#it looks especially good when he’s kissing mickey

[lovesjill]

live, love, ghostface!

pairing: billy loomis, stu macher, mickey altieri, roman bridger, charlie walker, jill roberts, ethan landry, quinn bailey x fem!reader

summary: only nsfw and nsfw headcanons! it's just my thoughts about ghostfaces and who is who

billy loomis

dom

billy was very gentle with you at first, always asking about your comfort and safety. never hurt you, but you didn't know that he was actually just preparing you for his own cruel games.

when you had another session, you expected tenderness and kindness.. but, it was not there. your boyfriend was so rude and cruel to you. but, you liked it in the end.

billy doesn't like to use toys, he's against them.

your boyfriend always gives you so much pleasure. when he kisses your neck and bites it lightly, you feel like you're in heaven. you feel so good just feeling him next to you..

you can hardly hear anything from this guy, only rare sighs. try paying attention to his neck or giving him a good and long blowjob, you can hear very quiet moans from him that he holds back.

you don't have sex that often, mostly only at night when billy comes to you after the murders that you, of course, don't know about. billy needs to calm his ardor and then rest in the arms of his beloved girlfriend.

his favorite positions are missionary, doggy style and he will never admit it but he also likes cowgirl. it was only once and after that you never dominated

- «just look at yourself, how you always take my dick so well. you're just a real slut, my love» - said billy with a dark smile and he also pulled your hair.

stu macher

dom

he just wants to please you and protect you because you are his first love he wants you to feel comfortable with him.

with stu you can talk about any topic during classes, he will still joke a lot and, as always, be a playful guy.

stu always asks you and always keeps you informed of his various ideas about your sex life. his ideas are quite.. unique.

he will naturally allow you to dominate him, he will even ask you about it. he also needs rest and besides, he has a great view of your whole body. this shameless guy will naturally touch you and your curves, especially your thighs. in general, he also loves your domination over him!

he is ready to have sex at any time, you can literally do it twice a day or almost absolutely ALL night.

stu, like billy, does not like toys, he likes to use only his strengths and, in rare cases, a knife.

his favorite positions are missionary and cowgirl. the second one is simply his favorite, the very favorite. very very very

«hey baby let's change» - said stu in a quiet and gentle voice, and began to kiss your entire face and pay attention to your lips

mickey altieri

dom

mickey is just a huge experimenter, a sadist and a pervert

the first time you were all quite gentle, he took care of you properly and paid attention to you. it was the first and last time, he became literally very cruel and sadistic. constantly chooses those positions that are uncomfortable for you and also very perverted like this guy

doggy style lover, he just loves this position. he will beat, knead, bite and kiss your poor ass.

ready to have sex at any time, he has very good stamina and just a huge sexual desire. you often did this in the toilet of the college

mickey has definitely had many girls, but they were all just regular sluts. you are his favorite, and with you he finally found real pleasure and happiness

he is also ready to use a knife, but this time he will definitely ask you about it. If you agree, he can leave very small cuts.

mickey also uses toys on you, but very rarely. he will constantly tease you and call you a slut. he loves vibrators, and always uses the biggest ones.

«what a good girl, you take absolutely everything that I give you..» - mickey muttered, sliding his fingers deeper into your pussy.

roman bridger

switch (mostly dom)

roman, to be honest, is not such a fan of sex, you have sex with him quite rarely. because of roman's work and also his dark work as a ghostface, which you don't know about, so the director simply doesn't have time for it, unfortunately

basically it's quite gentle and fast, you have a lot of fast rounds and basically always in the same position.

you both can do this in the on the set's bathroom, but it's pretty rare.

I honestly don't know what to write about this wonderful man

charlie walker

sub

God, this guy will beg to be controlled and dominated. he just needs it, he will be your obedient kitten.

you constantly dominate him and do whatever you want with him. and he, like an obedient boy, accepts everything and simply enjoys you. do you want to tie him up? yes. do you want to mock him? of course, he will not resist your will.

charlie just loves cowgirl, he will stare at you and get more and more excited. he especially loves it when you leave marks on him, marking him as yours. he is just in heaven, being next to his favorite girl

he is ready to make a sex video with you, naturally only with your consent. charlie will not show the video to anyone, because it is especially for him

it was you who took his virginity, he was so inept and worried all the time. all his knowledge from porn was forgotten, because a wave of embarrassment overwhelmed him like your breasts

charlie just loves it when you pull his hair or give him a head massage while he eats your pussy

you can fuck him whenever you want, everything is at your discretion and he has no right to vote, he will be for any idea

«oh please..! is too much..» - charlie is already losing his mind from your mouth, he has lost count of how many times he has cum

jill roberts

dom

this girl was also a virgin, she didn't have sex with charlie or even more so with trevor. she didn't give it to any of them, but she gave it to you. but after the first time she almost immediately became more skilled and professional

she practically humiliates and breaks you, she deliberately fucks you in uncomfortable positions and you have no right to arise

jill will control you all the time and not let you cum. If you cum before the appointed time, she will torture your poor pussy and ass with vibrators. she is a fan of toys.

you have sex VERY rarely, because jill roberts's entire sex life is a huge secret. she is an innocent and kind girl who wouldn't hurt a fly, and no one should know what you both do. she is very afraid that you both might get caught, so you have sex very rarely.

she will never have sex during these days, sex is completely prohibited during these days.

jill can tie you up and rape your pussy with her graceful little fingers and bring you to multiple orgasms, she can add her mouth or any toys

oh she loves to touch you and your body by accident when you are in public, she will accidentally touch your chest for a second, or she will deliberately squeeze your ass and pretend like she did nothing

this queen loves doggy style, just like mickey. she finds this position kinky, and it satisfies her.

«take it all like dirty slut you are, you want this? you're getting it» - jill says roughly and with a smirk, pushing the vibrator deeper into your pussy.

ethan landry

switch (mostly sub)

first things first, this man is 100% a complete and total sub

moans, groans, whines, pleas and begs; he does it all, and does it very well

ethan is literally made to eat pussy, in every session he will definitely eat your pussy. sit on his face, he will be just happy. he always listens to you and your instructions. add a finger, slow down, speed up, whatever. he always listens to you

If you want to be fucked like a whore, he will do it, if you want to humiliate him, he will do it too. whatever you ask, he will agree to it.

ethan loves the cowgirl, it's his favorite position. he'll accept everything like an obedient kitten, and only with your consent will he touch you. he loves it when your breasts bounce.

by the way about breasts, he loves your breasts. he is so gentle. almost every day he touches your breasts and feels them. often after your sex, your nipple is in his mouth

he can literally cum if you praise him, and his favorite thing is to call him: "good boy"

like any guy, ethan needs a good blowjob. he loves it when you take his cock in your mouth and jerk him off with your hand at the same time, he is just in heaven from it. ethan closes his eyes and these beautiful moans are heard from his beautiful mouth

you both don't have sex that often, you have quite a few quick rounds. he needs sex after kills.

«oh my good boy makes me feel so good..» - you moan sweetly and smile while he eats your pussy and you sit on his face

quinn bailey

dom

of course quinn dominates. this beautiful woman has a huge sex drive, she is literally insatiable and wants sex all the time. she naturally had many sexual partners, as we know from the movie

you both have sex literally every day. It lasts for about 3-4 rounds, 15-20 minutes each.

quinn is more gentle with you than jill and she often praises you and reassures you. but, she can also be more rude.. she is such a big teaser!

this woman is number one in care after your sessions, she will calm you down and ask how you are. afterwards she can hug you for a few minutes, and then you take a shower with her where she carefully takes care of you.

she loves to seduce you with her short outfits and lift up her dress to tease you.

God she will rub your poor pussy and lick it all the time quinn often overstimulates you and you cum too much because of her

she, like jill, has toys that are safely hidden in her room. she always sticks the vibrator in so deep that it even hurts, but at these moments... caring quinn disappears and she becomes a real sadist.

queen of sex positive!

I think she had sex with a girl before.. but she probably didn't like it and promised herself she wouldn't do it with girls anymore. but you changed everything.

«come on baby, I know you can take more. It's only your third orgasm, slut.» - redhead has been rubbing your pussy for several minutes without stopping. you know that soon she will add fingers..

and by the way, don't ask me about a couple of freaks. I don't write anything with them.

[nickeverdeen]

Calling Top Gun Maverick characters “wife/husband” instead of “girlfriend/boyfriend” while being on the phone with someone

Pete “Maverick” Mitchell

Maverick would give you a subtle, knowing smirk, his eyes glinting with amusement

He’d raise an eyebrow slightly, intrigued by your choice of words

Once you’re off the phone, Maverick might tease you lightly, “Husband, huh? You sure you’re ready for that?”

He’d give you a gentle nudge or a squeeze of the hand, clearly pleased

You’d catch him smiling warmly, clearly touched by the unexpected title

Maverick wouldn’t say much but would give you a look that says he’s very okay with it

He might add it to your banter, occasionally calling you his “husband” or “wife” in return

Penny Benjamin

Penny would immediately flash you a cheeky grin, loving the new title

She’d give you a playful wink, clearly enjoying the unexpected upgrade

Once you’re off the phone, Penny might tease you with, “I like the sound of that”

She’d laugh softly to herself, obviously delighted by your words

Penny would reach out to touch your arm or hand, appreciating the sentiment

She’d respond with a playful flirt, something like, “Does that mean we’re planning a wedding now?”

Penny would likely pull you in for a quick kiss, happy and amused by the title

Jake “Hangman” Seresin

Hangman would immediately react with a wide, cocky grin, loving every second of it

He’d throw a quick, witty retort your way, “I knew I was husband material.”

Hangman would puff up his chest a little, clearly proud of the title

Once you’re off the phone, he’d tease you relentlessly, “So when’s the ceremony?”

He’d respond with a flirtatious comment, something like, “I’ll give you a great husband.”

Hangman would give you a charming wink, fully embracing the term

He might make a sly comment about you having good taste in husbands

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw

Rooster would get a bit flustered, not quite sure how to react at first

He’d break into a surprised but happy smile, loving the unexpected term

Rooster would chuckle nervously to himself, a little embarrassed but clearly pleased

He might blush slightly, especially if you’re in front of others, but he’d still love it

Once you’re off the phone, he might say softly, “Husband, huh? I like that.”

Rooster might gently tease you about it later, “So, how long have we been married now?”

He’d give you a long, affectionate look, clearly touched by the sentiment

Natasha “Pheonix” Trace

Phoenix would immediately laugh, clearly amused and delighted by your words

She might give you a light, playful punch on the arm, “Wife? I like the sound of that.”

Phoenix might feign surprise, “Wow, didn’t know we were that official.”

She’d grin at you teasingly, loving the playful nature of the title

Once you’re off the phone, she’d quickly retort with, “Guess that makes you my wife/husband, huh?”

Phoenix would likely continue the banter, throwing in some flirtatious remarks

She’d clearly be happy with the title, maybe bringing it up later with a smile

Robert “Bob” Floyd

Bob would be stunned into silence for a moment, not quite sure how to react

His face would turn bright red, clearly flustered but pleased by the title

Bob would give you a shy, sweet smile, loving the idea but too shy to say much

He’d let out a nervous laugh, trying to play it cool but clearly a bit overwhelmed

Once you’re off the phone, Bob might say timidly, “Husband? I, um, didn’t know we were there yet.”

He’d give you a grateful, affectionate look, touched by the unexpected upgrade

Bob might make a soft comment about how much he likes the sound of it

Mickey “Fanboy” Garcia

Fanboy would instantly get excited, his eyes lighting up at the word “husband.”

He’d immediately start playfully joking, “So when are we booking the honeymoon?”

Fanboy would break into a big grin, clearly loving the idea

Once you’re off the phone, he’d be full of energy, “Husband! I knew it! We’re that good!”

He might go over-the-top with his reaction, acting like you’ve just proposed

Fanboy would be laughing joyfully, clearly thrilled with the new title

He’d constantly tease you about it afterward, bringing it up at every opportunity

[thegreatirene]

My Best Friends Brother(Carl Gallagher x Latina!reader)



Rated: Mature(language and implied sex)

Summary: after leaving the south side you come back to visit your best friend’s lip and Ian. A lot of things changed around the Gallagher household especially the people living in it.

I watched some clips on tiktok of Carl and forgot how cute he looked in his policeman outfit. So this takes place in like the last season so Fiona is gone but she’s mentioned in it. The read is Latina cuz I am and I want more Latina reader fics out there.

“How long has it been since you left?”

“Shit, like eight? Yea I think it’s eight cause we were still in high school when my family moved.”

You inhaled on the watermelon flavored vape you had as you walked next to lip. You found him walking with a stroller. Surprised the hell out of you when you learned he had a kid and was married as well. You were happy for him and continued your walk with him on his way back to the Gallagher house. He told you about the things you’ve missed. Fiona being the biggest one. You didn’t think she would actually leave everyone behind without a word but you were really happy for her. You didn’t say it, cause you didn’t want to hurt lip’s feelings but she deserved to get out of here.

“No way Mickey and Ian are together! Would have thought they would have fucked a couple times and moved on” you laughed as you handed your vape to lip.

“We thought the same thing. Ian kind of thought that too but they’ve been strong throughout their relationship.”

“That’s cool and them other ones? Debbie and Franny still good?”

“Yea Deb’s had some shit going on with her but she’s fine now. Liam is our smart guy. Little man getting straight A’s”

“I’m not surprised. You and Ian were pretty good in school. I guess it skips a generation” you laugh as lip handed your vape back.

“Yea Carl’s a cop believe it or not”

“No fucking way?!?! Carl, Carl? The little boy who beat and tortured people just for the fun of it? The one we all thought was gonna be on the most wanted??? That Carl?” Lip nodded his head as the both of you stopped in front of the gate that was in front of the Gallagher’s house.

“I swear it,” lip held his hand up, “he should be dropping by soon if you want to see him?” You laughed as you said yes and went into the house with him.

—

“Man it still looks the same” you took your jacket off as you hung it on one of the empty hooks by the door. Walking further in you could hear voices in the kitchen and made your way in. Lip put his son in the playpen and walked towards the kitchen. Standing at the counter with his back to the doorway was Ian. Mickey looked around him and nodded towards you.

“Holy shit, here I thought you got deported” Mickey said as he took a sip of his coffee. Ian turned to see who he was talking to and broke out into a smile.

“And I don’t know how many times I have to tell your racist ass that I was born here-“ Ian grabbed you into a hug in the middle of your rant to Mickey.

“It’s so good to see you y/n” he kissed the top of your head as you squeezed him to you. You pulled back from the hug but still in his arms as you got a good look at his face.

“Still the pretty red head” you patted his cheek as you hugged him again. The both of you laughed as you felt Ian being pulled back a bit.

“Ok enough of that” Mickey said as he pushed Ian back from the shoulder and looked at you.

“Don’t get jealous Mickey. Ian is all yours he doesn’t like pussy remember?” You laughed as he mocked the laugh and pulled you into a hug. He patted your back a couple of times and then pushed you off of him and walked back to his seat.

“So it’s just you two here?”

“Yea Liam is at one of his friend’s house and Deb’s at the park with Franny.” You nodded your head.

“Lip said Carl’s a cop?”

“Yea he’s changed a lot” Ian offered you a cup but you declined it. Lip made a ‘I told you so’ face as he walked in front of you to get his own cup.

“He grew into that big ass head of his?” You questioned as you laughed at the memory of the little boy.

“Who has a big head?” Came Carl’s voice as he stood next to you. You looked up at him, “holy shit, y/n?” Carl looked you over. You got a good look at him. He’s a couple inches taller than you and definitely grew up. Carl is handsome and you definitely weren’t prepared for that. You blinked a couple of times and smiled at him.

“Hey bid head. It’s good to see you” he rolled his eyes and pulled you into a hug. You placed your face next to his. He smelled nice and god could you feel how strong his body felt under his clothes. You pulled back from the hug or at least tried but Carl was holding on to you. You could feel Carl’s hand rub your back and start to move a little lower.

“Ok that’s enough” lip said as he went and broke the two of you apart. You turned away from Carl to calm yourself while Lip smirked at his little brother and patted his shoulder. Ian held up his left arm for you to walk into him. He held you by the shoulder as lip and Carl whispered to each other.

“Man, you Gallagher’s really don’t be lacking in the looks department, huh?” You said to Ian and he looked down at you as you eyed Carl. His younger brother doing the same from over Lip’s shoulder. You huffed a breath through your nose and turned to look at Mickey and Ian.

“What?”

“Nothing just-“

“Watching you be a prev for his brother.” Mickey finished. You scoffed at his remark and folded your arms over your chest.

“Fuck you, I’m just saying that the family has good genes. Where did I say that Carl is hot?” You whispered yelled at Mickey as you got close to him.

“You didn’t have to say anything. We can see you eye fucking him” Mickey whispered back as he laughed at you. Ian pulled you back as you were about to say something but stopped it.

“Stop it”

“Ian he started it”

“And I’m stopping it” you sucked your teeth and settled back into his side. Lip and Carl finished their conversation with lip patting his back with a big smile and walked over to the three of you.

“You staying the night, y/n?” Lip asked as he went to sit at the table with his cup.

“I could, I’m on vacation so I don’t have any where to be. If you guys don’t mind me being here”

“Mick and me don’t live here so you can take the room we slept.”

“Is it clean?”

“It’s clean don’t worry” Ian laughed as he rubbed your arm and let you go. He walked over to the table with lip and sat down.

“Sleepover at the Gallagher’s. Brings back memories the only difference is I don’t have to awkwardly pretend I don’t hear Ian jerking off in his bed.” You and Mickey laughed as the both of you looked at Ian.

Carl came up to your side a little closer than you thought he would. You turned to look at him and smiled.

“You gonna be sleeping with me tonight, Carl?” You said to him as you leaned on the counter with your head on your hand.

“I can think of some other things we can do besides sleep” he said as he looked at you with darkened eyes. You looked at his blue eyes and then to his full lips. You wetted your bottom lip and looked back his eyes and smiled.

“I’m gonna go make a phone call. If I’m gonna be sleeping here I need some of my things” you said as you broke your eye contact with him and talked to the other three people in the room. You smiled at them as you took your phone out and started to make your phone call.

Carl watched you walk out of the room and then out the house as he bit his lip and stood there for a minute. Mickey raised his brows at the younger man and then looked at the other two brothers. Lip shook his head as he got up and walked into the living room to be with his son.

“Carl the more you look the harder it is to make your eyes go back into your head.” Ian said as he got up from the table and put his mug in the sink. Carl rolled his eyes as he looked at the front door one more time before he began to talk.

“Y/n is…” he couldn’t finish his sentence as he went back to look at the front again. Ian shook his head as he walked into the living room. Mickey looked at Carl and finally had enough.

“Listen if you’re trying to fuck y/n make your move tonight. Me and your brother are gonna be out for a couple hours at like 8 and lip said he has to go back to his house to finish doing whatever” Mickey finished his coffee and got up. He stood in front of Carl and leaned back to look into the living room.

“Debbie isn’t gonna say anything cause she don’t care and Liam is having his own sleepover. So y/n is gonna be in that room by herself. Make your move” he said as he put his mug in the sink.

“Thanks Mickey” Carl said as he looked at the older man with a look of admiration. Mickey patted his shoulder and walked into the living room.

—

True to what Mickey said, him and Ian left the house at 8. Lip stuck around for another hour to finish catching up with you and left when he saw you get sleepy. Debbie hadn’t shown up yet but he wasn’t worried about that at the moment.

Right now he was debating if he should do it while you were in the shower or wait until you got dressed in the room. He chose the latter and waited at the top of the steps. Once he heard the water turn off and the door open he stood up. He watched as you walked to the room at the end.

The door was left a cracked as he quickly tiptoed to the room. He listened to see if you were gonna do anything but the door swung open and you grabbed him but the front of his shirt. Closing the door with a bang and locking it, you looked at him from the door. Your towel still wrapped around your body as you looked at him with sultry eyes.

Carl gulped as he stumbled back and fell on the bed. You walked towards him in a predatory manner. Your head held high and shoulders back as you swayed your hips. You stood right in front of him and slowly unwrapped the towel. You pushed him back until he was on his forearms and settled yourself on his lap. Still holding the towel loosely to you.

“Fuck” he breathlessly said as he watched your hand drop the towel. It landed on your spread legs and he followed it. His eyes slowly followed the curves of your torso. They landed on your breast and he reached out a hand to touch them. He rubbed his thumb over your right nipple. You moaned as you bit your lip.

“You’re so beautiful y/n” he groaned as he leaned forward and sucked your left nipple into his mouth.

“Fuck Carl” you moaned as you grabbed a fist of hair and pulled him away from you. He licked his lips and looked up at you. You leaned down and captured his lips with yours. The both of you moaned into the kiss as you grind down on the growing hard on in his shorts.

“I need you papi” you moaned as he bit your neck and flipped you on to your back on the bed. Carl looked down at you as you wrapped your legs around his waist. He pulled over the undershirt and threw it behind him. He breathed hard as he watched your breast move with the breath you took. His eyes met yours again and went back for another round of kisses from you.

—

The next morning Debbie was making breakfast for her and Franny. Lip walked into the house with Freddie in his stroller. He announced himself to his sister as he placed his son in the playpen and walked into the kitchen.

“Hey Deb’s y/n still asleep?” He asked as he walked towards the bathroom but first gave Franny a kiss on the head. Debbie made a face as she looked at lip.

“Y/n? I haven’t seen her since you guys were in school. Is she back?” She placed a plate of pancakes in front of Franny as she went to make coffee.

“Yea, I bumped into her on my walk with Freddie and we offered her to sleepover. She should be sleeping in our old room.” He said as he finished washing his hands.

“Oh then I’ll wait until she comes down. It’s been a while since she’s been here” Debbie said as she had a happy look on her face. The two continued their conversation until they heard a scream from upstairs. Lip looked to Debbie and then to the staircase.

Lip was the first one to get out of his chair as he ran up the stairs. He was intercepted by Ian who was the first one at the door. Pulling it open they both rushed in.

In the middle of the room was frank on his back on the floor with Carl on top of him holding him down. You were on the bed with the covers held to your chest as you watched Carl.

“What the hell happened?” Lip shouted as he pulled carl off of frank. Carl stood back up in just his boxers as he looked at frank and began to tell his brothers and now, Debbie and Mickey, what happened.

“Y/n woke up and frank was standing over her, watching her!” He said as he went back to get frank but lip held him back.

“Hey, hey, hey it’s not my fault this Latin beauty is in my bed naked! Who can resist when someone like that is there! By the way son got yourself a good one” frank winked at Carl but Carl wasn’t appreciative of the compliment. Frank held his hands up as he got up from the floor and dusted himself off. Carl made his way to the bed and wrapped more of the blankets around you.

“Holy shit y/n and Carl fucked!?!?” Debbie said as she made her way into the room and looked at the two of you on the bed. You huffed and rubbed your face as you looked at all of them.

“It’s too early for this.”



[mynameismckenziemae]

Who Do You Belong To?

Bob Floyd x Female Reader

Summary: Teasing Bob leads to getting a reminder on who you belong to.

Warnings: 18 + ONLY! MDNI! This work contains smut, mean!dom Bob 🤤, oral (f receiving), temperature play, spanking, ruined orgasm, humiliation, bondage, blindfolds, sensation play, cum play, implied Bob x Natasha x you, etc.

Thank you @phoenix-rising-starbird-one for the prompt 😘 I hope you enjoy it!

-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—

“No wonder Bob keeps you around,” Nat teases with a wink.

“Hmm?” You turn to her, confused. Until she nods to your lips currently wrapped around the base of your popsicle. “Oh stop!”

“I’m kidding,” she laughs, “I know he loves all of your assets. Especially this one,” she squeezes your rear before running off in the sand, leaving you alone under the tent.

But only for a moment. There are familiar hands on your ass seconds after you bend over to get water from the cooler.

“Nat,” you gasp as you rise when the hands squeeze, “not in front of Bob.”

“Ha-ha,” he chuckles into your neck, “real funny. I watched you let her touch what’s mine, naughty girl. That’s why I came over.”

“Not in the mood to share today?” You ask, turning to look up at him while you bring the rapidly melting popsicle to your lips.

His eyes darken and his cock hardens fully against your ass as he watches you suck the full length of it into your mouth.

The memory of the last time you and Bob played with Natasha makes your eyes roll back. You moan at both the sweet memory and flavor, “so good.”

He spins you to lap up the sticky drops that landed on your chest before kissing a line up to your ear to growl, “I think you need to be reminded of who you belong to.”

“What are you gonna do to me, sir?” You ask innocently before slowly pumping the popsicle in and out of your mouth.

His eyes drift close at that. He takes a deep breath before opening them; now full of sark, delicious promise. “You’ll see. Now go get in the truck while I tell everyone the heat is getting to you.”

“Yes sir,” you whisper before pulling the rest of the frozen treat from the stick with your lips and swallowing.

-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—

While the air inside the house is cool, your skin feels sticky and overheated as Bob watches you strip naked. He then guides you onto the bed before lifting your hands above your head, securing them around the wrought iron bars of the bed frame with one of his ties.

He ignores your whine when you see him pull out the blindfold next before the world goes dark.

Then he makes you wait. His footsteps walk out of your bedroom and down the stairs, before heading to the kitchen. The ceiling fan does little to cool your feverish skin and soon you grow impatient. But just when you start to squirm he’s climbing the stairs.

He sets something down beside you before his clothes hit the floor. The bed dips as he straddles your thighs and you sigh when he leans down for a kiss, chasing his lips when he pulls away too soon.

“Who do you belong to?” He asks, his hand leaving your jaw to reach for something.

“Mickey? I love the way he says my nam-“ your teasing cuts off with a gasp as something cold and wet touches your lips.

His low chuckle makes you shiver, along with the ice cube he’s trailing down your jaw, over your racing pulse point to the base of your throat.

It melts quickly in your heated skin and he leans in to lick up where it’s pooled. “Try again. Who do you belong to?”

“Maybe Jake? You know he was going to ask me out before he knew we were-,” you stutter as he runs a fresh cube between the valley of your breasts then up to your nipple, circling the peaked bud over and over until it melts. The lukewarm trickles fall down your sides and you inhale sharply when he sucks the nearly numb bud into his hot mouth, biting down and tugging gently before releasing. “Nope, not Jake either. Who do you belong to?”

“Javy, I think. I hear he shares girls with Jake…fuck!” You keen as he starts the same delicious torture on the other breast. The cold-to-hot sensation has you panting and lifting your hips in a silent plea.

“I can do this all night,” he says, a little breathless too. “Who do you belong to?”

“Mav…” your voice begins to tremble as he trails another down your stomach while he shoulders his way between your thighs, “I’ve always had a thing for older-”

Though you know it’s coming, you still jolt from the shocking cold touch to your clit. He rubs the melting cube around your bundle of nerves, dips it inside your pussy, and ends by gliding over your puckered hole. Just when you think it can’t get worse, he blows cool air over the path before starting again with a new cube. The sheets beneath you are soon soaked from the melting ice and your arousal.

“Wrong,” he flicks your clit with his tongue once. “Who do you belong to?”

“Bradley?!” It comes out as a shout as he begins to devour you, his mouth feels burning hot, “He-he’s got a big co-“

He forces two chilly fingers inside you, curling them relentlessly against your g-spot. Your hands strain against the silk tie, wanting nothing more than to feel his hair between your fingers as you hurdle toward release.

You cry out when he pulls away, fingers still fucking you, “My cock’s bigger. Who do you belong to?”

He lowers his mouth to your clit, sucking the same rhythm as his fingers; his name is on the tip of your tongue as you tip over the edge…

And then he stops. He releases your pulsing clit and pulls his fingers out as you sob; orgasm effectively ruined.

“Nat,” your voice breaks, “s-s-she does that thing with her tongue.”

Your dark world suddenly spins; the air pushes from your lungs as you land on your stomach, arms now crossed above your head.

“Only when you earn it,” he taunts, sounding so composed while your tears soak the blindfold. “Who do you belong to?”

You’re happy he can’t see your pout as you shake your head, refusing to give in so easily after he ruined your orgasm.

The chill of the ice is welcome as he zig-zags over the sweat-dampened skin of your spine before continuing lower to your ass, covering both cheeks as if he’s painting.

You don’t even realize his hand leaves your nearly numb skin until it lands sharply a moment later, making you gasp.

He leaves a matching handprint on the other side before asking again, “Who do you belong to?”

You’re torn between ending this sweet torture and seeing how far he’ll go.

He’s running another ice cube down your back before you can decide, tracing his red handprints and leaving two more.

“Who do you belong to?” He repeats, voice low and gravelly; he’s affected too.

“Y…” your answer dies on your tongue as he runs the same path again down your back, this time placing it between your cheeks to melt and make you squirm.

“You!” You wail just as he lifts his hand to presumably spank you again, “I belong to you!”

“There it is,” the cocky smirk evident in his voice, “Finally learn your lesson?”

“Yes sir,” you whisper shakily, tears still leaking from your eyes. He spanks each side once more before he flips you back over, chuckling at the hiss that escapes when your tender cheeks touch the sheets. He crawls over you before sliding to your knees and slides inside you with a satisfied grunt.

“Did you really?” He asks, fucking you at an agonizingly slow pace as you nod eagerly. “About damn time.”

Your lip quirks at that; both of you know you’ll need reminding again soon.

“Whose lips are these?” He murmurs, running his fingertips across them.

“Yours,” you answer before opening your mouth to suck on his offered fingers.

“Good girl,” he praises, cupping your breasts next before pinching your still-sensitive nipples, “and your tits?”

“Yours,” you moan, clenching at the pleasure-pain.

“Mhmm,” he hums, hands continuing south, gripping your ass tightly, his hips starting to thrust faster, “how about this perfect, round, beautiful, tight ass?”

“Yours!” You keen, hurdling towards the edge.

“That’s right,” he pants. His fingers find your clit to circle as he begins to lose control. “And this pussy that’s always wet and ready for me?”

“Yours! I’m all yours,” you gasp as the pleasure overtakes you.

“Fuuuuuuuck,” Bob’s drawn-out groan makes you clench as he pulls out to cum over your stomach and tits, marking his territory.

-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—

“I love you,” Bob murmurs a few minutes later as he unties your wrist. He kisses the redness that’ll be gone by morning before removing the damp blindfold.

You smile sleepily, eyes too heavy to open and too fucked out to reply with words.

“Be right back,” he whispers. You nod once, assuming he’s getting a washcloth to clean you.

When he returns your brow furrows in confusion as there’s not one, but two tongues lapping up Bob’s spend from your body instead of the damp cotton you’d expected.

“Hey beautiful,” Nat’s voice makes smile as you slowly open your eyes, “I heard you like that thing I do with my tongue.”

-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—

A/N: not sure how Phoenix snuck in there but 🤷🏻‍♀️

Tagging my Bob girlies (gn):

@lexixstewart

@dizzybee03

@its-the-pilot

@hisredheadedgoddess28

@atarmychick007

@littlezee80

@k-k0129

@phoenix-rising-starbird-one

@jessicab1991

@lonelysoul50

@landpiranha-blog

@fandomology101

@writtingrose

@rascallyrascalreads

[dearsnow]

MANIC MOVES & DROWSY DREAMS (3)

- after discovering something that forces all of your relationship’s problems to the surface, you seek solace in your only potential friend in san diego. (bradley “rooster” bradshaw x fem!reader, hurt with future comfort, part of the series “out of touch” ⚠️ ADULT TOPICS, please be 18+ to read)

OUT OF TOUCH: It’s been twenty years since you last saw Bradley Bradshaw, and, suddenly, you realize he’s finally grown up.

word count: 3,110

a/n - this chapter is lowkey crazy 😭 i hope y’all enjoy because i’ve had a blast writing this. the next chapter might take a bit to write up because i need to plan out the rest of the series, but it hopefully shouldn’t take tooo long!!

The next few days were relatively uneventful as you attempted to get your life in perfect working order. There were a few visits from the navy men, with Fanboy (who you learned was actually named Mickey) being one of your best customers until he witnessed firsthand your boyfriend giving you flowers and a peck on the cheek. He seemed a bit crestfallen after that, but you knew he would perk up eventually. He hadn’t gone through it for nothing, though- you always slipped him an extra cookie sample when he came by.

The best part of your life was not interviewing potential employees or ordering more vintage tables, but instead, it was Derick. He was truly your rock in the midst of a change that otherwise would’ve thrown you into chaos.

He handled your calls, he mopped the floors and shined the counter, and he took you on amazing dates. You can firmly say that you’ve never had a boyfriend as respectful and supportive as him.

Too respectful, however, is an ever-present problem.

You’ve been with him for almost fifteen years and you can reasonably count the times he’s been anything other than a perfect family-friendly gentleman. If you look back on it, it was probably around fifty-two instances.

That seems like a lot, but spread out over fifteen years of young adult antics, it’s almost like he didn’t want to be intimate. He didn’t want to make out, or put a hand just a bit too low on your waist, or do anything passionate or fiery or heated. He just wanted dinner dates, a kiss on the cheek, and a hand to hold. You were fine with that, because in essence, that’s what you needed at the time, right? Stability. Comfort. Romance. Someone to wipe away your insecurities and hold you down at ground level.

A lingering thought, always bouncing around in the back of your mind, whispers that it shouldn’t take hours of tempting and teasing for a guy to want you.

You ignore all of that for right now. Derick is currently sitting across the table from you at the fanciest restaurant in the area.

Fancy places always make you a little nervous. You’re afraid to say the wrong thing or mispronounce a word on the menu, and your dresses get rumpled as you fidget with them. Even your nail polish doesn’t survive as you pick at the edges with your thumb. Derick smiles.

“What are you thinking about ordering?” He asks, setting his own menu down. You cease your picking and clear your throat. He looks especially nice tonight, with his dark hair gelled back and his black suit nice and crisp. It doesn’t quite fit with your dress, though you suppose it doesn’t need to.

“Uh, the caprese salad sounds good.” It’s the cheapest thing on the menu. He always pays, but you know that he gets a bit bothered when the bill racks up too high. You’ve offered to pay for yourself numerous times, but he waves the suggestion away, even when his face makes it known that he doesn’t want to.

“I make more money than you, babe, just let me take care of it.”

You try to smile sweetly, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. If he can tell, he doesn’t show it.

“Sounds good. I’m having the truffle alfredo myself.” He flags down a waiter, and you shrink a bit in your seat.

You can tell that this night is going to be another awkward one. After being with someone for so long, you come to expect certain things. Despite that, you wouldn’t trade this stability for anything. He makes good money, he buys you gifts, and once or twice a year, he’ll even sleep with you. What more could a girl want?

Bradley hasn’t had stability in a long time. He has a home in San Diego, sure, but going out for drinks every once and a while with people who have vastly different schedules isn’t really enough to make him want to stay. In truth, he almost misses being deployed because, at least then, he has a purpose.

When he saw you, he thought he might have an opportunity to right a wrong that has been tearing him up inside. He despises what he was like as a teenager, taking nothing seriously except his dreams to be a naval aviator. He’s learned throughout his life that everything matters, especially the feelings of other people, and even the small, mundane things he couldn’t care less about. The small, mundane things are what keep the world working.

He’s sitting on his couch, enjoying a small, mundane thing (a shitty reality show with acting so bad it makes him laugh) when an unknown number lights up his phone. He perks up, staring at the number as the reality show carries on. It’s probably just a spam number, but on the off chance it’s you, he picks up.

“Hello?” He hates how shaky his voice sounds. Just the idea of you sets his nerves on fire.

“I need a friend,” your soft voice mumbles. “Where can we meet? A place that serves strong alcohol would be preferable.”

Right after your early dinner date with Derick, you walked into your shared apartment, boxes lining every walkway. You really ought to have put everything away more quickly, but after a long day’s work, all you and your boyfriend could seem to do was pull out a few objects and give them a place in your new living quarters.

He immediately went to take a shower, as he usually did after a long day, and placed his locked phone on your nightstand. You collapsed onto your bed and looked up at the ceiling, still dressed, and began to dread opening shop in the morning. You love the cafe, but your lack of employees hits harder every day.

Derick had been handling most of the hiring process, with the good majority of the interviewees being his connections. It was helpful having a business major boyfriend, as his college networking and current accountant networking proved extremely useful for managing an actual business. He was always so enthusiastic about helping you run the place. You seriously don’t know what you would do without him.

His phone lit up next to you with a series of texts. You lazily let your gaze drift over to see what was going on. He wouldn’t mind if you checked who was texting, right? When you picked up his phone, the name that popped up was “employee candidate 4”. You smiled to yourself; Derick was so responsible, you thought. He must have given the candidates his number to see if they needed anything.

You unlocked his phone with your thumbprint, which you so sneakily added to his password bank a few months ago when you first started collaborating on the cafe’s business plan. What you saw made your heart drop down to the floor, splintering into a million little pieces that got stuck in your fresh linoleum.

Bradley hands you another drink, a strong one at that, and you gulp half of it down in one breath. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”

You look up at him through your eyelashes, makeup half-rubbed off from tears and friction. The sun began to set when you first entered, and in the dimming light, Bradley could tell that you were rattled. You still are, evidently. He waits for a moment before you clear your throat and offer a few gut-punching words.

“I checked my boyfriend’s phone.” He can tell where this is going. He doesn’t want it to be true, because who in their right mind would cheat on you?

“What was on it?” He prompts gently. You take another breath. You don’t want to dump this all on someone that you barely know, with the only history you have being a failed almost-relationship when you were teenagers, but you don’t have anyone else. When you moved to San Diego, you left everything behind, including your friends and family. You haven’t even talked to your friends in ages, as you’ve been so busy with the cafe and Derick that you couldn’t so much as call them. The idea of having Bradley nurse your broken heart is both gut-wrenching and just a little bit like a dream.

“A lot. I… I don’t want to ruin your night by bothering you. I should go.” You try to stand up from your bar stool, but he catches your wrist in his warm hands.

He shakes his head, eyebrows creased. “Just tell me. I’m here for you; I meant what I said in the cafe.” You nod, fresh tears welling up in your eyes as you sit down.

“I’ll get a few drinks in me first.”

You keep your word, managing to take down a sizable amount of alcohol within a few minutes. It’s not enough to get you passing out or throwing up, but enough to loosen your lips.

“Do you want to know what I saw?” Your face is warm, either from the alcohol or Bradley’s hand on your back. “Twenty-eight photos of his dick. It isn’t even good enough to warrant one photo, Bradley, one! None of them were sent to me, of course. Just the girls he would chat up online and fuck.” The words tumble out of your mouth, every pent-up frustration making its way into the light of the bar. “I looked through his search history, too, and then our finances, because I was suspicious of everything at that point. I found four subscriptions to porn sites in our bills and three more for online dating premium memberships. Who the fuck even needs a premium membership? God. I hate him.”

“Slow down, princess.” He says. His lips are quirked into a small smile as you ramble on and on about every small thing Derick has ever done to piss you off. “He seems like a real piece of work.”

“He is! He so is. I never get to order what I want, he always makes me feel responsible for his mistakes, and not once has he made me finish. I mean, we’ve had sex maybe twice in the last two years because he can’t get it up. Probably because he’s been sticking his dick in STD central.” Those last few items slip through your internal filter, but even in your state, you recognize that you probably shouldn’t be talking about your sex life with a guy you re-met a few days ago. “Sorry. That was personal.”

Bradley lifts his shoulders in a shrug. “Nothin’ I can’t handle. I can’t believe you stayed with him that long when he can’t do a single thing for you. If you were my girl, you wouldn’t know a day without pleasure.” It’s his turn to be embarrassed about what he said, but as his cheeks turn red, you don’t even seem to notice.

If you were his girl, he thinks, he’d treat you so well. He’d actually get you your favorite flowers instead of the ones he thinks would look nice in the aesthetic of your apartment, and he’d cook for you, and he’d never make you feel bad for loving him.

“Exactly.” You say. “He just wanted someone to come home to without even thinking about how I would feel. I wanted stability, and he gave me that, but nothing else.” You suddenly sound sober, but the tears are back, and they’re stronger than ever. “I loved him.” You choke out. “I don’t think I could ever get something better, not after so long.”

Bradley feels bad for even considering picking you up after this. You’re distraught, more than he’s ever seen anyone before. It’s clear that this is something you’re going to take a while to heal from. “You can and you will. He’s a dick, and I’m sorry you wasted so much time on him, but you will find some kind of relationship that deserves you. You can have a fresh start, and he’ll just be another asshole that you put in your past.”

You nod, taking in his words as you sip your soda. Bradley cut you off a while ago, which you’re eternally grateful for. If you had one more sip of alcohol, you think you'd either be dancing on a table or crying on the floor. Now, at least you’re crying upright in a stool, with the man across from you handing you tissues once in a while. The lady running the bar seems to know him, and she also seems to know that an endless supply of tissues is necessary for you tonight.

The doors of the bar open, and though you don’t want to peel yourself away from the sight of someone caring about you, you turn around anyway. When you do, your blood runs cold.

Bradley sees you stiffen and follows your line of sight to the person that just walked in. He’s handsome, in a way, with short, dark brown hair and a five-o-clock shadow. He seems like the stuck-up type. Your eyes are blown wide at the sight as the man walks over, a sort of fake concern lacing his expression.

“Baby-“

“Don’t fucking call me that, Derick. How did you even find me?” Oh. The soon-to-be ex. Bradley sits up on his stool, pulling himself to a position where he can easily stand if the moment calls for it.

Derick pulls out his phone sheepishly. “You left your location on.”

Goddamnit. Fuck.

“Get out. I don’t want to see you right now.” You’re seething, the anger coming off you in waves. You think that if you weren’t angry, you’d be sad, and you can’t handle that right now. The devastation of finding out your boyfriend is a freak and a cheater is something you just opened the box to, and you don’t feel like unpacking it in front of him.

“I’m sorry, okay?” He protests. “They didn’t mean anything to me. I love you, and I want to marry you, and I’ll never do it again. I- I have the ring right here, see?” He pulls out a familiar velvet-lined box, and you scoff.

“You should’ve thought about that before you cheated. Multiple times.”

Bradley stands up, placing a soothing hand between your shoulder blades. “Leave, man. She’s made it pretty clear that she doesn’t want you here.”

Derick bristles, his pasty face tinged red with anger. Bradley almost rolls his eyes at how small he looks. “You don’t need to stick up for her.” He takes a step forward. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were fucking her behind my back. That’s what this is, isn’t it? An excuse for you to leave me because some navy fucker had some nice enough sex with you?” He’s approaching fast. By the time he finishes his sentence, Derick’s fist is wrapped around your wrist tightly.

You let out a soft sound as his bruising fingers close around you, but as soon as he’s there, Bradley shoves him away and loosens his grip on you. “Okay, that’s enough. You’re either going to walk through those doors or you’re getting dragged out. I don’t care which.”

Derick scoffs. “Fine with me. I never liked you anyways.” He gives you a pointed glance, tucking the ring box into his jacket pocket.

“You have tonight to get your stuff out of the apartment that I paid for.” You say, rubbing the space between your eyebrows with your thumb. ���I never want to see you again.” The second part comes out as a mumble, but he clearly gets the message.

“Fuck you.” He walks out, and the group of navy men by the door give him a dirty look. He’s more than ruined multiple peoples’ nights by this point. It went from one crying girl at a bar to the start of a bar fight in the two minutes he stood in front of you.

Bradley, concerned, gives you a soft look. “Do you have anywhere to stay tonight?”

You shake your head as more tears drip down your jaw. You hate this. You hate Derick, you hate yourself, and you hate the pitiful way Bradley is staring at you. Your California dream has turned into a nightmare. “No, but I’ll get a hotel somewhere. It’s not that big of a deal.” Your attempt to downplay the situation has Bradley on the verge of running after Derick and slapping the back of his big groomed head. You’re too nice for this, too sweet to be cheated on and forced to sleep in a cold bed that you paid $200 for.

“You can stay over at my place if you want. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“I don’t want to put you out like that. It’s fine,” you assure him, though your voice is the least sure it’s ever been. “There’s a nice enough place a few streets away.”

Bradley shakes his head. His warm hand is on your shoulder, like he’s trying to ground you. “It won’t put me out. C’mon, princess, it’s not a big deal. You can rest up and we’ll figure out what else to do in the morning.”

He called you “princess” again. It’s nice, you think, in your drunken mind. Right now, you’re too tired to fight anything about the situation you’re in. “Alright. As long as you’re sure.”

He pays your tabs, slipping a look to the lady running the bar. She nods at him and mouths something that you can’t quite make out. As he leads you to his car, a nice, blue, vintage bronco, he keeps one hand on the small of your back. The heat feels nice, like you have someone securing you. Like you won’t ever stumble or fall before his strong arms catch you. He must be a real nice guy if he’s doing all this after so long.

He buckles you into your seat, and you let your head fall back onto the headrest. Your eyes close, and you desperately try not to think about what your life has come to. You feel a buzz in your jacket pocket, but you don’t pick it up. Everything is fine, you assure yourself. You didn’t just break up with the man you were going to marry, and he didn’t cheat on you, and your phone isn’t going off wildly through the fabric of your coat, and you’re not strapped into the car of your high school self’s dream boy. You ride that feeling, that denial, right into sleep.

You’ll deal with the real life problems in the morning.

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Taglist: @m1dnightsnackz @itsarabellebabes @shanimallina87 @sadgirlgiselle @callsignstingray

[f1version]

SANTA DOESN’T KNOW YOU LIKE I DO ‧͙*̩̩͙❅ MSC47

pairing: Mick Schumacher x reader ( she/her )

summary: Mick and you have been best friends for years, been through the good and bad, but feelings change and thoughts spiral. Will this holiday time make both of you realize that you could be the one?

warnings/info: fluff, best friends to lovers, miscommunication (they’re avoiding each other), kissing, a bit of anxiety, a try-to hallmark movie my way through fics. 

word count: 2.1k words

note: inspired on sabrina carpenter’s song! hope you like it, have a good day and happy holidays! 

snowglobe, a holiday special

DECEMBER 20, 2023

It’s cold outside; snow is falling everywhere but not with enough force to block the streets or close the stores. Usually, when the weather looks like this, you would call Mick and bake those cookies he loves. He would put on his ‘Emotional Support’ apron and pretend to help. You would tease him about how he never does anything, just there to eat, and he would laugh, eyes lighten up, and say something along the lines of—I just passed you the flour! or whatever ingredient he helped you grab from the shelf ten minutes back.

Sometimes you wonder how you ended up in this place, so desperately in love with your best friend, with butterflies in your stomach when he hugs you, a silly smile on your face when he tells some awful joke, and an enormous fear of telling him, sort of. It doesn’t matter; that won't stop you from baking cookies on such a pretty snowy day.

You: Wanna come over? I’m making cookies

Mick: Very busy right now

Mick: Just do them without me

You: that's alright

Here’s the thing: Mick’s been acting as cold as snow since the last time you saw each other a week ago. Nothing out of the ordinary happened, not that you are aware of; you were watching Hallmark movies together, and he decided to leave abruptly before the movie ended. Maybe it’s just an emergency, he said, but he’s been running away from you for days, your friends confused over the whole thing. 

You wonder if he’s noticed. Lately, your friends have spent a lot of time telling you how obvious it looks—shiny eyes paired with a never-ending smile. They have also suggested it’s mutual, which you hope because all you've wanted to do before your family's Christmas party is to confess, but who knows, maybe you’ve all been watching too many movies.

DECEMBER 22, 2023

“Are you sure you didn’t do anything to make him mad?” Alicia, your best friend, asks. She came in to leave some decorations for the party on Sunday, but one life update lent to another and of course, the Mick situation came up.

“It doesn't even seem like he’s mad at me,” You say because it’s true, you’ve known Mick long enough to know how he acts when mad,  “he’s just ignoring me.”

She sighs. “Then why don’t you ask him what’s wrong?” 

You’ve asked yourself that a couple of times, but the answer is still not clear, usually is as easy as walking down the street to his house but this time the thought overwhelms you. “Because I'm scared?” You answer, out of breath. “I don't know. I’m focusing on the party, especially because Mom doesn’t come back until tomorrow evening.”

“Honestly, my suggestion is for you to ask him before the party.” 

You sigh, knowing she’s right. The Christmas party is a tradition your families started eleven years ago, after Alicia, Gina, Esteban, Mick, and you decided to become inseparable at one of Mick’s birthday parties. This year it will be hosted at your family home, and with your mom away in Germany for a work conference, you’ve had your friends come around and help. They’ve all shown up but Mick. What the hell is his problem?

“I know Ali but,” Your phone starts ringing, Mickey is displayed on your screen with a picture of Mick carrying Angie. Alicia rolls her eyes and encourages you to take it with her head. “Hello?” 

“Hi. I'm panicking a bit,” he says, the background noise lets you know he's in his car. 

“Why?” You ask, forgetting you were having a crisis on this. “Is everything okay?”

He sighs. “It’s embarrassing, but I have no idea what to get your mom,” he says, and you laugh. Last year, you were having this exact crisis about Corinna.

You hum, thinking, “She wanted new pedals for her bike. Loved some she saw in Bike World; you’ll have to drive a bit, but I’ll send you the pic.” You put your phone away, change the call to speaker, and open messages, sending the picture your mom sent you a month ago. “There you go.”

“You are a lifesaver.”

You smile, letting out a laugh. “I know, idiot.”

“Bye, love you,” he says. Your calls always end like this; it’s a habit, so you mutter Love you back and hang up.

Alicia is staring at you, a grin on her red lips. “I hate both of you,” and she laughs, grabbing her keys and purse, about to leave. You’re somehow dumbfounded. 

“What?”

“Bye, love you. Love you,” she mimics, and you feel heat rise up your cheeks. “You guys really need to talk; I’m done dealing with him too.”

“What? Ali, it’s a ha-”

“I’m coming back at six”

“Alicia!”

“Just ask him!” She closes de door before you can even ask her to come back.

DECEMBER 24, 2023

Needless to say, you didn’t talk with Mick on the 23rd. Too busy dealing with the party and, as Esteban said, too busy avoiding the topic. 

Now it’s 7 p.m., warm lights tint the house while friends and family sway along the music in the background. Mick has been around since ten in the morning, bringing presents, a couple of ingredients that your mom was missing, and decorations, which he then helped put together. Now he’s just in full black attire, wine in hand, singing along to the song playing. Once again, you're too busy in your world to notice him approaching you.

“You always know which songs to play,” he says. Because he knows it’s your playlist reproducing. You know that’s one of his favorite songs.

“I try my best. But I also know it’s one of your favorites,” you answer, and he hums. There’s a void between you, one that hasn't been there before. It's not the tension when you fight or the longing when you're upset; it's not the excitement of seeing each other after months of traveling or the mischief when you prank your friends. It’s different—something that has been building itself for months—and you are too oblivious to understand what it is.

“You look beautiful,” Mick says, not looking at you but at his drink. He’s looked at you enough tonight, he thinks. You look up, suddenly feeling an outrageous urge to kiss him. Try and see if that’s the answer to all your questions.

He’s faster though, clears his throat, and says, “I’m going for more cookies.”

And he leaves. Your eyes stay on his back as he takes one cookie from the snack table. See him hum to the taste. You smile, bittersweet, What is going on, Mick? You want to shout at him, tell him in a million different ways how confusing all of this is, but that’s a talk for tomorrow; you’ve decided, you can't escape it any longer then.

"Shatz,” Someone calls and then says your name.

“Hm, yes, mom?” You ask, and it’s time to eat.

[ 10 minutes later ]

You are in the middle of dinner, or gossiping time, as Gina calls it, when Aunt Adelaide starts asking each one of you—the single, young members of the family and friends—about relationships. It’s not your favorite part, but a lot of fun commentary comes out of it.

Hearing your name, you know it's your turn. “Do you have anyone special yet? Maybe a secret boyfriend you don't want to tell us about?"

You laugh, “No, no. But I hope someone comes along this year.” First, you have to get over Mick, you think, and laugh a bit more.

“I have a neighbor I could introduce you to, dear. He’s a lovely young man.” She always has someone to present you to; it’s surprising. You try to go on dates with them, but they never end up working.

“I’ll think about it.” You say this as the loud sound of silver hitting the floor calls everyone’s attention.

Mick abruptly stands up. “I’m sorry,” he says as he picks up his fallen fork. He looks uncomfortable, like he’s had enough of the food, the music, or the topic. “Excuse me, I’m going for another one.”

The table has fallen silent. Aunt Adelaide is looking at you in amusement, a playful grin on her face. Someone nudges your shoulder, and you know it’s Alicia. Her eyes stand on a strange middle ground between confused and knowing, tilting her head in encouragement, like she always does. You also stand up, not so abruptly, but now everyone looks at you expectantly. “I’m going. Excuse me.”

You follow Mick to the kitchen; thankfully, it's far enough from the dining room that no one will bother.

“Mick?” You call once you’re there. His head is on his hands, and he is murmuring inaudible words to himself. "Mick, what is going on?"

He looks up, his hair messy. He’s overthinking, and you don't know what to do. You feel lost looking at him, far away from his thoughts and feelings. “What do you mean? Everything is alright.”

“You don’t look alright,” you say, shaking your head. “You’ve been acting strange.”

“No, I haven't. We’re alright,” he lies once again, picking on his thumbs.

You sigh, knowing this is when you talk about it—no script, no thinking, just questions and hope for answers. Whatever is budging him has his anxiety running in full force. “No, you’re not, and we're not; I have no idea what just happened, and you're acting as if you barely know me."

He takes a deep breath, runs his fingers through his hair, and looks at you with his deep blue eyes. You see questions being asked but don’t understand how to answer them. “It’s nothing; I'm just. It’s hard to explain; you won't understand.”

“I will try to understand then, like I always do.” You promise, taking two steps forward, close enough to reach out and hold him, "Just please talk to me."

“I don’t want to mess things up between us,” he says, sounding afraid. It reminds you of the time sixteen-year-old Mick broke your favorite perfume by accident. He didn’t want to tell you, too afraid you would stop talking to him. You really hope he didn’t break anything, material or not.

“You won't. I will be here for you.”

“I just want,” he stops himself once again. His eyes never leave yours, so you open yours a bit, waiting, listening to whatever he has to say, and it seems to work because he just says, “You."

“What?” You blank, not knowing what to say or do, not knowing if you understood correctly or if it’s the movie's effect once again. You see the exact moment in which he panics.

“No, fuck. I’m sorry, I.” He looks everywhere but your eyes, searching for an exit. Your first instinct is to grab his hand, keeping him where he is.

“I could,” you say slowly, looking at your now-intertwined hands. “I could be misunderstanding all of this, but, Mick,” you say, looking at him. He’s looking back, hope in his gorgeous sky blue eyes. “I like you, but no, not even. Mick, I’m so in love with you it hurts. I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while, but then you disappeared. You didn’t want to see me; you were acting different, and I got so worried, but I think...”

“That we are both idiots,” he says, a small smirk growing on his lips.

“Yes, yes, we are.”

He smiles and brings his free hand to your cheek, says your name like it’s meant for him to say forever. “I’m in love with you too, so much. I got so scared when I realized that I didn't just like you, that I couldn’t hide it anymore. And then our friends started saying how obvious I was being.”

“Same here,” you say, laughing. He moves his hand, pulling you in for a warm hug. It feels different than any other you’ve shared; the last two pieces of a puzzle you’ve been building together, finally finding their place. It’s a breath of fresh air. Mick’s hands are all around you, softly caressing your back, his head buried in your neck, leaving a small peck before distancing himself enough so he can see your face. You want to ask if it's appropriate to kiss him now.

But he's the first to talk. “Quick question."

“Shoot."

“Do I need a mistletoe to kiss you?” He asks, and you laugh loudly. Shake your head in embarrassment. Oh, how you love this man.

“As much as I enjoy the tradition, all you, Mick Schumacher, have to do is ask,” and now it's his turn to laugh, brings you closer while doing so.

“Can I please kiss you?"

You pretend to think about it and decide to tease him a little bit: “Is that what you asked for Christmas?"

“It’s the exact thing I asked Santa Claus for."

“Then merry Christmas, Mick.”

taglist — @smartstupyd @ziarah . . . add yourself here

[luwritesomething]

Billy Loomis x reader

Reader is having a horrible day and.billy comforts her

Billy Loomis x Reader: bad day (good life)

Warnings: Swearing (probably), bad day, billy climbing through your window

Tags: fluff, lowkey domestic, established relationship, a single kiss, bad day but good outcome, pre murders, ooc for billy (i don’t think so but he’s definitely not in his psychotic breakdown here)

Reader pronouns: Non stated (reader is referred to as ‘doll’ once).

Word count: 1109

Summary: Reader had a bad day, but good thing Billy boy is there to save the day.

Author’s note: i love him your honor :’) jesus christ it literally makes NO SENSE how much i love this man. please, keep the billy requests coming, i love writing for him!!!! pre murders, during murders, post murders, fluff, angst, you name it!!! i’ll write anything for him at this point <3 thank you for requesting @manyfandomsfanvergent, i loved writing this one and i really appreciate people sending requests :)

criticism, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! requests are open, especially for scream! hit that anon button and tell me your ideas. in the scream fandom, i write for billy loomis, stu macher, mickey altieri, chad meeks-martin, mindy meeks-martin, tara carpenter, anika kayoko, laura crane

The only light in the room was the one that came from the little lamp by your nightstand, barely enough to make certain corners of the bedroom visible enough. A soft but chill end-of-summer breath sneaked through the slightly open window, chilling the room down and forcing you to cover even better with your bed’s covers, since you had no energy to get up and close it. 

The comforting covers’ weight wasn’t enough that day to make you feel anything different than the despair that had attacked your day since the moment you had woken up, and all you wanted was to fall asleep and face a new, better morning. But of course, nothing could go correctly, and your mind wouldn’t stop spinning and spiraling, keeping you wide awake instead of letting you drift into a sweet dream. Just great.

Billy hadn’t really noticed you were having a bad day, you had played it cool enough during your time together at school for his careful eye not to catch anything out of character, so his visit wasn’t really justified apart from wanting to get out of his house and possibly spend more time with you. When he saw that your window was open, he didn’t even try to warn you of his arrival, instead choosing to climb like he was already used to — he had probably used the door to your house once, that time he had come to check how you were feeling during that day you had skipped class because of being sick. 

His eyes scanned the room from outside before he finally lifted himself with the help of his arms and slid into your bedroom, not used to so much darkness. Billy was surprised to not see you sitting on your desk, doing the English essay you had due tomorrow — he knew you hadn’t started because you had mentioned during lunch while you talked with Sidney. His eyebrows raised slightly when he saw you coddled on bed, covers and sheets almost completely covering your head. 

“Everything alright, doll?”

His presence and voice triggered you so badly — given that, during your laments, you hadn’t heard him, especially considering how stealthy he always tried to be —, that you sat up, letting the covers fall around you as your heart beated desperately against your chest. You relaxed when you saw it was just Billy, but your heart continued to furiously attempt to break out from its place.

“Jesus, Billy, don’t ever scare me like that.” You muttered rather quickly, and then you let yourself go back to your previous position in bed. Billy smiled to himself as he made his way to your bed, slowly. You felt the mattress dip down when he sat by the end of it, and you sighed. “It’s just… a bad day.”

Billy looked at you from the corner of his eyes. “Hm?”

You gave in, letting your voice come out all muffled as you pressed your face against the pillow. “Terrible, actually.”

“Oh, no.” He chuckled, and you knew he wasn’t laughing at you when his weight shifted and he crawled to your side, mindful of not letting his boots touch your clean covers. When you moved your face away from the pillow, you saw his face just some inches away from yours, boring his eyes into yours. “What are we gonna do about that?”

A soft smile blossomed in your lips while his hand came up to cup your cheek, thumb lovingly brushing against your skin. “Come cuddle?” You whispered hopefully.

Billy just hummed, and the two seconds you had to wait for him to get rid of his boots was excruciating. Once he was barefoot, he slid next to you under the covers, his arms coming to surround you and press you closely against him — you wished more people knew this version of him. He looked gloomy and even scary from the outside, but his sweetness was betrayed by his eyes and his actions, not only with you, but with those he loved.

“There.” He said softly when your head came to rest in his chest. His heartbeat was slow, grounding, comforting, but most of all, familiar. “I missed you.”

You dismissed the fact you had seen each other throughout most of the whole day, and instead tried your best to lift your gaze to him. “Did you really?”

“Mhm.” Billy hummed softly, his fingers rubbing circles against your arm. “Thought about you the whole day. Do you wanna talk about it?”

“About what?” 

“Your day?”

“Oh.” Your head instantly started to shake, a silent no that was quickly followed by, “Not really.”

You only knew he had acknowledged that because of the way he hummed, the vibrations reverberating against your head pressed to his chest. It was a warm feeling, fuzzy, that made you smile softly. You inhaled his scent slowly, letting his perfume surround you in that comfort your covers hadn’t been able to give you.

“You’re comfortable.” You muttered after some seconds, hiding your smile.

Billy couldn’t help but snort. “You’re not using me as a pillow.”

“I already am.”

“But you’re easy to shove.”

Laughter spilled from your mouth, and your arms came to surround his waist, under all the sheets covering you. “No!”

With a soft smile you didn’t see, Billy heard your laughter continue and eventually die, leaving just the trace of a genuine smile in your pretty face. His breath could have caught in his throat if this had been the first time he had ever seen you like this, but instead, he recognized the sight and the familiarity it brought him almost overwhelmed him.

“You laughed.” He said, after some minutes.

You frowned slightly. “Uh?”

“I made you laugh.” Billy pointed out, and you could hear the boyish grin in his lips. “Even when you were sulking so badly.”

“Get over it.” You said with a roll of your eyes, but not moving an inch from him. “It was a bad day, not a bad life.”

Billy just shook his head, his smile growing with every passing second, and holding you impossibly closer to him. You could get used to this, you thought, as you closed your eyes to focus on the heartbeat beating happily because of you. You’ve gotten used to this, you realized when Billy’s hand lifted your head with just tapping your chin, getting you to look at him with stars in your eyes that he certainly reciprocated. 

“Kiss me?” You muttered, like asking for a promise.

He smiled, watching you for a few seconds before he finally leaned in, pressing a kiss to your lips. It was a promise.

[eternalsams]

I gotta a request for you

TW: mentions of being sick (like a cold)

Ya girl is ill and in desperate need of fluff with Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Robert "Bob" Floyd (if your writing him rn), Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw and Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia like how they would be when your sick

Feel free to ignore this is you want

This is so cute! I have yet to write for Bob, it's on my 2024 plans don't worry. I'm ma just write some headcanons and not full stuffs cause I don't really have the time but I really wanted to do this now (it's getting late where I live)

TW: mentions of throwing up

Jake "Hangman" Seresin

first, he's clueless, he doesn't really know what to do. Is he supposed to cook for you? to help you blowing your nose?

if you get really sick to the point you empty your stomach at everything you eat, he tries to be as supportive as he can. holding your hair if it gets in your face? he can do that. rubbing your back when you feel like dying with your head on the toilet seat? he even kisses the back of your head and whispers sweet things to you

he desperately tries to cook you things you can keep; rice, chicken, whatever you need, he makes just so you feel better (spoiler alert, he's not really a great cook)

he even asks you if he needs to take a day or two off so he can take care of you but you promise him he doesn't need to (he respects your decision, he wouldn't have liked you missing work for him either)

he's a southern boy, he practically never gets sick so he takes that as an advantage to cuddle with you in bed and cover your face with sweet kisses

unfortunately, he does get sick and it's your turn to baby him all week

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

he knows what to do. he's been raised by the one and only Carole Bradshaw so he knows exactly what kind of food you need to get better asap

he surprises you with his cooking skills. he usually rarely cooks because he's not great either in front of a stove. but when you're not feeling good? that man turns into Gordon Ramsay for you

he even kept his mom's recipes from when he was not older than 15 when she used to cook him nice meals when he was sick

he's a cuddler, he doesn't care if he gets sick, he just wanna keep you safe and warm in his arms.

if you're feeling really bad, he even calls in sick with Mav to take care of you until you get better

Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia

that poor man goes full panic mode, he asks you if you're cold, if you're feeling nauseous, the whole interrogation

then he calls his mom, and you swear you hear him beg his mother for her secret recipes

I'm convinced this man is the definition of golden retriever energy, he just cannot stop running around. one moment he's wrapping you in his favorite star wars blanky, and the next one, he passing the front door, on his way to get some herbal tea

when you're all cosy on your couch, with Luke and Leia Skywalker wrapped around your shoulders, and the hot cup of tea in your hands, Mickey finally allows himself to calm down

even more when you ask him to pick a movie to watch together

Robert "Bob" Floyd

he's actually the one who notices you getting sick. when you start blowing your nose more often or clearing your throat with a grimace on your face

he looks up on the internet for some natural tips to dissipate a cold and it usually works without you noticing anything

but if you get really sick, he's a bit lost. just like Mickey, he'd call his parents for advice and his mom would help him cook you some food you can keep.

he doesn't care if you wake him up in the middle of the night when you flush the toilet or when you stumble on the bathroom floor to empty your stomach, as long as he's by your side through it, he's really doesn't care

maybe hell get sick with all the kisses he steals from you but he just can't get enough of the red flush of your cheeks and especially the tip of your nose

[schemmentis]

La Cosa Nostra - Pt. 14

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13

Cowritten w/ @janeyseymour

@janeyseymour's evil is keeping y'all guessing. Mine is making y'all wait for parts to be posted. Sorry not sorry. Love you ;)

Summary: Tensions and the disagreement between you and Melissa rise...

WC: 2k

You do your best to hide the absolute rage that you’re feeling from your girls, sat together at your regular table in the corner, but you're pissed. The longer you sit in the restaurant trying to watch after the twins as your wife is in the back, it brews- not just over the fact that she would make this decision essentially over your own head, but that she would draw your girls into the life- even just this little amount that they have no idea about. It was rule number one from the start: business never comes home. Not after Mickey. Yet here home was, sitting right in the middle of business.

“Yes, sweetheart, that's a zebra you're coloring…purple. Great job, á storin.” You murmur as you glance at a haphazardly colored page.

Rosie beams up at you, and Cat is immediately tugging at your arm to show off what she’s been working on- a lion that she’s colored different shades of pink. Out of the two of them, your eldest twin definitely has better fine motor skills. 

You look back up at the motion of someone sitting across the table from you. You expect it to be Melissa, taking her dinner break. Your eyebrow raises when you see someone else.

“Luca.” You greet as neutrally as you can manage. “What are you doin’ up here?”

“Ah, y’know, pickin’ up take out for Ma.” He answers with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

“Your ma gets take out from here?” You ask, incredulously. “Aren't her and Mel sworn off from eating the other's cooking?”

“What she don't know won't kill her,” Luca chuckles softly. He runs a hand through his hair before scratching the back of his neck. “Just don't go tellin’ her, huh? It's my turn to make dinner ‘fore she's home, and I'm runnin’ late.”

“You couldn't bribe AJ to do it for you tonight, huh?” You tease with a small smile. You may be pissed at your wife, and not thrilled at everything else going on. But Luca was still your family.

“Not tonight.” Luca agrees.

“Y’know,” your wife’s voice sounds as she comes to stand at the side of the table, a bag of Styrofoam containers set close to Luca. “You're lucky I don't tell Kristen Marie about this arrangement myself, Luca. What a hell of a brag I could get.”

Luca smiles, getting to his feet as he takes the take out bag in hand. “Yea, ya could but ya love your nephew more than braggin’ on your sister, Aunt Mel.” He says before kissing both her cheeks with a muttered thank you. 

“I’ll see youse at Sunday dinner.” He adds when he pulls away. A hand reaches out to lightly tickle each of your twins to get a laugh. “Be good, tikes.” He says before making his way out of the restaurant.

Melissa drops into the seat Luca left, sighing. “It's a busy night. I think we got more in here than usual.”

Your smile fades as Luca leaves, your gaze falling to your wife. Your anger slowly returns as you remember where you are and why.

“Maybe.” You murmur noncommittally as you look back to Cat and Rosie and their drawings, despite them not calling for your attention. It's rare that you wouldn't want to be looking at your wife when you can. Tonight, though, you know it's just going to simmer your anger. Especially with her acting as if nothing is wrong.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?” You answer her call for you without looking, helping Rosie's little fingers pull a crayon from the box.

“C’mon, ya can't even look at me?”

You finally turn your gaze back to Melissa, raising an eyebrow. 

“Look, I'm sorry, amore—”

“Don't.” You quickly cut her off. “Not here and not when I know you're saying that just ‘cause you hate me bein’ mad at you-not ‘cause you really mean it. We’ll talk about it later.”

“Yeah, later.” Melissa grumbles as she gets up, stalking back to the kitchen.

Melissa doesn't take her dinner break. You roll your eyes when Val brings out three plates with an apology. You assure her it isn't her fault.

It's when she brings the girls dessert that Val apologizes again, stopping you when you try to tell her not to. “Mel said she's gotta stay late tonight.”

You take a deep breath. Finally, you nod and mutter a thank you to Val. “Tell her to come say goodbye to the girls then.” You add, any pretense of hiding how you feel lost with how your voice sounds. 

It's a few minutes longer than it should be before Mel makes it out. She lingers in her goodbyes to the twins. Kissing each of their little cheeks multiple times and saying to be good for Mam. You cross your arms when she glances to you, not bothering to say goodbye yourself. 

“Mam you didn't kiss Mommy!” Cat is saying as you buckle her into the backseat. 

“Well you don't want cooties, do you?” You do your best to lighten and tease so the girls don't think much of the difference in your goodbye to Melissa, or lack thereof. 

By the time Melissa gets home, you’ve cooled off enough to get the girls into their own beds, after plenty of stories.

You stay up, sipping on wine, until she comes strolling in through the door. 

“You didn’t have to wait up for me,” she tells you as she drops her bag and kicks off her heels.

You roll your eyes, and the anger and hurt that you were feeling earlier comes back when you look at her again. “We’re talking about this.”

“Do we have to tonight?” she groans. “I’m exhausted.”

“And I don’t give a shit,” you say bluntly. “What made you think that you could just go over my head and make the executive decision to bring the girls to the restaurant? What the hell, Melissa. You preach all the time that we’re a team, and that sure as hell didn’t feel like a team effort there.”

“It is,” your wife folds her arms over her chest and raises a brow. Usually, you would find that pose of hers sexy, but not tonight. “I told you my thoughts behind it, and I think we’re doing the right thing.”

“You were the one who created the rule that home and business never meet,” you argue. “And then you go back on it without any regard to my thoughts or feelings on it.”

“And I tried to apologize,” she huffs. “But you didn’t want to hear it.”

“Because I know you aren’t sorry!” you half shout. Then you take a deep breath and sigh. “You know what? Whatever. If you want to mix it, be my guest. But if something happens to either of our girls because of it, know that all of that guilt will be on your shoulders because I tried to stop it. Goodnight.”

You pull the blanket draped over the back of the couch down and over your body before laying down.

“Y/N,” your wife rolls those green eyes of hers. “Come on. Come to bed.”

You just turn over and close your eyes, ignoring her pleas for you to join her in your bedroom. 

Melissa huffs. You expect to hear her trudge off for your bedroom. Instead, you feel her at your back, nudging her way to share the couch with you.

“Melissa Ann, what are you doin’?”

“You won’t come to bed so I guess we’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

“The point of me staying on the couch was to be by myself. Alone.”

“Yeah, but we said we’d never go to bed mad at each other, so.”

You roll your eyes. “Right, just like we said we’d never mix business and home.” You retort, shrugging the blanket off your shoulder and attempting to do the same to your wife.

Melissa doesn’t relinquish her arms wrapped around you though. “Y/N. Would you stop and just…talk to me if we’re really gonna go through this tonight?”

“Now you want to?” You say, twisting enough on the couch to get her face within your sight. “Melissa, you deliberately made a choice, completely without me, which you have doubled down on because you think it’s the right one. Isn’t it bad enough that we’re already putting them in danger just by being who we are? Now we’re gonna take ‘em somewhere and make the risk bigger? What, just ‘cause it isn’t too much so it’ll be okay? I’m not willing to gamble their lives like that! You or me, we know what the hell we’re doin’. Nobody can say we don’t. But them?” You point towards the girls’ bedroom, imploring your wife to get it. “They don’t understand why they can’t have cookies for breakfast. They don’t understand what they’d be putting on the line, not even a little bit.”

Melissa takes a shaky breath. “Why are you so up in arms about this? It’s the safest thing right now. You and I both know that the Feds will get off our backs with the girls always being around, and none of the goons are going to touch a hair on either Cat or Rosie’s heads because they know if they did, there would be hell to pay on all sides.”

“You don’t know that!” you hiss at her. “They ordered a hit on Bobby for somethin’ he did years before they killed him off- an’ he didn’t even deserve it. Who’s to say that they aren’t going to sink that low to get back at one of us?! Or to get us out of the way and to keep La Cosa Nostra up and running?! Melissa, if something happened to you or either of the girls, I would not be able to make it through. La Cosa Nostra would fall to the ground, and so would I. Do you not understand that?”

“We knew the risks we would have to take when we got into this business, and we knew exactly what risks we were bringing to the girls when you decided that you wanted children!” your wife points an accusatory finger at you.

“You and I both know that you were just as excited to have those two as I was, so do not pin this on me!” you seethe. “And I know you chose this life, but I did not. I got mixed up in it young, and I never wanted it to begin with! I certainly do not want our girls to get involved in it either!”

“You didn’t have to stay in this life!” she argues. “You chose to.”

“You know what?” you huff as you stand up abruptly, nearly knocking your wife to the ground in the process. “I’m done talking about this for now. I’m over it.”

“Listen,” Melissa grabs your wrist. “I’m sorry they took the salon out from under you, I’m sorry they handed the business over to me because they trust me more, and I’m sorry that you’re feeling like you aren’t contributing to the family anymore, but you do not get to just be a bitch like this!”

You rip your arm out of her grasp. “I’m the bitch?! I’m the bitch! I’m not the one who went over your head and gave the ledger to Barbara Howard- a rookie move! I’m not the one who disregarded everything and mixed our girls up with the business- despite the fact that we vowed to never do that! But yeah, okay… I’m the fuckin’ bitch. Don’t even try crawling into bed with me tonight.” You storm your way to your bedroom, locking the door as you slam it shut hard enough to shake the entirety of your little townhome. 

And then you absolutely lose it. You begin to curse the day that you ever stepped into that blasted salon. You wish you never got caught up in all of this, and you would’ve taken the out that you had been offered years ago. Maybe in another life you would’ve found your way to Melissa and fallen in love, having the blissful, domestic life that you had dreamed up when you were a kid. But now, you’re in deep, and you know it.

[babydollitzel]

two-bit mathews dating hc’s 🧸🤍

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Two-bit x Fem!reader

warnings/extra; mention of Keith smacking reader’s butt and being drunk. Sorry if I missed something. Also I calli him Keith in this one because I’m not calling him no goofy ah ‘Two-bit’ 😭

˗ˏˋ ꒰ a/n ꒱ ˎˊ˗ this is the first ff that I actually 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 so be patient and bare with me omg😢 but anyways feel free to send reqs once I actually make some rules and open the req box! ♡

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

𐙚 ok so I’m just gonna get straight into it, you can’t tell me this man doesn’t call you the most 𝙘𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙞𝙚𝙨𝙩 nicknames ever

𐙚 all jokes of course but it doesn’t make it any less embarrassing. especially when he says them around your friends, family, etc

𐙚 I mean occasionally he’d be a normal human being and call you baby or something but when he wants to be extra he’ll call you babycheeks, muffin, or honey bear LIKE WHAT

𐙚 Sometimes you wonder if he’s joking or if he’s actually being serious cause there’s no way

𐙚 makes the most dirtiest jokes anywhere anytime. Like yall saw that once scene where he lifted that girl’s skirt or where he made that dirty joke to the girl sitting in the car? Guaranteed he didn’t even know them, so let’s just say around you, his girlfriend, he gets pretty.. 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 (sorry omg)

𐙚 he has an 𝗼𝘂𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗴𝗲𝗼𝘂𝘀 laugh. Just picture it, yall are having a cute little date and what not at the diner and he just pulls out one of his jokes, starts laughing like crazy. By himself too, you let out a fake giggle or two to ease the second hand embarrassment.

𐙚 you almost ditched him then and there when people’s heads started turning, looking for the source of sound

𐙚 when yall are over at the curtis house he forces you to watch mickey mouse with him whether you like it or not

𐙚 atleast he’ll share some chocolate cake with you that one of the curtis brothers made.

𐙚 *jealousy zone* he gets pretty jealous easily. let’s say there’s some guy trying to talk you up. Keith’ll just pop out of nowhere and wrap an arm around your shoulder, staring down that guy like this 🤨

𐙚 he’ll play that whole ‘tough guy act’ and intimidate the guy, maybe even swing out his switchblade

𐙚 like who does bro think he is 😭🔥

𐙚 he’ll either make some remark or just stare the guy down. Which leads to an awkward atmosphere, eventually the guy got the message and just walked away, grumbling under his breath.

𐙚 don’t get me wrong though, you can still have guy friends. Just as long as they don’t get too close to home

𐙚 but he is pretty protective just in general. Someone talking crap about you? He’s already on them with some snarky remark. He’s so quick with it too omg. Like he’s genuinely good at putting someone in their place

𐙚 as for affection, I feel like he’d be into it but not CRAZY into it. He’d have an arm slung around your shoulder, smack your butt, have an arm around your waist, yk the basics

𐙚 but when he happens to be drunk he’s way more lovey dovey and flirty than usual.

𐙚 drunk or not, he does like to leave purposeful sloppy kisses on your cheek just to gross you out. You can just smell the alcohol on him which makes you all the more grossed out so you proceed to “wipe off” his kiss. He gets pretty butt hurt

𐙚 he got you a minnie mouse shirt to match his mickey one. You haven’t worn that thing outside the house once. may or may not have stolen it for you

𐙚 if you get along with his little sister then he’s more head over heels than before, she looks up to you a lot and it’s just one of the couple things that warms Keith’s heart

𐙚 overall he’s a pretty decent boyfriend, would definitely recommend. 10/10

[vivwritesfics]

BUN AND BOB REQUEST!

Bun hyperfixating on building her huge new Lego McLaren set and not wanting to stop until it’s done and mounted on the wall. Pistachio has to come get Bob because at this point this girls been up for hours and needs her bed! ~nurse-sainz 🥰🥰

i'm in such a bob and bun/ jake and bug mood

warnings: weapons

Bob and Bun

When Bob called through the door, called her name and got no response, it was terrifying. Especially after the last time. But, this time, there was no blood.

"Bunny!" Bob called desperately as he loosened his tie and kept on walking through the house.

He walked into the living room and there she was. On the floor, Lego on a tray in front of her. Mickey was in the kitchen, drinking a coffee. He looked towards Bob and instantly pushed away from the counter.

"She's been there since you left," Mickey mumbled as he put the coffee down.

Bob let out a little bit of a sigh. He gave Mickey a little bit of a nod and walked towards her. "Hey Bun," he muttered as he sat down on the floor beside her.

He watched as she reached for the next piece of her Lego. It was something Bob knew she'd wanted for a while, one he'd ordered for her a few months ago. He had no idea what it was, but she'd squealed when he gave it to her.

"Bun?" Bob tried again.

She hummed in response as she turned the page of the instruction book.

"Mickey said you've been here all day. Have you had any water or anything?" He asked gently.

She made a noncommittal noise and continued to build.

Bob let out a huff. He pushed himself up from the floor and walked into the kitchen. Grabbing her favourite mug from the cupboard, he filled it with water and took it back over to where she sat on the floor.

Bun was entirely consumed by her Lego McLaren. She spent the evening building, almost completely ignoring Bob. But he still sat with her. In the silence of the evening he was able to get on with work, fill out forms and such (He had a list of who had what weapons and when they had to bring them back. Jake owed at least two handguns).

But it was getting later and later in the evening. "C'mon, Bun," said Bob as he tried gently to get her to stand up.

"Floyd, I love you but piss off."

"Baby," he said with warning in his voice. "You're gonna get tired and grouchy if you don't come to bed now."

"Pfft."

That had Bob raising his eyebrows. "None of that now, Bun," he said as he grabbed a hold of the tray and moved it away from her. "You can finish it tomorrow."

A huff left her lips. She put her almost built McLaren on the tray with the rest of the Lego, folded her arms over her chest and turned away from Bob.

He pushed his glasses up his nose (before he'd sat and filled out paperwork, Bob had swapped out his contacts for his glasses. It was one of those things he did to signify to himself that the work day was wrong) and grabbed her, pulling her up.

"Bobby, stop! I'm almost finished!"

"Fine," Bob said as he let go of her. "Don't come complaining to me when you're tired."

Sleeping without Bun by his side sucked. Bob laid awake, her side of the bed cold. But then Pistachio the cat was jumping on the bed. He pushed his head against Bob's. "Hey, Piss," he mumbled and went to stroke him.

But, the moment Bob raised his hand, Pistachio bit him and jumped off the bed.

Bob knew what that meant. He knew Pistachio being nice to him was too good to be true, he obviously wanted something. Grabbing his glasses, he followed the cat. Where Bob had expected Pistachio to take him to the food bowl, he didn't.

No, Pistachio took him into the living room. And then Bob saw her, finished McLaren on the tray, eyes shut as she rested against the sofa behind her. "Oh, Bunny," Bob whispered. He carefully stepped over her finished Lego.

His hands were so gently as he picked her up and held her against his chest. He couldn't help but kiss her forehead as he carried her to the bedroom.

Of course, she didn't stay asleep. No, as Bob helped to get her into her pyjamas, she woke up. "Bobby," she whispered, voice croaky. "I finished my Lego."

"I know you did, Bunny," he said and helped her to tie her hair up. "It looks really good."

She blinked up at him, looking so fucking sleepy and sweet. "Can you help me hang it up?"

Bob climbed into the bed beside her. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, placing a kiss to the back of her neck. "Tomorrow, Bunny."

Her fingers laced through his own, settling over her stomach. "Love you, Bobby."

"Love you too, Bun."

(yes seb if you're seeing this it's for youuuu)

[venus-haze]

Rip 'Em to Shreds (Mickey Altieri x Reader)

Summary: Mickey’s your boyfriend, and he’s not cheating on you. At least, you don't think so, until your roommate plants the seeds of doubt in your head. While sneakily trying to find out the truth for yourself, being in the wrong place at the wrong time lands you as suspect number one in the Ghostface killings at Windsor College.

Note: Gender neutral (mildly fem-coded) reader, but no other descriptions are used. I think Mickey was a fun Ghostface, and I’m a sucker for Timothy Olyphant, so this is the result. I rewatched Scream 2 recently but obviously took creative liberties with some things. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Descriptions of violence, paranoia, and emotional manipulation. Do not interact if you're under 18.

You stared at the blinking cursor on the library computer screen, silently cursing yourself for letting procrastination get the better of you. As much as you loved going to Windsor College, you were beginning to suspect that declaring a Literature major would be your downfall, especially the paper you were supposed to be working on. You already knew what you were going to write about, having notes and a weird-looking outline ready to go. It had just been a matter of sitting down and actually writing the paper that was due the following week.

It didn’t help that Mickey and his friends were exceptionally good at dragging you into more ways to procrastinate a paper that could easily segue into a grad school application. Perhaps the importance of the paper impacted your attitude toward it, not wanting to face the behemoth that would determine your academic future. 

Just as you were halfway through a sentence on the second page of your paper, everything went dark.

“Mickey, c’mon,” you whined.

“Give me some credit, you’ve been hard to track down,” he said, moving his hands from over your eyes.

He pulled up a seat next to you, leaning on the stack of books piled next to the computer. 

“What’re you writing about?”

“Sexuality in 19th century gothic literature—dark corridors, bodice ripping, ghosts, rape, incest, vampires, mad women, all that fun stuff.”

He grinned, tugging on the hem of your shirt. “You had me at bodice ripping.”

“Later, lover boy,” you smiled. “I have to finish this draft before the library closes.”

He tapped on the computer screen. “Dining hall closes in about an hour. Don’t skip dinner for this paper.”

“I hate not having a kitchen,” you lamented. “It makes no sense the dining hall closes at eight when night classes go until nine and the library’s open until ten.”

He gave your shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Next year we’ll get an apartment, then you can cook at two in the morning all you want.”

You couldn’t help the adoring smile that spread across your lips. “You wanna move in together?” 

“Yeah, don’t you?”

“Of course I do.”

“Good,” he said, his smile matching yours. “Come over whenever you finish that. The roomie went home for the weekend so–”

“So I should plan to be there all weekend?”

“It’s like you can read my mind.”

You laughed. “Shut up before I change mine, jerk.”

“Look, I’ll be late getting in, I have to work on that short film for class, but I’ll leave the door unlocked for you.”

“Okay, see you later. Love you.”

“Love you too,” he said, giving you a kiss before getting up from the chair. “Don’t skip dinner.”

It wasn’t until you were six pages into your paper and your stomach rumbled that you remembered to glance at the clock in the corner of the computer. A quarter to nine. Damn. You took a chance on one of the vending machines in the library, getting a chocolate bar and a bag of chips to tide you over until you could eat a real meal. 

You made incredible progress on your paper, though. The promise of spending the weekend with your boyfriend was a good motivator to at least bullshit your way through the first draft. It was only a draft, after all, it didn’t need to be perfect. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

By the time you reached the end of page seven and had typed up your bibliography, you felt like your vision was blurring as you tried to proofread what you’d written. Rubbing your eyes, you hoped to shake off some of the screen exhaustion to at least catch any glaring typos. Finally, at about half past nine, you’d printed your paper and had packed up, heading back to your dorm to get what you needed for the weekend.

Usually when you walked around campus at night, there weren’t many people out and about. Windsor College was a sleepy liberal arts school for the most part, which you appreciated. The groups of people ambling around finally clicked when you noticed Greek letters on various t-shirts. You hadn’t been all that interested in getting involved in Greek life, turning down an offer from some of Mickey’s friends to join them at the Delta Lambda Zeta party that night. 

You weren’t surprised, however, to return to your dorm and find your roommate Kim lounging on a beanbag chair, her eyes glued to the small TV on top of her dresser.

“Hey,” she said, barely glancing at you as you walked in.

“Did you go to class today?” you asked as you set your backpack down, unzipping it so you could shove your pajamas and a change of clothes inside.

Kim finally answered when you walked past the TV to get to something in your dresser. “What? Yeah, I went to one this afternoon. I slept through the morning one.”

“Seriously? I woke you up for that before I left.”

“I fell back asleep,” she shrugged. “You going to Mickey’s?”

“Yeah. I’ll be back Sunday night, or Monday morning,” you said.

“Are you seriously bringing your books with you while you’re sucking and fucking at your boyfriend’s for the weekend?”

“First of all, gross. Second, he’s filming tonight. Might as well be productive while I wait.”

“Isn’t this like the fifth time in the past two weeks he’s been ‘filming’? Interesting how that’s happening while all the sororities are having their bullshit pledge mixers.”

“I know the air quotes around filming. I don’t wanna hear it.”

“I’m just saying!”

“Kim, he just asked me to move in together next year. I don’t think he’s cheating.”

“Maybe he’s just deflecting to keep you off the scent.”

“Of what? He’s been working on a short film that has a lot of night scenes. He even asked me to be in it, and I said no. You watch way too much daytime TV instead of actually going to class.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t come crying to me when you catch him six inches deep in an Omega Beta Zeta or whatever.”

You shook your head while shoving the last of your toiletries into your backpack. “Whatever. Bye.”

One more reason to live with Mickey the following school year, no more dealing with ridiculous roommates. Kim wasn’t that bad in comparison to the horror stories you’d heard about other people’s roommates, but she always had a knack for making an ass of herself. 

As you walked across campus to Mickey’s dorm, you tried to shake Kim’s implications from your mind. Mickey wasn’t cheating on you. You trusted him, and the two of you had so many mutual friends all over campus that if he were, someone would have told you by now. Despite your attempts to reassure yourself, you found your mind racing, and you became the type of partner you swore you’d never become.

If you happened to divert your walk to his dorm to go past where he was supposedly filming, he couldn’t blame you for the coincidence. The clear, beautiful night was perfect for frat parties and leisurely walks in the moonlight. You passed by a few of your friends from your major, stopping to talk with them for a little bit before continuing on your way.

It seemed like in the fifteen minutes or so you’d spent walking around, you saw less and less people. Mickey said he’d been filming near the sorority houses, but you didn’t see him around. Your heart sank to your stomach. Could Kim have been right? No. You wouldn’t jump to that conclusion so quickly. Instead, you kept walking, hoping to find him a little farther up.

In the distance, you could see a girl standing on the front porch of one of the sorority houses, phone in her hand as she looked around frantically. Weird. She retreated inside, and against your better judgment, you decided to get a closer look of what was going on.

You noticed a gleam of silver out of the corner of your eye and stopped in your tracks upon seeing a black-robed figure with a stark white ghost mask that stood out in the darkness, stalking up the brick pathway across the grassy quad. Whoever was beneath the costume didn’t notice you, and you wanted to keep it that way, hiding behind a nearby tree as you watched him approach the Omega Beta Zeta house. 

Clamping your clammy hand over your mouth, you tried to make as little noise as possible so as to not catch Ghostface’s attention. A cold chill raced across your skin. Someone was about to die. There wasn’t enough time to run to a phone and call the police or campus security. It’d take at least ten minutes for either to arrive, and then, it’d be too late. For a moment, you considered running after him, but quickly realized that without a weapon, it wouldn’t do any good. 

You watched helplessly as the masked killer slipped into the open door of the sorority house. Just a few moments later, the door shut as a girl left for you assumed one of the parties that night, but it wasn't the same girl you'd just seen outside. Unsure of what to do, you waited, but it didn't take long for a faint yell to tear through the silence of the night.

Fear froze your limbs, keeping you in place as you heard the terrified screams coming from inside the house. Your heart racing, you swore you were going to pass out until you saw the balcony doors swing open, a girl tumbling onto it, followed closely behind by Ghostface. As soon as the knife pierced her, your body finally went into panic mode, and you started running. 

More screaming and a loud crash came from behind you. Looking back, you saw the splintered balcony and a body splayed on the ground below. Ghostface slipped out from the front door, and seemed to be heading in the same direction you were sprinting off too. Oh shit, had he seen you? Was he following you? 

Tears clouded your vision as you ran, and your shoe caught on a loose brick in the walkway, sending you to the ground. The contents of your backpack crashed and rattled against each other on the impact, and you groaned at your skinned wrists. Still, you pushed yourself off the ground with determination, not bothering to look behind you and see if Ghostface had noticed your fall or was now tailing you.

Slamming the door to Mickey’s room shut, you threw your backpack aside and immediately climbed into his bed, pulling the covers over your head, as if that would shield you from Ghostface. What the fuck was taking Mickey so long? Your breath caught in your throat. He probably had no idea Ghostface was running wild across campus. Burying your face in his pillow, you screamed into it, releasing the pent up anxiety and frustration over not being able to do anything about the situation.

You weren’t sure when you’d fallen asleep, but the sun had already risen when you were woken up by the phone. Shoving the covers off of you, you hastily picked up, almost expecting to hear Ghostface’s unsettling voice on the other end of the line.

“Hello?”

Relief swept over you when you heard Mickey’s voice instead of the one you were dreading. “Hey baby, it’s me—“

“Where are you? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m at the police station. Everything’s—well, everything’s not fine. I am, though. I’ll explain later. Have you been in my room all night?”

You hesitated before answering with a weak, “Yeah.”

The other end of the line was silent for a moment. “Alright, I’m leaving now. I should be there in like, 15 minutes.”

“Okay, see you soon. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

The other end of the line went dead. You looked at your discarded backpack on the floor, and decided to at least freshen up and change out of yesterday’s clothes before Mickey returned. Each article of clothing that fell to the floor felt like evidence piling up. You hadn’t technically done anything wrong, but the previous night's events, your complacency, made your limbs feel abnormally heavy as you changed into fresh clothes. Before you knew it, you were face to face with your boyfriend, who looked almost shocked when he saw you.

“What happened to you? Your wrists–” He gently tilted your head up, inspecting your chin. “You’re all scraped up.”

“I tripped and fell,” you said.

“You’re sure that’s all that happened?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You know Cici Cooper, from my film studies class?”

You nodded. You knew Cici. You also knew she was an Omega Beta Zeta. 

“Some Ghostface wannabe stabbed her and pushed her off the balcony of the Omega Beta Zeta house, and then showed up at the Delta Lambda Zeta party.”

“Cici’s dead?”

You sat on the edge of his bed, your head in your hands as you let out a pained whine.

“Baby, what’s going on?” he asked, putting his arm around you as he sat by your side.

“I saw him.”

“Saw who?”

“I saw Ghostface. I saw him run into the Omega Beta Zeta house, but when I heard screaming I–I got so scared I just came back here. That’s when I fell.”

“Y/N, why didn’t you call the police?”

“I was terrified, Mickey! I wasn’t thinking straight and I—if I call now they’re gonna think I had something to do with it. Isn’t that what Randy says? Everyone’s a suspect! Oh my god, they’ll think it was me.”

“No one will think that.”

His paltry reassurance was no match for your word vomit, because before you could help it, you blurted out, “Are you cheating on me?”

“What? No! Why would you even think that?”

“Why did the police question you if you were shooting your movie?”

He sighed. “Derek was running late to the Delta party. He asked me to stop in and check on Sidney. I was at the party for maybe ten minutes before the police found Cici’s body. After Ghostface showed up, they questioned everyone who even looked at the place that night.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. Kim—“

“Is about to be on academic probation because she watches soap operas instead of going to class.”

“Yeah. Maybe I should go ahead and call the police, let them know what I saw.”

“No, like you said before, with the timing and everyone being on edge, I don’t think it’d be a great look right now.”

“So what do I do?”

“Let’s just keep this between us, okay? No more secrets unless it’s with each other.”

“Okay,” you agreed. 

He took your hand, turning it over to look at the damage to it. “Jesus, are you sure you’re alright?”

“I should probably go to the student health center, huh?”

“I’ll walk you.”

“You probably haven’t slept. I’ll be fine.”

“Just let me do this. I don’t want you to be alone right now.”

You smiled, giving him a kiss that he quickly escalated, laying you back on his bed. Making out with Mickey was nice, it was normal. For a few minutes, you let yourself forget about Ghostface as you parted your lips for him, letting him slip his tongue inside your mouth. When his hands gripped your wrists to pin you to the bed, however, you hissed in pain, and he quickly released them.

“Sorry, sorry. I forgot,” he whispered, pressing apologetic kisses to your lips. “We should get going.”

Reluctantly, you agreed, remembering that his roommate wouldn’t be back any time soon, and you had the rest of the weekend to yourselves after you went to the health center, and got something to eat, too, since you were thinking about it.

Mickey kept his arm securely around you as the two of you made your way across campus. You spotted Sidney, Randy, and Hallie speaking among themselves at one of the tables outside, and Mickey made a bit of a detour to go talk to them. You couldn’t exactly read their expressions when they saw you until Randy spoke up.

“You sure missed a lot last night. Convenient,” he said, not bothering to hide his accusatory tone.

“Cut it out. I already told you guys they were working on a paper,” Mickey said, holding you closer to his side. “You can check the computer logs in the library.”

“Wh-What happened to your arms?” Sidney asked, her eyes fixed on your scraped wrists. For a split second, you thought it was out of concern, but then quickly realized the suspicion in her voice.

“Look, I’m really sorry about what happened, but I don’t know anything,” you said. “After I finished my paper, I went back to my dorm and then I tripped and fell on the way to Mickey’s. There were plenty of people who saw me last night.”

Hallie gave you a tense smile. “It’s okay, Y/N.”

“Yeah, I’m taking them to the student health center so nothing gets infected. We’ll see you guys later,” Mickey said.

The varying looks of distrust on the group's faces made you want to cry. As you and Mickey resumed your walk to the dining hall, your brain worked overtime to come up with worst case scenarios, as if somehow the Ghostface killings could be pinned onto you, even the ones in town despite you being with your friends during that whole incident.

“They all think it’s me.”

Mickey’s silence was more than enough of an answer to make you panic.

Stopping in your tracks, you grabbed his arm. “You don’t think it’s me, do you?” 

“I know it’s not you,” he said, his voice soft and reassuring. “They’re just on edge after what happened last night, especially after Derek went back into the Delta Lambda Zeta house after Sidney saw Ghostface—“

“Oh my god, is he okay?”

Mickey shrugged. “He got cut, but not fatally. Not the best look on his part.”

“What? No way, Derek would never—Seriously?”

“C’mon, Y/N, why would he go back in there?”

“So what, since he happened to get cut and I happened to trip, now they’re all thinking Derek and I have been secretly scheming to chop everyone up? Where is he? Maybe I can talk to him and—“

“Why don’t we just get to the health center before you run across campus to find the other top suspect in this whole thing.”

“Don’t say that. Please don’t say that.”

He nodded. “I’ll drop it. I’m sorry, baby.”

The rest of the walk to the student health center was silent, though Mickey kept his arm wrapped around you. 

“If you don’t have anyone else, you know you have me,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I know,” you said, though you didn’t exactly believe yourself.

[bittersigns]

two thousand words of ian making his husband feel good and loved. no plot found here, just self-indulgent p0rn.

It's to the quietness around the bedroom that Ian slowly awakes to.

He feels himself being forcefully pulled away from sweet unconsciousness, and, refusing to pry open his eyes just yet, he lets his limbs roll over groggily to the side. Stretching his arms out a bit, Ian frowns as he nuzzles his face on his pillowcase because the mattress is cold and the spot beside him is empty.

Fighting off the sleepy haze from his brain is an arduous task, but he manages it, although begrudgingly so. He is facing the wall when his eyes blink open, and just like he thought, there is not a warm, sturdy body next to him, being embraced by his arms. 

Instead, there is a soft, Mickey-scented pillow, and Ian can't help but to grumble discontentedly. He inhales his husband's deep, slightly sweet cologne as his eyes shut for a second. It's not physically him, but his smell is enough for now, and Ian is drifting off before he can even think twice about it. 

Fuck it, it's sunday anyway.

Eventually, the bane of his existence—the fucking alarm in his phone—has him getting his ass up, and he scowls at the reminder that flashes on his screen and turns it off. Fucking “meds!!!!”. As if he needs a fucking reminder.

In the bathroom, he takes a piss and brushes his teeth, takes a brief moment to look in the mirror, rubbing a hand across the stubble growing along his jaw and deciding that he can deal with that later. Probably get Mickey to shave it off for him again, if he's in a good mood today, or maybe let it grow into a beard. He's been thinking about doing it someday.

Shaking his head, he downs his meds and checks the watch on his wrist. 8:08AM, it reads, like it always does because he fucking nails routine, and his own mood only seems to only get better. Sure, it would be even better if he had woken up cuddling with his husband. A good morning bj, perhaps. Get nice and handsy while they are still sleepy and stuff.

But, somehow, finding him in the kitchen, wearing only a pair of boxers and a shirt and fumbling with their brand new coffee maker has Ian's good mood skyrocket to perfection, and he's smiling as he creeps behind him, his hands firm as they slide down to hold Mickey by his hips.

“You're up early,” he says in lieu of a greeting, and the quality of his voice is slightly raspy from sleeping, deeper than it normally is.

Mickey merely rolls his eyes, and Ian knows he is smiling too, feels it as he leans to tenderly kiss the skin of his nape. His eyes look down over Mickey's shoulder to watch him pour coffee into their mugs, the steam curling around them, the aroma of coffee rich and familiar.

“Hard to do shit with you hangin’ onto me, man,” Mickey huffs, pretending to be oh-so-bothered by it.

He isn't. 

Ian hums in response, fingers digging into skin, pressing his weight into Mickey's back until he has him trapped against the countertop. 

“Almost made me drop my coffee, dumbass, lemme—” and Mickey is cut short when Ian's lips find his earlobe, body tensing up at the sensation of a warm, wet tongue licking around the shell of his ear. “Ian—”

“I know you're angry because I got home late yesterday,” Ian declares and rests his forehead where Mickey's neck meets his shoulder. “I wanna make it up to you,” he continues, satisfied as he feels Mickey's body giving in, opening up to his touches. “Gonna make it up real good to you, I promise.”

Despite what his body is screaming for, Mickey loves to be a little shit, so he says, “Fuckass Philip doesn't need you today?” and tries to get away from his hold.

Lip ringed yesterday asking for help—turns out that renovating a fucking house isn't a task meant for one person, especially if said person has 1) a toddler and 2) a goddamn newborn to take care of—and Ian, sweet, thoughtful Ian just couldn't turn his brother down for once and make him shove a hammer up his shitter (obviously, in Mickey's kind words).

So, a perfect saturday meant for fucking like rabbits was ruined again. Last week they had to babysit Franny. Fucking Gallahers man, Mickey had complained, can't live without tormenting everything and everyone.

And Ian wants to make it up to him because he misses him—a man can't live off of quickies and rushed handjobs and half-assed head forever. He misses that drawn out intimacy, the foreplay, that sweet reward he feels when he tears his husband apart just to pull him back together again with the white-hot pleasure he provides him. 

Knows Mickey misses it just as much, judging by the way goosebumps rise in his skin when he trails small, indulgent kisses all over his neck, paying a little bit more attention to the small, practically healed hickeys that are normally obscured by the collar of his shirts.

Laying his tongue flat against a faint mark there, the one that is barely noticeable, all tiny and yellowish and forgotten about, Ian sucks at the skin and then sinks his teeth into it just because he can. Just because the sound that makes its way past Mickey's lips is a low, throaty thing that shows him—proves to him that he's right. Mickey can act all high and mighty, so fucking bratty and stubborn, but he can't deny what his body wants. What his body craves.

And when Ian hears him set his mug on the countertop with a shaky exhale of breath, he knows he's won.

“Gonna let me make you feel good?” he asks, and the answer is yes, yes, yes, he knows.

Because Mickey is now smirking as he pushes himself backwards, effectively creating a sweet type of friction between his ass and the tented front of Ian's sweats, and it colors his voice as he answers, “Fuck yeah.”

It's an easy thing to do, getting Mickey out of his boxers, but Ian feels like taking it slow today—lets his hands explore a bit more, tracing the expanse of pale skin under the fabric of Mickey's shirt. He hears a soft sigh when his fingers brush over a small, pink nipple, his touch light as a feather, and a satisfied hum when he takes the nub between his thumb and index finger and pulls.

With a body so pliant like Mickey's, so giving, Ian just can't help but to marvel every single piece of him. Wrestling-as-foreplay is fun and stimulating and so them, but this slower, I-have-to-fucking-worship-you intimacy is always going to be in the podium for him. How wouldn't it, when Mickey groans so beautifully as he slips his boxers down his legs, making it pool at his ankles, and grabs two handfuls of ass in his big hands?

“C'mon,” it's all Ian makes out of his husband's words. “Ian,” he continues, urging, impatient.

Ian thinks about shutting him up, but deems it unnecessary—all he needs to do is get on his knees, spread Mickey's fat cheeks with purpose, holding him open with both thumbs to get a good look of that tight furl of muscle, and dart out his tongue to lick at him.

Mickey's knee jerks, knocking accidentally on a drawer handle, and a hiss slips past his spit-coated lips. “Mmm, God, again,” he's already pleading, bent over the countertop, trying to get Ian to stop with his kitten licks around his hole and actually get on with it.

Just so goddamn impatient, always. Ian loves him.

“Open your legs a bit, baby,” he instructs, petting his ass. “Yeah, that's it, c'mon,” and just as Mickey obliges, Ian dives in, lapping sloppily all over him.

He hums at the taste of him, clean and shaved and fuckin’ perfect, unhinges his jaw to prod around his hole with the tip of his tongue, applying just enough pressure to feel Mickey's legs wobbling. It's addictive, the way his husband sighs, immersed in his bliss as he shoves his ass shamelessly in Ian's face, fingers gripping tightly at the corners of the countertop.

It really is such a shame that Mickey took so long to get used to this. It took him someone to do it right. Someone that eats him out good until he's panting, desperate at the sensation of a pink, experienced tongue pushing past the tight ring of muscle of his hole, getting him nice and wet and wanting.

“Yeah,” comes a breathy drawl from above just as Ian begins to circle Mickey's hole with his thumb. 

He finds himself grinning, sinking his finger slowly inside, feeling the body he manipulates so well get accustomed to the intrusion. 

A thumb is nothing compared to the grand scheme of things, really, but Ian pushes it dry—spit can only lubricate so much before it dries up—and Mickey practically sings at the sting he feels, “Fuuuck.”

“You love this,” Ian rasps out with certainty.

Mickey nods, not ashamed in the slightest. “Damn right I do,” he says, looking over his shoulder, down so their eyes could meet, and smiles that nasty, lost-in-pleasure smile.

Fuck.

This time Ian spits directly over his rim, pushing his finger deeper inside. Mickey brings a hand to grab one of his ass cheeks, presenting more of him to Ian's hungry gaze, and gasps as another thumb starts to sink in. It's a stretch, a more painful one, but spikes of pleasure are running wild in his veins, his sharp eyebrows pinching together, mouth going slack.

It's filthy—Ian licking over both thumbs where they hold Mickey's hole open. It's even filthier because Mickey loves this shit. That fine line between pain and pleasure that leaves him deliciously on edge, heat pooling in his guts, his cock twitching as it stands proudly and untouched. 

Ian laps at his rim again and again like he's a starving man, has Mickey trembling and whining because it's so good, so messy, and his stubble offers a new type of sensation as it scratches the sensitive skin of his perineum when he goes down to suck it too. 

“Shit, Ian,” Mickey curses, eyes slipping shut. His tip is drooling, pre sticking to his fingers when he reaches down to tug at his cock, mind malfunctioning a little because he doesn't know if he wants to push his ass back and get Ian's tongue deeper inside his hole or thrust into his fist. “So good, fuck, 'm fuckin’ close.”

Humming, Ian pulls back, and a string of crystalline saliva connects his chin to Mickey's rim. “'m gonna make you come on my tongue, baby? You want that?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah? With your sloppy hole stretched on my fingers?” Ian punctuates his question by pulling both thumbs apart just so, stretching him open. 

Knows it stings sweetly because Mickey cries out, “Yes, fuck, get your fuckin’ mouth back on me n’ make me come.”

And Ian doesn't need to be told twice.

Using just his thumbs and his tongue, he makes Mickey's legs tremble—when he spits in his palm and wraps his hand around Mickey's aching, weeping cock, he gets him shivery and moaning, and it blends with the slick sound of his hand sliding up and down. So goddamn filthy, so fucking good.

Ian just needed to press the pad of one of his fingers up and grind it against Mickey's prostate. That's all it took before he heard a long groan, a “Shiiiit,” and felt Mickey's body spasming in his hold—muscles flexing and straightening, strings of cum spurting between his fingers, down his wrist.

Mickey is leaning on his forearms, breathing in shallow gasps of air as he comes down from his high, when Ian pulls back again. His knees hurt, his back too, but he can't find in himself to complain when his husband gazes down at him with a lazy grin, not yet fucked out but definitely satisfied.

“Good?” Ian hums, smiling, wiping his chin with the back of his hand.

Mickey nods his head. “C'mere,” he tells him.

Ian goes, adjusting the front of his sweatpants where his cock is still very much hard. Just as he's on his feet, Mickey is already on him, bringing him down with a hand on the back of his head to crash their mouths together.

It's a slow and passionate kiss, tongues sliding against each other, teeth nipping at each other's lips. Ian feels Mickey smile against him, small hands trying to tug his sweats down, and he reaches out to link their fingers.

“I'm good,” he whispers into his mouth. “Just want to make you feel good."

Mickey huffs, clearly not content with that. “Not even a handie?”

With a shake of his head, Ian leans down to pepper kisses along his jaw. “Nah,” he decides, “Down to fuck you good after breakfast, though. I'm starving.”

That makes Mickey snort. “Okay, tough guy. Get some protein in you before you nut in me, then.”

And he says it so casually that Ian can't do anything but laugh, pecking him on the lips. “Love you.”

“Mmm, love you too.”

[fictionalcharactersaremypassion]

Unexpected Encounters

Here you go @zutaralesbian!! I hope it's what you're looking for!

///

“I found a love, for me....” 

Under the dimmed lights, standing nearby the open bar, Fiona Gallagher let out a soft sigh as she took a drink from her beer. On the dance floor, Ian encircled his arms around Mickey to hold him tight, swaying to the song. As if no one else existed, the rest of the world fading away, there they were; it was only them, eyes closed to take in this moment, reveling in the start of a new chapter in their life. 

And it was fucking beautiful. 

For so long, she’d been searching for that kind of love and each time she thought she just might, it was viciously taken from her in some way. Bitter memories of Jimmy-Steve and Sean came to the surface, to which she drowned them out with a large gulp of beer. 

Nothing seemed to be going for her. Not with her love life, not with her life in general. 

Moving out to Florida was supposed to be a fresh start for her. She’d envisioned so much, only for it all to fall short. The felony on her record made it difficult to find a good paying job, let alone her lack of college diploma. She’d found a decent apartment to live in, the first night giving her this sudden feeling of loneliness that hit her. 

Little had changed in her life other than not not taking care of a house full of kids. 

And the thing is, she assumed she’d be happier that way. In some was, she was; it was easier to live, easier to breathe when she didn’t have five kids dependent on her, worryin’ about how she’ll pay the bills or if they’ll have enough food to eat. But in other ways, she didn’t know what to do with herself. It wasn’t like she wanted all of that responsibility again. It was just really fuckin’ complicated. 

Now here she was, back in her childhood home, crashing on the couch until she could find a place for herself. All while her younger siblings had moved on with their lives, coming out more successful than she was capable of being. 

She blew out a breath, eyes shifting to see Vee and Kev at one of the tables, laughing with some other guests. She’d been meanin’ to to tell her that they needed to catch up soon. Fiona missed her best friend a lot in the time that she’d been away. Down in Florida, Fiona had some acquaintances, maybe even a couple people she’d call friends. But nothing ever compared to what she and Vee had. 

Fiona shook off the nostalgia that came over her. There was no use in dwelling on it, especially today. This was about Ian and Mickey, and she’d be damned if she let herself ruin this occasion for her brother and brother-in-law. 

Brother-in-law. It was hard to comprehend that, to think that the very same boy who used to terrorize the Southside was now married into the family. 

Her lips tugged up into a smile as the song came to an end. Ian and Mickey were holding onto each other’s faces as they had been earlier, leaning in for a kiss. 

She was happy for them. There’d been times she was unsure about Mickey, hell, even times she thought he wasn’t good enough for her little brother. But Mickey had proved himself and shown just how much he cared for Ian, going above and beyond what she’d expect from anybody when they dealt with Ian’s bipolar diagnosis together. 

As a new song came on, one of the tables closest to her was empty, so she took a seat, leaning back with her legs crossed. Her eyes flittered around the room, catching sight of her other siblings. In some ways, it was kind of sad to see them so grown up, engrossed in their own issues and having their own lives when she still remembered their bright eyes, chubby cheeks and sweet smiles. 

And where did that leave Fiona? They didn’t need her like they used to. Hell, she couldn’t even find herself needed elsewhere. To some extent, it felt like they all moved on while she was stuck behind, trying to claw her way out and make it in the world. 

Out of her peripheral, a figured moved closer to her but there were lots of people around so she didn’t think too much of it until the person was right there, his hand on the back of one of the chairs. 

“Ay, you mind if I sit here?” Iggy Milkovich asked her, and it was the very last person she expected to see there - at the wedding and asking to sit at the same table as her - so she did a double take. 

Fiona knew very little of Iggy Milkovich. At one point in time, they were in the same grade, dropping out for different reasons. She’d seen him around the Southside here and there but it’s not like they’ve ever really had a conversation. 

It came as a pretty big fucking surprise to Fiona that he was here. She certainly didn’t expect any Milkovich, well maybe besides Mandy, to attend a gay wedding. But here and there were scattered relatives of Mickey’s around the venue; Colin was doing his best to sweet talk a girl on the other side of the dance floor, Joey and Jamie were swiping frosting off the back of the cake with their fingers - and by now Mickey had noticed, reaching into his pocket for a knife that Ian swiftly plucked out of his hand - while Mandy was dancing with Sandy and Debbie. 

What’s more, though, was that Fiona was struck by how roguishly handsome he looked. He was dressed nice with the tie in disarray, hair that was neatly combed and for once, didn’t give off the impression that he was high. 

“Iggy,” she said, surprised. 

“Hey, Fiona,” he was grinning, holding onto his own beer. “Thought I saw you around here earlier.” 

“Yeah,” she pushed back some hair off her shoulder, suddenly remembering what he’d asked. “Have a seat,” she gestured towards the chair. 

He plopped down in it, one arm hanging off the back. “Thought you moved outta here,” he said, taking a swig of his drink. 

“I did,” she nodded, trying not to feel too disappointed when she thought of it, “it just didn’t work out.” 

“So you’re back now?” 

“Yeah,” she said. “I’m crashing at the house for now until I can get my own place.” 

“Ain’t Mick and Red stayin’ there too?” 

“Yeah,” she grimaced at the amount of times, too damn often, when she’d overhear them fucking. 

 Iggy was looking past her, right at Ian and Mickey. “I feel sorry for anyone that's gotta hear them two bastards going at it. Had to listen them fucking for a while when we lived together.” 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” she laughed. She understood his pain. The Gallagher house had thin walls, too fucking thin if she could hear the damn names her brother and Mickey called each other in bed. God, just the thought made her want to shudder. 

Iggy was grinning some more. That could’ve been from the situation or he was just drunk. “Walked in on them once too. Thought Mickey was gonna flip his shit.” 

“Oh, God,” Fiona could just imagine that. She drank some more beer to rid herself of any images that might be conjured up. 

“Wasn’t my fault, though. Mick left the door unlocked,” Iggy shrugged. “Course, he didn’t care. Probably woulda tried to knock my teeth in if Gallagher hadn’t stopped him.” 

“Can’t be any worse than when Lip walked in on them,” Fiona remembered that one. Mickey had been murderous. Lip had been pinned under him with his throat covered by Mickey’s hands. 

Lip hadn’t been pleased with the casual tone in which Ian spoke in when he’d called his husband off of him. 

Iggy snorted. He was watching them again. “Can you believe those fuckers made it here?” 

“No,” she said honestly. She let out a breath. “But I’m happy for them. They deserve it.” 

“Yeah,” Iggy said. “I remember when Gallagher was living with us. Mick was so protective of him.” 

“Same way at our house,” Fiona remembered those days. He would’ve broken somebody’s kneecaps if they uttered a single word against her brother. Even now, now that she’s back and seen their love first hand again, he would do anything for Ian and vice versa. 

Silence came over them both. Fiona repositioned herself, crossing the opposite leg this time.  Strangely, though, she didn’t have this urge to get away like she would have assumed from being near a Milkovich. 

“I’m kind of surprised you’re here,” she admitted. 

He turned to her, blinking. “Why?” 

She raised a brow. “Do you really have to ask?” 

For a couple of seconds, he stared at her with this dumb expression. Then it dawned on him. “Oh, his gay thing. I don’t give a shit where he sticks his dick. Kinda suspected ‘bout him anyway.” 

“Really?” Fiona couldn’t help but ask.

“Yeah. Never used to talk about tits and shit with us and was all secretive about his porn,” Iggy replied. “Figured it out pretty quickly when I saw ‘em kiss.” 

“You saw them kiss?” 

“Yeah, the day Mick got shot in the ass. Don’t think he ever found out I saw ‘em.” 

“And you never told anybody?” Fiona said, blown away. 

“Course not,” Iggy said with a shrug. “I ain’t stupid. Terry woulda killed him. Mick woulda definitely flipped his shit. I just had to pretend I didn't see anything. Course, then the dumbass decides to say something in front of the whole damn bar. Nearly did get himself killed.” 

He sounded fondly exasperated, a feeling she’d felt from time to time for sure, not anything she’d expect from a Milkovich, especially concerning his brother’s sexuality. 

Maybe she was wrong about him, about the family- some of them, anyway. 

Iggy kept Mickey’s secret when he didn’t have to, not to mention willingly lived with them for a while. Plus, his siblings and a couple of his cousins made it here today. Would they really have done it if they were anything like Terry? 

Iggy was oblivious to what she was thinking, just drinking the rest of his beer without a care in the world. 

“So,” she said, to which he looked back at her, “what are you doing these days?” 

Jesus, that was lame as fuck. 

Iggy didn’t seem to think so. “Not much,” he shrugged. “Gotta find me a new job. My PO’s gettin’ pissy about it.” 

“I have to find one too,” Fiona sighed. “I was working in a hotel down in Florida but I can’t see myself doin’ it again. Too many bitchy customers.” 

Iggy snorted. “Fuck that. Would’ve quit the first time that happened.” 

“I considered it some days,” she said truthfully. There was only so much she could take of being screamed at and unfairly blamed for things that weren’t her fault. “But I have to take what I can get. There’s not a ton of places that want to hire felons.” 

She used to feel bitter over it. Used to feel consumed by such anger towards herself for how she’d so carelessly endangered her little brother and ruined her life in a blink of an eye. 

It wasn’t something easy to share either. Unsurprisingly, the one guy she decided to be upfront about it and explain to him, he thought it was better if they went their separate ways.

Iggy didn’t blink an eye. “Ain’t that the truth,” he said, unfazed. “You know, I had to work at a fuckin’ flower shop once cuz my PO couldn’t find me anything else. Should’ve heard this bitch telling me I couldn’t bring any fucking weapons inside. This is the fuckin’ Southside. I’m supposed to walk around without my glock?” 

“You mean the one you’re not supposed to have while on parole?” She smirked. 

“Ay, what my PO don’t know won’t hurt him,” Iggy said dismissively.  

She snorted. “Good point.” 

Flashes of multi-colored shadows fell over their faces, bouncing away the next second. Iggy’s eyes strayed away from where they’d been glancing to look at her, keeping her under a watchful gaze. 

“You want another beer?” He said unexpectedly. 

“Sure,” she said. 

When he brought it back, he said, “Ay, let’s go outside. It’s getting too damn noisy in here.” 

This was where under any other circumstances she would’ve declined, but Fiona found herself not completely put off by the suggestion. “I would,” she said, “but I don’t know where my jacket’s gone...” 

She wasn’t lying. Fiona had taken it off when she arrived and now it was nowhere to be found. 

“I got you,” Iggy said. Fiona wondered how he was going to manage that when he hollered at the top of his lungs - though the music was still loud enough that it drowned him out somewhat. “Ay, fuckwads! Get her-” He pointed straight at Fiona, who muttered out, “Oh, Jesus,” under her breath, “a jacket before I start cracking skulls.” 

“That’s really not necessary- oh,” Fiona was thrown a black suit jacket by someone she didn’t recognize. 

“You’re welcome,” Iggy said, chugging one of the beers in his hands. 

“You couldn't have just given me yours?” Fiona said mildly, a teasing smile on her lips. 

“Fuck no. I’m not freezing my ass off,” Iggy scoffed. He smirked, though. 

Abandoning the reception, they went past the doors and out into the cold. Fiona shivered, folding her arms across her chest. They stayed within the parking lot and there was just something about that reminded her of when she used to sneak off with a couple of friends she had many years ago, just hanging around and feeling carefree before everything went to shit. 

For now, neither one of them said anything. It wasn’t that Fiona was feeling shy or anything, that wasn’t like her, but it was just different that's all. 

So she spoke up first. 

And it just so happened to be her going down memory lane. 

“Do you remember that fucking awful English teacher we had freshman year?” She said suddenly. “Mrs- fuck, what was her name? Mrs. Melvin or whatever. God, I hated her.” 

“Wasn’t she the bitch that quit halfway through class?” Iggy said with a grin. 

Fiona laughed. “Oh my God, I remember that. Nobody was listening to her and she threatened to send us all to the office if we didn’t shut up.”

“Ay, yeah. Had a fuckin’ fit when that one guy, Rubin, shot a spit ball at her,” Iggy said, paused and added, “The fuck kinda name is Rubin anyway? S’fuckin’ stupid.” 

They both laughed, and when it died down, Fiona was marveling over the fact once again that here she was, socializing with a Milkovich and she was having a pretty nice time. 

“Do you-” Fiona thought about what she was asking, deciding to go on with it, “do you ever think about what you would’ve done if you graduated?” 

She had no idea why she chose to bring this up here right now. The question had been on her mind lately, not just this second, wondering just how different her life would be if Frank and Monica were decent parents, if she didn’t have to be the one to step up for her siblings. 

“No.” 

“No?” Fiona repeated, surprised. 

“Nah. Wouldn’t have mattered. Terry woulda screwed it up anyway.”

He was honest about it, resigned, and didn’t sound upset. It made Fiona stop and think, making way for an ache in her chest, about how none of them were ever given a chance to be something, to make something of themselves. They were constantly held back by their shitty parents, shitty situations that they shouldn’t have had to deal with at their age. 

“What about you?” Iggy’s voice brought her back to the present. 

“What?” 

“You ever think about it?” He sounded curious, not just him asking out of polite obligation. Than again, she couldn’t really picture him or any of the Milkovich’s acting out of politeness. 

“Sometimes,” she smiled slightly. Dropping out of school was the hardest decision she had to make for herself, even though it was ultimately what saved them. Though, she couldn’t deny that for weeks after, she’d been plagued with a bone deep sense of sadness. She’d used to dream, used to hope of getting out of the Southside someday with a degree tucked under her belt and a decent job. Those dreams never looked unrealistic until she finally realized the depth of Frank and Monica’s bullshit. 

While other people her age were out partying, rebelling against their parents or figuring out what they wanted to do in life, Fiona was preoccupied in other ways; whether they’d have enough for the bills this month, how they’d get food on the table for all of them, whether Frank or Monica were going to come home when they left for long stretches of time. 

Iggy lit a cigarette, offering it to her. She took it, her smile still intact. 

“You know, I thought I had everything going for me at one time; grades were good, I was doing track. And then it was just gone,” she sighed. “I thought if I got out of here, things would be different. Seems like the bullshit just followed me.” As Fiona was passing back the cigarette, she had an oh shit moment. Was she really spilling her guts to him? “Shit. Forget I said all that.” 

He shrugged. “Where’d you run off to anyway?” 

“Florida.” 

“Ay, at least you got out. S’more than most can say.” 

She supposed that was true. “That’s surprisingly insightful,” she was teasing, only gently. 

He puffed up his chest. “I can be that way if I wanna.” All kidding aside, he knocked into her shoulder with his own. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with comin’ back.” 

“Even with no job and I’m sleepin’ on the couch?” She deadpanned. 

“Been there,” he said, then considered, “Course, I usually find some chick to shack up with.” She let out a laugh, shaking her head. “I slept out on those streets one night and it ain’t all it’s cracked up to be.” 

“Haven’t been there yet, thank God.” 

“Like all those Gallaghers would toss you out,” Iggy piffed. She had to agree. “Course if they do, left side my bed could use some warmin’.” 

He winked at her. 

Fiona turned her body to face him, plucking the cigarette from him. “Is that right? Who says I wanna be the one to warm it?” 

“Don’t play dumb, Gallagher,” Iggy was closer now, having invaded her personal space. “Saw the way you were looking at me earlier.” 

The cigarette was dropped to the ground, put out by the bottom of her shoe. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Fiona said slyly. 

Just a second later, her arms around his neck and his on her waist, Fiona was engaged in a fucking hot makeout with Iggy Milkovich. 

It was needy, full of fire she’d been searching for. God, even Iggy’s touch was making her weak. 

“Holy shit,” she muttered. He grinned cockily. 

“You seein’ anyone right now?” 

“And I’m if I’m not?” She said instead of answering his question. 

“How ‘bout you come to my place tonight?”

Fiona grinned. "Better be a damn good bed. My back's been killing me on that shitty couch."

She didn’t come here expecting to find herself in a Milkovich. 

But Fiona was damn glad she did. 

[vintagelacerosette]

Wednesday tag game

Hiii darling angelpies! I am here on timeish 😆

I was tagged by these dazzling sweethearts Nosho @creepkinginc Mel @gardenerian Evie @energievie Deanna @deedala Kat @ mybrainismelted Julia @blue-disco-lights Al @spookygingerr Jessica @guinguin1984

How did you get into the fandom?

Like a lot of us 😆 I saw a fan edit of Mickey & Ian on YouTube (I can't find it again even when I've searched my history 😭) I was kinda in between fandoms at the time with Malex from Roswell New Mexico but they were broken up at the time & buddie lol.

But then I was shot through the heart when I went through the gallavich tag & it felt like home 🥰

How long have you been here?

I was lurking at the end of 2021 & the first official time I contributed to this darling fandom in Feb 2022 with gallacrafts 💝

What's the first fandom channel you found? (youtube, reddit, tumblr, insta, twitter, FB, other?)

Here on tumblr babeeeyy

What's your favourite now?

Still tumblr but I wish I was better on discord 😅 I get overwhelmed & don't wanna talk over ppl 😔

Which mutual have you known the longest in the fandom?

Oh my goodness I had no idea but my longest mutual is the always spectacular Calli @callivich 🥰🩵💙 woooww!!

Which tumblerinos did you have your first fandom crush(es) on and wanted to get to know?

Y'all have to understand you are all unbelievably swoon worthy & there's only so many ppl I can tag in one post (damn you tagging limit 😣)

Ok, so definitely have a big crush on Deena @suzy-queued & to see smitten feeling is mutual got me

GIF by theresaphoenixinmyboot

Alice @darthvaders-wife Jane @captainjowl Mitch @psychicskulldamage when we became mutuals I squealed bc how much talent??

Jenna @ianrightsonly & Kay @goodkwuestion their fics changed me

Also, Benja @svltburn | Nosho | Vey @look-i-love-u Macy @heymacy Julissa @heymrspatel Jo @jomilky Harvey @mikhailoisbaby Georgia @iansw0rld Molly @deathclassic Stas @messedwithmandy Howl @howlinchickhowl Michelle @michellemisfit | Deanna | LJ @ofalltheginjoints Sam @sam-loves-seb Face @ burninface | Calli | AJ @ clingymickey Mills @gallavichsbitch Leah @whatwouldmickeydo

Also Jay!! You've left but gave me butterflies 🦋

Pls I kind hate this question! I've come to the conclusion I have a crush on you all OK?? 😭

This is why I make y'all Valentine's

First gallavich fan fic you read (or that blew you away that you remember)?

By the magnificent Kay The Increasingly Poor Decisions of Ian Gallagher!!! OH MY GOSH JUST THINKING ABOUT THIS FIC MAKES ME FEEL ELATED & FERAL!!! It's my favourite piece of written work & I need my non gallavich ppl to read it so I can scream into their faces how much I love it 🥰🩷🩷🩷

First fan art that blew your mind?

Seriously, Deena's gallacrafts & art always take my breath away!!! Like the artistry & creativity?? I wanna get to your level 🥰

It's three dimensional & has twinkling lights ✨️ I was astounded & my jaw literally dropped 😍

All of Alice's art especially my commissioned art 🩷

Also, Mitch's comic I stared at it forever like Ian's eyes reflecting Mick's booty 🍑👀

Fanfic trope that you were sure wasn't for you but now you low key (or high key) love?

I have read some pretty freaky & nasty fic bc of curiosity, so I nothing really gave me icks in tropes, but in writing style, I got turned around with Jen @wehangout with second person POV. You're so talented that I really enjoyed them when I would nope out before 😆

What surprised you most about this fandom?

Everything surprised me about this fandom bc it was my first one!! 😆 I didn't really know how to do tumblr & didn't really get how to interact. So I used tumblr like a sticker book, then came learning tags & so ppl reached out to me which helped me gain confidence haha

This is kinda a golden standard fandom. So welcoming, loving & encouraging!! If I ever dabble in another fandom, imma have a high standard bc I've been spoiled by y'all! ILY

Moment in the show (or YT vids if you're one of those) that you fell in hyperfixation with gallavich?

It was the "I'm fucking gay" scene to the "Guess what we've been doing daddy" The way he humps the car with all that conviction & screaming "he fucking loves it".

Everything clicked & I was like "Damn I love this fictional man." He is my favourite character of all time & this ship is my OTP & GOAT.

Also I love this edit too. It gives me chills

Ian or Mickey?

Mickey, but holy shit I love them both

Which gallagher or milkovich are you?

I took a page from @/guinguin1984 & did some quizzes & I got Fiona Ian Fiona Debbie not of them feel right ahaha

I guess Fiona bc I had her twice ����

Consider yourself tagged if I have a crush on you or mentioned you. Also tagging these sunshines & if you wanna do it too, have at it 💛🥰

@lingy910y @mickittotheman @doshiart @crossmydna @y0itsbri @7x10mickey @whatthebodygraspsnot @ms-moonlight-inn @mmmichyyy @sickness-health-all-that-shit @kiinard @transmickey @gallawitchxx @sleepyheadgallavich @rereadanon @whaticameherefor @darlingian @andthatisnotfake @ian-galagher @francesrose3

[michimonie]

If we continue the topic of Scrooge and his relationship with Daisy, who treats her with respect, he values her relationship with Donald. I remember the comics, I don't remember the title, but the point is, Scrooge think that Donald and Daisy broke up, and he was trying to fix it, but it turned out that he misunderstood, and in the end everything was fine. Anyway, I like the Donald and Daisy couple myself. When they are well written (however, like other characters) and there are a lot of such examples, except DT17 or Fantasia2000 they have so much potential, much wonderful chemistry and romance.

I definitely agree, I know in a lot of the comics (especially older ones) They can be a bit of a an old sitcom couple (not really great together). That being said, I'm still a bit of a Donald and Daisy shipper, if not at least for their loving moments, compatible qualities, and relatable troubles.

Also, that Scrooge story sounds really interesting! It's funny to imagine Scrooge McDuck as a shipper.

Scrooge McDuck holding Donald and Daisy dolls and saying "Now Kiss!"

I can't list a lot of comics examples (don't know a lot off the top of my head), but some of my personal favorite animated versions of them being together are Ducktales 2017,

Daisy: You killed my boyfriend! Donald, from the belly of the titan: Boyfriend? Oh boy! Oh boy! Oh boy!

a few old animated shorts (though they definitely lean towards the old questionable sitcom vibes a lot...),

and Mickey Shorts (hear me out).

Daisy: Just the two of us? Donald: You got it! Daisy: Oh, Donald. Just what the doctor ordered. Donald, on the phone: Mickey, Daisy and I can't make it tonight.

Donald: I'm sorry, Daisy! I blew it... Daisy: There's no need for an apology, Donald. After all, it is finally just to two of us.

As you mentioned, too, the Fantasia 2000 Noah's ark animation is really cute! I hadn't seen it in so long that I'd forgotten all about it.

Donald and Daisy look at photos of them both together, thinking the other is gone. At the end they are happily reunited.

Another good one is Dreamlight Valley:

Donald wants to do something nice for Daisy, and tries to go as big as he can, but then realizes he might need to dial it back a bit. Daisy mentions how he's amazing, but he needs to be kinder to himself.

While these two definitely can have their issues, it's really nice seeing them show why they're together and how much they care for each other.

If anyone else wants to add some of their favorite moments, feel free to do so!

...Also if anyone happens to know what the name of that comic is, I'd love to read shipper Scrooge, lol.

(Obligatory "I'm still somewhat new to Disney ducks so take my takes with a grain of salt")