#mickey writes fanfic

[teddybeartoji]

18+ mdni; male!reader

sun rays greet satoru's face as he stretches his whole body across your shared bed. there's a dopey smile on his face as he watches you pace around the bedroom, determined to find a specific shirt and his dick twitches at the sight of you bending over. the material of your boxers stretches so deliciously over your ass and it has satoru biting down onto his lip almost hard enough to draw blood.

he tried to keep you in bed you were so determined to start your day early and well, satoru isn't opposed to letting you think that you have a chance to escape him.

you're still looking for your shirt, talking about your plans, completely missing the shuffling sound the sheets as satoru crawls over the bed like some sort of a predator. his feet hit the floor and that's what gets your attention – spinning around, you're met with an overly sweet grin. he's up to something.

trying to take a step back, satoru's hands are quick to stop you; his slender fingers wrap around your wrist while the others dance on your lower back, pulling you flush to him.

"satoru..." you warn him and he gives you a playful 'hm?'.

eyes glued to his, you try to figure out what exactly is he up to but you don't have to think for long when you feel his boner rubbing against your own clothed dick. your eyes tear from his and flick down to where you're connected and the sight makes you gulp. satoru watches your adam's apple bob and he wastes no time in wriggling his hips just a bit, his grin widening when your breath hitches.

"feels good, heh?"

he uses you like his own personal plaything, pushing and pulling you against him with ease. all of your protests die down in your throat as you feel yourself hardening. there's a wet patch forming on satoru's boxers, pre-cum already ruining the material just from rubbing his cock against yours. but he's not ashamed, he never is – he's not afraid to show you how you make him feel. how hard you make him just by... being.

"y'look so handsome."

glaring at him through your eyelashes, he laughs. "what? i can't tell my boyfriend that he looks handsome anymore?" while his tone has a teasing lilt to it, you know his question is real.

"i– ahh... woke up like five minutes ago, i still have sleep in my eye."

a deep groan straight from the depths of satoru's tummy spills from his lips, his hands tugging at you closer against him. "hot."

heat spreads all over your body, from your chest to your neck and face, from your chest to your lower belly. satoru feels your dick twitch at his 'compliment' and his own does the same, so fucking excited to have this kind of an effect on you.

when you raise your hands, he's almost sure that you're about to try to push him away but he's pleasantly surprised to feel your fingers scratching at his undercut instead. "you're so– weird."

light-hearted laughter bubbles from satoru before he leans in to press a kiss to your jaw. "you love me."

his voice is all raspy and his touch burns in the best way possible and you're no better than him at this point – making a mess in your underwear just because of some heavy petting. it's not like he'd ever judge you though; satoru wants you both to let go and never hold back on your desires.

he sucks at your sensitive skin, right at your pulse point while still pushing and pulling you against him. pride blooms in his chest when a moan rips through your body – his hand has slipped under the waistband of your boxers and over your ass. he gives it a squeeze before pressing further, the tips of his fingers brushing over your asshole ever so gently.

you give his snowy roots a tug and it makes satoru groan into your skin. unable to keep your head up straight, you let it fall back, giving your boyfriend even more room to kiss and worship. his lips never leave you; he's determined to mark you as his with the prettiest heart-shaped hickeys. you'd scold him and tell him to stop but... you can't think clearly anymore.

his finger circles your hole and it has you arching your back; your hard nipples brush against his and the room fills with wanton moans coming from the both of you. everything he does to you feels so fucking good – he floods your senses with his scent, with his warmth, with his touch. you never even had a chance.

removing a hand from his hair, you can't help but smile idly at the sound of his whine. but you only take it away to place it on his chest instead. you paw at his skin, just above his heart and relish in the way his hips stutter against yours. the knot in your lower tummy tightens and your balls contract – tell-tale signs of your upcoming climax.

you want to be mad at him, scream and yell, tell him off because he manages to make you cum in record time every time he tries something new. you want to enjoy it, you'd like to take your time but no, he's over here rocking your world by just... grinding against you and giving you hickies like some teenager. you can't believe it.

but you can't let him have all the fun now, can you? so, you take the hand on his chest and move it over to his pec and give it a squeeze before thumbing at his nipple. satoru's whole body twitches at the light touch, his lips parting with your neck for a mere second. he tilts his head to catch your gaze and he doesn't regret it – he's met with a sick smile, one that's an exact match to the one he's wearing right now.

the corners of his eyes crinkle and his dimples say hi; beautiful blue orbs filled with love and adoration stare into yours as he gnaws on his bottom lip. your heart races in your chest and your whole body feels like it's on fire – you lean in at the same time and you collide in a fiery kiss.

sun peeks through the curtains behind you, warming you and satoru as you try to eat each others faces. he sucks on your tongue and you play with his nipple, you suck on his and he presses his finger against your sensitive hole. your cocks rub together and your pre-cum starts to mix as it seeps through the material of both of your boxers.

somewhere in the background your phone dings but neither of you hear it. satoru's kisses turn more hungry by the second, his hands more desperate as he pulls you towards him again and again. he isn't even letting you catch your breath, your chest now heaving as you near your orgasm. the friction between you two feels godly – it's the complete lack of shame; the way he's just always ready to make you feel good in every possible way known to mankind. dry humping you while standing up, dropping to his knees to eat your ass the second you come home, sucking you off when you're mad at the world – he's here for you.

he nibbles at your lip and you groan into his mouth. satoru's knows you're close because.. he's close, too. you're now just grinding your clothed dicks against each other, melting into yourselves as raspy whines and moans fall from your mouths. you're there, you're almost fucking there. you squirm in his hold, eyes screwed shut as satoru pushes the tip of his index finger into your ass—

knock! knock! knock!

still hazy from the pleasure, you try to pull away from satoru, leaving him chasing after your lips as he keeps humping you. while desperately trying to focus on whether somebody is actually behind your door or you're officially losing your mind, you spot your phone on the bed over satoru's shoulder. and then you remember.

suguru!

that's why you got out of bed early in the first place, that's why you said no to your usual morning shenanigans with satoru. your eyes widen and your whole being hurts as your orgasm begins to fade.

satoru has yet to come out of his, his eyes still closed as he blindly mouths at your chin. a strong shove against his shoulder helps with it but now he looks like a kicked puppy, sad and beaten because you're not returning his affections.

"suguru."

his brows furrow faster than ever. "excuse me?"

"behind the door."

"are you having a stroke right now, baby?" his face relaxes, his eyes closing in slow motion, one slower than the other. "c'mon, kiss me some more, hm?"

pinching his nipple a little harder than he'd like, your boyfriend squeals with wide eyes. "what, what?!"

"suguru was coming over, remember? and now he's here and neither of us are ready?!" you reprimand him through gritted teeth. another spurt of pre-cum leaks through your boxers and your eye twitches as the sensation. this is hurting you as much as him but you can't just let suguru wait for you. it's rude.

"so?"

now it's your time to stare at him with big eyes. "so?! that's our friend that we invited over, we're not gonna let him just fucking stand behind the door because you're horny, satoru."

his eyelashes flutter as his gaze drops to your rock hard cock pressed against his own.

"that's irrelevant."

and with a final shove, you push yourself away from your pouty boyfriend and rush to find some proper clothes. satoru laughs to himself when you harshly-not-so-harshly tell him him to get rid of his boner and to wash his hands, to which he only responds with the words 'i love you' in a singsong voice.

satoru knows that suguru knows, that's why he hasn't bothered to knock again in the first place. how does satoru know it? before climbing out of the bed to play around with you, he sent suguru a text message saying that he has to 'rub one out'. and knowing how suguru feels about you... oh, satoru can't wait for his best friend to see your disheveled hair and the fresh hickeys on your neck.

maybe he'll finally get suguru to join you two? especially knowing that neither of you or him actually got off in the first place, your ruined orgasms now settling deep in your lower stomach. satoru feels proud over his weird little matchmaking play, but c'mon – nobody can blame him for wanting his beloved and his best friend fuck, right? he just wants to see the two people he loves the most have fun and feel good, he has no problem sitting back and just enjoying the show you'll surely put on for him.

he feels giddy.

and in love.

[sgtmickeyslaughter]

Toothache

The misadventures of Ian Gallagher, boy vampire.

(Happy Halloween everyone! Click title for a03 link!)

[dimlylittorch]

i need to write consistently but silco is taking over my brain.

18+ drabble MDNI

My Masterlist🌱

Silco x transmasc!reader

this man.. this man yall. he humiliates you in the best way.

A part of being Silco’s favorite little thing is always being ready to help him relax. I’m talking quickies in alleyways, sucking his dick in closets- whatever this man needs. Time is money, he doesn’t have all day yknow.

One of the most humiliating stunts he’s pulled.. lord. This man definitely used you as a distraction tool. If Marcus is being difficult he has him sent to his office where he walks in and sees you lying on your stomach over his desk. You can hear his gasp of surprise, making you clench around Silco’s cock which was currently buried inside of you. A guard makes him enter the room and Silco tells him to sit down.

Marcus being forced to sit in a chair that’s right by your head, but you keep your gaze averted, hoping he can’t see your face. How embarrassing. Silco decided to keep talking business as usual, a smirk on his lips. Whenever he makes a point about control to Marcus, he rolls his hips against that spongy spot inside of you making you cry out weakly, quickly trying to cover your mouth. When you glance down you can see Marcus is hard, making your face flush even more.

“You see Marcus.. I like to keep my toys close.” Silco smirks, leaning over you and grabbing your chin, forcing you to look up at Marcus. “This little one, for example?” He chuckles as he rolls his hips into you again. “He’s a good boy. And good boy’s get rewarded, hm? Now why don’t you be a good little Enforcer and listen.” Silco purrs into your ear, but you know it’s directed at Marcus.

“I get your point.” Marcus mutters, meeting your eyes for only a moment before looking back up at Silco. To Marcus it may look like you’re being used- but you and Silco both know you enjoy yourself like this. Contrary to popular belief, he does believe in aftercare. Marcus and Silco continue their meeting, Silco standing with his hips against your ass the whole time. If you squirmed at all he’d pull out and push back in, weak whimpers falling from your lips. If you’re too loud he smacks your ass harshly, the sound making Marcus flinch ever so slightly.

Post meeting Marcus leaves the room and you’re left trembling over his desk, ass red as fat tears spilling down your cheeks. Silco leans over you with soft words, gently rubbing your back to comfort you. He snaps his fingers and Sevika walks in with a blanket and towel, dropping it on his desk with a huff. “Beautiful, isn’t he?” Silco muses when he sees Sevika glancing over the state of you.

“He does what he’s supposed to. Marcus agreed to comply.” Sevika mutters before leaving the room.

Silco lets out a faint sigh of relief and pulls you up, slipping out of you and pulling you into his lap on his chair. “Did you hear that?” He says softly against the shell of your ear as he holds you close, grabbing the towel and setting it on his lap under you. “You did such a good job.. making that stupid man so flustered he’s going to behave” he chuckles softly.

struggling to focus for my other writings, i’m trying to work on making them longer! hopefully i’ll have more posted soon. requests are always open!

[madaqueue]

gn!reader - 18+ MDNI (lots of hand-mouth fuckery)

some are born performers, made to be perceived, intrinsically commanding attention. everything about sukuna drew the spotlight, every pair of eyes landing on him another step he took higher in his ever-ascending ego.

so it came as no surprise that he adored when you watched him pleasure himself.

he knew his own body well, an intimate understanding of exactly where to touch, grab, pinch, bite. every place his fingertips grazed was purposeful, a slow, tantalizing path closer and closer and closer.

when the flesh of his palms opens to reveal sticky, drooling tongues, he guides them with ease along his skin, tracing the deep lines of his tattoos, following their paths down between his legs.

a gentle lick to the tip of his twitching cock.

lips wrapped around his heavy balls.

before you can believe it, saliva coats his skin, mixing with the precum rolling down his length, reflecting in the low light of his bedroom.

candlelight glimmers behind your eyes, traveling over the contours of his chest, unable to stray from his movements. he hadn’t even touched you, and yet you found yourself panting, skin burning hot.

his own gaze is locked on your face, the utter awe behind it. through a smirk, he lets out a low grunt - and you, you can’t help but whimper at the sound (just the reaction he was hoping for).

you don’t even need him to touch you anymore - you need to touch him.

against your better judgement, your arm extends towards him; it’s not even hesitant, you know what you need, it feels foolish to deny it when he’s right here, within arm’s reach-

but sukuna can’t let you interrupt the show. he immediately smacks you away with one of his free hands, silently scolding you, as if you should know better.

(and you do - but you just couldn’t help yourself. it’s not even your fault, not really - not when he looks so fucking ethereal, shadows dancing along the flexing muscles of his arms as they circle his cocks, abs tensing with each purposeful motion of the tongues writhing from his palms)

by now, there’s drool pooling along the corner of your own lips. sukuna is quick to point out just how ravished you already seem with a chuckle. “enjoying the show?” his low voice easily fills the space, as though he was the only thing you’ve ever heard, the only thing you’ll ever need to hear again.

your mouth is dry as you nod. within the kimono draped over your hips, you futilely attempt to adjust your position to quell the ache growing inside you, legs rubbing together as you shift along the comforter.

maroon eyes flit below your waist - perhaps the sign of your arousal was more visible under the dim light than you anticipated (or perhaps he can simply read the eagerness on your face).

he sighs through a sly grin. a free hand reaches to your place on the bed, before a sudden wetness licks up your inner thigh. you shudder in expectation as he purrs, “but what’s a show without its audience, after all?”

[sisitrip]

Future Whispers

My little crispy soul is trying to knit itself back together. I'm choosing to do that with an early Gallavich stolen moment.

_________________________

Ian smiled in the dark as Mickey swatted his hand away from the bathroom lightswitch. 

“That’s not like you,” he murmured. “You usually want to see everything.”

A warm press of air was the only warning he got before Mickey kissed him, soft and deliberate. Astounded, he stilled, afraid to breathe. It was still so new, this kissing, and like new things, it was precious. 

“Easy,” Mickey whispered when he finally remembered to breathe. “There’s no part of you that I don’t want to see when we’re doing that.” Mickey gave him another soft, astonishing kiss. “But, right now, I’m after less, especially with your family down there doing the most.” 

A high pitched squeal rang out from downstairs, punctuating Mickey’s point. 

He laughed, letting Mickey drag him to the toilet and push him to sit on its closed lid. Before he could blindly reach out for Mickey, his lap filled with his warm, heaven scented weight. 

“So, what’s “less” to Mickey Milkovich? I didn’t think you knew how to do less,” he whispered around another kiss, sliding his hands up and down Mickey’s thighs. Emboldened by the dark, he rounded his hands to Mickey’s ass and got a nip to his bottom lip for his roaming.

“I don’t do less. But, I’m settling for this until everybody knocks out,” Mickey whispered back, slipping a bit of tongue between his lips.  

He nearly lost track of the conversation as their kisses grew longer, more heated. 

“I’ll try not to take your ‘settling’ personally,” he breathed.

“Relax, it’s not like that. I'm just trying this mouth-pressing thing again.”

“Mouth-pressing?” he laughed against Mickey’s lips. “God, you’re so romantic.”

“That's what it is, ain’t it? Just two sets of lips pressing together in a sloppy way.” Mickey pulled his lower lip into his mouth and gave it an exquisite nip. “Be glad I didn’t call it tongue stacking.” 

“If you don’t stop describing it so beautifully, I think I'm going to cry,” he said, chasing after Mickey’s tongue with his own.

Mickey chuckled and leaned back. 

“I’m just calling it like I see it. Anyway, I’m still deciding if I hate this whole mouth-pressing thing. No wait. Yeah. I hate it.” Mickey immediately dove in for another tongue-filled kiss.

“Oh, that much is clear.” He pulled Mickey closer, hardening beneath him. “You definitely despise kissing.”

“Absolutely disgusts me,” Mickey said, tilting his head so he could kiss at a better angle.

He smiled into the next kiss.

“Then we should just end this horrible kissing and do something else.” He tried to pull Mickey’s shirt out of his pants. “I've been thinking all night how much I want to feel you come on my stomach while you ride me.”

Mickey stopped his roaming hands and buried his hot face in his neck. Despite the sheer number of times he’s been inside Mickey, the little mouth-pressing hater was still shy about dirty talk. He didn’t have ‘bashful thug’ on his dating Bingo card, but he was here for it.

“Gallagher, if people knew that Disney looking mouth of yours was all Pornhub, your stock would tank.” 

He lifted Mickey’s head by the chin and kissed him. 

“I’m devastated. I thought my mouth was your favorite thing about me,” he murmured, stealing tiny kisses. 

“Tied for first. If you ask me what it’s tied with, I’m braining you.”

They kissed languidly for a bit, heat banking just enough to kick his thoughts toward things beyond kissing. Future related things he’s been wanting from Mickey for a while now. His mouth, clearly not occupied enough, decided to start trouble. 

“What are you going to do when I’m like, 60 years old and my mouth-pressing game isn’t as strong?” he asked, going for Mickey’s chin with a kiss and landing on his nose.

There’s a beat of quiet. He expected Mickey to change the subject, like he did with all future talk. But, instead, he got no such brush off, as miraculous as that was. 

“I mean, your mouth-pressing game ain’t that strong now.”

He snorted. 

“But, if you’re asking for 60 year old Ian,” Mickey teased, kissing his cheek. “I think I might tolerate a lower level of mouth-pressing. But, let the record reflect that everything else has to stay above board.”

“Yeah? Everything else like what?” he asked, heart thudding a little at Mickey envisioning the future with him. 

“That arms and legs wrapping thing we do before sleep.”

“Cuddling?” 

“Yeah. That shit better not slack off.”

He beamed in the dark. “Noted. What else?” 

“Hugs from behind. They remain fully operational or I’m out.”

He huffed a soft laugh. 

“Of course. Anything else?”

Mickey’s quiet for a long time, stroking his hands up and down his chest. 

“You being the first thing I see when I wake up,” Mickey whispered. “And the last thing I see before I go to sleep.”

He said nothing, but his eyes got entirely too hot. Like a bat using echolocation, Mickey knew he was teetering on tears, even in the dark. 

“Keep it together, Gallagher.”

His emotional laugh confirmed Mickey’s suspicions and he was rewarded with a kiss to his forehead. 

“Is that-” He stopped and cleared his throat. “Is that all?”

“No.” 

“What then?” 

Mickey scooted until they were belly to belly and hugged him tight, like he needed support. When he spoke, his voice was vulnerable and rough with emotion. 

“Keep being happy to see me. Keep … keep wanting me to be around.” 

He wrapped Mickey up, heart splintering. It wasn’t Mickey’s soft plea that broke him. It’s the idea that one day he’s going to stop wanting him close, as if that was remotely possible. He’d tried keeping his distance and it had been like watching color violently drain out of the world. 

“That’ll never slack off, you hear me?” He squeezed Mickey tighter, meaning it to his marrow. “Never.”

Mickey didn’t say anything. He only pressed closer. 

He held Mickey in the dark for a while, listening to his family’s ruckus downstairs. Unbidden, the thought of being a husband, Mickey’s husband, bloomed into his mind for the first time. He smiled into Mickey's shoulder, frightened and excited by the thought. Husband.

Mickey pressed a sweet kiss into his neck and hugged him tighter, clearly thinking about some things himself. He decided to let them both off the hook. For now.

“So, my fingers must be tied for first with my tongue-stacking, right?” he asked, bouncing Mickey a little on his lap. 

Mickey snorted. “First off, it’s mouth-pressing. Second, your fingers are okay, but not first place material.” 

“My legs then.” 

“Those chicken sticks? Hell no.” 

He started giggling. 

“My eyes. You’re always saying how green and alien looking they are. You like that weird shit.” 

Mickey pulled back. “I do, but they’re second place. You know, I could just tell you instead of you guessing, Ian.” 

“If you say anything but my dick, I’m tossing you in the bathtub.” 

Mickey held his face in his hands. 

“How could it be anything but that? Your beef bus is insane.” 

He broke down laughing, pulling Mickey into another kiss. 

“My mouth-pressing and beef bus thank you for the compliment.” He grabbed Mickey’s belt. “You feel like taking that bus for a ride?” 

Mickey groaned and gave his cheek a tap. 

“I don’t know how you live being that corny. And the answer is no. I ain’t skeeting with your little brothers and sister downstairs.” 

“How about some more mouth-pressing instead? Just to make sure you really hate it.” 

Mickey sighed. “Alright, get that Disney mouth ready. Maybe by the time you’re 60, you’ll be better at this whole mouth-pressing nonsense.” 

That earned Mickey some tickling and his whispered giggles made the dark bathroom magical. He liked Mickey whispering about their future. He liked that Mickey thought about it at all. If they somehow manage to make it, he’ll remember this as the place where their lives started to take root and shape. 

On a bevy of future whispers in the dark.

[you-show-me-love]

"What's your favorite part of me? Like physically." Ian asked Mickey one night as they lay in bed, feeling soft as they await sleep.

He doesn't know why he asked, really, feels like he already knows the answer. Its his cock probably, the thing that brings Mickey the most pleasure, the thing reeled him in and kept him on the line.

Mickey turned over to face him, eyes moving across his boyfriend's face before glancing just above it. Ian watches his lips twitch upward.

"Gotta thing for redheads." Mickey admits, wrapping his hand around the back of Ian's head, running his fingers through the copper strands.

"Oh." Is all he manages to get out. He's stunned to be wrong in the best way. With his hand still on the back of Ian's head, Mickey pulls him in for a sleepy kiss before turning over. Ian moved right behind him, holding him tightly from behind. Mickey's arm reaches behind him to cradle the back of Ian's head again.

[senawashere]

Starting off to say, thank you for all the TGM and particularly Mickey Garcia content you are a heaven's sent for that! And I hope you are doing good.

I hope I'm correct to see your requests are open? And I was wondering if I could request a soft Fanboy x wife!reader. It can be literally about anything you want. Cause I would adore any kind of that!

Thank you so much for your time and fics lovely!

Hushed Affections.

Summary: Sleepy and tired.

A/N: It took me so long sorry😭

Warnings: Pure fluff,nudity(not sexual),kissing!!

Your eyes closed, you wrapped your arms around his torso, letting the warm water relax you as the gentle beat of his heart and his calm breathing soothed your body.

“Someone looks pretty tired too,” Mickey mumbled, his voice slow and calm even above you. “I think it’s time to get out of the shower.”

“Not as tired as you,” you were right, that much was understandable just by looking at him. “But yeah, we can just go to bed.” Your arms were over his as you looked into his tired eyes,his under eyes were bit dark. He was hot, but covered in a few drops of water, it was even hotter.

His hand brushed against your waist with a weak touch as you pulled the towel closer to you. Feeling his surroundings in slow motion, he did the same, smiling weakly, standing next to you as he watched you dry your body; the intimacy of the moment made him feel special to have you, and he knew it really was.

“Stop looking at me and change,you pervert!” You said in a high-pitched voice that made him laugh lazily. “Come on,husband, you need some sleep.” You added that you were ready to rest next to him after putting on your panties.

Wrapping his hair in a towel, you waited for him to put on his underwear, forcing him to do the same so that the hotel bathroom room wouldn’t get splashed with water. Still sleepy, he laid back on the soft bed and let out a pleasant groan.

“I got my hair dryer with me,” you mumbled, sitting down next to him, removing the towel from his hair, and plugging the dryer into the outlet next to the bed. You didn’t even need to bring the object, you were only going to spend a day with him there, but you knew Mickey would probably need it; his mood was always better in the morning, when his hair was good curly and free of sweat.

“You don’t have to,” he sighed so tiredly that he couldn’t keep his eyes open for you.

“It’s okay, I want to, I even got you some curl cream and moisturizer.” You sat down neatly next to him, actually on top of him, right on his lap, letting him know you were serious about taking good care of him by tapping your fingers on the bottles in your hands.

“I love you, baby,” he grumbled.

“I know,” you replied, awkwardly but effectively parting his hair to make it look presentable for tomorrow morning. You ran your hand through his curly hair, helping the dryer do its job, and then you brought your fingertips to his hairline, pressing down as you focused on giving him a good rub. With a deep, low sigh, you felt his body relax beneath you.

“That’s good,” he said at your touch, melting as he felt special locks being pulled between your fingers; his favorite thing to do was being played with his hair. “That’s too good.”

You dried his hair and played with it; it would be beautiful in the morning.

His baby skin was clearly visible now, kissable. “Baby,this is so amazing.”

‘“Stop talking, you need to focus on sleeping!”

“Huh, I can’t sleep because I want to fall asleep with you,” his words were muffled by your pillow, his mind seemed to dissolve in your hands. As you released his curls, he took your hand in his, kissing your skin and you continued, “Don’t get me wrong, but I would enjoy it even though I like you on top of me,” you chuckled. It warmed your heart to see him smile too; he showed off his beautiful teeth for you.

“Good,” you let your body fall to his side, one of your legs still wrapped around him as you pressed a kiss to his nose. “But just your eyes for now, please!” he grumbled, wrapping it around your waist as he waited for you to grab the moisturizer and run it over his eyes; your fingers were soft and warm against his skin, which resulted in the desire to touch you being louder than usual in his mind, pulling you closer to his body. “Okay, I’m done.”

“Finally,” his face fit into your chest; his hair brushed against your bare skin as you shifted to hold him tighter.

A stupid, lazy smile formed on his lips, his arms wrapping around you completely, feeling his warm breath coming out of his mouth and his touch. It was strange how being able to see him with your own eyes, and not just facetime or call, but seeing that he was okay, left you feeling so relaxed and at peace of mind.

“Stop looking at me, you creepy,” he mumbled, only then realizing he was actually looking at you. “Go to sleep, baby, you need some rest too.”

Still in a trance, you kissed his head and nodded, “sure, but only because I’ll be here all day tomorrow looking at you.” You added, thinking of his chuckle as your last moment before falling asleep that night.

“Good night my love.”

Squeek🥹 Thank you anon for this amazing idea!! Sending love🫶🏻

This is for you honey @eternalsams !!

I'm tagging people who might be interested: @ohtobeleah @sebsxphia @callsign-fox @greenorangevioletgrass @roosterforme @teacupsandtopgun @floydsglasses @lyn-js @its-dee-lovely @its-the-pilot @friedchips94 @hardballoonlove @topguncortez @bradshawsbaddie @shanimallina87 @djs8891 @themusingofagothicsoul @promisingyounglady @the-romanian-is-bae @mamachasesmayhem @jessicab1991 @iefitzgerald-blog @charcole-grey @waterriseslew @desert-fern @eternalsams @callsigns-haze @promisingyounglady @els-marvelvsp @cevansbaby-dove @atarmychick007 if you are not comfortable please tell me!!

[ohkate]

Mine

A great prompt from @jrooc for this week's @galladrabbles. Hope you enjoy! Word Count: 100

------

"What-the-fuck, Mickey…"

Ian walked into the kitchen, hungover and groggy. Mickey smirked.

"That's what you get. I practically had to carry your drunk ass in."

Ian pulled up his t-shirt and pointed to the arrow pointing to his crotch with the word 'Mine' in thick black marker.

"It's permanent marker, Mickey! I need fucking paint thinner to get it off."

"Yeah, well…that bar-twink didn't seem to mind that you were married. Wanted to make sure my little Drunky Brewster knew he wasn't goin' home with anybody but me."

"Mickey!"

"Just be happy I didn't draw a dick on your face."

[sluttygallavich]

Ian spits on mickeys hole and they both enjoy it 🤝

The first time it happens, it’s out of pure necessity.

They’ve just chased each other across half of South Side and up six flights of crumbling stairs, blood pumping and hearts racing. By the time they get to the mattress they have set up behind a half-collapsed wall near Ian’s makeshift training course they’re both practically out of their minds and completely desperate for it.

“Get the shit, Gallagher.”

Mickey already has his jeans pulled down to his knees and is looking back over his shoulder at him expectantly when the crushing realization hits.

Shit.

Mickey’s eyebrows furrow at Ian’s stricken expression. “The fuck, Gallagher. You didn’t come prepared?”

And no, actually, he hadn’t come prepared for Mickey to materialize in the middle of a busy street and crash his…whatever with Ned, and he sure as fuck hadn’t been planning on letting things with Ned go any further than a couple of drinks and maybe a hurried hand job if the old guy was really insistent. So no, he is in no way prepared for the situation he finds himself in now—ass naked but for his socks and rock hard, with his sorta boyfr– with Mickey’s perfect pale cheeks just begging to be spread.

He huffs, cheeks pinkening under Mickey’s accusatory stare.

“Get on your back, I’ll blow you instead.” Ian tries not to let on how disappointed he is, even as he suggests it, but it doesn’t seem to matter because Mickey makes no move to roll over. Instead, he bites at his bottom lip, considering.

“You gonna keep sticking it in that geriatric pedo?” he asks finally, voice gruff but eyes darting around, betraying his nerves.

And Ian’s first instinct is to roll his eyes and protest at that, but, well… yeah, okay.

His second instinct is to turn the question around and ask if Mickey’s going to keep sticking it in Angie Zago or whatever other neighbourhood slut is willing, but, well…

This is Mickey sort of trying, isn’t it? This is missed ya under the bleachers, and this is helping Ian train for West Point nearly every day since he’s been back, and this is the mattress that ���fell off the back of a truck” after Ian complained about the concrete floor fucking up his knees. This is following him today and beating the shit out of that geriatric pedo in the middle of the street because he was jealous but couldn’t just say it.

This is Mickey staking a claim, maybe.

“No,” Ian answers, heart racing at what he thinks might be happening—what he thinks Mickey might be proposing. And he wasn’t going to ask, but as he shuffles closer on the mattress, he finds that he just needs to know. He needs to hear it too. “Are you?”

Mickey snorts, turning his head back around so Ian can no longer see his face.

“Am I gonna stick my dick in that grandpa’s wrinkly old ass? Nah man, you don’t gotta worry about that.”

Ian reaches out then, just a single hand brushing lightly at Mickey’s hip, and he realizes it’s the first time they’ve touched since rushing up here, too frantic earlier to do anything but tear at their own clothes.

“Mick…”

And he must hear something in Ian’s voice then, because when Mickey speaks again the derisiveness of a moment before is gone. He just sounds desperate again. Pleading, even.

“C’mon, Ian, just get in me.”

And it’s not exactly an answer, is it? But it’s Ian instead of Gallagher, and it’s the vulnerability he can feel rolling off Mickey in this moment, and it’s trust, really. And Ian finds that’s good enough for now.

He grips Mickey’s ass with both hands and relishes in the heavy exhale it pulls from him, almost like Mickey had been holding his breath. Like relief. And Ian feels it too. So strongly he’s almost faint with it. He spreads Mickey wide and pets at his hole with his thumb, mouth falling open as he watches it flutter and try to pull him in.

“Fuck, Mick,” he groans. He feels even more wild than he did a few minutes ago. “Still don’t have any lube though.”

Mickey’s head drops down between his shoulders as Ian presses just the tip of his thumb inside him, dry.

“Just spit on it, Gallagher, Jesus.”

And Ian feels like he’s been kicked in the back, all the air rushing out of his lungs at once.

“Are– are you sure?”

“Holy fuck, yes, yes, I’m sure,” Mickey huffs. “You need to see it in fuckin’ writing or what?”

Ian doesn’t react to that, too used to Mickey’s impatience and bluster for it to faze him anymore and still far too preoccupied with Mickey’s clenching hole and the prospect of covering it in his spit, which suddenly seems like the hottest thing he’s ever considered.

Mickey’s spit-slicked hole and Ian’s bare cock sinking into it. Fuck. He prays he lasts longer than two sad pumps.

He knees at Mickey’s legs and gets him to spread them wider, running his nails up Mickey’s back before forcing his upper body down to the mattress, leaving just Mickey’s ass sticking up in the air for Ian to do with as he pleases. He gathers as much saliva in his mouth as he can and leans closer, spreading Mickey’s cheeks again and spitting directly on his puckered rim, the sound loud and obscene in the quiet of the abandoned rubble.

“Oh fuck…” Ian whispers, immediately dragging his thumb through the warm spit and pushing into Mickey’s hole. “Oh fuck, Mick.”

Mickey just groans, pushing back against Ian’s hands, encouraging more.

Ian spits again, this time slowly pushing two fingers into Mickey’s heat, just to the first knuckles, just to see, but Mickey’s demand for more has him quickly pushing in the rest of the way, stretching and fucking him open until his hole is gaping, just a little, and fuck, what if he spit right inside of him?

He chokes off a moan at the thought and continues getting Mickey prepped, but once the idea has been raised in his mind it latches on and he can’t let it go.

Mickey’s pushing back against his fingers, three buried instead him now. “C’mon, Gallagher, while we’re still young,” he grouses, though the effect is somewhat lessened by how fucked out he sounds.

Ian reaches a hand around Mickey’s compact body and presents it palm up and slightly cupped in front of Mickey’s face.

“You too,” Ian manages to get out. “Spit.”

Mickey attempts a laugh, but now that Ian’s nailing his prostate with every other thrust of his fingers it sounds more like it’s been punched out him.

“You’re a freak, Gallagher.” But he doesn’t hesitate to do as he’s told, and now Ian’s using Mickey’s spit to slick up his own cock and shit, maybe he won’t even make it to two sad pumps.

He squeezes at the head of his cock, clear beads gathering at the tip, and Ian’s usually pretty impressive self-control immediately snaps. He pulls his fingers out of Mickey’s ass and spits directly into his empty hole. Mickey lets out a breathy “Fuck,”and it’s all somehow even hotter than Ian was just imagining.

“Ready?” he can’t help but ask, dragging his throbbing cock through the mess he’s made, his own precum only adding to the wet slick. He half expects another snarky response, and when he doesn’t get one, he knows Mickey is just as a far gone as he is.

“Yeah, ready, yes,” Mickey babbles. “Fuck yes…”

Ian keeps a steady grip on Mickey’s hip, his other hand slowly guiding himself inside, and shit it’s tight. And hot. It’s hot and tight and so, so much that Ian swears his vision darkens at the edges a little bit. He remembers then to breathe at the same time that Mickey moans—moans! Mickey never moans!—and tries to press back against him. There’s more resistance than Ian’s used to, but the feeling of being inside Mickey with nothing between them more than makes up for the lack of lube.

Ian can’t look away from where they’re connected, skin to skin. He’s practically panting like a dog, his tongue feeling parched and dry, but he gathers as much saliva as he can and spits one last time, watching it pool around where his shaft disappears into the tight ring of Mickey’s hole before pressing the rest of the way in.

“Shit, Gallagher, need you to move.”

Ian’s let himself slump forward across Mickey’s back, his forehead pressing between his shoulder blades.

“Need…a minute,” he breathes into Mickey’s skin, eyes squeezed shut. “Jesus Mick, you feel so fucking tight. Not gonna last.”

Never one to be kept waiting, Mickey starts up a slow roll of his hips. “Don’t worry, Firecrotch,” he says, rocking back and forth on Ian’s cock. “Ain’t gonna last either. Better make the next thirty seconds count.”

Ian huffs out a laugh and pushes himself up off Mickey’s back so he can piston into the older boy the way he knows he likes. His belly swoops at the way his bare cock looks drilling into Mickey, and truthfully, it’s not much more than a minute or two later when he feels that familiar tingling in his balls that lets him know he’s about to bust. And shit, he hasn’t really thought this far ahead. Should he pull out? Is Mickey going to let him—

“Oh fuck. Mick, I’m gonna– Shit, I’m–” He’s the one babbling now. He feels panicked, knowing the clock is quickly running down. Finally, he manages a complete thought. “Mickey, where should I come?”

Mickey is working his own cock furiously in his fist, his breathing labored around his moans. Ian’s never heard him be this vocal. His balls are drawing up at the sound of Mickey’s pleasure, but still Mickey hasn’t given him an answer.

“Mick, please…oh god, oh fuck…where should I–”

“Come inside me.”

“Oh god…”

Ian only hears a ringing in his ears after that. Without thinking he wraps his arms around Mickey’s torso and hauls him up so that his back is pressed firm against Ian’s chest. He holds him tight and buries his face in Mickey’s neck as his release crashes through him, lighting up every inch of his skin that’s connected to Mickey’s, that’s in Mickey.

Dimly he’s aware of Mickey crying out and shuddering around him, his head tipping back to rest against Ian’s, and he’s struck, suddenly, by the intimacy of it all—they’ve never been closer, he thinks—before they’re both pitching forward and collapsing together, Ian slipping from Mickey’s body as they come to settle next to each other on their sides.

They’re both quiet, save for their ragged breathing, as they slowly come down from their highs. Mickey’s shirt is still on, but Ian watches his back rise and fall, admires the faint freckles on his exposed shoulder, follows a bead of sweat meandering down Mickey’s neck from his hairline and has to restrain himself from licking the rivulet it leaves in its wake.

Eventually his gaze drifts lower, and despite coming harder than he ever has in his life less than two minutes ago, he’s hit with an intense wave of emotion—arousal, definitely, but something else too—that has his dick twitching and his pulse kicking right back up. It’s a mess of cum and sweat and spit, and it should be gross, maybe, but all Ian can think is that it’s them. He closes his eyes and smiles.

The first time it happens, it’s the start of something new.

[ottersmommie1980]

Collide

Ian touched his lips, Mickey kissed him.

Their first kiss, was he really listening to him?

Ian started to plot right there; their second kiss would be just as memorable.

Maybe lost in that thought was how Mickey ended up shot in the ass.

Later that night, Mickey was laying on his stomach, Ian on his side so they were face to face.

“You done with the geriatric fucker?”

Ian nodded licking his lips,

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Ian took a breath and leaned in, his hand resting on the back of Mick’s neck.

Mick’s hand gripping Ian’s shirt.

Then they collide.

Another @galladrabbles before I clean the apartment!

[avalonia320]

Just a Boy

Going the opposite way from what I wrote last week. I loved the poem prompt @gallafics submitted and while this drabble doesn't incorporate it directly, I interpreted it as a gift of words for the one you love. So here is my take on this week's @galladrabbles prompt.

***

“...to love and to cherish you, til death do us part.” Ian finished, blinking back the moisture in his eyes.

The officiant nodded at Mickey. 

“OK, wait a second,” Mickey reached into his front pocket and pulled out a wrinkled, folded piece of paper. “Just got a couple of things I want to say first,” he cleared his throat.

“What -” Ian’s heart started to pound. “You wrote your own vows? We didn’t say we were...I mean, I didn’t - I would have -”

Mickey grinned. “Yeah, that’s the point, Gallagher. You always say all the sappy shit. Now it’s my turn.” 

[teddybeartoji]

彡 GUARDIANS OF THE TINY SEA URCHIN BOY

☆. contains: satoru gojo x gn!reader; fluff!!!, non-curse au, idk what this timeline is but both reader and satoru are adults and gumi is tiny + reader is his kindergarten teacher wc: 3k

you love you job.

you love taking care of the kids, teaching them, caring for them. and that of course applies for megumi, too. he's a pretty quiet kid, very straightforward and doesn't seem too affected by his guardian being away on a work trip when you ask him about it. you've never met the guy but it always makes you snicker whenever megumi's nose scrunches when he's brought up. or the little pout that tugs on his lips – the grumpiest and the fakest one to ever be conjured in the history of the world. you know it's fake; you've seen the care and devotion the little boy puts into the cards and the art he makes, always promising to show them to his keeper in a hushed voice.

but then one day... he's a quieter than usual, stares at you a little more than usual (he's so sure you don't see him)(or the way he's fiddling with the hem of his shirt). it's playtime and you're comfortably sitting in a bean bag, laughing with some other kids, eyeing the little sea urchin from the corner of your eye. after giving the other kids an impossible mission to complete outside, you usher the boy closer.

"gumi, come here."

and he does the cutest little eye roll known to mankind but nevertheless makes his way over to you. not pressuring him, you let him stand while you ask about the new comic book that came out (you heard him mention it once or twice) and oh, how his eyes widen. you surpress a giggle at the boy, and when you see his eyes flick between you and the bean bag you're sitting on, you finally motion for him to take a seat next to you. and he does.

he still feels a little unsure; like he wants to keep the information threathing to spill inside, despite the want to tell you all about it. seeing this, you decide to start talking about your own little hobby, doing big gestures as to try and crack a smile (it works)(he tries to hide it but you know better). and in the end he does relax and subconciously leans toward you when he starts introducing the comic.

digging out your phone, you let him show you the characters, the powers they have and how cool they all are. the smile on your face is making your cheeks hurt; glad that the boy feels secure and safe around you to tell you all this. some other kids bump in a few times, showing you the worms they dug up or beg for a napkin to wipe their face after they sneezed so hard that snot flew out. megumi's little scrunched up face only made you laugh more.

after a while you can feel him melt into you, his talk almost slurring, his eyes growing heavy. deciding to put away the phone, you move in your spot but a pair of hands clutch onto your arm. "'m not going anywhere." you assure him with a gentle smile as your hand finds its way into his hair, pushing through the unruly strands. he doesn't look at you, hiding his face into your shoulder.

"if i tell you something, do you promise you won't tell anyone?"

it's a ghost of a whisper, buried into the sleeve of your shirt. vulnerable.

"never. i would never."

it takes him another second to gather up the last pieces of confidence. the last pieces of strenght to open up his little tiny heart.

"i-i miss him." his little hands stay clutching onto your sleeve, not enough to stretch the material but just enough to let you know how hard this is for him. how he's taking the big step, how he's inviting you in with a shaky voice.

the hand in his dark hair never stops its movements, staying combing through it, feeling him nuzzle deeper into you. "oh, sweetheart. i'm sure you do." you hum quietly. "he's gonna be back really soon though. i promise."

you feel him nod against you. when another kid emerges from the outside, you quietly ask for her to whisper and swallow another giggle when she starts dramatically tiptoeing closer to you, ready to tie a newly made bracelet over your wrist. it's beautiful.

you stay like that for almost two hours – sitting in the bean bag with your arm locked securely in megumi's hold as he's letting out small little snores. you don't mind. you don't mind at all.

most of the kids have already left, their parents having come after them. they always greet you with a smile and thank you for keeping their kids happy and safe and it always warms your heart. there's nothing else you'd love more than this. and how the kids say bye... some of them hug you, some of them land a fat smooch on your cheek, one of them always shakes your hand (very firmly)(a lot of people could learn a thing from him). and all of them always wave with the brightest smiles on their faces.

you're eyeing the warm late afternoon sun from your spot on the bean bag when you hear the door open and close, a pair of loud footsteps approaching. megumi's guardian, surely.

tearing your eyes from the sun, you turn to meet the man and oh... his mouth is ajar as if he was about to yell out for megumi in the most dramatic way possible (he was). his crystal blue eyes shine in the very same light you were just basking in, taking in the sight before him. his lips close and reform into the warmest smile before he's whispers a small hi.

"hi." you answer with a smile of your own. nobody told you that he was gonna like that. sure, you've seen megumi's drawings but no offense to the boy – they do not do him justice. this has to be to most handsome guy you've ever seen. and he's your age, too. "you're here for megumi, right?"

he nods, leaning on the doorframe. "satoru."

after you introduce yourself, he repeats your name, tasting it on his tongue - and you're now stuck with the memory of one of the older faculty members saying something about how it's always very unprofessional to have crushes on the parents and whatnot. and whatnot.

he makes his way over – keeping his eyes on his beloved boy, sleeping oh, so comfortably in your arms. the way his chest is rising and falling steadyly, his fingers digging into your shirt. his heart swells.

kneeling in front of you, he smiles at the boy before turning his focus to his keeper. the golden sunlight is making your eyes shine and when you give him a shy little smile, he knows megumi is in safe hands.

"you're new?" he whispers.

"mhmm. and you don't actually have to whisper." satoru's eyes flick to megumi and you understand his question without him asking it. "oh, he's out. like a light. we've been sitting here for what?" you look at the clock before continuing. "two hours?"

satoru's smile widens at that. "he's kept you locked up for two hours?"

raising your hand from megumi's hair, you cover your mouth, hiding a grin. "he's cute, no harm done."

satoru hums. "he is. pretty sure you're the first teacher to see him like this."

"yeah." lowering your hand back down, you brush a few strands from his eyes, making his nose scrunch up and making the two of you swoon over the pouty kid. "i'm very honored."

satoru's eyes flick back to you. there's a certain softness in them, despite the deep dark purple peeking out from underneath the skin under them. you don't know what kind of a job he has but you know it sometimes requires him to be away for a while. it must be hard for him too; hard to leave his boy in some stranger's hands. but satoru is already convinced that you're no stranger.

"i'm glad he has you."

you feel a tint of blush making its way over your cheeks because of the sincerity in his tone. he really means it.

"but seriously, though? you've been sitting in the same spot for two hours? you're telling me your feet aren't dead?" he deadpans with a smirk.

lowering your head, you confess: "i have to go to the bathroom so badly."

he almost doubles over, holding a palm over his mouth, hiding the laughter ready to burst out. you try to glare at him but it's useless – you're holding your laughter with him a second after.

your body shakes with the giddyness, making megumi stir and you still. caressing his cheek, you try to make sure he ignores the two giggling adults next to him and stays asleep.

"and yes, my arm is dead but c'mon, how was i supposed to say no to this?" as if on cue, megumi lets out a content breath, his lips molding into his usual little pout, which in return makes the two of you look at him fondly. again.

"no, don't worry. i understand – he's a real charmer." he whispered. "what got him in this mood, anyway? nothing happened, right?" his eyes widen as the words leave his mouth, concern painting his face in a second.

trying to soothe his worry, you immediately shake your head. "no, no. he's okay. nothing happened." satoru exhales deeply, hand covering his heart. you don't think he even knows how worried he looked just now.

"but?" his voice breaks the small silence. "i feel like there's a 'but' here."

giving him a smile, you look the sleeping boy locked onto your arm. "i promised i wouldn't tell, though..."

"wha-?" the grown man's lip pull into a pout and you realize that the boy really does take after him. "but i need to know..."

deciding to make sure that megumi is still in fact, sleeping, you check his breathing – steady as ever, so you beckon the man a little closer.

"he missed you that's all."

it's so quiet. not even a whisper but satoru hears the words loud and clear. his eyes fall to his boy once more, something so tender in them – making your own heart beat a little louder. "but don't tell him i told you. i promised i wouldn't."

"never. i'd never take this from you." he rests his one hand beside your thigh on the bean bag, while the other goes to smooth over his cheek. the poor boy would die of embarrassment if he were to witness all this affection bestowed upon him. "thank you for telling me."

your gazes meet again, the love in them mixing together into a warm goo, filling the room and connecting the three of you forever.

"of course."

there's a comfortable silence between you and the man. a man you met mere minutes ago but when he bends over to pick up the bracelet made out of red string and continues to tie it back on your wrist without a word, you're certain you know him. or maybe knew him in another life; whatever the case, you were meant to meet again.

you thank him but he casually brushes it off as if it wasn't a big deal, as if he did it on instict, his fingers already itching to do things for you.

"is your bladder about to explode, by the way?" teasing. his tone is teasing and you can't help but reward him with another smile. his favourite pay.

"yes– yes, it fucking is." it takes you a second to realize what just slipped from between your lips. eyes growing twice their size as you stare back at satoru, who's, of course, already silently laughing, the corners of his lips reaching his ears. "you heard nothing."

"this is who's been taking care of the kids? wow, does the faculty know of the foul mouth you're sporting?"

"hey!" you whisper shout at him and before you can even register your own movements, your free hand lands a soft punch against his strong chest. it's always very unprofessional to have crushes on the parents. this time real heat paints your cheeks and the tips of your ears.

"sorry– i'm sorry." the only thing you can do is to mutter a quick apology - you're embarrassing yourself and you can't even run from it, the sleeping boy keeping you in your place and you're honestly ready to spiral because you just kind of hit (punched, even) him - this is definitely you crossing a line. and what if he really gets mad now and actually tells the faculty—

another wave of laughter breaks you from your thoughts. and then his own hand makes contact – landing firmly on your thigh; not to far up to make it like that but it's there to reassure that he's not a snitch of any kind and that's he's truly happy to have you as megumi's teacher. nothing better than having a real person looking after your boy.

but it is satoru gojo – it wouldn't be him if he didn't tease you properly at least once. "you're so cute like this. curses and hits being thrown here and there, whew! a great rolemodel for the kids, for sure."

you're burning up, almost afraid that you'll wake gumi with the heat emitting from your body. satisfied with the result, satoru gives your thigh a squeeze. "i'm kidding, i'm kidding. no harm done, right?"

he's gazing at you, borderline burning his eyes into yours with a sly smirk and now you also understand why megumi keeps calling his guardian very annoying every chance he gets.

"yeah." you quirp. "anyway, my ass is getting really sore now, so i think it's best to-" in attempt to escape the stealth attack on your heart, you try to change the topic, even when the weight of satoru's eyes stays on you for a second longer.

you shift your gaze to megumi, raising your hand to his face, gently tracing down his nose and booping it. you brush more of his hair from his face, trying to pull him from his dreamland as softly as you can. "megumi, look, who's here...."

his lips press into another pout as you land a second boop on his nose, finally making him stir. his eyes open ever so slowly, gazing up at you as he raises his fist to rub out the sleep.

"hey, gumi."

satoru's voice stills the boy. his body doesn't move, his eyes alone turning from you to the source of the voice. and the second his green eyes meet the blue ones – he's burying his face into the crook of satoru's neck. you observe their little reunion; megumi's hands are so tight around his neck, most certainly choking the man but he doesn't mind. he doesn't mind at all. satoru's arms wrap around the boy, holding him safe and sound right to his chest, to his heartbeat.

"missed me?"

megumi grumbles something into him, something unintelligible but most definitely something that resembles a kid's insult. satoru's mischievous eyes meet yours and you bite your lip, trying to look as stern as possible when the both of you know that you're just holding back another beautiful smile.

"let's go home, yeah?"

megumi nods as satoru stands with the boy in his arms. when you start pushing yourself up, he lends you a hand - his warm fingers easily engulfing yours in a quick motion. the touch lingers, skin on skin longer than needed. neither of you say comment on it – the butterflies in your stomach would gladly do all of the talking for you. you walk them to the door, staring at the sleepy little megumi, who's glancing at you over satoru's shoulder every two seconds.

you hand satoru megumi's pack and then gently place his jacket over his shoulders before giving one final rub on his back. "be good, yeah?"

he hums back, green eyes finding safe haven in yours. another smile is threathing to show when you wink at him, so he buries himself back into satoru's neck, making the man laugh loudly. this is the first time you hear it for real. it ripples through his whole body, his chest –shaking megumi as it does, it bounces off the walls of the room and finds its way to you and your ears. it's irresistible – you can't not respond with the same when he does it, the current just pulling you along. and it'll keep you for a long time.

"it was nice to meet you. finally."

"oh, you've been waiting for this?"

...

yeah, you walked right into that one, you admit your unfortune, but luckily megumi is there to save you by giving him a hard nudge on the back.

"okay, okay, little guy.... can't even hit on his teachers in peace..." he sighs, earning a way stronger hit and a way darker blush on your cheeks. "it was really nice meeting you too. finally."

you give him a small nod, fingers playing with the bracelet. you watch him carry the boy toward the door, ready to go home and calm your heart.

"wait-" satoru turns just as he steps outside into the sunlight. his eyes shine now even more than they did inside, almost blinding you. "how come you're not running to the bathroom? i thought you were dying."

"well, i was trying to be polite and wait until you leave, so you know..." lowering your voice, you tell him: "fuck off already." flashing him one final smile, the one he's gonna think about for the rest of the night (for the rest of many many nights), you motion for him to move along.

a quick little bye is all he gets before you close the door after him, leaving him standing in from of the house with a stupid smitten grin on his face. if it weren't for megumi, he'd probably stay standing there. "they said fuck." the boy whispers.

"fuck yeah." he laughs before he ruffles megumi's hair, finally making their way over to his car. "by the way, you're an awful wingman, buddy..."

[sgtmickeyslaughter]

Time of the Season: Fall 🍁

As the seasons change and the leaves begin to fall, Ian and Mickey find cozy comfort in unfamiliar places.

long story short: want to see what's going on under the water? Click the title for fic link

[dimlylittorch]

i am on my knees for this man. and he’s on his knees for me. (this is roughly 5k words)

My Masterlist🌱

Silco x transmasc!reader

small synopsis: reader ends up getting beaten up- bro is NOT happy. Hurt/comfort with some angst, fluffy ending :3

Warnings: very brief mention of SH

You were the one soft thing in his life. The one thing that was untouched by evil, or greed, or hate. When he found you wandering alone around an entrance into the Undercity, he knew from the moment he saw you.. you were different.

You had been giving a homeless person, probably shimmer addicted and dangerous, food. And soft words. And your time. Something he never thought he’d see. Someone so gentle they would think about sewer rats like that. You’d gone so far as to sit next to them, pulling whatever you could out of your bag for them to have. “I’m sorry I don’t have more.” You had said softly, practically sending a shiver up his spine at the time. And then you had offered to bring more tomorrow.

And so, that next day he waited at that entrance. And around that same time, you came back with an extra bag full of food. Good food. Homemade. He watched as you walked along the wall, offering some to anyone who was there. And when you’d reached the entrance.. you saw him.

“Sir?” You’d asked with a soft tone. “Would you like something to eat?”

He could see you were hesitant- as you should be. You’d probably grown up being told of the dangers of the Undercity.. but here you stood, putting yourself in harms way for people who wouldn’t do the same for you.

“Hm.” He had hummed as his eyes trailed over you. “What is it?” He asked with a quirk of his eyebrow.

As you stepped closer to him with a shy smile, you opened your bag to show him. “Oh, it’s just muffins. Nothing too special, but I thought they might help.” Reaching into your bag, you pulled out a blueberry muffin wrapped in tissue paper and offered it to him. He stared at your hand for a moment before tentatively taking it from you.

“I see.” He murmured quietly as his eyes meet your own. Stepping into the light, he walked closer to you and kept his gaze on yours. “You’re a pretty little thing.” He mused faintly. “This is a dangerous place, you know.”

When you saw his full face in the light you shrunk back slightly, but only for a moment. Staying still, you look right back up at him, much to his amusement. He didn’t think he remembered a time when someone hadn’t cowered under his gaze. “You don’t seem like the rest of them” you said softly as your eyes scanned over his face.

“Well aren’t you clever” he chuckled faintly. “If any other topsider was this close to my territory.. I fear we’d have a problem.” He murmurs with a small smirk. “But you pose no threat to me, little one.”

“You talk like you’re in charge..” you murmur as you take a step back, eyes glancing over his slender form.

He smirked wider at your words, pulling out a cigar and a lighter. “That’s because I am.” He muses followed by the click of his lighter.

Before he can say anything else, you suddenly pull the cigar out of his hand, leaving him stunned as he looked down at you. “Don’t you know this is bad for you?” You huff as you look up at him with a scolding look. “What kind of leader doesn’t care about his own health?”

He stares down at you completely dumbfounded. The nerve alone.. you threw him for a loop completely. Before he can think he lunges forward to try and grab the cigar, but you quickly move away, a smile forming on your lips. “Hey! No- you’re not getting this back”

Your innocence makes him sick. But your smile makes someone inside of him burn. “You are nothing but a pest” he growls as he stalks towards you.

When you realize how angry he looks you can’t help but laugh as you walk backwards. “I’m trying to save your life here” you grin cheekily as you playfully try to get away from him. Before you know it you’re halfway through the threshold into the Undercity.

When Silco realizes how close you are into the dangers of Zaun he rushes forward, grabbing you by the collar of your shirt and pinning you against the stone wall. His breath is heavy as he keeps you there, staring down at you as he collects himself from his anger. “Never.. go in there alone.” He says lowly, a rough growl near your ear. “Do you understand me?”

Your smile had quickly been wiped away when he grabbed you, a surprised sound slipping past your lips when he pinned you against the wall. Looking up at him, you hesitantly nodded your head, your breathing quick and face flushed. “Yes sir” you whispered breathlessly, the tension palpable.

He didn’t even know you.. but he felt protective of you. He felt like you were his. Letting go of your shirt, his eyes softened as he looked down at you and saw how your face was flushed. “Forgive me.” He murmurs faintly, his eyes locked on yours.

Gazing up at him, you couldn’t help but gently reach up to straighten his tie, eyes shifting to the collar of his shirt. His gaze follows your hands, silently watching as you fix his shirt. “You’re okay.” You murmured softly. His heart skipped a beat at your words. You could’ve said ‘it’s okay’.. but you said ‘you’re okay’. Words he hadn’t heard in a long time.

Before you can say anything else he leans forward, hands on either side of you against the wall as his lips meet yours. A small gasp leaves you as he kisses you, but you can’t stop yourself from kissing him back. It only lasted for a few moments before he pulled away begrudgingly. “Come back tomorrow.” He whispered against your ear before he took a step back and left through the threshold, leaving you standing against the wall, his cigar and your muffin left forgotten on the ground.

That was weeks ago. Now he saw you almost daily, insisting that you kept coming back. You could’ve easily denied him- returned home and never came back. But you did. You always came back. Like a moth to a flame.

You made him feel like a teenager again, revitalizing his youth. Before you he couldn’t recall the last time he had been kissed. His scars and power always drove people away, understandably so. It took a silly little topsider like you to see the man he used to be.

Sneaking into his office after meetings, pulling him into random alleyways.. all just for a little time with him. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve something like you. He just hoped you would keep coming back like always.

Every day he would wait at the threshold between Piltover and Zaun. He would walk you through the Undercity, bringing you to where he could keep you all for himself. And every day you would show up with a wide smile, just happy to see him.

He always met you around noon, but one day you decided to slip into the Undercity earlier than usual. You knew he had been working hard recently, and you wanted to surprise him. You’d woken up early just to make him a special batch of treats, hoping to cheer him up from his recent stress.

Walking into the Undercity on your own.. the one thing he’d warned you of. You were a big boy- surely you could handle yourself for one day, right? You just had to put your hood up lay low, not drawing any attention to yourself. At least.. that’s what you thought.

You always met him at noon on the dot. For the first time in weeks you weren’t here at the threshold. Silco’s foot began to tap against the pavement with anxiety rising up inside of him. Had you finally figured out the kind of man he was? Made the smart decision to leave him and the Undercity behind?

After waiting for almost an hour he throws his cigar at the ground before turning and heading back into the Undercity. Taking his usual route to his office, he glares at anyone that dares look at him. Needless to say, he was seething. You had this hold on him- and now you were gone? Just like that? He was tempted to send Sevika to find you. But he knew he would look weak.

As he walks down one alleyway in particular, his eyes trail along the different people crouched on the ground, poor and probably shimmer addicted. He scoffs in disgust when he looks over them, seeing people begging for help.. something he swore he’d never do. Before he can turn the corner he catches a glimpse of a familiar colored bag, pausing in his stride as he looks over. That was when his heart stopped.

There you stood, hand and head resting against the dirty stone as you coughed weakly, blood dripping from your mouth. Your knees looked weak, and he could see bruises on your arms starting to form. Before he could say anything, he hears a faint noise slip past your lips. And then a few clear droplets fall onto the pavement. You were crying.

Within a second though, your sadness turned to anger. Pushing off of the wall and kicking a trashcan over, you let out a choked yell. As the volume faded, it turned into a weak sob, followed by you throwing your bag into the alleyway, which made people’s heads turn.

He’d never seen you angry. He’d never seen you cry either. It had only been a few weeks, but he’d started to believe those emotions didn’t even lie within you. He was stunned into silence, his body frozen as his eyes follow your bag before looking back at where you collapsed on the ground.

“Fucking take it” you muttered hoarsely as you wipe your eye with your wrist. “Take it all.” You snap at the people eyeing your bag. “The one thing I needed for myself- you took. Don’t bite the hand that fucking feeds you.” you practically seethe. Even in your injured state- he could feel the anger. He understood it too. The pain of being kind in a world that doesn’t return the same sentiment.

After a few more moments he quickly steps forward, kneeling down and pulling you against him. “What did I say?” He whispers against your ear, but there’s no chastising tone in his voice. Simply guilt that he wasn’t there for you.

You sniffle weakly when you realize it’s him, letting him pull you close. Resting your head on his chest, a soft sigh leaves you. “M’sorry” you whisper weakly. “Just.. wanted to surprise you. But I messed up.”

He sighs softly as he looks over the state of you. You have a black eye and bruises on your arms.. a cut here and there. He hoists you into his arms and stands up, but as he steps away only then does he see the puddle of blood on the ground. His eyes widen and he quickly looks over you, trying to see if it was from you or not. He uses his hand to feel along your back, but only when you cry out does he realize his hand feels warm.. and wet.

Making his way through the streets as fast as he could, he made it back to the last drop, storming in where all of his usual patrons sat. When the doors slam, everyone quickly turns to see Silco standing there with you in his arms and pure rage on his face.

“If I don’t have their heads within twenty four hours” he practically growls as he looks around the room. “I’ll pull every limb from every body in this room. Go.”

Your eyesight grows dim as you feel yourself being set on the couch in his office. You look up slightly to see Sevika standing over you, grabbing a roll of bandages. When you look to the right you see straight out of the door that leads from Silco’s office into the alleyway. You’d never seen him angry. Not like this. He had someone by their collar on their knees, punching them in the face repeatedly before tossing them aside with a yell.

When Sevika turns her back you stand up on shaky legs, walking towards the door the best you can. Managing to reach the doorway, you watch as Silco kicks a trashcan, letting out a yell of frustration. You didn’t know how much time had passed.. but you felt more lightheaded by the second. “Sil?” You say weakly, wishing he would be able to relax. His head snaps around, and when he sees you standing he quickly rushes forward and holds you up.

“Sevika- I told you to watch him!” He snaps as he brings you back over to the couch. Hearing Sevika’s sigh of frustration, you feel tears start to well in your eyes- especially as the shock starts to fade, leaving you with more pain than you’d ever experienced.

When Silco sets you down on the couch and starts to step away, you quickly reach out and grab his arm with a weak yelp of pain. “D-don’t leave me” you choke out as tears start to spill down your cheeks.

He quickly turns when he feels himself pulled back, and when he sees the tears spilling from your eyes his anger starts to mold into concern. He moves to sit next to you on the couch, pulling you into his arms. He positions you so Sevika can see your back where you had a small stab wound- probably from some dirt ridden pocket knife. He seethes at the thought of some low life leaving you in that alley. Wrapping his arms around you, one arm hooked under your own, he holds you as close as he can with your face tucked against his chest and the back of the couch.

“You’re okay” he murmurs softly against your ear, his breathing starting to slow from his previous anger. “Shh, shh..” he says faintly as you cry in his arms. “I’ll never leave.” Hearing a scoff from Sevika, he shoots her a glare. He knew he looked weak- he couldn’t stand it. But the way he felt for you outweighed how others viewed him. Adjusting you slightly so Sevika can treat the wound in your back, she gestures for your shirt to be taken off. He hesitates for only a moment before helping pull your shirt off, tossing the blood stained cloth aside.

Now- you and Silco had been fooling around. But it had never gotten quite this far; shirtless, I mean. Sure, you’d made out every now and then, but he was a busy man.. curling up into him as you tried to hide your embarrassment, you tense as Sevika starts to treat the stab wound. Shaking in Silco’s arms from the pain, you can’t help but cry more. It was embarrassing.. these were two of the most powerful people in the Undercity. And here you sat, crying in front of them like a baby.

Silco could practically read your thoughts when he saw how you curled into yourself. Resting his head against your own, his breath fans out over your ear. “You.. are so strong.” He whispers faintly so only you can hear. When he senses your confusion from his words, he pulls you a little closer. “Any other spoiled Piltover brat would’ve laid down and taken it.” He murmurs softly. “But I can tell you fought. My strong little thing.” He whispers against your skin.

Sighing softly, you relax in his arms slightly. “I made you cupcakes.” You whisper faintly after a few quiet moments.

Silco’s eyebrows quirk up and he looks at Sevika for a moment before looking back down at you. “What?” He questions softly as he brushes a piece of hair off of your forehead.

Sniffing slightly as Sevika tapes down the bandage, you sigh. “I wanted to surprise you.” You whisper quietly, as if embarrassed. “Since you told me you guys don’t.. do birthdays much down here- and you’ve been working so hard.. I guess they thought my bag had money in it. When they realized it was just food they..” you trail off faintly, curling into his chest more. “I should’ve listened to you.”

Silco practically feels his heart break as he listens to your words, looking down at you in disbelief for a few moments. When your wound is patched up well enough he motions for Sevika to leave, who does accordingly. Gently using his finger to lift your chin, he looks down into your tear filled eyes. “I will burn this whole city to the ground if I have to.” He says coldly, and you can tell he meant it. “You will never feel unsafe again. Never. Do you understand me?”

Gazing up at him for a few seconds, you gently nod before tucking your head under his chin. The two of you sat like that for a few minutes before your voice reached his ears. “Maybe I should’ve listened to my parents.” You whispered faintly, your shaking tone indicating how hard it was for you to admit that.

He tensed at your words, his arms tightening around you. He felt how blood rushed through his ears at the thought- the thought of you two never meeting. “No one” he says lowly. “Will take you away from me.” He growled.

You should’ve been scared. His anger should’ve frightened you. But.. you never felt more wanted. Maybe it was problematic- or unhealthy. But you could tell he needed you. Just like you needed him. You had been overlooked your whole life. Or if you were noticed, it was for an achievement. Not for you.

When he realizes what he said, and how it may have come off.. the tension fades from his body. He hugs you closer, his lips against your hair. “Forgive me.” He whispers faintly.

“Do you love me?”

His heart stopped when your words registered, and he swore the air stood still. Sitting up to get a clear look at you, he watches how you tilt your head up towards him, your soft eyes locking on his own. “Love..” he murmurs softly, looking off to the side. “Is a tricky thing.”

Gently leaning up, your lips brush against the underside of his jaw. “I think I might love you.” You murmur softly against his skin. His heart rate quickens at your words, and you can tell how he doesn’t know how to handle it. You’d only know each other for weeks- a few months at the most. Surely stealing a few kisses here and there wasn’t enough to establish love?

“You don’t understand what love is.” He sighs quietly, resting his arm along the back of the couch and resting his mouth in his hand as he avoids your gaze.

Your eyes narrowed slightly at his words, and you try your best to sit up to look at him face to face. “Who are you to tell me how I feel?”

He scoffs, shaking his head as he looks at you. “Whatever you feel for me.. it’s not love. Infatuation, perhaps. You’re too naive.” He mutters as he rubs his forehead. It hurt him to say those words, although he’d never admit it. He did love you. That much he was sure of. But is it fair? For a man like him to love again? Let alone a little thing like you.

“You’re so full of shit.” You snap as you manage to scoot further away from him on the couch, ignoring the burning pain in your back.

He quickly looks over at you, annoyance on his face. “Excuse me?”

When you see his anger bubbling slightly, you falter for a moment. “Y-Yeah.” You stutter. “You’re- you’re not nice to anyone else” you say quickly as you try to think. “Not like you are to me. And I’ve never seen you be soft with someone. And here you are holding me-.”

He rolls his eyes and stands up, turning his back to you as he walks over to his desk and leaning over it as he looks out of the window. “It’s pathetic. Truly.” He mutters. “How a spoiled little brat from topside finds one man to hug on him, and all of a sudden it’s love” he spits as he turns to look at you. He felt his heart ripping as he spoke. But he couldn’t stop himself. “Poor little you, all touch starved and unloved.” He seethes as he pushes off of his desk, walking over to you. “You are nothing.” He says dangerously as he steps in front of you, grabbing your chin and yanking you upward, making you yelp slightly. “Nothing to me. Nothing to the world. Nothing at all.”

When he lets go of your face you quickly grab it yourself, trying to soothe the ache in your jaw. There would definitely be bruises tomorrow.. his fingerprints left indented on your skin. Tears spilled down your cheeks as he spoke, and as soon as he turned away from you, you managed to stand up and grab your shirt, walking towards the door. He watched you leave, wanted desperately to reach out and apologize. But years of hatred had festered in his heart.. stopping him completely.

It was a wonder you even made it home. At least, that’s what you thought. Silco had Sevika tail you to make sure you didn’t collapse in an alleyway. But you didn’t need to know that.

Your parents were in a state when you entered the house, the both of them having dinner when they saw you standing there, battered and bloody. They immediately shacked you up in your room, calling the closest doctor to examine you.

That was four days ago. You’ve hardly left your room, deciding to stay curled up in bed, thinking about everything you did wrong. Silco had to be wrong. If you didn’t love him, why the hell did it hurt this bad to not have him around?

Meanwhile, Silco was in the same boat. He still went to the threshold every day, silently hoping you would return, coming in with violent optimism and putting him in his place, making him love you. But every day.. he stood alone. It was starting to eat him up inside. He couldn’t believe he’d done that to you. Said that to you. Touched you like that after promising you’d never be hurt again. He’d gone as far as putting out his cigars on himself. Just as a reminder of what you must’ve felt- having your heart ripped to pieces by a man who was supposed to keep you safe.

Needless to say, neither of you were taking this well. Right after you’d left that day, someone had brought him the sewer rats that had beat you. He spent the next two hours doing whatever he could to make them hurt.. taking out his own frustrations as well.

Coming up on day five of no interaction, he couldn’t stand it anymore. Putting on a cloak, he made his way into Piltover unnoticed. He knew where you lived thanks to Sevika, but when he saw the mansion your parents owned he knew he couldn’t just knock. He managed to case the house to the best of his ability, but he got lucky. He watched as you stepped out onto your small balcony connected to your room, and he knew where to find you.

Now, don’t ask about how he managed to climb up onto your balcony. Once he slid over the railing, he looked through the glass doors and found you lying in your bed, curled up into a ball under the blankets. He sighed softly when he saw how your head was hidden under the covers. He knew he must have torn your heart out. He could barely stand the thought. Managing to slip into your room silently, he rested against the wall near the balcony in case he needed to take his leave suddenly- like if your parents walked in. He pulled off his cloak and set it on your vanity before sitting in an empty chair.

What could he say to you? He knew his apologies would probably be worthless. He watched the way your body rose and fell in tandem with your soft breathing. He had never felt so alive as when watching you simply exist. Seeing you breathe, seeing you laugh.. it all reminded him of life itself. How to some.. there was good in the world.

After a few moments pass with him sitting and thinking of what to do, he suddenly hears a weak gasp. Looking up immediately, he sees you sitting up on your side with your back to him. He sees the way your body starts to rattle with sharp sobs that no doubt send shooting pain throughout your wound. You were having nightmares. And it was probably all his fault.

After a moment you turn with a wince to rest your back against the headboard, but you freeze when your eyes land on him sitting near your balcony. He saw the way your whole body tensed, and how you quickly tried to wipe your tears away so he wouldn’t see. With a heavy sigh, he gently stood and walked over to your large bed, sitting on the end of it with his back to you. Resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, the two of you stay quiet for a few moments, the only sounds being his tired breaths and your sniffles.

“Love is too complex of an emotion for my body to handle anymore.” His voice says quietly, but you heard him clear as day in the wide open room. “Often.. I wake up and wonder what it’s all for. Money, power.. humanity. You.. have ruined me.” He whispers faintly, his voice gravelly. “You are everything I am not. Everything I can never be again. Please.. forgive me. Forgive a damaged fool who burns up in the presence of your light.” He murmurs through tired breaths. “You deserve nothing as scarred as me. I wish I could say my flaws are only skin deep. But I’m afraid my heart is as marred as my face.”

After he speaks, his voice raw with honesty, he’s left in silence. After a few long moments, he tenses as he feels your arms slide around his waist, pulling him close as your head rests on his back. “I’m just a stupid kid- like you said” you choke out, voice raw from how much you had been crying. “And you’re so.. so much more.” You sob softly, arms tightening around him as you bury your face against his shirt. “You’re beautiful. Especially when you’re broken.” You add through tears, giving him the hug you always wished someone would give you.

Shaky breaths slip past his lips as he tries to comprehend your words. God, how he missed feeling human. Once he manages to breathe again, he gently turns onto the bed, grabbing you from behind him and pulling you to rest over his lap. Your legs hang over his thigh, still on the bed as he presses his forehead against your own, one arm around your shoulders and the other around your hips. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” He chokes out softly, his eyes closing as his hands rub over your clothed skin.

Sighing softly when he pulls you into his lap, you can’t help but snuggle into him with a weak yawn. Your face was red and tear stained.. you looked like you’d barely slept. “My parents will kill you if they find you here.” You chuckle weakly against his chest. “You’re not exactly the kind of guy they want me to bring home.”

With a weak smile crossing his face, he presses his lips against your forehead gently. “I would trust their judgement.” He murmurs as he gently rocks you back and forth ever so slightly. “You shouldn’t forgive me so easily” he whispers against your hair. “You deserve better than that.”

Sighing softly, you lean up to press your lips to the underside of his jaw. “Yeah.. well. Believe it or not, I still feel safest with you.” You murmur tiredly. With a faint sigh he gently picks you up, walking around the length of your bed and setting you down, your head resting against your pillows. Yawning gently, you snuggle into your blankets and the pile of stuffed animals next to you. “go lock the door” you order sleepily.

With a faint chuckle he follows your command, locking your bedroom door before he walks back over to where you lay in your bed. Bending down to slip off his shoes, he moves to lay underneath the covers with you, pulling you into his arms with a contented sigh. “Is this alright?” He murmurs softly.

Cuddling into his hold, you nod as your eyes start to close. “if you hear my parents just wake me up and hide under the bed.” You say faintly, melting into his arms as he keeps you warm.

Smiling against your hair he places a kiss to your forehead, his hand reaching up to rub your upper back soothingly. “Don’t worry.” He whispers against your skin. “This is our little secret.”

[savorypink]

need late sias!alex as a barista and u as the annoying customer who comes in during closing time. he angry fucks you in the bathroom cuz u annoy him

“cuz u annoy him” makes me giggle, but here you are anon!

“...and that’s why I stopped paying my taxes!” 

You speak into your phone’s speaker, swinging the doors of the small cafe open. Caught up in a conversation over the phone, you miss the scowl on the barista’s face as you saunter towards the counter. The lights of your favorite coffee spot have warmly dimmed, the minimal lighting enhancing the coziness of the atmosphere. This lighting, however, is an indication that closing time is near. To the dismay of the night shift barista, Alex, you have always made it your business to show up right before the doors close. Your horrible timing isn’t entirely your fault, though; 1) you’ve got things to do, 2) the cafe has become rather popular recently, and your patience isn’t the best. Why would you want to wait in line? 

Your conversation continues even when faced with the barista, completely ignoring the chairs sitting on the empty tables, the lemon scent of cleaning products breezing past your nose entirely. The barista’s cute, large doe eyes look up at you from the counter he’s wiping down with a bleach-stained rag; he doesn’t seem happy to see you. 

“Hold on just one second...” you say to the barista and your rambling friend on the phone. Digging into your bra, you pull out the crumpled-up bills and coins for your usual drink, all in exact change. You hand him the money with a warm, lip gloss-coated smile. You’ll see if he’s worthy of a tip. 

“You know what to do.” You finish with a wink before he takes the money out of your manicured hands. Your perfume's pleasant candy scent lingers when you turn your heel to the tables behind you, dizzying and addictive to his nostrils, but he scowls as soon as you pick up a chair. Plopping down, you continue entertaining your friend on the phone, and you aren’t quiet about it.

“Yeah, I’m at the cafe now. It’s so cute!” you squeal. “You should totally hit it up sometime. Make sure the Elvis-looking guy makes your drink, though. He’s the best.” 

Your words wash away the barista’s annoyance as he prepares your drink, knowing your preferences like strings on a guitar, pure muscle memory. Your loud mouth quickly tarnishes this somewhat peaceful moment.

“It’s the ginger-haired girl you gotta watch out for. Ugh, she’s the worst! Can’t make a drink for shit. And guess what? I found a hair in my muffin! When I flipped out on her, she kept saying, ‘Calm down,’” You do perhaps your worst impression of the nasally lady, “and she was like, ‘Do you want another muffin?’ No! I want my money back, Ed Sheeran!”

Your friend on the other line laughs alongside you, a bubbly yet ear-piercing cackle that makes Alex almost crush the mixer in his hands. His brain bounces from wanting to hear your laughter again to shutting you up with a kiss. As your gums continue flapping, you allow your eyes to examine the barista behind the counter. His backside is as cute as his front, the lean muscle of his shoulders contracting under his white t-shirt, strong arms flexing as he scoops up the ice and pours it into the mixer. You put a gelled nail between your teeth as you watch him, shifting in your seat as your panties become uncomfortably wet.

“Hey! Are you still there?” Your friend calls on the other line.

“Yeah!” Your cheeks warm up at the interruption, “Like I said, make sure Elvis makes your drink. You’ll know exactly what he looks like. If his back is turned, just look for the one with the cute butt.”

Alex is thankful his back is turned, your words tinting his face a rosy red. The silver bell on the counter dings once your drink is prepared. You don’t bother putting the chair back as you approach the counter. You thoroughly look through the transparent cup, ensuring the amount of ice and the number of dried fruit is accurate; you have no notes. Taking a sip, you let the liquid linger on your tongue before swallowing. Cold, sweet, and punchy; you couldn’t ask for more. You reenter your bra, dig out some change, and place it into the tip jar near the register. Your sunny, warm smile conflicts with the barista’s snowy, freezing shoulder.

“Thanks, Alan!” 

“Alex.”

Your eyes dart to the pastry case behind him, a croissant drizzled with chocolate catching your eye. “How much for that croissant? It looks tasty…”

“For you? Free of charge.” He’s more concerned with getting you out of here before you give him gray hairs. 

“Wow, really?” you beam in amazement. “You’re so kind! Alan, you’re the best! You’re way nicer than that ginger chick who tried to poison me. Ugh, she doesn’t work here anymore, does she? So unprofessional. She’d be better at scrubbing toilets than making drinks.”

Alex smirks at your remarks as he hands you the pastry in a white paper bag. “You mean my boss?”

“That’s your boss?” You immediately take the pastry out of the bag, biting into the flaky treat. “She’s in the wrong line of work if you ask me!” 

“Oh, yeah? Do tell.”

Your mouth moves before you can detect the sarcasm in his voice. You’re oblivious to the flakes falling into your shirt, decorating your cleavage as you continue munching and talking. Alex second-guesses giving you a napkin before handing you a few from the dispenser. If he didn't, he’d have more reason to stare at your chest. Flakes and chocolate stain the corners of your mouth and lip, and he hates to admit it, but you’re looking very…cute.

“Anyway,” you finish, wiping yourself clean, “You should totally be running this place, Alan. It doesn’t hurt that you’re super hot, too. Just work on the resting bitch face, and you’ll be amazing!”

Your final comment digs painfully into his skin, and it’s a shame. He was starting to like you.

“You’re too pretty to be talking with your mouth full,” Alex crosses his lean arms over his chest. “ I could teach you proper etiquette if you’d like. I’m a tough teacher, though. Be warned.”

Offended, you blink wildly before smiling at the compliment he snuck into his invitation. You gladly accept.

“You think I’m pretty?”

---

The cold marble of the bathroom sink raises the tiny hairs on your skin. You claw at it to no avail, sheepishly bent over the sink with your thong and velour tracksuit pants hugging your ankles. The empty bathroom echoes a slapping sound, a mixture of wetness and the noise of your ass against Alex’s relentless hips. His cock drives in and out of you at a brutal pace; each thrust angrier than the next. 

“You’re awfully quiet,” his large palm comes down on your ass with a vicious spank. “Come on���you were mouthin’ off about a muffin just a minute ago.”

Your cunt gushes at his words, the tight walls of your core needily squeezing him in a vice grip. Lust clouds your brain, unable to form a witty comeback to his statements, your weak moans becoming a new language. Before you lay your head on the marble, Alex fists your hair in a ponytail, tugging you upwards to face the mirror. Ignoring the messy reflection, you allow your eyes to roll into your skull, heat beginning to pool in your stomach, his cock hitting the right spots repeatedly and harshly.

“We’ll figure out a use for your mouth in the next lesson. You're doing a great job at taking me, muffin.”

[sisitrip]

Galladrabble - "Mint For Each Other"

I've been home for only a couple of hours and have eaten about 5 pounds of dumplings and am carrying my cat everywhere lol. I wrote this on an Amtrak and am positive it's in league with the cavity devil. Check your teeth before reading.

Thank you @atthedugouts for the great @galladrabbles prompt "You Were Meant for Me" by Jewel. I hope you enjoy "Mint for Each Other."

__________________________

“See, Ian?” Carl whispered from his bunk-bed. “He’s sleep-smiling. Why come?” 

“How come,” he corrected, kissing a softly snoring Mickey. 

“Okay, how come?”

Mickey nuzzled into his chest, mumbling, “Shut up, shithead.” 

Tongue sticking out, Carl sank under his covers. 

He squeezed Mickey, going back to reading. Carl interrupted him five pages later.

“He’s doing it again,” Carl whispered, peeking. “How come?”

He looked. Mickey was indeed sleep-smiling. 

“He feels safe, maybe?” 

Carl lobbed an observation only the innocent can say without blushing. 

“He’s your person. He’s M-I-N-T for you.”

He melted. 

“Yeah, I hope I’m M-I-N-T for him too.”