the building. You and Luther exchange alarmed glances as Ilsa sees two squads of armed agents pull out, and she warns, “We’ve been caught. You’re out of time.”

Panic settles in as Ethan and Brandt look at each other, silently debating over their next move as you open up the security footage for just outside their office. Your breath hitches as you already see four armed men exit the elevator before the secretary points them down the hallway, and you’ve already grabbed your gun as you hear Gallagher’s voice from Brandt’s comms, a sinister tone laced in his words as he taunts, “Did you really think I wouldn’t know who you are, Ethan Hunt?”

“Get out of there, there’s four men outside!” you exclaim, sprinting out of the room as Luther yells separate instructions for Benji to safely navigate his way out of the building. You load your gun as you exit your building just in time to see the agents from inside the vans enter the building, ensuing screams from the workers as multiple men and women run out. They don’t give you a second look as you duck through the entrance, hiding behind a pillar while you watch the squads fan out, covering almost every elevator and staircase. You mutter a curse, struggling to come up with your next move when you suddenly hear the faintest, unmistakable thud of a body, and you look in the corner to see Ilsa dragging the unconscious agent she had just knocked out into the staircase. She dumps his body down, looking back and forth before holding the door open, catching your eye as she gestures for you to follow.

Meanwhile, in Gallagher’s office, Brandt lunges under the table just before Gallagher flips it over, snatching the Luther’s device before stuffing it into his pocket. He kicks out Gallagher’s feet from under him as Ethan pulls out his gun, turning around just in time as the agents kick the door down. Ethan fires at the first agent before ducking to the side, roughly pushing a chair into the next agent before picking it up and smashing it across his face. Brandt scrambles to grab his own gun, but cries out in pain as Gallagher stabs him in the leg with a letter opener fallen off the side of his desk, the bullet Brandt fires missing the target entirely as he shoots the floor instead. Despite the pain ripping through him, Brandt raises his arm to fire again, and he struggles against Gallagher as he grabs Brandt’s hands, attempting to wrestle the gun away from him as Brandt knows his strength is depleting. More shots are fired, including at the windows, and the glass loudly shatters as strong winds blow into the room. Brandt is well aware of how close him and Gallagher teeter at the edge of the now open windows, yet he can’t quite move away with the space on the other side of the desk occupied by Ethan and the two agents he is fighting against. Ethan grabs one of the fallen agent’s guns as he runs out of ammo, firing two shots into another agent’s chest before tipping over a bookshelf beside him, ducking behind it for cover as two more men file into the small office.

There are three distinct gunshots before the gunfire briefly stops, and Ethan sits up from behind the bookshelf to see you and Ilsa standing in the doorway, weapons drawn. You step over the fallen bodies, gun raised as you fire at Gallagher, who has managed to get Brandt into a chokehold. Brandt pushes himself away from Gallagher as he falls to the floor, and you rush to Brandt’s side as you notice the blood staining the floor around his leg.

“We’ve got to go.” Ilsa urges, looking down the hallway to make sure more agents haven’t appeared. “Benji has already made it out, and him and Luther are waiting around the back in the car.”

“Can you walk?” you ask Brandt, your hands hovering over his wound as you are unsure what to do. Brant nods at you, and you loop his arm over your shoulders, helping him to his feet as Ethan catches a newly loaded gun Ilsa tosses at him. The four of you set out, ducking into the nearest stairwell as Ilsa takes the lead and Ethan rounds everyone up from behind. She peers down the staircase, before signalling the all clear, and the four of you begin your descent. You can hear a door open above you, and Ethan whips around to fire at the two agents who enter the staircase. The door in front of you suddenly opens, revealing four agents, and Ilsa doesn’t waste any time opening fire. You grab your own gun as Brandt leans against the railing, and Ilsa takes a few steps backwards, an indicator for you to fall back, and you grab Brandt’s arm as you exclaim, “Come on!”

You push Brandt back up the stairs, and he stumbles forward as you turn to fire a few shots. One of the agents below suddenly shoots, and your gun clatters to the floor as you feel the bullet rip through your stomach. Brandt turns around, eyes widening as he shouts, “y/n!”

You collapse, attempting to press your hands down onto your wound, but all you can think about is how warm and how sticky your own blood is. Ethan jumps down from the flight above, swinging his legs over the railing as he kicks down an agent before helping Ilsa finish the rest off. Brandt kneels beside you, positioning you upright in his lap, his breaths becoming short as he panics, “y/n, I- shit, just… just… ah, stay with me-”

“What’s going on? Where are you guys?” Benji’s voice floods Brandt’s ear, but Brandt can barely hear him over the distorted haze that overcomes him. “Ethan? y/n? Brandt?”

“y/n- y/n’s been shot.” Brandt finally croaks out just as Ethan shoots the last agent in the stairwell. Him and Ilsa rush up to you as Brandt continues, “I- I-”

Ethan kneels beside you, pressing his hands down roughly on your wound to apply pressure. You scream in pain, attempting to keep your voice down through gritted teeth, and Brandt’s heart almost stops. He can’t bear to see you in this much pain, and his face contorts as he struggles to keep his emotions in check. You hold out your hand, which Brandt quickly grabs, and as Ethan applies more pressure, your hand grips tightly against Brandt’s.

“It’s, ah, just a scrape,” you attempt to joke as Brandt’s expression becomes increasingly nervous, yet Brandt doesn’t show any hint of a smile as he watches blood bubbling from your wound. Your head lolls to the side as you cough, “It’s fine.”

“Oh, it’s far from fine.” Brandt snaps, catching your head in his hand as he turns you to face him. He tries to ignore the blood, your blood, staining his hands that is now on your face as he continues, “You are not allowed to die, you hear me? Don’t you even dare-”

Yelling from a few floors down interrupts Brandt, and he looks up in alarm at Ethan. Ilsa peers down the staircase before turning to the three of you, loading her gun as she says, “Three floors down.”

Had it been anyone else, anyone else, Brandt knows he would be able to think straight. Knew he would be able to come up with a plan to somehow face off against whatever agents came your way and still get everyone, injured and all, out of the building. But because it’s you, because it has to be the one person on the goddamn team he just had to fall for, his brain is a frazzled mess — all he can think about is how he can’t lose you, especially since you had got shot trying to get him to safety.

“Can you hold them off?” Ethan looks up at Ilsa, who’s eyes flicker to your wound before looking back at him and nodding. “Or distract them, at least, lead them somewhere else. Brandt, you go with her.”

“No.” Brandt shakes his head firmly. “No, I’m not leaving-”

“y/n is losing a lot of blood, and she’s only going to lose more the longer we stay here and don’t get her someplace safe.” Ethan cuts Brandt off harshly, and Brandt falters. “You can’t carry her, not with your leg, but you’re mobile enough to give Ilsa back up. I’ll get y/n to Benji and Luther, and we’ll all meet at the car, got it?”

The yelling gets louder now, and Brandt knows he has no choice. Ethan takes your gun and hands it to him, and Brandt looks down at you — but you have already passed out.

—

“y/n?”

Brandt’s voice is muffled, barely cutting through the fog that fills your head as your eyelids flutter open. You blink a few times, adjusting to the light as you see Bradnt’s silhouette hovering above you, and you shake your head before everything slowly comes back into focus. Brandt lets out an audible sound of relief, and it is then you realize his hand is firmly clasping yours. Instinctively, you squeeze it, and the faintest smile appears on Brandt’s face as his eyes flicker down to your intertwined fingers.

“Feeling better?” he asks, and you nod, sitting upright slightly as you peer under the thin blanket to see bandages wrapped around your abdomen. “Ilsa stitched you up.”

You weakly gesture to Brandt’s own patched up wound. “Are you okay?”

His eyes briefly flicker down to his calf before looking back up at you. He shrugs before deadpanning, “It’s, in your words, just a scrape.”

He smiles as you let out a soft chuckle. “I may have misjudged the situation.”

“Huge understatement.” Brandt replies, and you laugh some more, and Brandt feels on top of the world being able to get you to smile. His thumb brushes over yours, and he allows himself to feel more vulnerable than he ever has been as he confesses, “I don’t ever want to lose you, y/n.”

You pull your hand away from his to reach up, caressing his face, and he closes his eyes as he savors your touch. “You won’t.”

“I love you.” he suddenly blurts, eyelids snapping open upon realizing what he had just confessed. You mirror a similar shock, before you smile at him, and Brandt flusteredly continues, “That- that was unprofessional, I’m sorry-”

“I love you too, Brandt.” you reassure him, placing your hand back over his, and you can see him smile at you, his whole body instantly relaxing.

“Really?” he asks, and you nod, and Brandt feels as though nothing in the entire world could make him happier. He lifts up your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, and you can feel him smiling against your skin. “No more scrapes, promise?”

You laugh. “Promise.”

tags: @fairytalesforever / @egg2k16 ↳ want to be added to the tag list?

#mission impossible imagine #william brandt imagine #mission impossible #mission impossible one shot #william brandt #william brandt one shot #reader x william brandt #william brandt x reader #one shot #imagine #imagines #reader inser #oneshot #the ending............... not to like toot my own horn or anything but like..... Soft

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unbridgeabledistances · 4 years ago

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some ian/mickey prompts! (this is not a demand, just some ideas☺️)

• waking up/going to sleep

• cuddling

• domestic scenes in general

• hurt/comfort scenarios

• being in each other’s company (like ur recent fic) and falling in love with each other again

I really don’t know how to describe but I hope these are enough?

<3 ah thank u so much for these ideas anon! i couldn’t fall asleep last night bc i was stressed about a bunch of stuff, so i started to write this little bit of nighttime fluff that seems to fit with your requests:) i hope u enjoy!!

a drabble where ian can’t sleep, and mickey comforts him (can be set as a little coda to 11x05)

It was the dead of night at the Gallagher house— Ian was staring up at the ceiling, his eyes trying pierce through the blanket of darkness to count the cracks in the crumbling plaster above him and listening for something, anything, to distract his mind and finally get him to go the fuck to sleep. But it was no use— it was so late that even the usual summer chatter that bubbled up from the South Side street corners into open windows on wafts of summer air had stilled, leaving Ian sweaty and tired and restlessly laying in bed. Ian was more than tired; he was fucking exhausted, his eyes red-rimmed and scratchy and his muscles tense and rigid. Most nights Ian slept well, or slept okay at the least—he kind of had to learn to sleep in any situation after sharing a room with Lip and Carl and Liam for his entire childhood, always plagued with slamming doors and shouting voices. It wasn’t noise that usually kept Ian awake on nights like tonight, it was silence— a deafening, pounding silence that felt like it was crawling under his skin.

He looked over at Mickey, curled tightly on the opposite side of the bed, facing the wall with his arms around his chest and the covers practically up to his chin, the only really visible part of him the sliver of pale skin at the back of his neck that reflected the gauzy moonlight that was streaming in through the blinds. Ian noticed how comfortably Mickey’s face was pressed into the pillow, with even breaths escaping his half-open mouth, and instantly felt a pang of envy. That was the thing about Mickey—he never really had trouble sleeping. Mickey could always drift off the second he hit the sheets, whatever voices that lived inside his head easily quieting when the lights were dim and the world was still. Ian didn’t get it—the voices in his head always ramped up when the lights turned off, always churned and swirled and made him question his entire existence in the stagnant, pitch-black silence— and usually Ian could quiet them, after a little while, but on a night like tonight Ian knew he’d be stuck in the spiral, with his heart racing, until the sun came up. He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, trying to will his body to relax.

Ian could feel an odd sense of panic bubbling up in his throat as he laid there unmoving, feeling suffocated by the heat of the deep, dark night pressing in on him. His legs felt tingly and restless, and his head was throbbing because of how tired he was but the static in his mind kept whirring, like a broken radio set to the wrong frequency. He sighed loudly, letting the air burning in his lungs fizzle out of him, just wanting to penetrate the thick silence. He just wanted to be asleep—he was supposed to get up early to put the coffee on before Lip had a job interview, and then he wanted to go for a jog before he and Mickey had a shit ton of weed runs to do that would jam-pack the entire day tomorrow…

Beside him, Mickey shuffled beneath the covers. Ian froze. Fuck, he did not want to wake Mickey up right now. Mickey was crabby and groggy on the best of mornings, but when he didn’t get enough sleep he was truly a force to be reckoned with.

Unfortunately, Ian’s prayers went unanswered. Mickey drew in a deep breath, rustling under the sheets once more.

“Okay Gallagher, what’re you sighing for?” Mickey’s flat, muffled voice piped up from under his blanket cocoon, low and throaty and full of sleep. He sounded exasperated and deflated, and definitely not fully awake.

Ian let out another long breath, more quietly this time. “Nothing, Mick. Go back to sleep.”

But of course, instead of listening, Mickey aggressively yawned and turned over, stretching to shift his body weight and turn onto his opposite side to face Ian. Ian just remained where he was laying, his head lying limp and heavy on the pillow while he stared up at the ceiling.

Mickey dazedly rubbed his eyes, noticing that Ian was fully awake. Immediately, Mickey shook off the sleep that was clouding his eyes. He stared at Ian for a moment, his eyes wide and searching. After a moment, almost on reflex, he carded a quick, gentle hand through the front of Ian’s hair as he leaned in closer.

“You feeling okay?” Mickey’s voice was distant and drowsy, like he was still half-asleep but trying to will himself to wake up.

Am I feeling okay? There was so much latent meaning wrapped up in that question, and Ian felt a cavernous gratefulness bloom in his chest that this was the way Mickey asked—he wasn’t assuming that Ian being manic was the reason that he couldn’t sleep, but he didn’t rule it out either. Mickey was just waiting for Ian to tell him what he was feeling, what he needed, without assuming anything about Ian’s brain before Ian did.

Am I feeling okay?

Ian swallowed, his glassy eyes still fixated on the cracks in the ceiling that he could barely make out in the dark.

“Yeah. S’not anything to worry about, I’ve been taking my meds. I’m just… stressed out I guess.” Ian could hear the fatigue dripping from his voice as it glided across the darkness.

Mickey was still staring at Ian, his gaze piercing and concerned.

“Stressed out?” Mickey questioned lowly, like he’d never heard the two words before.

“Yes, Mickey, stressed out. I don’t know, it’s fucking stupid, just go back to bed.” Ian sighed in frustration.

Instead, Mickey shifted again, propping himself up on his elbow and leaning fully on his side, looking like a teenage girl at a sleepover who was ready to hear some juicy gossip.

“Well I’m awake now, mouth-breather, so why don’t you tell me what you’re worried about?”

Ian gave a quiet, strangled chuckle. What the fuck was he supposed to say? It just fucking sucked to not be able to sleep, to lie there frustrated with dry eyes and a parched throat, grasped tight in the clutches of whatever worries were lying hollow and dark in the pit of his stomach and not being able to do anything about it.

Ian knew it was stupid, but for the last few months he had been pretty much the only one worrying about keeping things together— getting steady money, putting aside fucking savings, trying to keep the house intact and fill the gaping hole Fiona left behind that Ian still just didn’t fit into right, for the sake of Liam and Franny and Carl now that Lip had moved out. Ian had never really given a shit about money, until he had to start caring about everyone else—and it didn’t bother him, it really didn’t, but now that Ian was caught in this fucking sticky silence, he realized how much worrying about taking care of everyone else was actually wearing him down, grinding away at him bit by bit without him noticing.

He exhaled a heavy, trembling breath.

“Just. I don’t know. Worried about money, I guess? And worried about our job. I know we agreed on guns, and I totally fucking get that now, but I’ve never done a job that’s so… dangerous? And then I’m panicking because what if we make total asses of ourselves with this business bullshit and fail and lose everything, and then we’d be back to square one…”

Mickey just sat there perched on his elbow, listening. He wordlessly reached to press the pad of his thumb to Ian’s forehead, above his eyebrows, smoothing the worry lines and creases that started to bloom there as Ian spoke.

“And I just… I don’t know, my heart’s just fucking racing for some reason tonight and I can’t make it stop.”

Mickey continued to silently run his thumb gently on Ian’s face, tracing above his eyebrow and the side of his temple in a soothing pattern that made Ian’s eyes want to flutter shut for the first time in hours.

“S’there anything I can do?” Mickey’s gravelly, sleepy voice cut through the darkness.

Ian peeled his eyes from the ceiling, and shifted them to meet Mickey’s. He was still staring down at Ian with searing concern, like Ian’s stupid fucking worries were a big deal if they were making him feel this distressed.

“It’s fine, Mick. Just get some sleep.” Ian held Mickey’s gaze for a moment, expecting him to turn back over and wrap the blankets around himself.

Instead, Mickey curled closer, draping a heavy arm over Ian’s waist, followed by a thick and heavier thigh between Ian’s legs, his nose nuzzling into the side of Ian’s neck. Ian froze, just for a moment—Mickey definitely usually wasn’t the one to initiate tender touches of intimacy, but he was half-asleep and he knew how much Ian needed this right now, knew it would calm his racing heart down to a steady beat. Instantly, Ian felt something, some heaviness that was burrowed deep in his chest, dissipate at Mickey’s touch.

“Mick,” Ian said. There was something in his lungs, in his throat, on his tongue. He didn’t know what it was. All he knew is that his heartbeat was slowing, his blood was running through his veins at a normal speed again, and the pressure building in his head starting to dissipate.

“This okay?” Mickey was almost asleep again, and mumbled the words into the crook of Ian’s neck, his breath tickling Ian’s chin.

Ian breathed out with relief, curling a hand over Mickey’s shoulders and drinking in the feeling of Mickey’s warm skin nestled against his, a grounding, solid weight holding him at bay. “Yeah, this is good.”

#wishing u sweet dreams wherever u are <3 #am i just fully projecting onto ian in this one??? yes #gallavich #gallavich fic #shameless #shameless fic #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #ian x mickey #ian and mickey

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soreavs · 5 years ago

Text

⌠ RYDER MCLAUGHLIN, 20, CIS MALE, HE/HIM ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, SOREN AVERY! according to their records, they’re a FIRST year, specializing in UNDECIDED; and they DID NOT go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of hands crossed tightly over his chest, the uneven collar of a muddied school uniform and a reluctant smile. when it’s the virgo’s birthday on 10/27/1999, they always request their POTATO DUMPLINGS from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation.

hello again , i couldn’t help but bring in a new chara !! unlike lucie, soren is a completely new character, so i rly went all in . i’m gonna tldr his bio as much as i can but this intro post will mostly be about his personality and some wcs , b/c i wrote a full bio which u can read here ! it explains everything in far more detail , but it’s a beefy boi , and also tw for, death, delusional disorder, implied suicide, implied murder . i’ll be yeeting out a starter soon but as always , please feel free to slither into my dms or ims !

okay so my tldr of my bio is gna sound kinda .. crass cos im truly just stating what happened but i understand that not everyone has the time to read long ass bios so please forgive if this sounds v apathetic to some of the traumas he endured.

biography

mother left when he was born, leaving him with his dad and twin sisters who are eight years older than him. she apparently left for work with the intention of coming back, but never did. his family was always religious but turned to a strain of evangelical christianity which was very intense. when his sisters grew up they prevented him from attending. his life has been characterized by death or disappearances, four in particular. 1) his mother, who he never really knew. 2) his baseball coach who he knew well 3) his grandpa and 4) his sister. he never really processed this as grief because he had a really really overactive imagination and a rly fluctuating support system. he watched a lot of alien movies, and because his grandpa who had dementia was always going on about aliens he really started to believe that their disappearances had something to do with aliens. his father just believed he was enthused about aliens, space and physics, but never knew how that was affecting his grieving processes. it kinda all blew up in his face, when he was eighteen and his sister went missing after an argument with his dad. seven months later after the body is never found but there are indications that she may have been murdered, they have a funeral. he doesn’t believe she’s really dead, and he’s sure that he, like his mom, grandpa and sisters are in some part alien. he tells this to his sister and dad and they immediately send him to get help. because that drains them of all funds (they even have to ask extended family to help out), he feels super ashamed, but remembers the letter from gallagher he’d gotten just before he graduated high school. since it’s free and prestigious he hopes to make up for some of the harm he caused them, even though the faintest part of him still believes there’s something amiss with their disappearances. it’s likely his mother was a spy, and never told any of her family, but has somehow been trying to protect them over the years and that his sister is somewhere alive but yeh!

personality

bb boi is rly just trying to recover from his whole life lmao .. he had baseball friends and school friends, but never rly friend friends?? he’s always been an athlete and gotten very good grades which is why his father kinda overlooked what else may had been going on with him??

anyways, he’s a bit shy at first but he’s pretty crackable dhjfg like an egg , just one tap on the table and he’s a gooey mess . still at the point where all he wants to talk about is aliens but as per his therapists advice, he’s trying to tone it down

spy school wise ?? he’s into it , definitely , there’s always something to keep his mind occupied , with the extensive library and gym and pool , it’s more than enough . he did cross country and baseball in high school so he has the agility, but a binch is scared for bootcamp have u seen his twig arms

also he’s undecided in his major b/c he wants to try everything but also he’s just a mess , he’s into this but also lowkey his main factor when deciding was the rep it had to outsiders and the fact that it was free

he’s p soft spoken even when he’s excited , only a sliver of what goes on inside his head makes it out in the world wide world dfjhgk .. just realized none of this shit is personality based what can i say i have no braincells

he’s nice! a little sensitive, a little moody, a little disconnected, can be chatty but can also be very nervous to talk in general constantly second guessing himself boom .

wanted connections

lit rally anyone who’s an Expert in their major because he’s undecided but also a binch could have probably been valedictorian in the class had things not gone off the deep end towards the end of the year , so he wants to do well obviously . so one person for each major maybe ? he Shall rise as the King Of Jack of All Trades

a solid friend group ? maybe a best friend? has never had one of those, sounds nice .

jogging buddy .. he likes to run . it’s nice to run with someone . or so he’s heard , has also never done it .

he’s in first year so the likelihood of exes is a lil slim , but i wld be down to plot smth that just didn’t work out cos he was not in the right mental frame at all like two weeks into starting Spy School and trying to hold a relationship . it would have been a v short term thing !

someone who tempts him to talk abt aliens , but to the point where it sounds crazy , or alternatively someone to suggest that someone in his family prolly had something to do with spydom

hookups mayhaps

anything else come @ me !!

#gallagher:intro #it's ya Boi #Skinny Penis #listen im sry my thing atm is getting wayyyy Too Invested in LA/NY celeb subcultures #n im in skate culture rn .. but at least ryder Acts unlike cough #alana #so we will be having some nice seksi big gifs

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karaeww · 7 years ago

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A quiet dinner

Request: Can I request a Carl smut where like he fingers u somewhere he's not supposed to like during class or near other people or something and like teases u and then later they have sex? No pressure but it would be great if u wrote it! Ur others smuts r amazing btw Thanks:)

uhh sorry i’ve been dead i am a busy girl

Word Count: 1,735

You and Carl came from different worlds. You weren’t from the south side, and when you started attending his high school, you were the outcast. Your expensive clothes and name brand lunches set you apart from the rest of the south side high schoolers. You moved to Chicago after your parents split, and your dad brought you back to his hometown. Everyone viewed you as a rich bitch even though you were in the same boat as most of them. A lot of the guys hit on you, or tried to get you in bed, always wanting to be the one banging the rich girl. You turned down everyone and your reputation grew from rich bitch to rich prude. Carl, however, interested you. He had been sporting cornrows for your first few weeks in town, and he had recently taken them out. After this, his attitude changed as well. So after months of continuous flirting, you agreed to let him walk you home from school. At the end of your last class you found him waiting in the hallway.

“Didn’t forget? Surprising.” You comment while you both walk outside.

“Could never forget about you babe.” He says smiling at you.

“Do you actually want to walk me home? or is there some ulterior motive?” You ask honestly. You know he doesn’t give a shit about walking you home safely.

“I still can if you want. But I wanted to ask you something.” He paused and gave you a hopeful smile, making you slightly nervous. “Will you eat dinner with my family tonight? I told them I had a girlfriend as an excuse to stay out all night, and now they want me to bring someone over.”

“Sure. Dinner with the Gallaghers should be fun.” You had heard all the stories about his family, they seemed exciting. He looked surprised by your answer.

“Wait-Really?”

“Why not? I’m not as much of a bitch as everyone thinks. I’m also not a prude.” You say with a wink. “Lead the way.” He smirks and pulls you with him towards his neighborhood.

As you enter his house you drop your bags and groan.

“How do you walk that far everyday? I run track and that was hard.” You say pulling your hair out of your face.

“You live even farther away than me.” He says tilting his head towards you.

“I have a car.”

“Oh right. Sometimes I forget your not from here.” He says while you walk into the living room and are greeted with another Gallagher.

“This the girl?” A boy with shaggy hair asks gesturing to you.

“This is the girl.” Carl concludes.

“I’m Y/N, nice to meet you.” You say offering your hand and a smile. The boy shoots Carl a confused look before accepting your hand.

“Lip. You from around here?” He says before turning to walk back into the kitchen.

“No, I moved here a few months ago.” You and Carl follow him into the kitchen and are greeted with what you think is the rest of the family.

“Ahh, new girl. I’m Ian.” A red haired boy says.

“Y/N.” You offer your hand again but he looks down at it and laughs.

“Alright, That’s Fiona, Debbie, and Liam.” Carl says pointing to the people moving about the kitchen.

“Hi! Debbie get the bread out of the oven, it’s burning.” Fiona says while bustling around with dishes and trays of food.

“Carl help, please!” Debbie says before shoving a stack of plates into his hands.

“I can do it.” You say quietly before taking the plates from his hands and placing them on the table.

“She’s helpful, looks like a model, and has manners. Carl how much are you paying her?” Ian teased. Carl responded with a middle finger that was swatted down by Fiona. Soon the plates of food were sat on the table and everyone took a seat.

“So, Y/N, tell us more about you.” Lip asked slyly.

“Um, What do you want to know?”

“Where your from, hobbies, whatever you want to share.” He seemed to be asking only to taunt you.

“New York. I’m on the track team. I live with my dad.” You say while starting to eat the pasta that was put on your plate. You jumped slightly when you felt something touching your leg.

You glance down and saw Carl’s hand wrapped around your thigh. You shoot him a look and he just smirks back and joins in the ongoing conversation. He slowly brings his hand up more and more. His hand is wrapped around your upper thigh and he is starting to bring it closer to your inner thigh. You remain quiet but swat his hand away and glare at him again. He ignores you and he starts to rub your crotch through your thin panties. He continues eating and conversing with a slight smirk on his face. You scoot closer to the table to try and further conceal his wandering hands.

“I ran track in high school too. Is it something you enjoy or something your parents make you do?” Fiona asked looking up at you from across the table.

“Uh, more of an enjoyment thing. My dad likes me having something to do,” You stop talking to hide a gasp. Carl had switched from moving his fingers against the fabric to pushing a finger inside of you in one swift motion. Instead of finishing your sentence you just smiled and pretended that’s all you had to say.

“What made you interested in Carl?” Ian asks.

“He-His-He’s nicer than the other guys.” You say unconvincingly as Carl continues to speed up his fingers and make you squirm in your seat. The family stares at you with a confused look but then goes back to eating as if they are used to this. Surprisingly, nobody seems to notice your shaking hands or your changing facial expressions.

Carl used his thumb to rub your clit, and you lost it. Your legs shook harder and you sat your fork down, gripping the table. As you came down from your high you looked over at Carl for the first time since he began fingering you. You glared up at his smug face and you pushed his hands away from your lap. When you looked back up at the table Lip was staring at you and laughing softly. Your cheeks were flushed with color, a combination of recent events and embarrassment.

You flattened your skirt out against your legs and you stood up quickly, pushing your chair in.

“Excuse me.” You say giving the table a sweet, innocent smile. You walked into the nearby bathroom you had spotted earlier. When you turned to close the door you could see the whole family glaring at Carl. When the door was closed you leaned against it and breathed out. You hadn’t expected Carl to do that, especially with his family right there. You enjoyed it, and it was fun to step out of your usual box of vanilla sex, but you were scared shitless. As you tried to straighten out your appearance you heard the conversation returning on the other side of the door. You heard Lips muffled voice talk first.

“You just finger her?” He says and you can hear his laughter.

“Oh god, please say you didn’t.” Debbie said with obvious annoyance and discomfort. Your blush returned and your face felt hot again.

“Never a bad time for it.” Carl says and the table erupts with groans.

“And here we thought you brought home a nice girl, not another trashy one!” Ian said, offending you slightly. Although you felt trashy at the moment, this was way out of character for you.

“She is not trashy. If she was, I wouldn’t have had to push back so much fabric.” Another round of groans erupted from the table.

“Alright I’ve had enough. Carl, keep that shit in your room, or better yet, out of the house!” Fiona semi-shouts. She pauses, and you hear the clacking of a few plates hitting each other. “And please wipe your hands before touching anything.”

You slowly opened the bathroom door and are faced with lots of stares.

“I’m-Um gonna head out. Thanks for dinner!” You say while speed walking to the front door.

“Hold up Y/N!” You hear Carl say before rushing behind you. He wraps an arm around your waist and grins down at you.

“Carl that wasn’t funny. I don’t like people viewing me like that. I’d rather everyone think I’m a prude then ‘another trashy one’” You say with air quotes on the last part.

“Come on, don’t be mad..You loved that.” He said nodding his head towards you and raising his eyebrows.

“That was the most stressful orgasm I’ve ever had.” You said with a straight face. “I’m serious though, Don’t pull shit like that again.”

“Are you confirming that I will have another opportunity to?” Carl said smiling.

“We’ll see. I really do have to leave. I have a psych exam tomorrow and an all night practice. Bye, Gallagher.” You said opening the door to leave, you turned back and gave him a sly wink before closing the door in his face. Once again you listened to muffled voices on the other side of a door.

“She has a psych exam? Smart girl. What’s she doing with you?” You hear Lip teasing his brother again.

“Fuck off. At least I get to fuck a smart girl who was born in the same decade as me.” You don’t understand that comment, but your sure you will soon enough.

You start to walk down the steps and farther out into the cold Chicago weather when you heard the door open again behind you. You turned to face the sound while rubbing your arms with your hands, trying to warm up in your thin clothes. Your greeted with the same smiling face you saw moments ago.

“Figured it’s late and I could redeem my pass to walk you home.” You gave him a look.

“You sure? It’s a lot farther to my house then it is to the school. I can handle myself.”

“I’m sure you can Princess. But someones gotta keep you safe and warm.” He said walking next to you and wrapping his arm around your shoulder. You smiled and leaned closer to his chest.

“We aren’t fucking at my house either.”

#Carl Gallagher #carl gallagher imagine #carl gallagher smut #carl gallagher fanfiction #Shameless US #shameless smut #shameless imagine

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shamelessly4shameless-blog · 7 years ago

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The Future Set Free - Trigger warning.

This is something I have been mulling over all day. I don't actually know why all of this Gallavich stuff is pouring out of me at the moment, I've written thousands of words in three days, but I can't concentrate on writing anything else so I am going with it and thank you to everyone who is travelling this with me and encouraging me along the way.

This piece follows Mickey from age 4 to 18. It is grim because I think Mickey's childhood was probably grim. But there is hope within it and if Gallavich teaches us anything it is that where there is hope, love can spring eternal.

Trigger warning - this piece contains allusions to child abuse and although it is nothing that the show doesn't prepare us for, I am aware that seeing it written can be very difficult.

He’s four years old, his bedsheets are cold and wet and he can hear the TV in his father’s room which means Terry is awake and if he is awake then Mickey can’t get to the laundry shoot and dump his wet clothes and bedding because he might get caught and getting caught is more terrifying than the dream which caused the accident. He slips out of his pants and stuffs them as far under the bed as he can and tugs off his t-shirt, using it to try and soak up as much of the pee as he can. He’s trying not to cry, trying not to make a single sound. The TV shuts off and he freezes, his heart pounding so loud in his ears that he is convinced the whole house will hear. The hallway light shuts off and he is plunged into darkness, his arms trembling as he listens to his Dad cough, light a cigarette, cough again and finally, mercifully, kick his bedroom door shut.

He is seven years old. He’s been crying because he brought a cat home to be his pet, but it ran away as soon as the back door got opened. His older brother sees his eyes are red and pushes him against the wall, Mickey’s head hits the corner of his Dad’s liquor cabinet and for a moment the world seems to tilt and then there is a burst of blinding pain and he is crying again. His Dad comes out of the bedroom with a woman Mickey doesn’t recognise and asks him if he wants to shut up or get something to really cry about? The woman tells Terry that Mickey is cute and sways towards him, her lips a painted bright pink and she smells like the burger shop he walks past on his way to school. Mickey wipes his eyes and tries to stop hiccuping, his head is bleeding and the woman cups his face in her hands telling him he’s going to grow up so handsome, she tells him she’ll fuck him one day and behind her Terry laughs and tells Mickey to feel her tit. Mickey does as he is told and both adults laugh. His Dad gives him a dollar and tells him to get himself a pop or something and stay out of the fucking house.

He’s nine, it’s his birthday, he doesn’t have a cake or balloons but he has his first pack of smokes and his first beer and he feels sick and light headed before he finishes either. The beer is bitter and he pulls a face. His Dad slaps his left cheek, a warning slap. It stings but it doesn’t even knock him out of the chair. Mickey is careful not to pull any more faces, he is grateful and he finishes the beer. Mandy has drawn him a picture and he wants to tell her it’s good but his brother tells her it’s dumb and Mickey agrees. His Dad nods in approval and tells Mandy to go find something she’s good at. Mandy doesn’t cry, she’s already better than Mickey at controlling that.

He’s eleven and he’s outside the principles office. He’s been there since first period. It’s nearly three. This is his fifth fight of the week and it’s only Tuesday. The kid he beat up was collected by his Mom ages ago. As they walked past him, she scolded Mickey and said that he needs his behind spanked and Mickey sneered at her with contempt. If that is worst thing she can think of then it is no wonder her son is a fucking pussy. He doesn’t say that though, he just spits at her. She isn’t worth more energy than that. The principle has told him that his father has been called and Mickey is to sit there until he shows up. Mickey knows he’ll spend the day on that chair, he knows he’ll sit there until the principle realises what Mickey has known all along, Terry isn’t coming. No one asks what caused the fight and that is just as well because Mickey would never tell them that the boy he beat up made Mickey’s chest feel tight, that the way the sun caught his red hair and made it look aflame made Mickey’s fingertips tingle with the urge to touch it. He wouldn’t have been able to articulate how badly he wanted to kiss the boy’s mouth and how terrifying that was to Mickey, there isn’t much worse in this world than being a fag, Terry has told him this and Mickey believes it. When he gets home Terry doesn’t look up from the TV, just tells Mickey to bring him a beer. “Did you kick his ass?” He grunts as Mickey hands it to him “Yeah Dad.” “Good. Bag is on the side.” Mickey takes the bag and goes out to run his errands, tucking the gun his father has given him into the back of his pants. He comes back a while later and hands his father the cash. It is exactly right. Mickey took ten dollars once. Terry made sure that Mickey only did it once. Mickey’s nose twitches and his left eye blinks almost uncontrollably as Terry counts the money and he feels sick even though he already knows the money is exact. Mickey thinks of this feeling as ‘home’ he doesn’t recognise it as fear.

The Milkovich’s aren’t Jewish but Mickey is thirteen which means he is a man now. He gets his first tattoo. He smokes his first joint. He smokes regular tobacco daily now but the joint is a revelation. His father buys him his first fuck. Mickey feels kind of repulsed by the woman Terry picks, she looks young but her skin is flaccid and so is Mickey’s cock. She keeps going though and finally he manages something which satisfies her and she lets him go back out to his fathers and brothers. Mickey is aware that they are cheering, laughing, teasing him and slapping his back but it all seems really far away and Mickey is glad about that. He pushes what he is feeling down as far as it will go and forces himself to smile at his family. Later that night he is flicking through a magazine and an advert for male underwear catches his eye. Next to it is a female perfume add. Both of them have scantily clad models and Mickey takes it into the bathroom. He tries to keep his eyes on the perfume model, but they keep straying to the underwear model. He tries to focus on her long legs and parted lips, but he is drawn to the wide shoulders and narrow hips of the man. He throws the magazine at the wall and closes his eyes to finish but even behind his closed eyelids he sees the flat sculpted chest and chiselled jaw tasked with selling Calvin Klein.

He’s seventeen and his sister is crying because some punk has pissed her off, some little fuckwad called Ian Gallagher. He knows who the Gallagher’s are and he knows that this one works at the Kash and Grab. Mickey goes over with his brothers. He is still the shortest, still the one his Dad is likely to take a swipe at first but he’s not the one they pick on now. No way. Mickey has a reputation now, on the streets, in juvie, even amongst his brothers. He’s a South-Side thug, through and through. His knuckles say ‘FUCK U-UP” and they will. It is not an idle threat and everyone knows it. Mickey Milkovich is dangerous. Gallagher is fucked and the little bitch doesn’t even realise it.

Mickey is eighteen. He’s an adult now. No more juvie, no more running away. He’s a grown man and he is in love and he doesn’t even begin to know what to do with that. He can’t stop thinking about Ian. When he isn’t near him, he wants to be and when he is near him, his skin itches with the craving of his touch. Mickey doesn’t flinch when Ian grabs him, he doesn’t panic when Ian catches him looking at him. He wants the taste of Ian on his lips, wants his smell deep inside his nostrils and his arms wrapped tight around him at night. But Mickey is afraid. It is a fear that seems to have been ground into his bones, and it chafes his soul every waking minute. One of the worst things a man can be is a fag, that is what Mickey knows and he hates himself and he hates Ian for bringing this thing out in him, for making it harder to ignore. But even as he hates him, Mickey dreams of a small house with clean windows and brightly painted furniture and he imagines serving Ian coffee for breakfast in the morning and lighting his evening cigarette off the end of Mickey’s own at night. He hits Ian. He calls him names and tells him that he fucks other people. He tells Ian not to touch him, tells him not to look at him. He runs away and hides.

He wakes in the night and his bed sheets are cold and wet with sweat and lust that Mickey can’t shed when he is awake. He can hear the TV in his Dad’s room and he tries not to be seen as he walks into the hall and dumps his laundry down the chute.

He cries when no one is home and when he gets caught with red rimmed eyes he beats the shit out of his brother and then fucks one of the three women Terry brought home. Her lips are painted bright pink and she stinks of greasy meat and all the while he is thinking of Ian and pretending he is somewhere else.

He sits out on the porch desperately hoping Ian will walk by and praying that he won’t. He smokes a packet of cigarettes and drinks a six-pack of beer. Mandy shows him a new dress and he tells her it makes he look fat. There father grunts in approval and Mandy flips them both off as she walks away.

He runs out of beer and goes to buy more. A redheaded young man looks him up and down and Mickey feels his cock grow hard. He shoves the guy and when he falls over Mickey kicks him twice, three times. A woman walks past and screams at him that he’s an animal, she tells him he should be locked up. Mickey screams back at her. He tells her that she has no fucking idea what he needs and calls her foul names. He spits after her retreating back. He collects the debts his family is owed and takes the money home. Terry doesn’t count it. Mickey counts it. It’s all there. Every fucking dollar. Mickey doesn’t know why he doesn’t rip the old man off but even when he thinks about doing it, an alarm goes off in his head and he pushes the thought away.

He goes into the bathroom and picks up a magazine. He flips to the picture of a swimmer with red hair and a slim muscular build. He looks at the bulge in the speedos and bites his lip until his eyes squeeze shut and he tosses the magazine back in the rack.

He goes out into the street and stands opposite the Gallagher house wondering if Ian is there. He has a reputation and when the kids see him, they draw the curtains but they must have told Ian because the door opens and for Mickey, time stands still. Ian smiles at him, that goofy lopsided grin that Mickey would die just to get a glimpse. Mickey is fucked and he well and truly realises it.

“Hey.”

One word. Just one tiny word. History is doomed to repeat itself unless something dramatic happens to knock it from it’s axis, upset the plans and set the future free. Mickey feels his lip quirk upwards and raises his hand in greeting.

“Hey. You wanna hang out?”

History wobbles, it shakes, it trembles and it falls from it’s axis. The future bursts forth in a rush of possibility and Mickey Milkovich steps through the void and sets his feet on the path toward freedom.

#shameless #shameless us #shameless fanfiction #shameless imagine #ian gallagher #ian x mickey #Ian loves Mickey #mickey milkovich #Milkovich #gallavich #Gallavich Love

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laceandhockeyskates · 8 years ago

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Brendan Gallagher- We all win

Request: hey can u do a Brendan gallagher imagine where you guys are best friends and u have a huge crush on him. It turns into something more after the game they win getting them into the playoffs. THANKSS!!

Author’s notes: I love this prompt so much! These are my favorite kind of imagines to read.

Warnings: slight steam?

Up next: Nolan Patrick

It had started years ago when Brendan had moved into the apartment across from you. He was always coming as you were going, but he always had a bright smile for you. From there it turned to inviting each other over for dinner so you didn’t have to eat alone, although the reality was Brendan couldn’t cook for himself if his life depended on it. When you fell for him though was still a mystery to you. You had just realized one day that this gorgeous boy that had become your best friend suddenly meant even more to you, but you couldn’t ruin your friendship.

You watched as girl after girl came and went from his life as you did your best to protect your heart and your friendship. But no matter who was in his life he always made sure that your friendship still was a priority to him, even if it missed the flavor of the week off. You were terrified for the day that one of them became more than that. Until it happened though you were determined to be Brendan’s number one fan at least.

Of course you had been in the stands when the team clinched a playoff spot. You had screamed and celebrated with the wives and girlfriends in excitement. All of the hard work that the boys had put in all season had paid off. Usually after a game you would have waited for Brendan outside the locker room to congratulate him, but you knew that he was going to want to go out with the boys. You knew that he’d come over the next day and you could celebrate with him then.

Once you were home you knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep right away so you opted to change into one of the few Habs shirts that you had stolen from Brendan over the course of the last few years and a pair of sweats before you curled up on the couch deciding to put on the highlights from the game.

You must have drifted off at some point because the sound of keys in your lock made you wake up from your curled up position on your couch. You weren’t too concerned about who it was because a loud curse sounded at the door and you’d know that voice anywhere in the world. Before he could get anymore frustrated though you opened the door for him catching him by surprise but the look quickly melted into the smile you loved so much.

“Y/N!” He exclaimed as he pulled you against his chest burying his head into your hair taking a deep breath in. “You’re so pretty. You should have come out with us so I can tell the boys how pretty you are.”

You were amused as you tried to pull back from his grip but he just pulled you back. You could smell the alcohol coming off of him but you didn’t mention it. “How about we get you to your own bed so you can sleep tonight off. We can always celebrate together tomorrow.”

“Okay!” He sighed dramatically pulling you into your own apartment. He stopped short of the front door toeing off his shoes as you raised your eyebrows watching him.

“You do realize that this is my apartment and not yours, right?” You asked curiously once he had taken off his jacket putting it on the back of the chair before he turned his attention to you.

He nodded but the look he gave you was so sad that your heart just melted before he even opened his mouth. “But this is my home, Y/N. Can I just stay here tonight?” How could you say no to that? You couldn’t. Instead you just took his hand leading him to the bedroom. You weren’t sure what he’d wear but you were sure that you could figure it out.

You moved to the dresser looking around for anything he could wear when you felt his hand bunch into the shirt you were wearing. You felt him pressing you into the dresser. “You’re so damn sexy wearing my shirt. I wonder what’s underneath it though,” you felt his hot breath against the shell of your ear as his hands shifted the shirt a little higher up on your hips.

“Braden,” you hissed in warning as you ducked out from his hold. You couldn’t do this. You knew if you let it him go any farther that you wouldn’t be able to stop him, and you couldn’t risk it just being a one time thing with him.

He sighed heavily hanging his head before nodding. He mumbled something but you didn’t quite catch it. You left him to find whatever he wanted to wear as you slid into your bed pulling the blanket to your chin as you stared at the wall. It hurt knowing how much that you wanted a future with him and you’d only ever be a one night stand.

You felt the bed beside you dip down as he laid down beside you. No matter how angry or upset the two of you were with one another though it never stopped you from cuddling. You melted into his arms before drifting off to sleep for a little bit at least.

You probably would have slept longer if it wasn’t for the fact that he kept shifting uncomfortably letting out annoyed sighs. Finally you turned around to face him as you gave in knowing you wouldn’t get back to sleep. “What’s on your mind, Braden?”

He grumbled grabbing one of the pillows and hugged it to his chest as he stared at the ceiling. “Why don’t you like me?” He asked after a moment. “I know you like me as a friend...but why don’t you like me as more?”

It was trick. It had to be. But when you looked at him all you saw was his innocent curiosity. He was to drunk to remember it in the morning anyways. You sighed internally to yourself before you leaned down pressing a quick peck to his lips before sitting back up. “I do, Braden. I always have. But now you need to sleep.”

He seemed to happily accept the answer as he pulled you back to his chest holding on to you even tighter. It didn’t take too long for him to finally fall asleep though. It was a small price to pay if it meant he actually got to sleep though. Especially if it meant you got to sleep too.

You woke up to a warm hand pressed against your bare stomach and a pair of lips marking up your skin as he latched onto your neck pulling a moan from you as you shifted against him. “Braden?” you asked doing your best to nudge yourself away from him but he wasn’t willing to let go of you.

“No.” he whispered against you causing a chill to run down your back, “I waited way too long to have you. I’m not going to let you go now. You might want to call off because I’m determined to make sure the world knows that you’re mine.” You felt his lips turn up into a smirk before he tipped your head to look back at him. “I get to go to the playoffs and get the girl all in one night. I must have done something for some good karma.”

#nhl imagines #nhl imagine #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #brendan gallagher

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