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noctumbra · 3 years

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𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦

summary ─ “it’ll be okay. i’m gonna make sure of it.” you sniffed as you buried your face into his tank top. his arms were an anchor around you, a cage that made you feel safe.

pairing ─ mickey henry x reader

warnings ─ exes to lovers, language, angst, fluff, kissing, no freaky things in this one, in the upcoming part however...... hmm

a/n ─ this is my first time writing a character other than bucky in this blog *sniffs* be easy on me? 👉🏻👈🏻🥺 hope you like it! please leave a comment if you do! thank youuu <333

𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝙸

You were at your friend’s wedding. A wedding that they decided to plan it like it was a regular beach party. It was crowded. You probably knew only two─ three people. Four. You knew four people here, and he was the least person you expected to see. Especially what happened between you two, but it somehow made sense for him to be here. He was a DJ at the end, and he was obviously hired for the party.

Mickey was standing by the DJ booth with his headphones hanging on his neck. He was solely focused on the board in front of him, sometimes turning his attention to the laptop on his left. He was bobbing his head to the song, frowning a little when he focused even more to the changing beat.

He looked good.

His skin was shining with gorgeous tan he got throughout the whole summer, it was a nice, warm golden color. His hair’s gotten longer since the last time you saw him. It looked fluffy and soft, and suddenly you were burning with the urge to run your fingers through it. He had a light scruff going on; some whites were shining through the dark ones. He looked really good. You wanted to cry.

All the emotions you have denied yourself to let out were there, wanting to get out, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t cry at the first time you saw him after years. It would be too… pathetic. You took deep breaths, desperately trying to calm down and to send the tears back. When you felt you weren’t going to cry, you made your way to the bar to get yourself a drink as a reward.

“Can I get a gin tonic? Thanks,” you said, smiling at the bartender. The guy nodded politely. His hands worked fast as he prepared your order. In under a minute, you were sipping your gin tonic.

You were sitting at the very end of the bar counter when he came, all smiling. “Hey man,” he greeted the bartender. “Vodka? You know what I like.” The guy nodded like he did to you, but he was all smiley this time. It was obvious that they knew each other; probably from other wedding or party gigs, you thought. You watched him as he waited for his order.

He kept looking at his phone like he was expecting a call or a text. His eyes were wandering around, too. You felt a pang in your chest when the possibility of him having a girlfriend came to mind. Not that he wasn’t allowed to move on, it just hurt to see him move on this quick and that he looked like it wasn’t affecting him. You sighed. Taking a sip, you continued to watch him.

He was still wearing the rings you bought to him as a birthday gift. You knew he loved rings, so you thought it could make a great birthday gift, you were right. Mickey loved them so much so that he only took them off when he was showering. You smiled at the memory. Your fingers were tracing the small tattoo on your wrist. A matching one was winking at you from Mickey’s own wrist.

“Are you gonna pine after him all night?” You shrieked when you heard your friend’s, Rose, voice right next to your ear, making a couple heads turn.

“Fuck’s sake, Rose!” You frowned. “You scared me!” She rolled her eyes.

“You can’t pine after him,” she said, ignoring the stinky eyes you were giving her. You shrugged and returned to your drink. “He has a girlfriend, Y/N. Tell me you’re not gonna do anything.” You felt another pang in your chest, stronger than before.

“Girlfriend?” You murmured and heard Rose’s approving hum. “I wasn’t going to do anything, but thanks for telling me anyway.” You swore you could hear Rose’s taunting ‘huh’ in your mind, but in reality, she stayed silent.

“Whatever,” she said, waving her hand. “I’m gonna go see if Lara needs help with anything.” You nodded absently and watched her disappear in the crowd.

Girlfriend. He did move on. You swallowed the bitter laughter crawling its way out of your throat with the last of your gin tonic.

Your break-up wasn’t exactly messy, but it was expected. You saw it coming and tried to save it many times, but the effort was one-sided so, it didn’t work. You tried damn hard to make it work, though. You wished he’d make some efforts, too, sometimes. It wasn’t a secret that you haven’t moved on from Mickey; a small part of you would always be in love with him in a way, you knew it. You were only thankful that he didn’t go and cheat on you or something while you were still together. You grew apart, that was what happened, and then you had to move away from Greece, and he didn’t stop you…

Sighing again, you signaled the bartender for another gin tonic. You weren’t going to drink your emotions away and get drunk, that’d be absolutely the worst thing you could ever do. This second glass was your last, and then you were going to make up an excuse and walk away.

You thanked the bartender when he brought you your drink. You started sipping it while you searched for Rose so that you could excuse yourself. The wedding part of this party had happened already, so there was no reason for you to stay. Quickly finishing your drink, you looked for Rose only to find her by the altar, talking to a guy you didn’t know.

“Hey, Rose,” you called out to her. “I’m leaving,” you said when she turned to you. A frown sat between her brows immediately. “Alone, fuck’s sake. I had two drinks and I wanna go home before it’s too late. Alright?” The frown didn’t disappear, but she nodded.

“Alright,” she said. “Let me know when you’re home, though,” she added.

“Sure,” you agreed. You could do that. “See ya later.”

─

You decided to walk home through the beach. The sound of the waves and the smell of the sea always calmed you down right away. Tonight wasn’t so different. You hugged yourself. It wasn’t cold although there was a breeze. You didn’t mind, though. It was a nice change after the burning heat of the day.

Walking slowly, you closed your eyes and breathed in deeply. It was peaceful. You forgot how nice this walking-on-the-beach-at-nights thing felt. A smile made your lips twitch. You exhaled slowly, shivering pleasantly when the breeze licked your skin. You were away from the party now, and with the music gone, it got quiet and, like it was possible, even more peaceful.

You smiled.

“Wait!” You froze. “Y/N!”

No, you thought. You didn’t want to deal with him. No, please. I’ll cry, no.

“Hey,” Mickey said when he caught you. “I, uh, didn’t know you were going to come to the party,” he added. His fingers were already playing the short hairs of his nape. You gave him a forced smile and nodded.

“Last minute decision,” you murmured, not bothering to go into detail. Mickey nodded, too. He looked like he wanted to say something but couldn’t, or didn’t know how to. You didn’t pressure him. You just wanted him to go because you didn’t want to cry when he was with you. He didn’t deserve to see you vulnerable anymore.

“Well,” he started. “I’m actually glad you came,” he said, chuckling lightly. You frowned. He’s glad? That’s new, you thought. Mickey hummed softly, seeing the slight frown appearing between your eyebrows. “I wanted to talk to for a while, but you changed your numbed and moved away, so I couldn’t,” he explained. You stopped in your tracks. Taking a deep breath, you tried to swallow your tears away.

“What do you possibly want to talk about, Mickey?” You asked. Your voice was angry and a little shaky. You could feel the lump in your throat. Mickey sighed.

“I wanted to apologize, Y/N,” he murmured. He played with his fingers, pulled on his bracelet and sniffed lightly. He was nervous. You clenched your jaw. “The way we ended was… bad. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to end that way.” Then, he rolled his eyes. “I didn’t even want it to end, actually. It just happened.”

“What?” Your frowned deepened. “You didn’t want it to end? What the hell are you talking about, Mickey?”

“It was a misunderstanding!” He exclaimed. “Look, we got distant, yes. It was…” He exhaled harshly. He suddenly looked tired, like he was about to cry. “I have a kid,” he murmured. “A son. He’s six, and I’ve been trying to get his mother to let him see me. There were some legal shit I had to do, and then I learned that he got sick. I didn’t mean to get distant, but I did, I know my mistake.” Mickey lifted his head; his baby blue eyes were teary, and they looked earnest, soft and sad. You bit your lip. “I’m sorry for not telling you that I have a kid. I’m sorry for closing in and for getting distant.” He took a deep breath and stepped into your personal space. His fingers brushed your knuckles. “I’m sorry for letting you go. I should have stopped you, should’ve been honest to you. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You looked down at your hand where he was still brushing your knuckles with his fingers softly. Your chin was trembling, and there was no stopping your tears: They were running down freely. “Why…” You started but had to cut yourself and clear your throat. “Why would I believe you?”

Mickey nodded slowly. “You have every right to not believe me,” he agreed. “I can show you his pictures. The paperwork? I’ll do anything to get you to believe me, Y/N. I’ve never wanted what we had to end like this.” You sniffed.

“Picture,” you whispered. Mickey immediately reached for his phone and opened the gallery. He scrolled down a little and clicked on a picture, and then turned the screen to you.

“His name is Hector,” he said. You grabbed the phone, eyes already taking in the details.

The little boy had his hair. It was chestnut brown, fluffy and slightly curly. He had brown eyes, a cute nose and a chin dimple like Mickey’s. He was smiling in the picture, and you could see the resemblance. You smiled when you saw him wearing a Scooby-Doo t-shirt.

“He’s cute,” you murmured, handing him the phone. You watched his lips stretch wide for a smile as he, too, looked at the picture briefly. The love and adoration were obvious on his face, and fatherhood would look great on him, you thought. “Looks like you.” His smile widened.

“Yeah, his mother isn’t happy about it,” he grumbled and then rolled his eyes. You hummed. Mickey locked his phone and stuffed it into his pocket. “I’m sorry for not telling you about Hector earlier.” You shrugged. It had been years, you didn’t have the right to get mad.

“It’s fine,” you whispered. Sniffing, you looked around. “Go back to the party,” you told him. “Your girlfriend might be looking for you.” You ignored the slight venom your voice was carrying.

“Girlfriend?” Mickey said, grimacing. “I’m single.” You looked at him.

“No need to lie, Mick,” you murmured. “It’s fine if you have one.”

“But I don’t?” Mickey muttered something to himself. “Who told you that? Was it Rose?” Your eyes snapped at his, giving him the answer he was looking for. He laughed bitterly. “Your friend is into me. So, she’s keeping everyone away from me.” He shook his head like he couldn’t believe this was happening. “I rejected her a couple months ago, and since then she’s been a bitch to me.” Then, he gave you a side eye. “Sorry.” Shrugging again, you continued to look at him.

“Rose?” You asked. He nodded. You frowned for a couple seconds, and then rolled your eyes. “Fuck’s sake.” Mickey gave you a questioning look. “She was way too happy when I told her that we broke up.” He snorted. When you started walking slowly again, Mickey was quick to adapt your pace.

You walked on the beach for a while like that: Mutual and peaceful silence, calmness on the air now that each other’s presences’ were soothing you both in a way. You took deep breaths. You didn’t know what you were supposed to do with this new information that was dumped on you. You didn’t care that he had a son although you would have appreciated if he were to tell you while you were dating, but it was okay. You sighed.

“I wanna try again properly,” Mickey said, abruptly. “If that’s what you want, too, of course.” He gave you a small smile when you turned your head to look at him, shock etched on your features. “I never wanted it to end, I told you. I’m willing to try again and willing to make up all the pain I’ve caused unknowingly.” You turned to him.

“I’m scared,” you said, and you were. You were scared that you’d get hurt. The first months after your break up were the worst, and you didn’t want to go through those times ever again. With shaky hands, you held his ring clad ones. “Mickey, I’m scared.” He cooed at you.

“Ssshh,” he whispered. His arms were wrapped around you in a blink. “It’ll be okay. I’m gonna make sure of it.” You sniffed as you buried your face into his tank top. His arms were an anchor around you, a cage that made you feel safe. You took a deep breath, filling your lungs with his faint cologne. “I’m gonna make everything right this time. I promise.”

After a short while of silence, you heard him taking a deep breath.

“While we’re at being honest thing,” he murmured softly and slowly, like he didn’t want to ruin this moment. You frowned lightly, pulling back to look at his eyes. “There is someone else that I think you should meet.”

──

#mickey henry x reader #mickey henry imagines #mickey henry smut #mickey henry x you #mickey monday #mickey henry fanfiction #mickey henry fluff #mickey henry angst #mickey henry drabbles #once in a lifetime

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arrowflier · 3 years

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Prompt: Mickey apologizes to one of their neighbours for something that clearly wasn't his fault just to make Ian(who's in his people pleaser mode) happy. Later, Ian realises how Mickey was right all along and feels bad about the whole thing and they talk. Basically them having a mature convo at the end

Ian heard the shouting as soon as he stepped out into the courtyard. Mickey had come down earlier to take a quick dip, and Ian was hoping to join him and relax together for a while.

But based on the way his husband and one of their neighbors were yelling right then, that clearly wasn't in the cards.

Ian sighed, and closed his eyes briefly. Was it really too much to ask that Mickey get along with the people in their building? He didn't even have to make friends, he just had to not be an asshole to everyone he met.

A particularly loud shout--something about children, and language, and have some common decency--forced Ian out of his reflections and toward the apparent catastrophe that was Mickey in public.

“Dammit, Mickey,” he muttered under his breath as he rounded the last corner and brought the pool into view.

Sure enough, Mickey was there. He stood at the edge of the shallow end of the pool, like he had just hoisted himself out, water droplets still lingering on his sculpted arms and chest. His arms were raised and held out to the side in challenge as he blustered on about public space, and freedom of speech, and I’ll do you one worse lady, just you watch just inches away from a middle-aged woman that looked like she had stepped out of a lululemon ad.

Ian was pretty sure it was the same woman who had stopped him at the elevators last week to ask him to “keep it down up there”. They really didn’t need to cause more trouble with her; Mickey had them on thin ice already when his response to Ian relaying that request was to play loud, bass-thumping music while riding Ian into the floor for effect.

She hadn't met his eyes since.

"What's going on here?" Ian interrupted, coming up behind Mickey and settling a hand on the back of his husband's neck.

"This lady was tryin to--" Mickey cut off when Ian squeezed and released that hand in warning. Mickey glowered at him, but shut his mouth.

"Your husband," the woman said with a glare at Mickey, "was setting a bad example for my nephew."

Looking around for the aforementioned child, Ian sighed when he saw a little boy staring at them all from a pool lounger with wide eyes.

"We're sorry, Mrs...," he trailed off, but she didn't bother to fill in the blank for him, instead just raising her eyebrows and tapping her sandaled foot expectantly.

"Uh, anyway, it won't happen again," Ian finished awkwardly. "Right, Mick?"

"Are you kidding me, Gallagher?" Mickey asked, incredulous.

"I expect a direct apology from your husband," the woman demanded at the same time.

Ian raised his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, and gave Mickey a little shake when the other man didn't speak up.

"Come on, Mick, just do it," Ian muttered.

After a tense moment, Mickey did.

"Fucking fine," he hissed at Ian, ignoring their neighbor's sharp intake of breath at the curse. "I'm fucking sorry, alright?," he directed at her, before pulling out of Ian's hold to face him.

"You happy now?" he asked, before turning and stomping off to go inside.

The effect was dampened by the soft slapping sound of his bare feet hitting the pavement, leaving behind wet marks on the concrete. Ian and the woman watched him go with drastically different expressions: one with disgust, and one with concern.

"I do hope you'll keep your man in line better in the future," the woman groused at Ian, but he wasn't really listening.

"Yeah, sure," he answered absently. "Excuse me, I just gotta..."

And then he was scooping up the towel and shoes Mickey had left behind, and hurrying after his husband.

---

"Mickey?" Ian called out hesitantly as he entered their apartment. Other than a couple of damp patches on the floor, there was no sign of Mickey anywhere.

Then Ian heard the shower start, and set Mickey's things down next the door to follow the sound.

Mickey's wet trunks were pooled on the cold tile floor, the shower curtain pulled tight from wall to wall. The splash of water bouncing from flesh to the acrylic tub echoed through the room.

"Mickey?" Ian asked softly, taking a step past the open door. "Mick, you in here?"

He heard a snort over the sound of the water, the curtain moving as Mickey's arm jostled it from inside.

"No, it's your other husband, Sherlock," Mickey answered, an odd tone in his voice. "You know, the one you listen to before you take some random bitch's side."

Ian winced. Okay, Mickey was mad, then.

Moving further into the room, Ian closed the lid of the toilet and turned to sit on it, elbows on knees.

"Sorry," he offered briefly. "But she had a point Mick, there are kids here--"

The water stopped abruptly, and the curtain pulled back to reveal Mickey’s face. His hair flopped wetly over his forehead, water still sluicing down the middle of his face, and he scowled as he brushed it away with the back of a dripping hand.

“Kid, huh?” he questioned “So I need to go get my fucking tattoos removed because some random kid might see ‘em?”

Ian blinked.

“Wait,” he said slowly, mind trying to figure out what he was missing. “What?” then scoffed when Ian just watched him.

Mickey just scoffed.

“You don’t even know what she was yellin’ about, do you?” he asked rhetorically. “I didn’t say a damn word to her or that sniveling brat she brought with her,” he revealed. “They took one fucking look at me, saw the words on my knuckles, and off she went on her little fucking tirade.”

“Shit, Mickey,” Ian started, but Mickey wasn’t done.

“Don’t you act like it matters,” he growled. “You care more about playing nice than payin’ attention, and don’t pretend that after all these years you don’t still assume I’m always the fuckin’ problem.”

Fuck. Ian had really screwed this one up.

“Mickey,” he repeated, more firmly, standing and stepping closer to the shower. Ian took the shower curtain in one hand and tugged it further to the side. Mickey shivered in the influx of cool air, looking more like a disgruntled cat mid-bath than an angry man.

“Mickey,” Ian said again, softer, and stepped over the lip of the tub so that nothing was between them. He took Mickey into his arms, his husband putting up a token resistance before settling against him with a sigh.

“I’m sorry,” Ian whispered into his wet hair, ignoring the patches of water soaking through his clothes. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

Mickey hummed into his chest, not looking up. “You kind of did, though,” he mutters. “Every time somebody’s got a problem with me, you act like it’s my fault.”

Silence, for just a moment.

“Yeah,” Ian finally agreed, stroking a hand down Mickey’s bare back. “Yeah, I need to work on that.”

He pulled back, made Mickey meet his eyes. Mickey was no longer glaring, and his eyes were dry, but there was still something off about the way he met Ian’s gaze.

“You know I don’t really think that, though, right?” Ian asked, disheartened when Mickey didn’t offer a response.

“I don’t, Mickey,” he said earnestly. “I love you, and you’ve been trying so hard--”

“Shouldn’t fuckin’ have to try,” Mickey murmured, and oh.

“No, you shouldn’t,” Ian rephrased. “And I’m sorry I’m always making you feel like you do, too.”

Mickey moved back farther, and Ian’s arms dropped loosely back to his sides. His fingers itched to reach out again, but he got the feeling Mickey needed some space.

“Okay,” Mickey said. “Get outa here so I can finish.”

Ina obeyed, stepping out of the tub and moving toward the door, but he turned back before he left the room.

“When you’re done, come into the bedroom, alright?” he asked quietly. “I’ve got an idea to get back at that asshole woman.”

“Apology or not,” Mickey said wryly, “I don’t think I’m on the mood to fuck you right now, Ian.”

Ian just smirked.

“Not what I had in mind,” he said. “Now hurry it up, I think you’re gonna like my plan.”

---

About twenty minutes later, after the shower had started and stopped again and Mickey had had a moment to gather himself and get dressed, Mickey walked into the bedroom and stopped still.

Ian was sitting on their bed, fully dressed, but that wasn’t what had Mickey startled. No, it was the fact that right in front of him was a huge stereo with old school speakers, the ones that used to be downstairs in the communal lounge area, with Ian’s phone sitting right on top.

“What’s all this?” Mickey asked, and Ian grinned.

“So she doesn’t like profanity, huh?” he said. “Well I found a favorite new song.”

Mickey started to grin himself as he caught on to the plan. Ian stood and pushed one of the speakers a little closer to the vents in their floor, angling it so the sound would bounce right down into the apartment below. Then he tapped a few things on his phone, cranked the volume, and let harsh base and more expletives than Mickey had ever heard in a piece of music fill the room.

Mickey laughed. Ian held out a hand, like he was asking for a dance, and turned the music up even louder.

Shaking his head at his husband’s antics, Mickey took the proffered hand, and let Ian spin him to the sound of their bitchy neighbor losing her mind below them.

#daily speedwrite #gallavich #fanfic #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #misunderstandings #fight and make up

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ja3minz · 4 years

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warnings. fem!reader, voyeurism, public fingering, light humiliation and manipulation kink, finger sucking. ment. jeno, renjun, hyuck.

this was wrong.

this was so very wrong, and you knew it. there was this churning feeling in the pit of your stomach, a stinging sensation in the base of your thumbs that told that you were doing something terribly immoral.

well...you weren’t the one doing it. technically.

the metaphorical devil on your shoulder tried to reason, and you made a small, annoyed noise to yourself. two long fingers had practically made their home inside of your core; index stroking your sensitive bundle of nerves slowly but it was still enough to put you in a haze.

you squeezed your thighs shut, puffs of hot breath leaving your lips in quick succession. the culprit only hummed in response, a shameless grin spreading over his face, brown eyes glinting with what could only be described as playful defiance. na jaemin had you exactly where he wanted you.

“you’re doing so good, sweetheart.” jaemin whispered, his head buried in the crook of your neck. “such pretty little noises you’re making for me.”

you whined in response, and you sounded so meek and submissive; you hated it. you never once in your wildest dreams thought that jaemin of all people, the boy who just a day ago was happily introducing himself to your parents, would be the one to have you in such a predicament. cuddled up on the couch with him, a throw blanket rested over both of you, while jeno and renjun sat mere inches away from you.

there was a part of you that remembered growing up with nct dream, watching them walk their path to achieving their dreams of becoming idols. you remembered meeting jeno and jaemin back when they were in the mickey mouse club, all of you in the same age range with goals of making it big.

so, the fact that you were inside of their dorms being fingered by their best friend and bandmate while they were supposed to be watching movies almost felt sacrilegious.

but you didn’t dare tell jaemin to stop.

so he continued, index finger lazily massaging your soaking wet core as if nothing was happening. he even managed to keep a straight face, staring at the screen and turning to crack jokes with jeno every so often. he wasn’t even blushing! how the hell was that fair at all?

you were filled with so much shame, and yet at the same time the thrill of being touched so explicitly right in front of people made your heart race.

every time his fingers would dip to gather some of your essence, teasing at your begging hole, it would take every ounce of you not to scream. you wanted to drop to your knees and beg him to just fuck you stupid, right in front of everyone. you wanted him to go faster, you wanted his mouth on you, you wanted his hands all over you.

goddamnit, you just wanted to cum.

“nngh...t-tease…” you mumbled, furrowing your eyebrows in frustration. jaemin only chuckled softly in response, other hand rested on your thigh; fingers drawing patterns over the expanse of it. “but you sound so cute.” he giggled against your ear, kissing your cheek. “you’re so good for me, doll, you’re doing so good.”

to the naked eye, jaemin was just being overly affectionate. which was in his nature truly, so jeno and renjun didn’t bat an eyelash at him canoodling with you the way he was. if only they knew what magic his fingers were working underneath that throw blanket.

“should i let you cum right here? hm?”

panic began to rise through your chest as jaemin picked up his speed, he kept an eye on his friends, index finger rubbing your clit in quick circles; or as quick as he could do without getting caught. you dug your fingers into the flesh of his arm, whimpering softly as you shut your eyes to try to focus. you were trying your absolute best not to let your thighs tremble, but it was useless at this point.

“jaem, no...n-not here. please, not here.” you pleaded with him, voice a broken whisper. jaemin hummed, his middle finger slipping inside of you before you could stop him.

you inhaled sharply, which caused jeno and renjun to turn to look at you. “you okay?” renjun tilted his head at you and you scrambled to come up with an excuse, nodding your head rigorously.

“yeah! i’m okay! i, uh. i just...accidentally scratched myself too hard. g-gotta cut my nails later.”

renjun narrowed his eyes at you for a moment before nodding, seemingly buying it, and you felt like your heart was gonna come tumbling out of your ass at any minute.

jaemin giggled again, nibbling on your earlobe. “nice save, baby. you’re adapting well.” he teased, and you were so angry you wanted to scream. as a ‘reward’ he curled his middle finger inside of you and you were losing your mind.

you bit down on your lip so hard it hurt, head falling and resting on his chest. “please...please please please please…” you whispered.

“shh shh. c’mon, baby, you can handle it.” jaemin whispered into your ear. “you’re doing so good. so good, my baby, you’re gonna earn your orgasm. i’ll make you feel so good.”

you bit back another whimper, eyes falling shut again as you tried to calm yourself as best as you could. you felt like one more prod was going to send you right over the edge. “nana...i c-can’t…”

“you can.”

jaemin’s voice was dark and demanding, and it made you shiver. “sit still.”

minutes went by, and they felt like hours. the movie had finished and the boys had a long conversation about how boring it was for it to have been a horror movie; you were unable to contribute much as you weren’t paying much attention to it to begin with.

the plan was to order food and watch something significantly better, which in jeno’s mind was some obscure murder mystery he had found on netflix. jeno had left to go to the bathroom, renjun getting up to make popcorn and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“jaem, for fuck’s sake.” you finally burst out, whimpering and whining as you buried your face in his chest. “you’re so fucking mean, i hate you.”

jaemin laughed as he slid a second finger into you, surveying the area and making sure the coast was clear before curling both fingers and ramming them into you with such speed you were sure you were going to pass out. after at least an hour of slow teasing, the sudden onslaught of pleasure was almost over stimulating. you threw your head back, eyebrows furrowing and eyes crossing while your thighs instinctively shut around his hand. it was too much for you, so much that you began to try and squirm away from him only to have jaemin give your thighs a firm slap.

“keep them open.”

“n-no, you’re gonna...m-make me…”

“that’s the plan.” jaemin glanced up again, making sure to keep a lookout. “if you don’t cum before they get back, you’re gonna have to wait another hour or more. possibly until they fall asleep, which could take all night. you’re very impatient so i know you don’t want that.”

oh, god you hated time limits.

you were sure you had, at best, 30 seconds or less before jeno or renjun returned. the last thing you wanted was to be caught mid orgasm by either of them. what would they think of you? their friend reduced to some disgusting little whore being fingered on their expensive couch?

something about that turned you on so much more, though. the adrenaline of trying not to be caught, chasing your orgasm as fast as you could. “you’d better hurry…” jaemin sounded almost sing-songy in your ear, fingers still fucking into you at speed your brain couldn’t comprehend. with the palm of his hand rubbing against your clit, you were melting into his arms.

you stuffed your fingers into your mouth in a feeble attempt to keep yourself quiet enough that they wouldn’t hear but your poor brain was fried, all you could think of was jaemin and how good his fingers felt inside of you.

‘fuck, i have to cum now. i need it, i need it so bad. they’re gonna see me, fuck. oh, god, they’re going to catch me. this is so fucked, they’ll never see me the same if they catch me. they’ll think im such a slut, i have to hurry!’

suddenly your jaw went slack, the burning knot in the pit of your stomach finally unraveling. there was an explosion of white, followed by splotches of every other color in the rainbow as you convulsed in his arms. you found yourself biting down on jaemin’s collarbone as you hid your face in the crook of his neck trying not to scream while he cooed in your ear.

“theeere she is. that’s my girl, i knew you could do it. i knew you could hold out for me, baby. fuck, you’re so beautiful, that’s it. thaaat’s it, fuck my hand. god, you’re amazing.”

you whined desperately, trying to push his arm away as he continued to rub at your over sensitive clit. your chest was heaving, tears clinging to the corners of her eyes and then you heard footsteps. jeno had returned first.

he sighed, sliding his phone back into his pocket before glancing around the room; locking eyes with you. you looked out of breath, panting in jaemin’s arms while he smiled down at you with a loving look in his eyes. “what the fuck are you two doing?” he asked bluntly with a laugh.

you startled, giggling nervously out of instinct. had he seen you? did he know what was going on?

“i showed her this funny video donghyuck sent me.” jaemin answered calmly, removing his fingers from their warm spot inside of you. “she started doing that thing where she laughs until she cries.”

god, he’s way too good at this.

you lifted a hand to wipe your tears and gave another giggle, playing along with his story. “the stupidest shit makes me laugh, it’s really awful.”

jeno scoffed a small laugh, falling down on the couch. “yeah, tell me about it. your humor’s so fucked, one weird sound and you’re giggling about it for weeks.”

‘home safe. god, how did i get out of this.’ you thought as he and jaemin delved into a conversation of stupid memes and how weird the internet’s humor had become.

renjun returned with popcorn and the food jeno had ordered, giving jaemin the chance to fully retrieve his hand as they had their backs turned. “messy girl.” he whispered to you, smirking as he showed you his two fingers coated in your juices.

you felt like your face was on fire, watching him dramatically encase his own fingers within his mouth; licking your cum clean off them before turning to grab the ramen he had ordered as if nothing had happened.

you started incredously at the back of his head, in utter shock at just how brazen your boyfriend truly is. you hated that you weren’t sure if you could control yourself the next time you were left alone with him. you were half considering taking him to the bathroom to take his cock into your mouth and give him a taste of his own medicine.

you decided to keep your composure, though. trembling hands reaching for the peach flavored drink you ordered while jaemin practically burst with pride when renjun began to tease you for your shaking hands.

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depressedstressedlemonzest · 2 years

Text

“What are we supposed to bring to the cookout?” Mickey asked Ian as they wandered the aisle at the store.

Carl had invited them to a cookout at the Alibi granted they bring something to serve.

“I told Carl that we could bring some barbeque ribs and some chips or something.” Ian replied absentmindedly picking up some disposable aluminum cooking pans.

“And do you know how to barbeque ribs?” Mickey raised an eyebrow at his husband. Though he meant well sometimes he would jump into things without thinking them completely through first.

“I found a recipe, now we just need the right cut of meat and some seasonings for it. And if we want to make our own barbeque sauce we’ll need ketchup and Worcestershire sauce.” Ian was looking at the little recipe ingredients listed on his phone that he had found on Pinterest earlier.

“Right well I’ll go grab the meat, you go look at seasonings and I’ll meet you there.” Mickey offered letting Ian take the cart and he stepped in the direction of the meat department.

“See if you can get beef ribs instead of pork.” Ian gave Mickey a peck on the cheek before they parted ways.

Ian made his way to the seasoning aisle and was looking at his list and the recipe to double check what they needed, as well as looked for anything new they could stock their spice rack with.

Mickey found a good pack of ribs that were already on sale, he grabbed four packs of them and headed back to the aisle where Ian had gone.

Plopping the meat in the cart he looked at Ian, his face scrunched up and his brow furrowed as he concentrated trying to find the right spices.

“What are you lookin for?” Mickey asked gently trying to peek over Ian’s shoulder at the list on his phone.

“Looking for spices to make a dry rubs to marinate them in.” Ian’s voice was frustrated as he kept glancing from his phone to the rows of spices as if rereading the name of the spice would make it jump out at him better.

“Here I’ll help, what ones can’t you find?” Mickey asked falling into place next to Ian, his eyes scanning the little display.

“Need ground mustard and smoked red paper flakes.” Ian muttered grabbing a spice container and lookin at it closely.

“Ground mustard.” Mickey repeated again and again as his eyes searched the shelves.

Ian would surreptitiously grab different shakes and sniff it. put it back, huff in annoyance, then grab another shaker aned repeat.

Mickey was scanning the shelves when his eyes brightened as he came across a spice he hadn’t seen, and more importantly Ian hadn’t seen.

He grabbed the spice and came up behind Ian, one hand grabbing the new spice, the other hand cupping and giving Ian’s ass a squeeze.

“How about this one?” He asked wiggling the shaker in front of Ian’s face as he gave his ass another grip.

Ian looked angry at first at Mickey’s antics, then he looked at the spice shaker Mickey was wiggling in his face. Ian rolled his eyes and tried to ignore Mickey, but the wiggling of the spice in his face and the grab assing made Ian look at the spice, then burst into laughter.

Mickey smiled at Ian’s reaction, he knew that he would get a laugh from Ian out of the spice.

“I love you.” Ian breathed turning to look at Mickey, grinning at him widely.

“I love you too.” Mickey smiled, reaching on his tiptoes to plant a kiss on Ian’s forehead/

Ian took the spice from Mickey and tossed it into the cart,

“Alright, let’s get going, we’re almost done.” Ian said turning and kissing Mickey on the forehead.

Mickey grinned, “Alright Red, lead the way, you know I’ll follow you anywhere.”

#I saw this spice at the grocery store and BOOM Gallavich #Mickey lives for moments when he can pull puns out on Ian #Ian is always getting him #but now i's mickey's turn #I'd write more but I keep falling asleep #so instead of rows of the same letter and jibberish #you get this cute little ficlet #gallavich #Ian Gallagher #Mickey Milkovich #shameless #gallavich ficlet

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heyyyharry · 3 years

Text

Deep End - Chapter 4: Royal Ball

…in which Ezi causes trouble at the Styles' manor.

Word count: 6.1k

AU: famous!harry, siren!mc, adult modern retelling of the little mermaid? lol, fake dating, enemies to lovers.

WARNING: MATURE THEMES, ASSAULT.

All chapters / Synopsis / Moodboard / Playlist

Wattpad link

A/N: Please let me know what you think. I need feedback to feel motivated. Also, what do you expect to happen in the next chapter?

When Harry came to the guest room this morning and couldn’t find Ezi, he had hoped that something had happened overnight, and she’d magically returned to where she’d come from, and he, at last, could have his old life back. But no. He was immensely disappointed to find her sitting cross-legged on the edge of his pool, just staring blankly at the water like she was in a sad music video. What did he expect? It wasn’t like she could grow some wings to fly all the way home.

“Good morning!”

Ezi flinched at the sound of his voice. She pulled her feet out of the water and frantically stood up as Harry approached.

He held out his hand to ask her to stay. “It’s okay. You can use the pool. I rarely go swimming anyway.”

Ezi’s brows furrowed slightly as she tucked a strand behind her ear and stared anxiously at the blue water. “How can you swim in this pond? It smells funny.”

“It’s not a pond. It’s a swimming pool. There’s chemicals in it; that’s why it smells like that.”

Ezi cocked her head, seemingly confused. “Why you gotta make your own pond and put chemicals in it? Why do humans have to make their own versions of everything that’s already available in nature?”

“It’s cleaner and safer to swim in pools,” Harry pointed out.

Ezi couldn’t look more offended by his remark. “The ocean was clean before you trashed it with your chemicals.”

“I didn’t trash the ocean,” Harry corrected, pointing to his chest. “How many times do I have to tell you that I’m not responsible for environmental pollution?”

Ezi folded her arms and glared at him. “Why are you afraid of the ocean?”

“You’re literally a killing machine.”

“You people make machines that shoot fire and blow up each other’s ships, and yet we’re the killing machines.”

“Well, the ocean is scary anyway. It’s deep and dark.”

“It’s literally water,” argued Ezi. “Water is the driving force of all nature, and you’re afraid of it.”

“Forget it.” Harry exhaled as he tossed his hands in the air. “I can never win an argument with you.”

“Good,” Ezi said with a slight shrug.

“Anyway.” Harry rolled his eyes. “Come inside for breakfast. I have something to discuss with you while you eat.”

“Your maid brought you something this morning,” Ezi said when Harry was about to walk away.

Slowly, he turned back to face her with his eyebrows raised. “Who?”

“Your maid,” she said with a straight face. “The girl with green hair. I think she brought you some clothes and put them in the room next to mine.”

“That’s Amy, my assistant!” cried Harry as he gripped his own hair. “You two didn’t have a conversation, right? Please tell me you didn’t call her a maid to her face!”

Ezi looked rather amused when she saw how distressed Harry was. How could she be smiling? He wouldn’t be the only one who’d be in trouble if her identity was revealed. Fuck that. What if the government found out that he was keeping her here and locked him up, too? Was it a crime to keep a mythical creature in your house? Could he be executed for that?

“No,” Ezi calmly said while Harry could feel the blood draining from his face. “She just brought you some clothes and left. Though I could barely see her face, she didn’t seem very friendly.”

Harry pressed a palm to his chest, feeling his heart thundering as he let out a sigh of half-formed relief. Once he’d regained his composure, he told Ezi, “Amy is friendly to everyone. Maybe it’s just you.”

Ezi didn’t look at all bothered by that. She shrugged. “I’m not here to make friends. I don’t care if Amy likes me.”

Harry found it funny that one moment she could look and talk like a human girl with human feelings, and the next she acted as cold as the ocean she’d come from. But she was right. They weren’t friends, and there was no reason for them to be more than just civilised to one another.

“You sure you didn’t talk to Amy?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Good,” Harry nodded. “Come inside. The food’s getting cold.”

It seemed like Ezi got hungry very quickly. She finished the hard scrambled eggs Harry had made for her and even asked him for more. Harry didn’t mind feeding her. It was better to keep her full. After all, she had shown him her predator side, and he’d prefer to never see it again.

“So what’s something you want to tell me?” she asked with her mouth full while stuffing it more with another big bite.

Chilli was sitting at Ezi’s feet, staring up at her as a way of asking for a taste, but Ezi just ignored the cat and continued to enjoy her breakfast.

Harry knitted his hands on the table and straightened his back as he began, “Well, I actually wanted to ask you for a favour.”

Ezi stopped chewing immediately. She swallowed hard, her face contorted. “I’m not doing you a favour.”

“You don’t even know what it is.”

“But I already know that I don’t want to do it.”

“Of course you want to do it.”

“No, I don’t!”

Harry sucked in a breath and held up a finger to stop her from interrupting him again. “I promise you’ll like this. Just hear me out.”

Ezi folded her arms in front of her chest and pouted like an angry little girl as she sank into her chair.

Harry’s lips curled into a smile. “You like those Disney movies, right?”

Ezi nodded, and Harry watched in content as the line between her brows eased.

“Good. So what if I tell you that you can be a Disney princess for one night.”

“What do you mean?” Ezi frowned again as she sat up straight. “Are you messing with me?”

Harry shook his head. “No, I’m being dead serious. I’ll take you to a ball.”

“A ball?”

“Yeah. I’m invited to a royal ball that’s held in a real ballroom, like the one in Beauty and the Beast.”

He would’ve said Cinderella, but she hadn’t watched it yet. It would’ve been a better reference. Still, Ezi’s eyes lit up when she heard about the ball. “Like...in a castle?”

“Y-Yeah.” Harry worked up a bright smile as he nodded fast. “A castle.” To be fair, his mother’s manor was as huge as a castle. It was twice the size of his house, so that’d be more than enough to convince the naive siren.

“Do I get to wear a pretty dress?”

“Yeah. Who do you think the clothes Amy brought here are for?”

The realisation washed over Ezi’s face, and her mouth fell open in shock as she slammed her hands on the table, rattling the silverware and startling Chilli. “You’re not messing with me?”

“No.”

She bit her lip and arched an eyebrow. “What’s the favour then?”

“That’s the favour -- You going to the ball with me,” Harry said. “It’s tomorrow night.”

“What’s in it for you?”

“Nothing, to be honest,” Harry said with a weak shrug. “Maybe getting back in my mother’s good graces. She’s hosting the ball, and so many people are invited.”

“Is she the Queen?”

“No, but she thinks she is.”

“So she’s like my sister Koa.”

Harry chuckled at how serious Ezi looked when she said that. “Well, maybe not as bad as your sister. My mother loves me.”

Ezi pursed her lips as she focused on fidgeting with the fork in her hand. Harry leaned forward on the table. “So?” he asked. “Can you help me?”

Ezi blew out her cheeks as she locked eyes with him again. “Fine,” she said. “Not because I want to help you, though. I just want to go to a ball.”

“Good enough for me.” Harry smiled.

While Ezi continued eating, Harry gave her a few rules that she would have to follow when they arrived at his family’s event. He could not risk having her interact with anyone without his supervision. He’d nearly had a heart attack when he heard that she’d met his assistant when he wasn’t there. He was sure that Amy had only assumed Ezi was another girl Harry regularly hooked up with. Money didn’t really matter to him, so he usually spoiled his friends and the girls he fucked. However, he couldn’t risk having anyone find out that Ezi was actually living here.

When Ezi finished eating, Harry went upstairs to get the bath ready. He’d have to figure out a way to give Ezi a bath without having to touch her. How would she feel about hot water, though? His cat Chilli always left at least one or two scratches on his legs and his shirt whenever he tried to give her a bath. He could imagine Ezi doing the same.

“Hey.”

Harry whipped his head to the bathroom door and found Ezi standing there in his joggers and Mickey Mouse t-shirt that flowed down to her thighs. He must admit that she looked cute when she wasn’t frowning or roasting him. If only she’d lost her voice like Ariel did in the movie.

“Stop staring at me, human!”

Exactly his point.

Sighing, Harry got up from the edge of the bathtub. “We’ll let the water run,” he told her. “In the meantime, I’ll show you your new clothes.”

Ezi said nothing and followed him down the hall to his walk-in closet. It was actually a room with big windows, a shiny tiled floor, and white-cushioned sofas. Harry took a deep breath of the comforting perfumed air only to see Ezi covering her mouth and nose with her palm.

“It smells weird in here,” she complained.

“Just like living with my mum,” Harry whispered to himself. To her, he said, “Speaking of smells.”

Ezi looked horrified as Harry leaned in and started sniffing her.

“Why don’t you smell?” he asked, stepping back.

Her eyes went wide. “Am I supposed to?”

“Well, yeah.” He nodded. “You literally came from the ocean. No offence but...you’re supposed to smell fishy.”

“Do humans say no offence before they offend you?”

“Yeah, pretty much. Or maybe I’m just blunt because I’m British. Anyway,” Harry sucked in a breath, “it’s weird that you don’t smell. You don’t have a smell at all. When you first came on land, I could still smell a bit of the ocean on you, but now you don’t smell, and you haven’t showered.”

Ezi shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s not like I could ask my mother why her curse didn’t give me a smell.”

“True.” Harry sighed. “Anyway. That’s good. Don’t want no fishy-smelling girl walking around my house.”

“I will scoop out your eyeballs right now.”

“Just kidding.” Harry chuckled. “But please don’t do that.”

“I’ll try.” Ezi put her hands on her hips and swept her eyes around the room. “Why do you have so many clothes?”

“They make me look good. I’m a public figure, so I care about my appearance.”

“Maybe you should focus on fixing what’s inside you and not your appearance.”

“I like you better when you don’t talk,” Harry said, then brushed past her to grab the Chanel shopping bag Amy had left on the white marble counter. He pulled out a sparkling silver slip dress and held it up to show Ezi. “This is for you. It comes with a pair of high heels. I’ll definitely have to teach you to walk in them, but baby steps.”

Ezi took the dress with both hands and was being as careful as possible as if she was afraid she might rip it. Although she didn’t let it show, he could make out the excitement in the way her eyes twinkled. He’d made sure to ask for a dress that looked similar to the one Ariel had worn in The Little Mermaid when she’d come from the ocean.

“Before you try this on,” he said when Ezi lifted her bright blue eyes up to him. “Repeat what I told you earlier.”

Ezi clutched the dress to her chest and glanced up at the ceiling. A line appeared between her brows as she recited Harry’s words, “Do not talk to anyone there unless you ask me to. Never leave your side. If I have questions, ask you in private. Um...what else? Oh! Avoid your mother at all costs.”

Harry nodded. “My mother and Dawson.”

“Who’s Dawson?”

“You’ll know.” With a sigh, Harry thrust his hands into his pockets. “Now, I’ll leave you here to change. I could only guess your measurements, so if it doesn’t fit, we can have it fixed as soon as possible.”

“Measurements?” Ezi looked down at her body, confused.

Harry cleared his throat and waved his hand at her. “Just hurry up and change. Let me know when you’re done.”

“Wait!”

“What?”

With a cute little pout, she asked, “Can you put it on me?”

Harry was shocked for a second when he heard that, but then he remembered that Ezi had never worn a dress before, let alone one with so many...strings.

“Here.” He took the dress from her and tried his best to demonstrate. “So this is the front. This is the back. This string goes over your right shoulder–No, wait, your left. Wait, is it? Hold on. Fuck.”

Ezi breathed out a laugh and covered her mouth with her hands, making Harry glare at her. “Fine,” he huffed. “I’ll help you put it on.”

“Good.”

Before Harry could even say a word, Ezi pulled his oversized t-shirt that she was wearing over her head, and Harry let out the most inhuman scream as he looked away and covered his eyes. She was naked underneath his shirt. Completely naked.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chanted into his palm when he heard the sound of the shirt falling to the floor.

“What is it?” Ezi asked.

“Oh, God.” Harry shrugged her hand away as she tried to take his.

“Why are you being weird?” She giggled as if she wasn’t standing fully naked in front of him. “You’ve seen me without clothes, and I’ve seen you,” she said.

“Fuck. I know that.” He exhaled. “But…” Harry stopped and took a deep breath. With one hand over his eyes, he calmly told her, “You need lingerie.”

“Ooooh. I learned this word today from a movie,” Ezi said with confidence. “Laundry means–”

“No, not laundry.” Harry sighed. “Lingerie.”

“Huh?”

“Okay, you know what? Put the shirt back on. I’ll return with more clothes for you.”

“More clothes?” Ezi cried with frustration as Harry turned his back to her. He heard her put the shirt on, and she tapped him on the shoulder when she was done. “I hate being humans,” she complained, looking cross. “Clothes are so uncomfortable.”

“I know, right?” Harry chuckled and patted her on the head. He liked seeing her face scrunch up whenever he did that, because he knew that she couldn’t harm him. “Be a good siren and stay here. I’ll be right back.”

“And help me put on clothes?”

He sighed and turned away. “I will.”

“And launderey?”

The question stopped Harry at the door. He pinched his eyes shut and pressed a fist to his forehead. “Yes.” He let go of a defeated long breath. “That, too.”

Harry managed to find a brand new pair of underwear in his bedroom drawer. It was an embarrassing story, but he’d bought it as a gift for a girl he used to sleep with, then he found out she’d been lying to him about not having a boyfriend when she’d already been engaged. So now he just happened to have a set of new lingerie lying in his drawer.

“I don’t know if this would fit, but I’ll get you new ones tomorrow.” Harry froze in the doorway when he found his closet empty. “Chili, where’s the crazy girl?” he asked his black cat, who didn’t even bother to reply as she kept licking her little paw. Ugh, lucky for her, she was cute.

“Ezi! Where are you?!” Harry shouted as he padded down the hall.

“I’m here!” Ezi shouted back, her voice echoing from the bathroom.

It was only then that Harry remembered he’d left the water running, but when he got there, he found Ezi sitting in the bubble bath with a bright smile on her face; his joggers and Mickey Mouse t-shirt had been discarded on the floor.

He leaned a shoulder against the doorframe, arms crossed, smiling at her.

“I love this room!” she exclaimed, gathered bubbled in her palms and blew at them.

So, Harry was wrong. She liked warm baths.

“Water was spilling out, so I turned it off and gave myself a bath,” she told him.

“You know how?”

“I saw Ariel take a bath in the movie.”

Her response made him laugh. “Wow, you learn so much from Disney films.”

Ezi folded her arms on the edge of the tub as Harry sat down on it beside her. She glanced up at him, chin on her arm. It would be a lie to say Harry didn’t feel anything watching her covered in soap and naked in his bathtub. The steam made him sweat, dampening his shirt as it stuck to his skin. He wasn’t a sex addict or anything, but he’d been so stressed out lately and hadn’t been able to find a release with his unpaid babysitting job. It wouldn’t be a problem if Ezi’s human form wasn’t so attractive.

“Stop doing that,” Ezi’s voice pulled him back to reality.

He blinked at her. “Doing what?”

“You sometimes stare at me without saying anything.”

He pressed his lips into a smirk. “Aren’t you a clever girl? Just read my mind.”

“Can’t.” She shrugged while unconsciously spreading the bubbles across the edge of the tub. “Even if I could, I wouldn’t want to know what’s going on in that dirty little head of yours?”

The way she’d said it without the intention of making it flirty was so funny to Harry.

“Your head is dirty and little,” he teased.

“No. Yours.”

“Yours.”

“Your head can literally fit between my palms,” said Harry as he cupped the sides of her heads to demonstrate. For the first time, Ezi burst out laughing and tried to shove him off. He didn’t let go of her, and they kept pushing back and forth until Harry lost his balance and fell headfirst into the tub.

The water splashed all over. When Harry realised what had happened, he found himself kneeling in the water between Ezi’s legs. Frantically, he pushed away, but the tub was so slippery that he landed back down on his butt. Laughter crackled out of Ezi as Harry managed to escape from the sticky situation and grabbed a towel to cover himself with. Most of the water had spilt outside the tub, revealing Ezi’s soapy breasts, which gave Harry an instant boner.

He grabbed another towel and held it up and open as he ordered. “Bathtime’s over. Get out.”

“You’re such an idiot,” Ezi said, still laughing as she stood up and let him wrap the towel around her body.

Harry frowned at her playful grin. “You’re the idiot,” he said, but his face was red. “Rinse yourself. I’ll wait.”

Then he waddled out of the bathroom, quietly cursing himself.

To not make the same mistake, Harry taught Ezi how to put on underwear by having her put it on over her clothes first, then letting her do it herself when he wasn’t there. She was a fast learner, so it didn’t take long until she’d learned how to put on clothes and tie her shoes. He could now imagine how hard it must be for single parents to raise a kid all by themselves. He was lucky that he didn’t have to work this week and could stay home to take care of Ezi. But starting from next week, he would have to go back to his busy celebrity life, and Ezi living with him would become a bigger problem than he’d expected. He could only hope that her mother would just take her back before the following Monday. It didn’t seem possible, though. He should never have brought her to London.

Anyway, first things first.

He’d have to get through his mother’s event without anyone suspecting a thing, and then he’d try to figure out what he should do next.

This was why he didn’t want kids. At least Ezi had common sense.

“Hey, there will be so many humans tonight at the ball. What if one of them triggers me? I can’t even threaten them?”

Forget what he’d just said.

“No, you’re not allowed to threaten anyone,” he told her from outside her room and blew out his cheeks as he checked his watch. “Hurry up. Our ride is almost here.”

The door was pulled open. Ezi emerged in her sparkling silver dress with her hair in a messy bun and subtle makeup but enough to accentuate her unique features. Harry didn’t know he was gawking until she gave him a playful smack on the cheek to bring him back to Earth. He blinked and caught her big round eyes. The silvery glitter on her eyelids made the blue in her eyes stand out even more. A sudden chill rushed down his spine as he squared his shoulders and fixed his black tie. “Y-You did your hair and makeup?”

Ezi nodded enthusiastically. “The girl in the magic board taught me!”

“You were watching those makeup tutorials?”

Harry swore he had never seen her so happy. She smiled so big that her eyes crinkled at the corners. “Thank you for that board, by the way.”

“It’s an iPad. But you’re welcome.”

Yes, he’d got her an iPad so she could watch YouTube videos and play dumb games and not be all up in his business. He was a single dad now. First to Chilli. Now to Ezi.

“An iPad,” Ezi mumbled to herself. He thought it was cute how her eyebrows would furrow every time she learned a new word and tried to memorise it.

Realising that he was about to simp, Harry shook off those pleasant thoughts about the fish girl and put on a nonchalant expression as he looked down at her white ballerina flats. He’d got her a nice pair of high heels to wear with this dress, but she’d kept falling and broken a vase in the living room, so he’d given up and got her these flats instead. Well, as long as she was comfortable and still looked cute and appropriate.

“Ready?” he asked her.

She took a deep breath; determination lit up her eyes. “Ready.”

“Hold on.” He held her shoulder, took a nice look at her, then let down two strands from her bun, so they nicely framed her face. “Better.” He smiled and pinched her cheek. “You look like someone I would date.”

As expected, Ezi responded to his compliment with a frown and smacked his hand away. “Touch my face again, and I’ll make sure you won’t be able to touch anything again.” Then she shoved past him and hurried down the stairs.

Ezili felt ashamed.

She had been looking forward to the ball tonight. She’d been so excited that she’d stayed up to watch those...what did Harry call them again? Oh, makeup tutorials. Just to look like those human girls with sparkling eyelids. The mermaids back home would be so impressed, but her mother certainly wouldn’t. She didn’t even want to imagine her mother’s reaction to her look tonight.

Harry had pointed out that human Ezili didn’t have a smell. In an animal kingdom, the signature smell set those animals apart from the other kinds and acted as proof that they were a part of a community, that they belonged. Human Ezili not having a smell was a reminder from her mother that she was not a siren right now, but she was not human either, and so she should finish her mission as soon as possible to return to the sea and be with her kind.

Ezili could not be distracted from her mission anymore. Harry had invited her to the ball, which meant there was no competition for her at this point. She was already making progress being the only female in his radar. Tonight, she hoped the romantic atmosphere of the ball would make him fall in love with her.

With her arm around his, they ascended the red-carpeted stairs of the castle leading to the ballroom. Ezili was amazed by the guests in fancy attires and expensive decorations sparkling silver and gold. The ballroom was impressive, with crystal chandeliers spiralling down from the arching sky-blue ceiling, illuminating the glimmering walls and a floor so polished it looked like a frozen winter lake.

Harry said their names to a servant at the door, and he bowed to Harry and Ezili as if they were royalty. Ezili didn’t show it, but she enjoyed being treated like the princess she knew she was.

“Finally, someone showing respect to me,” she mumbled as they followed the other guests inside.

Harry laughed at her remark. “I respect you.”

“You don’t even respect yourself,” she said, glaring at him.

“Can you just not insult me tonight? You’re pretending to be my date.”

“What’s a date?”

“Like...lovers,” Harry said, flicking his eyes around like the prey trying to spot a predator.

She thought she should calm him down, so she squeezed his forearm and said, “Do you wanna dance?”

Harry shook his head. “No, not the time.”

Confused, Ezili’s eyes followed Harry’s worried gaze to the lady in a seaweed coloured dress that fanned out at her feet. She was beautiful, with features resembling Harry's. That must be Harry’s mother -- the host of the ball.

“Remember what I told you,” Harry said, squeezing Ezili’s cold hands. “Do not say a word to my--Mother!”

“Oh, my darling son, you came!”

Harry let go of Ezili to hug his mother. The woman pulled away and turned to Ezili with the same dimpled smile as her son’s. “Ahh, this must be Ezili,” she said, and Ezili shook her hands like how humans did in movies.

“Yes.” Harry cleared his throat as he laced his fingers with Ezili’s. “This is my date -- Ezili Hans.”

His mother smiled at him. “I was afraid you were gonna bring Niall with a wig.”

“Didn’t work the last time,” Harry said. “Never do it again.”

Harry’s mother laughed before turning back to Ezili. “It’s so nice to meet you. You may call me Mrs Styles, or Annalise. What do you think about this event?”

Ezili flicked her helpless gaze to Harry, who quickly spoke on her behalf, “She thinks it’s great. Very s-shiny.” Seeing Annalise’s smile vanished, Harry added, “Sore throat. The doctor says she has to stay silent for a week. Also, do you mind if I show her around and introduce her to the other guests?”

“Wait, but we haven’t--”

“Love you, Mum.”

Harry pecked his mother on the cheek, grabbed Ezili’s hand and pulled her with him. They finally made it outside to the garden’s fountain, where the guests were chatting in groups and sipping on wine. Harry released Ezili’s hand and exhaled through his mouth. “That was scary.”

“That was awful!” She hit him on the arm. “You almost blew our covers.”

“I know. I’m always anxious around my mum,” he said, looking distressed. “When I was little, she could always tell when I was lying.”

“Maybe you’re not a good liar.”

“Not as good as you,” he chuckled, putting his hands on his hips. “You know what? Changing plans. You’re allowed to talk, but just say simple things like ‘hello’, ‘how are you?’, ‘it’s wonderful’, bla bla.”

Ezili nodded. “Got it.”

Harry opened his mouth to say something else but suddenly froze; his eyes went wide. “Shit, that’s Aunt Beatrice.” Ezili looked over her shoulder to see a chubby late laughing with a group of people and being the loudest. “Super annoying,” Harry said. “Everyone in my family hates her.” He turned to Ezili and patted her on the shoulder. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

“Let me come with you.”

“Not when I’m talking to Satan. I mean, Aunt Beatrice. Just stay here and don’t talk to anyone.”

“But--”

Harry already left.

Ezili muttered curses at him under her breath. She had no choice but to sit by the fountain and wait for him to return. She saw him approaching the woman he hated with just a happy attitude as he’d had when talking to his mother. Fake. Humans were all pretentious and fake. They disgusted her. All these people.

“Hey, may I sit here?”

Ezili’s heart nearly jumped out of her chest when she heard the voice. She looked up and went stiff when she locked eyes with a tall handsome man. The black frame of glasses sat nicely on his high nose. His high cheekbones raised as he offered a polite smile. “Sorry. Am I bothering you?”

Ezili was thinking of what to say to him when she saw what was in his hand.

“An iPad!” she exclaimed. “I got one! Harry gave me one yesterday!”

The man looked at the iPad in his hand and chuckled. “Oh yeah, I brought it with me to read because I don’t really like these events.”

Ezili nodded fast. “I don’t, either. I’m so glad I’m not the only one.”

The man smiled again; his dark eyes twinkled with the fairy lights above their heads. “May I sit with you.”

“Sure!” Ezili hurriedly scooted over for the man to sit. Forget Harry. He’d told her never to leave his side then left her here all on her own, so who cared if she talked to one stranger? At least this one didn’t want to be here, either.

“What do you read on your iPad?” she asked him.

“I’d say books to impress you, but I’m actually reading a manga,” he said and chuckled. “Attack on Titan. Have you heard of it?”

Ezili shook her head. “Do they have something like this for The Little Mermaid?”

“I don’t know. But I’m sure they have a manga for everything these days, so you might find one about mermaids, too,” the man said and put the iPad down on his lap. “What’s your name?”

“Ezili...Hans. Ezili Hans,” said Ezili as she offered her hand.

The man shook it with another warm smile. “I’m Dawson Styles.”

It took Ezili a second to recognise that name. “Harry told me not to talk to you,” she mumbled, frowning.

However, Dawson didn’t look bothered by it. “Oh, right, you came here with Harry,” he said. “He gave you an iPad, right?”

“Yeah. He’s my...date.”

“So why are you here all by yourself?”

Ezili crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “He needed to talk to that loud lady over there. He said she was evil.”

Dawson leaned forward to look past her, and when he spotted Harry with his aunt, his mouth curled slightly. “Yup, that lady is scary. We’re all scared of her.”

“You know her?”

“Yeah, she’s my mum.”

Ezili flinched, her eyes shot open. “Oh...sorry.”

Dawson just laughed. “Well, Harry wasn’t wrong. My mother could be scary sometimes.”

“All mothers are,” muttered Ezili, but she wasn’t sure if Dawson had heard her.

“You’re from the States?” he asked.

She blinked. “What?”

“Your accent.”

“Oh. Y-Yeah.”

“How long have you been in London?”

“Just three days.”

“How do you like it?”

“It’s...grey.”

The answer made Dawson cackle. “Yeah, it is.” He lowered his head and adjusted his glasses. “Bet it’s way more sunnier where you’re from.”

Ezili lifted her shoulders. “I don’t like the sun that much either, so it’s all good.”

Dawson nodded. They sat in silence for two seconds, then he said, “You look beautiful, by the way.”

“Thank you.” She smiled, not knowing what else to respond.

“How did you know Harry?”

Ezili was about to answer when she realised that Harry hadn’t taught her what to answer for this question. He’d probably assumed that they would be together all night, so he wouldn’t have to prepare her to lie about such basic information. Helplessly, she looked back to find Harry, but he wasn’t there anymore. Both he and Dawson’s mother had disappeared.

Ezili jumped to her feet. “Sorry, I have to go. It was nice talking to you, Dawson.” Without paying him a second look, she ran off to look for Harry.

He couldn’t have abandoned her, right? At least not here at his family’s ball. But how could she be so sure? She’d witnessed him being courteous to his enemy. That man could not be trusted.

Why were there so many people?

Where was she?

Ezili was too busy cursing Harry in her head that she hadn’t paid attention to where she was going. Now she found herself standing in an empty hall. She could hear the muffled sound of the ballroom behind her, so she intended to return to it.

“Hey, baby,” said a blond-haired man she ran into at a turn. She tried to sidestep him, but he was in her way. She blocked her nose with a finger and took a step back to keep a distance from him. He smelled funny. Why were his eyes red?

“H-Have you seen Harry?” she asked the man with the buzzcut. “Tall. Curly hair. Walks and talks slowly. Acts like he’s better than you when he’s not.”

“Harry?” The man snorted, his eyelids fluttered as if he might pass out any moment. He put a hand on the wall to keep his balance. “Damn, that motherfucker always lands the hotties.”

Ezili guessed that this man was not in his right mind to tell her where Harry was, so she pushed him aside to go. Suddenly, he caught her by the wrist and yanked her into him. “Hey, where are you going, baby?”

“Let me go!” she screamed and tried to shove him off. It seemed like all of her strength had disappeared with her tail. She felt helpless against this man. He managed to take both her wrists and pinned them above her head and her against the wall.

“Leave Harry,” he whispered into her ear, his breath hot and foul-smelling. She felt like she might throw up. “He’s trash anyway. The rat of the family. Can’t believe he’s getting all this when his mother dies.”

Ezili was trapped between the man’s stinky body and the wall. She knew she’d promised Harry not to attack anyone tonight, but she needed to fight for herself. Without hesitation, her teeth went straight for the man’s neck. He screamed and jumped back, losing his balance and dropping to the floor. Ezili could taste blood on her tongue as she licked her lip and gazed down at the terrified man. The bite mark on his neck was bleeding, staining the white collar of his suit.

“You bitch!”

“Ezi!”

Ezili whipped her head and found Harry, so she ran to him as the evil man clumsily got to his feet.

“What happened?” he asked her, his face pallid with fright.

“This bitch bit me!” the man shouted, pointing the finger at Ezili.

Harry turned back to her with rage in his eyes. “You bit my cousin?! I told you not to hurt anyone! What’s wrong with you?!”

“I didn’t have a choice,” she yelled back, angry that he’d believed the words of this bastard. “He was touching me! I don’t like being touched!”

The realisation flashed across Harry’s face. He put his hands on her shoulders; his eyebrows sloped as he swept his eyes from her head to toes. “Where did he touch you?”

“I didn’t do anything to your whore.”

Before Ezili could even react to those words, Harry went straight to him with his foot in his cousin’s stomach and again when his cousin tried to say something. Ezili had to grab his arm and pulled him away before he murdered someone. She didn’t care if he did, though. She just didn’t want to draw more attention to herself and get exposed in front of all the other guests.

Panting, Harry adjusted his tie and stabbed a finger at the man on the floor. “If I see you put your hands on a woman again, I’ll beat your ass and make sure you’ll never get to set foot back into this family again. You hear me?”

The man couldn’t speak, only whimper.

Ezili opened her mouth to question, but Harry stopped her by taking her hand. “Come with me.”

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles fanfics #harry styles x mc #harry styles writing #harry styles series #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb

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yeah-all-of-it · 3 years

Text

I saw a tweet yesterday that speculated if Ian ever pointed out Mickey’s resemblance to Vladimir from Twilight. Thought it might make a fun little fic. Not sure if anyone’s written on the topic before (I’m sure they have) but here is my take on it. Enjoy!

The Gallagher kitchen is abuzz with activity.

“Hey, Tami!” Debs yells. “Grab some bowls for the popcorn!”

“Got ‘em!” Tami replies, handing the bowls off to Debbie.

“I gotta poop!” Franny declares.

“Well then hurry up and go while we finish getting stuff ready. Go!” instructs Lip to his small neice, placing a hand on her back and guiding her to the bathroom door.

“Why are we watchin’ this stupid fuckin’ movie anyway?” asks Mickey.

“Because Kev and V gave it to us before they moved and it’s free?” Liam suggests.

“Movie night’s important, Mickey. Some of us live separately now so we gotta plan family time. Suck it up,” Debbie declares.

“I think that was a jab at us for moving, Mick,” Ian says sarcastically, chewing on a hunk of red Twizzler.

“It was not. But if we ever wanna see you two Westside yuppies anymore, we gotta lure you here with free food and entertainment,” Debbie clarifies.

“Ok, Debs, what the fuck ever,” Ian replies, rolling his eyes at his sister. “We were just here last week.”

“Yeah, for dinner,” Debbie snaps.

“Yeah okay, fair point,” Ian relents and shrugs his shoulders.

Tami begins carrying bowls of popcorn into the living room, setting them on the coffee table. “C’mon guys! Grab your own drinks. I’m gonna get the movie started!” Tami yells from the other room.

All the Gallaghers shuffle in and find seats. Debs takes a chair beside Liam, while Lip and Tami take a seat on the floor so they can keep an eye on Fred playing blocks on the floor of the dining room. Ian kicks back on the couch and Mickey settles in beside him, Ian throwing an arm around his shoulders. Franny comes running in from the bathroom, plopping onto the couch and lays down with her head against her Uncle Mickey’s leg.

The front door opens and in walks Officer Carl of the Chicago Police Department.

“Oh no, police!” they all shout.

“That joke’s gettin’ fuckin’ stale guys,” Carl observes as he walks past the couch.

“You’re just in time for the movie,” Debbie says. “Go grab a beer and come sit down!”

He disappears into the kitchen where he removes his belt, placing his holster on top of the fridge out of reach and grabs a beer. He joins the family, sitting on the free end of the couch, putting Franny’s feet in his lap.

“Ok, I’m pressing play now!” Tami declares. “Everyone shut the fuck up!”

The screen lights up and instrumental music begins to play. There is a scene with some black and white pine trees and then a shot with a sunrise. The title begins to form across the screen: Breaking Dawn.

Part 2.

“Hey, anyone even seen the rest of these? How are we supposed to know what the fuck is happening if we haven’t seen part 1?” Lip asks, mouth full of popcorn, as the opening credits play.

“Yeah, I was obsessed as a kid but I’ve never seen this one,” answers Debbie. “It’s about a vampire family who are all like a million years old but look young and hot, a vampire and a human fall in love, they fuck, they turn her into a vampire but she’s pregnant and they don’t know if the baby is like, human or vampire or whatever and some other shit happens. It’s really not that deep, Lip, just watch.”

They all focus on the screen. Munching popcorn. Swigging beer. Occasionally someone makes a smart ass observation.

And then…

“Holy fuck.” Ian mutters, clearly surprised about something.

“What, man? What’s wrong?” Mickey inquires from beside him.

“Holy. FUCK.” Ian repeats.

He’s caught everyone’s attention now.

“Ian, what? Debbie asks.

“Just…” Ian leans up in his seat. “That guy, the one with the super blonde hair. You don’t see it? Tell me I’m not the only one that sees it…” Ian drifts off.

“Sees what? What are you talkin’ about?” Mickey asks, clearly confused.

“Ohhh, shiiiiitt!” Tami yells. “I see it!”

She leans over to Lip and whispers something.

He leans back, looks up at the screen, glances quickly at Mickey.

“Holy fuck!” Lip repeats Ian’s sentiments.

“What? I wanna know!” Debbie exclaims, and Tami points at the TV screen and discreetly gestures her head toward the couch.

“Ohhhh, shit!” Debbie laughs.

Carl and Liam seem to catch on too, and now all eyes are pointed directly at Mickey.

“What the…? What the fuck are you guys starin’ at?!” Mickey rages, baffled by what’s happening.

“Mick, you don’t see it?” Ian questions, trying and failing to stifle his amusement.

“See what?!”

“Check out Vladimir,” Lip suggests. “Anything about him look… I dunno, familiar?”

Mickey just furrows his eyebrows and shakes his head in frustration.

“You, Mick,” Ian finally says. “Vladimir looks like you.”

“The fuck he does! I’m way better looking than that joker. I mean,” he gestures a hand wildly toward the TV, “His hair is fuckin’ white, and his skin’s as pale as Ian’s bare ass. Nothin’ like me. And that weird fuckin’ accent…”

Ian can’t stop his laughter, “Yeah, Mickey, but like, look at his face.”

“It’s your face,” Tami confirms.

“The fuck it is,” Mickey snaps.

“He’s got your perfectly straight nose, your full pouty lips. His face is even the same shape as yours! And his teeth!” Ian observes. “Look! How do you not see it?”

“Whatever, man. Can we just drop it and watch the rest of the fuckin’ movie?” Mickey pleads, clearly irritated and done with this conversation.

They all murmur, “okay” and “fine” and “whatever”.

But for the next hour every single time Vladimir is on screen, six sets of eyes slowly pan over to Mickey and are met with dirty looks and angry eyebrows.

———

“You couldn’t have just kept your fuckin’ mouth shut, could you?” Mickey asks as he and Ian are getting ready for bed later that night.

“The resemblance was just so incredible. Had to share it with everyone. Sorry we all ribbed on you,” Ian apologizes through an amused smile, not entirely sorry, and crawls under the covers.

“They’d better not keep calling me Vladimir either or I’m gonna go fuckin’ homicidal on someone,” Mickey grumbles.

“I’ll tell ‘em to stop, okay? Now get in bed, please?” Ian asks sweetly.

“Fine.” He climbs into bed beside Ian and Ian wraps him in his arms.

“You know, Vladimir is kinda hot,” Ian admits. “But only cause I think he looks just like you.”

“Oh, you think so, huh? That turn you on?”Mickey kisses Ian soft and wet on the lips, moving down to his cheek, then his jaw, then starts kissing his neck.

Ian pulls back suddenly. “Whoa! Wait, stop!”

“The fuck, man?” Mickey questions.

“Just making sure… you’re not like, trying to suck my blood are you?”

“Fuck off!” Mickey spouts, but there’s laughter behind it. He bends down and sucks a giant hickey right on Ian’s neck. “There. Serves ya right, vampire lover,” he jokes. “Now, there’s somethin’ else I wanna suck,” and he disappears below the covers.

#shameless fic #ian and mickey #gallagher family #ficlet #gallavich fic

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masterjedilenawrites · 3 years

Text

The Sniper and The Medic: Chapter 8

Starring: Crosshair, OC Joan Vo, Tech, Hunter, Wrecker, OC clones

Chapter Warnings: Aaaangst, one tiny innuendo

Taglist: @proadhog @skippyhopperwisdom

AO3 Link (In case you like it better over there, it’s okay, no judgement)

< Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter >

Chapter 8: Keep the Doctor Away

Crosshair practically skipped down the hallways. Or, at least he felt like he was skipping. Anyone else who saw him wouldn't have suspected he felt anything other than his usual apathy.

He'd started the day with Hunter, getting tattoos. Technically cadets weren't allowed to, but they were only ten days out from deployment, and the Kaminoans had basically stopped caring what they were doing anyway. Tech managed to reprogram an old medical droid to do them. Hunter had been really ambitious with his, sounding just a little insane as he explained his idea for some half-face skull thing. Crosshair went with something much more simple, but he loved the way it turned out.

And he couldn't wait to show Joan.

He'd convinced himself overnight that she was into him. She hadn't asked the others to do things with her outside of their check-ups like she had with him. She always smiled when she saw him. And she'd even said she was flattered that he blushed around her. It just made sense.

And today, after he'd show off his tattoo and let her check on how well his ribs had healed, he planned to ask her to deploy with them. That way he wouldn't have to worry about saying good-bye. He hadn't cleared it with Hunter or any of the others yet, but they wouldn't mind. They all loved Joan.

He came upon the last corner before her office with equal parts eagerness and determination. But just as he turned it, he heard the indistinguishable sound of her laughter... hers, and a few others'.

Regs.

On instinct, he jumped back, crouching low and peering ever so slightly around the corner. He could still clearly see, and hear, the scene that was happening down the corridor.

"No you didn't!" Joan was saying through her giggles. She was standing just in front of her office door along with two clone cadets in their blue uniforms.

"Yeah, that definitely didn't happen," one of them said, looking amusedly at his identical brother with one cocked eyebrow.

"Yes it did!" the other insisted. "I caught the entire tray, with one hand, and not a single drop of food spilled."

His brother rolled his eyes, but Joan just smiled. "Well then, Mickey, I'm impressed. Who knew you had such quick reflexes."

The clone visibly puffed out his chest and grinned. "Oh I'm quick alright. Probably more than anyone here, honestly."

"Maybe you should've been called Quickie, then," the other said, causing Joan to bend over in more laughter.

Crosshair couldn't watch any more. He pushed away from the wall and stormed back the way he'd came. Jaw clenched, blood boiling... It'd been a while since he felt this angry. In about as much time as he had decided Joan liked him, he now determined she most definitely did not.

How could he have been so stupid? So full of himself? She smiled for everyone, not just him. And clearly she flirted with all the clones, too. She even had the audacity to call them her brothers. He should've trusted his first impression of her, all those weeks ago in that cold, sterile examination room, when she'd disregarded all formality and protocol, when she'd claimed to have him figured out with her stupid, hand-written list.

Detached from emotions, she had written. Well, the joke was on her, because he most certainly was not detached from any emotion right now, thanks to her.

By the time he made his way back to the hangar, however, he had managed to calm himself down a little. At least enough to put back on his usual front of cold indifference, so his brothers would be none the wiser. He only barely paid attention to Hunter as he explained they'd do a quick sim run before putting on the finishes touches to the Havoc Marauder that evening.

They filed out toward the training room, but Hunter stopped him in the doorway. The tattooed half of his face was still covered in a healing patch, but his expression was clear. No one could hide from Hunter.

"What's wrong?" he asked, and then motioned to his abdomen. "Did Joan not clear you?"

"No," Crosshair huffed. "I'm fine."

He tried to shoulder his way past but Hunter held him back with a hand on his shoulder. There was a pause as Hunter's eyes scanned over his face, searching for the answers his brother wouldn't give up so easily. When he couldn't find any, his features softened in defeat.

"Look, Cross..." He let go of his shoulder and instead ran his fingers through his hair. "I... I don't know what's going on with you and Joan. Maybe it's nothing. Maybe I'm just being paranoid. But... if I'm not, if there is something... I need it to stop."

Crosshair blinked.

"We can't afford to be distracted, not now." Hunter stopped hesitating with his words, squaring his shoulders and slipping into his leader voice. "I like Joan. She's great. I get it. But we have a mission and she's not part of it. I don't want you to lose focus. And I definitely don't want you to get hurt... your heart, or your ribs."

Hunter gave him a knowing look, which made Crosshair want to strangle him with his bandana. But he held back, mostly because he wasn't sure what to feel anymore. He wanted to take offense and snap at his brother for thinking he would ever prioritize his feelings over their mission. He wanted to panic over the fact that Hunter would not be okay with Joan joining the team like he'd thought. And he wanted to wallow because his brother was right, there was something going on, even if it was just him acting like a silly fool over someone who didn't like him back.

Hunter must have sensed his turmoil, as he didn't continue to lecture or press for some kind of response. He did give a gentle pat on his shoulder before finally stepping aside. Crosshair gladly took the out, trying to regain his composure again as they made their way to join the others in the training room.

* * *

That evening, the four of them shed their armor back in the hangar, tired and sore, but not as overwhelmed as they used to be from their trainings. They had a good rhythm now and had learned to balance action with rest. The training itself had been satisfying, too. Crosshair, especially, was grateful to have had something else to focus on. He had ignored all his previous thoughts and feelings from the day and threw himself into the mission. For a few hours, it was just him and his brothers and his gun. And he almost started feeling just a little better.

But then came Joan.

He was cleaning his rifle on the other side of the ship when he heard Wrecker practically shout out her name. And suddenly, all the emotions from before came surging back, making him sick to his stomach.

"Hey Wrecker," she greeted in return, though it was not in her usual, cheerful tone. "Is Crosshair around?"

"Yep, just over there...."

Crosshair panicked. He did not want to see her. Even if Hunter hadn't warned him to back off, he still didn't feel like engaging. Not now. Maybe not ever. He looked around and saw one of the cargo hatches was open on the ship. He abandoned his gun and quickly slipped inside, leaving the hatch just slightly askew so he could peer through it.

She came around and looked over his equipment but didn't say anything. She looked tired, worn out. He could see the puffiness of her eyes, the almost defeated slouch of her shoulders. A part of him wanted to be concerned, but the rest of him pushed that urge down and stayed hidden.

"He's in the ship," came Hunter's voice, just outside his view. "Went to bed early."

"Is he okay? He was supposed to meet me earlier and didn't show up." She sounded concerned for him. He couldn’t decide if he was touched or annoyed by it.

"He's just been busy," Hunter replied. "Focusing on his training. We don't have much longer."

"Yeah...." Her voice was distant and she chewed her lip in thought. "Well, when he has a free second, can you tell him to come see me? I need to make sure he's healed, sign off and everything."

"Of course."

She started walking away and then paused, giving Hunter a half-hearted smile. "Can't wait to see your new ink."

Hunter chuckled and followed her out, leaving Crosshair to brood in the darkness of the cargo hold alone. He'd end up staying there for most of the night, trying to convince himself to stop caring about her.

She hadn't come because she was worried about him, he told himself. She only wanted to check his wound. She was just doing her job. She had only ever been doing her job. Anything else she might have said, any of the times she'd seemed interested or impressed, didn't mean anything. She didn't seem him any differently than she saw the regs.

So he wasn't going to, either.

#star wars #the clone wars #the bad batch #clone force 99 #crosshair #crosshair x oc #fluff #medical things #military things #angst

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restapesta · 3 years

Text

The Tomato Thief

Enjoy this little something I wrote based on a prompt here on Tumblr. Feedback is always appreciated.

Words: 4.3k

_________________

The first time Ian noticed his tomatoes half-gone, half-squashed from the small vegetable patch he had started working on when he and Mickey moved into the apartment complex, he chose to ignore it. Pretending as if the loss of his small, barely ripe cherry tomatoes was insignificant, he mentioned no word of it to anyone, making a conscious decision to simply start the planting process once again. So, in the past month, Ian, choosing not to get frustrated, but rather improve his skills, was trailing along the edge of a nervous breakdown, trying to get his little patch of land replenished. When he realized that the second time doing something he initially started as a hobby would be much more difficult than the first, he feared that what he intended to be relaxing would turn into aggravating. If it wasn't for the security business, he probably would've had a meltdown, very much hurt by the fact his poor tomatoes were gone, but somehow, he managed to power through it, luck being somewhat on his side, making the tomato-growing process faster than before. It was a long excruciating process, living with the secret that all of his previous hard work was now replaced by even harder work and determination, but the sight of his vegetable patch replenishing itself as if it were never ruined, along with the Westside growing even fonder to both him and Mickey, almost starting to feel like home, made it all sort-of worth it for Ian. His husband was happy, his home was beautiful, his business was expanding, and his tomatoes were finally turning a deeper shade of red, after being torn out the first time while they were mostly green. Ian was truly very much happy.

Until he woke up one Saturday morning, excited to start his weekend off by gardening, his way to relax from the crammed-up week he and Mickey had, both enjoying the little separate bubbles they created, together yet apart, Mickey with the pool he grew to love, and Ian with his veggies, working away in the Sun -- and found every single one of his tomatoes gone, neatly picked from their stems, as if done by a professional.

First, Ian had paled, his complexion turning impossibly whiter in the bask of the afternoon glow. Then, his left eye began twitching. Anger bubbled inside of his chest, and he finally understood his husband's urges to break chairs and signs, and throw tantrums -- Ian felt like murdering somebody. Wrapping his hands so tight around the neck of the person who took his tomatoes which weren't even ripe for taking yet, and squeezing until he saw the life leave their eyes. Scaring himself at the thought, he took a deep breath and then held it for a long period of time -- a questionable, dangerous, life-threatening period of time. He was sure that his neck and cheeks were even redder than his poor tomatoes were when he had last seen them. Exhaling quickly, he balled his hands into fists and made his way quickly to the vegetable patch to examine it better.

Crouching down, as if he were in a detective movie, he observed the soil, in case the culprit left footprints or accidentally dropped a valuable item Ian could use to identify them with. When he saw nothing helpful, but rather just his regular garden -- sans the lost reds -- he rolled over all of his options in his head.

It could've been an animal the last time -- a squirrel or a bird, considering how a lot of the tomatoes were simply just squashed -- but now, the precision the tomatoes were picked with... there was no other possibility. It was one of the other tenants, somebody who deliberately wanted to either get revenge on Ian or simply to eat the vegetables Ian had worked so hard on for himself and his husband. It was ironic how he saw red.

Breathing deeply, composing himself more with each inhale and exhale -- a technique he had been forced to learn in court-mandated therapy -- the ginger made his way from the garden to the manager's office, strides quick. Melanie, the on-sight manager, was in the room, along with her poodle when Ian knocked on the door.

"Hi." She chirped in greeting. "How may I help you?"

Ian forced a smile. "I was wondering if you perhaps had cameras in the garden area? I think someone stole something I left there, by accident." He lied, not wanting the woman to think of him as even a bigger fag for caring about dumbass vegetable-fruits. Much to his dismay, she shook her head apologetically.

"Sorry, no. Was it valuable?"

Yes, Ian thought sadly. "Nah. Probably just misplaced it. Thank you anyway."

She smiled again, "You're welcome. Say hi to your husband for me."

"I will." He waved goodbye and exited the office, closing the door behind him.

No cameras, no clues. He had no fucking idea how he could possibly catch the asshole who had the nerves to fuck with him. Suddenly, he understood what he needed to do.

Mickey was lounging by the pool, sunglasses on, looking hot as fuck, enjoying the day when Ian found him. Stepping in front of the chair Mickey was sitting on, Ian blocked the beams of light which were hitting Mickey's body, slowly giving him a nice tan. Mickey begrudgingly opened his eyes to stare at Ian, pushing his sunglasses down slightly, as if wanting to give Ian a better look of his 'why the fuck are you blocking the Sun' expression.

"What?" He finally asked, pushing his RayBans back up.

"Baby, I need your help killing someone."

Mickey's eyebrows scrunched up in confusion, assessing Ian's face for any sign of humor. When he found none, he blew out an exasperated sigh. "Why?"

"Someone stole my fucking tomatoes."

Ian could see Mickey's eyes close again behind the black glass. "Who?"

"I have no fucking idea. If I did, they'd already be dead. This is the second time, Mick!" He shook his head in disbelief. "First time, I let it slide. Thought it was a bird or some shit. So, I did everything again this past month, made sure everything was better than before, had a near fucking episode over the stress that shit caused me, and now, they get fucking stolen, again!" He was breathing raggedly now, even angrier than before. His shrink's anger controlling methods only worked for a short period of time, he guessed. "We need to kill them."

Ian sat himself down on the chair next to Mickey's, slouching back in defeat. His poor tomatoes. He felt his fingers intertwine with soft, warm ones, Mickey's thumb rubbing soothing circles over Ian's. "We can't kill them," Mickey started. Ian was about to respond how he knew that, how it still made him really fucking angry, but Mickey continued, softly, "without knowing who they are. Once we know who they are, we can slip rat poison into the tomatoes, and have 'em dead in a heartbeat. Can't even pin it on us, 'cause then they'd have to admit they stole it."

Ian's eyes widened slightly, amazed and terrified by his partner at the same time. "I forgot you were a murderer here for a second."

Mickey smirked at Ian's growing smile. "Parole for attempted murder, Red. Need I remind you? Did you forget how much that turned you on?" He was now inching closer to his husband, chin jutting out, seeking out a kiss. Ian complied, even in his angriest moments still horny for his worse half, moving his lips against Mickey's slowly and teasingly.

"We can't kill them." Ian voiced out after they broke apart, now much calmer.

Mickey snorted, settling back in his chair. "No shit."

"We can find out who the fuck it is, though."

"How the fuck you gonna do that? All your tomatoes are gone, right? 'S not like you can just make new ones appear."

Ian thought about it for a second, "Who says I can't? I have my ways."

Mickey nodded mockingly. "Sure, tough guy. Is this the moment I find out I've been married to a wizard?"

"Store-bought tomatoes, Mickey." Ian deadpanned.

"Oh."

"We plant those, and then go on a stakeout." He was already devising a master plan in his head. How they would buy the tomatoes at WholeFoods -- get the expensive ones so the bait was even more tempting, make it look as if Ian grew them himself (even though that was impossible by the rules of time -- but the person had to be stupid enough to steal from a Gallagher after all, so it had to work), and then, wait tonight in the garden, considering how his tomatoes couldn't have been stolen at any other time of day, and try to catch the thief. It was a good fucking plan.

"Why do you keep saying we?"

The voice interrupted his daydream. Confused, Ian looked at Mickey. "You're not gonna help me?"

"Not my problem, man. They're your tomatoes. I'm only here for the murder part, but you backed out of that, so... good luck."

Ian was about to argue, but he thought better of it. Maybe it would be easier to do this alone anyway. Leaning forward, he pressed one last chaste kiss on Mickey's lips, then swiftly got up. "Okay, then. Text me if you need anything. I'm going out."

"Where are you going?" Mickey straightened up for the first time since Ian got there. Ian felt a smile form on his face. His husband was very easy to read.

"Tomatoes, Mick. But, um, not your problem, right?" His voice was teasing and he knew his eyes were glinting with an unspoken challenge. "Don't know if I'll be home tonight. The stakeout might last a while. Guess I'll see you tomorrow. Keep the bed warm for me, would ya'?"

He turned to leave, but Mickey's hurried voice stopped him. "Hey, wait -- hold on a minute."

"Hmm?" So, so easy to read.

Scoffing, Mickey got up. "Let me get changed first. Then, we'll go catch the fucking tomato thief."

The smile Ian gave him was blinding.

----

"Tell me the plan again?"

Mickey was currently observing the expensive as fuck organic fruit in the WholeFoods store, gawking at the prices, but also simultaneously observing his husband as he picked through the best, reddest tomatoes he could find. Between the bitching and the sadness, Ian was all over the place -- it was hard for Mickey to understand why Ian was going so crazy over stolen tomatoes, but the thought of having Ian spend the day doing God-knows what kind of legal and illegal shit made him almost break out in hives. He would rather come along to control the hot mess than "warm the bed" as Ian had so casually put it. Fuck if he was gonna keep anything warm but Ian's dick in his ass.

Ian ignored Mickey's question and shoved a tomato at his face. "Do these look good enough? I want them to look natural, but also really good. What do you think?"

Mickey gave Ian an incredulous look, "Um... those look great... man, just pick whatever the fuck you want. This guy probably isn't very picky if he stole a ripe tomato."

Ian rolled his eyes. "It was a high quality tomato, Mickey." As an afterthought, he added, "Also, it could be a she."

"Maybe it's that fag with the big muscles? Maybe he has a thing for your tomatoes?" Mickey teased, only slightly bothered by the crush the blond guy in apartment 243 had on his tall redhead. It wasn't hard to glance over the sultry looks he gave Ian, or the flirtatious tone. Mickey liked giving Ian endless shit for it, just because of how defensive and uncomfortable Ian got when it was mentioned. It was pretty funny.

"Ugh, God Mickey. Seriously?"

"What? Am I wrong?"

Ian rolled his eyes so hard, Mickey was afraid he'd be shocked by the emptiness he found back there in a moment. Instead, Ian simply grimaced. "That guy really needs to back off. I literally couldn't have flashed the ring in his face more bluntly."

Mickey, using Ian being distracted by the guy, tied the bag Ian had been filling with tomatoes, discreetly moving them away from the spot they'd been standing in the past hour and a half, and towards the cash register.

"If he continues with that shit, I'll just start making out with you in front of him. Should get the point across."

Mickey only hummed in acknowledgment, content with the plan. He hated PDA but Ian made it so natural at times, there was no way he could say no to it.

"Wait, how did we end up here?" Ian glanced around him, only now noticing they were standing in line for the check-out. Mickey shook his head at his husband, who he had to admit was a himbo through and through. "Well, at least we got the tomatoes. The rest is easy."

"What is the plan, anyway?" Mickey repeated the question from before. Now, Ian didn't ignore him. He smirked at Mickey and told him not to worry about it.

"Not to --?" Mickey stuttered. "Ian, your ideas are not top-notch ideas. If I'm gonna try and catch a vegetable thief with you -- which may be the faggest thing I've ever said -- then I need to know the plan."

"Okay, fine." Ian huffed out a breath. "In short, we put these as bait, lure the asshole in, and wait to catch them in the act."

They stared at each other for a moment.

"...that's it?"

"What do you mean?" Ian smiled at the cashier as he took out a ten dollar bill from his pocket, paying for the overpriced vegetables -- or was it fruit? Mickey didn't really give a fuck.

"What do I mean? I mean, this may be the dumbest pan I've ever heard. I mean, sure, the tomatoes are good, but what, you just wanna have a stakeout the entire night? You do know the guy probably won't steal them straight away? We need to give it some time. Work out the suspect list, make sure we know who we're looking for."

Making it out onto the streets of Westside, Mickey was pleasantly greeted by the spring air -- he wouldn't admit it yet, but the Westside was something he was adapting to quite quickly. What used to make him uncomfortable when they first signed the lease changed completely in the past couple of months they'd been living here. It wasn't easy, but as the furniture rolled in, and as the apartment started feeling more like home, the whole "middle-class" life sort of followed. Both Mickey and Ian were still major fucking Southside trash. But now, they were Southside trash that lived in a pretty nice place that didn't have too many murders and attacks per day. That way, when they did happen, it felt nostalgic for Mickey. More special.

"I keep forgetting who you are. Takes a thief to catch a thief, I guess."

"I love how high of an opinion you have of me, Gallagher." Mickey replied teasingly, choosing to take it as a compliment.

Ian smiled, wrapping an arm around Mickey's shoulders, "The highest, baby."

Endeared by the nickname, Mickey blushed slightly. "C'mon man. Let's get back to the apartment. We got a stakeout that needs planning."

Ian nodded, but the arm stayed put the entire way home. Mickey didn't mind one bit.

----

"What about the lady from apartment 193? The one with the weird-ass dog?"

"Ian, she's, like, a hundred years old."

"I don't know, Mick. Seems kinda suspicious."

They were sitting on their newly-bought sofa in the living room, beers in hand, discussing the potential suspect list. Ian had his phone out, writing the names of the possible culprits down, attempting to uncover the thief by the way the crime was executed. It wasn't going that well.

Ian's suspect list was a mile long, all ranging from old women who had complimented his tomatoes months ago, to the weird guy who gave him the stink eye when they first moved in for no apparent reason. "He's out to get me, Mick. I know it." Mickey had told him to shut the fuck up, and presented his own suspect list.

His was a little more realistic, containing names such as Alan who most certainly didn't like the couple -- "maybe the reason for that is the tantrum, Mickey." "shut the fuck up, Ian." -- and the chick whose daughter had a massive crush on Mickey.

"Maybe she thinks I'm some sort of pedo. Not cool, man."

"She would have called the cops, Mickey, not stolen my tomatoes. Also, the whole thing is pretty cute."

Mickey blanched. "She's fifteen! And has a crush on me."

"She's cute, acting all flustered when you casually say "good morning" to her. She probably doesn't even know we're gay."

The girl, Courtney, lived in the apartment a couple doors down from theirs, and her apparent crush on Mickey was beyond adorable to Ian. She was amazed by his thug appearance, and she made it clear in the way she greeted him whenever she passed by the couple, ignoring Ian wholeheartedly. Mickey hadn't even noticed it until Ian pointed it out one night, and when he did, Mickey grimaced and groaned, muttering about how he really didn't need to be the cause of some kid's daydreams.

"Her mother is out to get me. And the way to get me is through you -- everybody knows that."

Ian's chest swelled at the probably insignificant sentence in Mickey's mind. "Aww, Mick. That's really sweet."

"I am sweet."

"It's not the mother. We have to come up with something else."

"Ugh." Mickey groaned. "Why can't we just do this the old-fashioned way?"

Ian simply raised an eyebrow.

"Listen, you already planted the bait when we got back, we have somewhat of a suspect list -- now, we just set up the camera."

"Camera?"

"Yes, Ian. A fucking camera."

"Where the fuck are we gonna get a camera?"

Mickey rolled his eyes. "Carl? He's probably got access to those hidden camera thingies at work, right? We just have him snatch one for us. We'll give it back." He then added as an afterthought, "Maybe."

Ian thought about it for a second and then sighed. "Fine, we'll do it your way."

"Better than crouching in a bush of roses in the middle of the night, Ginger."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Ian agreed, texting Carl simultaneously asking for the 'camera thingy'.

"Also, I'd probably never, under any circumstances, do that shit. Doesn't matter how much I love you."

"Uh-huh." Ian smiled at Mickey, amused.

"I'm serious." He affirmed. "Never. No fucking way."

---

"I can't believe you made me do this shit." Mickey grunted as he crouched behind a rose bush, eyes trained on Ian's vegetable patch.

"Your plan didn't work, so we're doing it my way."

"Well, I didn't really plan for the camera to get fucking broken!"

Their thief was way more skilled than they had initially thought. After they got the camera from Carl, Ian hid it well, making sure it caught the asshole on tape once they attempted to steal his goods again. And when, a couple days later, his store-bought tomatoes were ruined again, this time, squashed deliberately in the garden, he was so happy Mickey had the bright idea to record it.

Until he found the camera squashed along with the tomatoes. It still worked somewhat, and when Ian saw there was a video on it, his hopes had immediately risen, only to be squashed like the poor tomatoes when he saw the video got cut off in the middle of the night, right before the murder had taken place.

"We are gonna do this my way. And then, we'll kill them." He had told his husband.

"Sure, man. The red blood will fit right in with the tomatoes."

"Stakeout."

"No, Ian."

"The sex you'll get if you do this with me will be nothing like you'd ever experienced."

Mickey scoffed, "Sure."

Ian gave him a look full of mischief, and leaned into his ear to whisper his intentions. "Three words, baby: handcuffs, blindfold, tongue. As someone who claims he doesn't like ass-licking, you sure as fuck make some sexy, loud noises when I try it."

And that's how Mickey was there in the garden, at three in the morning with Ian, his dumbass husband, waiting for the thief to appear. Ian had planted another bait, and decided to have a stakeout that night, after loudly flaunting to the other gardeners how good his tomatoes had grown -- "They'll take the bait, Mikhailo, stop giving me that look."

"The ground is really fucking cold, man. Can't believe you convinced me to do this shit. No sex is worth this."

Ian, in response, pressed an open-mouthed kiss to Mickey's neck. "You sure about that?"

"Yeah..." Mickey sighed in content. When Ian tried pulling away, he muttered, "No. Don't stop."

"Eyes on the tomatoes. You'll get your prize later."

Just as Mickey was about to protest, a figure appeared, inching towards Ian's vegetable patch. The couple stilled, eyes squinting, trying to see who the thief was -- who the fuck was it that had so easily crushed Ian's dreams of becoming a gardener, and had forced them to sacrifice their Friday night, crouching in the bushes instead of loudly fucking in their bed.

When the figure stepped even closer, Ian gasped. The culprit's face wasn't even covered and when Mickey saw who it was, he couldn't help it.

He laughed.

He laughed so hard, tears streamed down his face -- he wheezed at the sight they were greeted with. Ian hit his bicep roughly, but it was too late.

The girl had noticed them. She jumped in fear at the noise and her eyes zeroed in on the two men. Her young face paled and her eyes widened in fear.

"You!" Ian accused, jumping up to his feet, not as amused as Mickey was.

The girl jutted out her chin in defiance, not scared one bit. "Yeah. Me."

Ian stared at the fifteen-year-old. He had once considered her cute -- the crush she had on Mickey being nothing more but sickly sweet to him, perfect teasing material. But now, as he realized she was deliberately sabotaging his tomatoes because of, what? Jealousy? Oh, he was pissed.

"Why, Courtney? I've been working hard on those vegetables."

"Fruits." Courtney replied and Ian gaped at her, as Mickey kept on laughing.

"Not the point. Why? Are you jealous or something?"

"Why would I be jealous?" She asked, still acting tough for a girl who had just been caught in the act.

"Then why are you doing this?"

"Because..." She glanced at Mickey who was still on the wet ground, observing the exchange. "Your tomatoes look better than mine, and I was planning on giving Mr. Milkovich my tomatoes but it wasn't gonna work if yours looked better. So, I took yours."

Mickey busted out laughing again. This time tears were actually streaming down his face, clouding his vision. "Mr." Wheeze. "Milkovich." Wheeze.

Courtney looked down, embarrassed. "Maybe I was a little jealous. I just wanted to be noticed."

"Stealing my husband's tomatoes sure got you on my radar, kid." Mickey muttered, still laughing loudly. Perhaps too loudly for three in the morning.

Courtney stilled. "You guys aren't just... roommates?"

Ian shook his head. "No, married."

Her mouth formed an 'oh' shape, and for a moment they stood in silence. Then she laughed, sheepishly. "Well, in that case... I'm sorry?"

Ian was still on the verge of a mental breakdown, but he chose to remain calm. "Just don't do it again, please."

"I won't. I swear." She raised her hands in the air in surrender.

"Go home, kid. It's three in the fucking morning. You're way past hour bedtime." Mickey pitched in from his seat on the soil.

She nodded once again, muttering a quick "sorry", and then ran out of the garden.

Ian turned to Mickey, still shocked. "The root of all of this has been you."

Mickey just smiled. "Not intentionally."

"She wanted to give you her tomatoes. So she ruined mine."

"Your tomatoes are the only ones I care about."

"This better not be a metaphor for my balls."

"Oh, I like those too."

Ian grinned at his husband. "At least we figured out who it was." He put his hand out towards Mickey. Mickey got the hint and grabbed it, pulling himself up.

"Yeah. It was the little girl all along."

Ian snorted, still a little angry.

"How about now, you and I go back to our warm, comfy bed where you can tie me up and fulfill your promise."

"You're not tired?" Ian raised his eyebrow at Mickey.

The smile Mickey gave him was genuine. "For you? Never."

"Maybe I could fulfill my promise. It'd get my mind of off the tomatoes."

"You can always use me as a distraction." Mickey wrapped his arms around Ian's neck and pulled him down, slotting their lips together.

"I'll show you how to handle your tomatoes properly." Mickey teased and Ian all but shoved him back to the apartment.

The sex that night was fucking amazing. Mickey realized he wouldn't mind playing detective again if this was the reward he got. Suddenly, Ian's wish to plant thise tomatoes was the best thing that could have happened to Mickey in the long run. He wasn't surprised, though.

Ian really knew how to make the most of everything for Mickey. It was probably why he loved him so much.

This was a night Mickey would probably never forget.

#gallavich #shameless #ian and mickey #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ianxmickey #shameless us #shameless fic #based on a prompt #enjoy!!#i loved writing this

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littlespoonevan · 4 years

Text

YES ANON!!!! lip and mickey becoming friends is the only thing i want in this whole world!!!!! i hope you like it <3

Mickey cranes his neck to tip his head against the back of the couch when he hears the front door open. Lip slips through a moment later, strolling into the living room and coming to a complete stop when he takes in the sight of them on the couch.

His eyes go from Ian, fast asleep and curled into Mickey’s side with one leg draped over Mickey’s and an arm thrown across his stomach, to Mickey who just stares up at him expectantly. “Hey?” he says pointedly.

Lip’s blank expression disappears only to be replaced by a shit-eating grin. “Hey,” he replies on a laugh, coming around the couch to drop into the armchair. “You two havin’ some quality time?” he asks, waggling his eyebrows.

Mickey rolls his eyes, absently tightening his arm around Ian’s middle. “He had a long shift.”

Lip’s expression changes then, just slightly, into something a little more like brotherly concern. “He okay?”

Mickey glances down, feeling his cheek hit Ian’s forehead where his face is buried against Mickey’s neck. “Yeah, there was a pileup downtown or something. Sounded bad.”

Lips winces and Mickey nods in agreement before narrowing his eyes, taking in the fact that Lip is sans baby for once. “The fuck you doin’ here anyway?”

“Tami took Fred over to Cami’s for a couple of hours and I wanted a break from inhaling sawdust,” Lip explains, cracking his back and settling back more comfortably into the chair.

Mickey hums in acknowledgement. He and Ian have been helping here and there with the renovations when they get the time but the place looked like a fucking bombsite the last time Mickey had been there.

“Where is everyone?” Lip asks then, glancing idly around as if only just realising Mickey and Ian have the place to themselves.

“Carl took Liam out for food,” Mickey says. “Dunno where Debbie is but Franny’s with her so it’s just me and fuckin’ Sleeping Beauty over here,” he adds, mouth curling up in an involuntary smile as he runs a hand through Ian’s hair. He’d been looking forward to some alone time but Ian had all but collapsed against him when he came home and, well, Mickey can’t say he hates this either.

He doesn’t realise right away that Lip isn’t answering but when he looks back up from Ian he sees Lip’s smirk from before is back.

“Man, back when I first found out about you two I never fucking thought I’d see this,” he snorts. “You’d shiv someone just for looking at you wrong.”

Mickey huffs a laugh. “I wasn’t that fuckin’ bad. C’mon, by the time you found out I was practically a model citizen.”

Lip raises an eyebrow, a confused smile on his face. “When exactly do you think I found out?”

Mickey frowns. Neither Ian nor Lip has ever said when Lip knew but Mickey still remembers the day Lip had come around asking about Ian. You gonna make me say it? “When Ian took off, right? Or like, when I brought him home.”

Lip’s incredulous expression tells him that’s not the right answer and Mickey feels his frown deepen. “The wedding?” He knows Mandy found out then – he guesses it’s not beyond the realm of possibility Lip had found out at the same time.

Lip barks out a laugh, seemingly deciding to take pity on him. “Mickey, I knew pretty much since the beginning.”

What?

“What?” he demands, leaning forward until Ian snuffles against him, making him carefully ease back into his original position.

Lip nods, looking thoroughly amused. “Well, almost the beginning,” he amends. “I’ve known since you went to juvie that time after Kash shot you. Ian kinda word-vomited it all out one day.”

And that’s- Lip’s known the entire time? And he never said anything? Never outed Mickey – to anyone, as far as Mickey knows. Sure, they get along now but there was a long fuckin’ time where Lip hated him – Mickey’s finding it hard to get his head around the fact Lip never tried to hold it against him.

“You really knew this whole time and didn’t say anything?” he asks, the question coming out quieter than he means it to be.

“Yeah,” Lip shrugs. “Wasn’t my secret to tell, man.”

Mickey knows Lip isn’t actually a bad person, knows that the majority of Lip’s dislike towards him in the past was protectiveness over Ian – though at least 10% had to just be him being an asshole – but still. This is a revelation Mickey never expected to have – teenage Lip Gallagher secretly saving his ass every goddamn day and looking for nothing in return? Sounds fucking fake.

“You didn’t even tell Mandy?” he presses because he never actually asked Mandy how she found out in the end and she and Lip were together just beforehand.

Lip shakes his head. “She overheard Ian talking to me at the wedding; that’s how she knew,” he explains and judging by the look on his face, it’s not the whole story. But Mickey drops it.

“Anyway, it doesn’t matter,” Lip continues, “Ian woulda fuckin’ murdered me if I’d done anything to mess up what was happening between you two. You gotta admit if you’d found out I knew back then you probably would’ve ended shit.”

And Mickey hates even acknowledging it but Lip’s probably right. He doesn’t think he would’ve been able to stay away because he’s never been able to stay away from Ian. But it still would’ve fucked stuff up for a while. He can’t decide if it would’ve been better or worse than that time Frank found out. He runs a soothing hand over Ian’s back then, a silent comfort for himself and a silent apology to Ian.

“You’re right,” he mutters eventually, meeting Lip’s gaze and feeling uncomfortable with how serious everything suddenly feels. “Thanks for not sayin’ anything, I guess.”

“It’s cool,” Lip replies quietly, a hint of a smile reappearing on his face. “If teenage Mickey Milkovich could see you now, huh?”

Mickey shakes his head, letting out a reluctant laugh. “He wouldn’t fucking believe it.”

Ian chooses that moment to shift against him, nuzzling further into Mickey’s neck for a moment before lifting his head and blinking blearily. “Mm, sorry for passing out,” he mumbles, kissing Mickey on autopilot and Mickey stills gets a tiny thrill at how shit like that has just become a natural reaction.

Ian smiles at him when he pulls back before his eyes catch on Lip in the armchair. He sits up a little more but still leans most of his weight on Mickey. “When did you get here?”

“Not long ago,” Lip answers and the smug asshole expression from before is back. “Didn’t mean to interrupt your love fest.”

Mickey rolls his eyes again and hears Ian scoff. “You’re just jealous we can sleep uninterrupted without a baby waking us up every five minutes,” Ian retorts around a yawn, head falling back against Mickey’s shoulder.

Lip raises an eyebrow. “You live in our house – sleep is never fucking uninterrupted here.”

And ain’t that the fuckin’ truth, Mickey thinks resignedly. Even with a room to themselves everyone always wants something because apparently they’re the only functioning adults in this house.

(Which is true, but still.)

Ian makes a dismissive sound. “What were you two talking about anyway?”

Lip opens his mouth to blurt out something stupid, no doubt, so Mickey makes sure to get there first. “How apparently you spilled all your secrets to Lip when I want to juvie the first time.”

Ian freezes against him, raising his head and glancing nervously from Lip to Mickey. Eventually he seems to decide nobody looks angry because the anxious look leaves his face and his shoulder relax. “I needed to tell someone about my crush. He was the best option I had.”

Mickey laughs, chest feeling warm, and Lip makes a noise that’s exaggeratedly offended.

“Fuck you, I gave you great advice!” Lip exclaims and Mickey highly doubts that, honestly.

Ian and Lip start bickering then, Ian sitting up straighter as he becomes more animated but still staying in the circle of Mickey’s arms. Mickey lets their voices wash over him, watching Ian amusedly as he tries to let the information he learned in the past half hour sink in.

He can’t say what would’ve happened if Lip had said anything back then – if things would’ve been better or worse – but either way, he’s grateful. And either way he counts himself fucking lucky that they all somehow managed to end up here.

#gallavich #mickey milkovich #lip gallagher #ian gallagher #shameless #my fics

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lancermylove · 3 years

Text

Halloween Costumes (HC)

Fandom: BSTS

Pairing: Team K x Reader, Team W x Reader, Team B x Reader

Warning: Suggestive.

Prompt: Reader to picks out a “couple costume” for Halloween.

A/N: Click on the names of the men to see the whole costumes!

———————————————

Prologue

Starless was hosting an invitation exclusive Halloween party. When you read the invitation, you noticed a line in bold letter: Must wear a costume.

You wanted to costume shop together with your boyfriend, but as usual, he was too busy. So, you decide to take the matter into your own hands. Without asking him, you pick out a costume for him (and you), but unbeknownst to him, you decide to go with a couple's costume.

———————————————

Team K

Kei

You wanted to see Kei as a vampire again, but when you reached for the costume, you noticed the costume beside it.

‘A devil?’ You smirked. ‘A sexy devil.’

Kei raises his eyebrow when he sees his devil costume.

“Devil? Is that how you see me?” He asks with a smirk.

“N-No. I just thought it would look good on you.”

Kei can’t help but smile when he sees your costume. He thinks it suits you well.

“My dear angel, you couldn’t look any more heavenly.”

Kei takes a hold of your hand and pulls you close to him, pressing his lips on yours.

“K-Kei?”

“You made me a devil, so don’t expect me to be an angel.” Kei leans in close to your ear, “The devil will show you later tonight what he can do.”

Sotetsu

Since last Halloween, you had dreamt of seeing Sotetsu as a vampire.

When you show him the costume, he laughs, “Be prepared to see the world’s sexiest vampire.”

Sotetsu is in surprised to see you in your costume.

“Such a beautiful vampiress,” he walks up to you and nuzzles your neck, “you smell nice.”

He presses the tip of his fake fangs into your neck.

“Let me drink your blood.”

“Sotetsu!?”

He chuckles and presses his lips on your neck, “I am joking, babe...kinda.”

Ginsei

Ginsei has always been your prince charming, so you couldn’t think of a more befitting costume for him.

“A p-prince?” He is shocked to see his outfit.

Ginsei looks like a prince straight out of a disney movie. Perfect.

“Princess, you look stunning.” He kisses the back of your hand, “But, princess, why choose this outfit?”

“Ginsei, you are my prince charming.”

His cheeks turn red but he smiles widely, “I am honored to be your prince charming. I l-love you, my princess.”

Gui

Gui is confused when you hand him his ninja costume.

“Ninja?” He blinks.

“Gui, you would be a great ninja. A badass ninja that can do parkour.”

He still doesn’t understand but willingly wears his costume.

“Wow, you look better than I imagined.”

“Are you happy seeing me wear this?” Gui asked, tilting his head a bit.

“Yes!”

“Then I am happy.” He gave an innocent, child-like smile.

Yoshino

You couldn’t decide which costume to pick out until you saw a poster of Mickey and Minnie. ‘Perfect.’

Yoshino stares at the costume with wide eyes and mouth open, his face matching the color of your costume.

“Uh, I...”

“Yoshino, please! You will look great as Mickey.” You batted your eyes lashes and pouted.

“A-alright.”

Yoshino looked beyond adorable in his outfit. So cute that you were tempted to tease him.

To his dismay, the cast members teased him non-stop at the party.

“Don’t you look adorable.”, “The hell ya wearing?”, “Hey Mickey, your face matches Minnie’s dress.”, “Your height is perfect for the costume.”

Yoshino went through a lot that night but he didn’t mind because your happiness mattered to him more than anything.

Team W

Kokuyou

Kokuyou smirks after seeing his costume, “Big Bad Wolf?”

“Suits you perfectly.”

“Is that so?” He chuckles and gets dressed.

“Oh, Kokuyou what big arms you have.” You place your hands on your cheeks, acting surprised, “Oh, Kokuyou what big eyes you have.”

Kokuyou chuckles and steps close to you, looking you straight in the eyes, “Hey, Red Riding Hood, this Big Bad Wolf is hungry.”

“What do you want to eat?”

He steps closer to you with an alluring smile, “You.”

Akira

Akira is excited to see his pirate costume, “Reminds me of my Seaside costume.”

He covers his mouth and shakes his head, “Forget I said anything.”

“Wait, Team W will be pirates in Seaside?”

“You didn’t hear it from me.” He quickly runs to the changing room and gets ready.

“Akira, you look hot.”

“Don’t I always? But princess, you look-,” he scans you up and down, “-sexy.”

“Hey captain, my eyes are up here.” You chuckle and lift his chin up with one finger.

“It’s not my fault that you look smokin’.”

Sin

Sin wasn’t expecting you to pick out a Batman costume for him, but he didn’t complain.

“Sin, please say “I am Batman” in a deep voice.” You giggle and clasp your hand together, waiting to hear your superhero sounding like the Gotham Knight.

He clears his throat and copies the cape crusader, “I am Batman.”

“Hm...brooding man, mature, rarely smiles, serious...? Sin! They should cast you as the next Batman.” You laugh.

While you’re laughing, Sin takes the liberty to study your outfit.

Though he won’t say it out loud, Sin is glad that you chose this costume. How else would he get to see you in a tight spandex jumpsuit.

Taiga

Taiga wasn’t ecstatic to dress up and go to the party. He wanted to spend the night playing video games, but he couldn’t say no to you.

“So what am I dress up as?” He asks in a dreary tone.

“Here.” You hand him the costume and wait patiently for his reaction.

“This is? Master Chief?” Taiga’s eyes sparkle with excitement, “This is...perfect!”

He throws his arms around you, “Thank you! I will be right back.”

You laugh and get ready. ‘He’s so cute.’

“How do I lo-” Taiga stares at you, wordless.

“What’s wrong?”

“You look a-amazing. I think I am in love with you all over again.”

Takami

Most people in Starless think that Takami is shady, so you chose a costume to match that description.

“A gangster?” Takami chuckles, cooly.

“I think you will look really cool as a gangster!”

Takami didn’t mind the costume, especially considering that his daily wear looks quite similar to the gangster outfit. Coincidence? I think not.

When he sees your costume though, he is left breathless.

“My, don’t you look sensuous. I am almost tempted to not go to the party.”

“Why? I worked so hard picking out these costumes.”

Takami chuckles at your cluelessness, “You are adorable.”

Team B

Kongou

“We are a married couple?” Kongou blushes and rubs the back of his neck.

“Yeah! The costume is called “Till Death Do Us Apart”, but I think the costume should be called, “Not Even Death Can Do Us Apart”.” You laugh.

“That’s clever. Excuse me.”

Kongou smiles when he sees you in your costume, “You look beautiful, even as a ghost bride. I wonder what you would look like as a real bride.”

You smile, “We will find out as soon as you propose to me.”

Kongou’s jaw drops as he stares at you with wide eyes.

You giggle at your boyfriend and walk out of the room.

“Soon, love.” Kongou whispers and fishes out a small blue velvet box from his pocket.

Ran

“SO COOL!” Ran is beyond exhilarated to see his costume.

“I knew you would like it! Let’s get ready and put on our makeup.”

You finish your makeup and help Ran apply blood to his face.

“More blood!”

“Ran? Are you sure?”

“Yes! I want it to be scary, so more blood.”

When the two of you arrive at the party, Ran plays a prank and suddenly appears on stage, scaring quite a few of the cast members.

Mizuki runs on stage and kicks Ran. Sinju, Yoshino, Mokuren, and Maica avoids the two of you. Qu compliments your makeup skills.

Though it was fun for the night, Ran got punished the next day for scaring everyone.

You felt bad, but it was worth it.

Mizuki

Mizuki is a fan of the Joker, so he’s thrilled to see his costume.

You help him with his tattoos before changing into your outfit.

Your boyfriend is busy checking out his costume in the mirror, but when he sees your reflection, he nearly falls backwards.

“So, how do I look?”

“Hm..fine, I guess.”

Mizuki’s cheeks are bright red, and he avoids looks at you.

“Only fine?”

“Nah, ya look great.” He grinned.

Mizuki felt an unknown feeling seeing you in Harley Quinn’s outfit. He couldn’t describe the feeling, but for some reason his pants felt tighter.

Heath

After seeing the costume, Heath isn’t sure what to say.

He’s not scared of clown, but he also doesn’t want to dress like one.

“Do you like clowns?”

“Not really, but since Team B likes unusual concepts, I thought IT would be a good choice. Why, you don’t like it?’

“No, no. I will wear it.”

When Heath sees your outfit, he blushes, “Are you sure you want to wear that outfit?”

“Hm? What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing.” Heath said, averting his eyes.

When the two of you arrive at Starless, many of the cast members are stunned.

Mizuki likes your costume so much that he disappears for a little while and comes back dressed in a jeans, yellow raincoat, and green rainboots.

“Heath?” You tap his shoulder and whisper, “Why did you ask if I’m okay wearing this outfit?”

“Oh...I didn’t want the men here to see you wearing such a short skirt.”

Rico

Rico frowns when he sees his costume.

“Why would you choose a costume that covers my handsome face?”

“It’s your punishment for not helping me pick out our costume.” You handed him his outfit.

Rico begrudgingly gets ready, but he freezes when he sees you in your outfit.

“Little bird, if the grim reaper looks like you, then I wouldn’t mind dying.”

You chuckle, “Is that so?”

At the party, you got a lot of compliments, much to Rico’s dismay.

He wasn’t fond of the cast members being around you but seeing them flock around you, made him angry.

How he wishes his costume had the power of the grim reaper. He would start by using that power on a certain leader.

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blueberrypossum · 3 years

Text

A Bad Romance

Loathsome Leonard x Reader

Another Mud Dogz fanfic? Who would've guessed! I’ve had this idea for a long time but I never could place it with a certain character until Leonard came along and boom! Perfect time to write it! Hope you guys enjoy it!

⚠️WARNING⚠️: This fanfic contains inappropriate language and love tension!

(To make it clear, the reader will be wearing make-up, and anyone can wear make-up! Not just girls!)

Groundhog’s text will be colored pink

Honey Badger’s will be colored green

“What do you mean Prairie Dog is sick?!”

You stood next to Leonard and the rest of the members of the Mud Dogz as you stood outside the DIGG’s apartment, Groundhog and Honey Badger being the ones to answer the door.

“Well we were digging and digging, and did I mention digging?” Groundhog chipped and the three yokai’s next to you death eyed her.

“We dug over a hospital.”

The Mud Dogz let out loud groans and turned to each other, huddling into a tight circle as they tried to come up with another idea to sneak into the banquet. You had told the Mud Dogz a week ago about one of the top aresticats in the Mystic City was coming to their part of town, and that the woman in charge, Miss MacQuoid, a highly sophisticated bird, was in need of entertainment. With the flyer of wanted musicians in your hands, you gave it to Leonard and you both came up with the plan to ask the DIGG band. They got to play and you four got to steal all of the riches that Miss MacQuoid brought with her, it was a win win, until now.

You leaned against the doorframe as your friends continued to chat behind you, their brash and tangled voices barely made it to your ear as another idea cracked inside your head.

“Will you two still be up to perform?”

Groundhog looked up at the grey mutant next to her, her purple eyes wide as saucer pans as if she was trying to make her eyes form the word please. Honey Badger looked down at her friend and then over to you, her claw scratching the back of her hand before she gave a light nod, sending the small groundhog into a fit of squeals.

“Part of DIGG is on to do the gig!”

While the two members of DIGG went back in to tell their lead singer about the situation, you walked back over to the Mud Dogz, a little shock zipped through you to see that they were still trying to come up with a new plan.

“Hey! Why don’t we just make our own band?!”

“Oh sure, while we’re at it, let me just revisit my old High School and go to prom. That rich pigeon would kick us out in a heartbeat.”

“Why do we even need a band, Len?”

“We gotta make sure we have a distraction that won’t stop midway, along with making sure that bird stays in her seat while we’re cracking into her safe.”

“Hey, The DIGGS are doing it.”

The three males looked over at you as you picked the dirt from under your nails, the nonchalant look you gave them created more confusion between them.

“Is Prairie Dog doing it?”

“Nope.”

“But they need a singer.”

“I know, and they got one.”

“And who would dat’ be?”

“Me.”

Leonards’s eyebrows furrowed in disbelief when you announced that you would be the one singing to Miss. MacQuoid. Quiet and timid you, barely saying a word to yokai’s you didn’t know, and didn’t like the attention from a crowd. At least, that’s what the ogre thought you were like, but now, with your arms crossed over your chest and a smug smile molded onto your face, he believed that he was seeing you in a different light.

“You sing, sweetheart?”

You gave a stiff nod and rolled your shoulders, the jacket you wore shifting under the movement.

“Like a canary.”

“Ha! Good one.”

“Look,” you sighed, your hands raising up against you.

“I can sing with Groundhog and Honey Badger while the rest of you do what needs to be done. Got it?”

Leonard was never the type to take orders from anyone else, he could barely take any from Danny or Mickey. Yet you stood proud next to him, your quick mind already working out ideas to help the gang more than he could, but even with all of that self-confidence you had possessed at that moment, you still looked up at him for the go-ahead. And with that, he gave you the nod to continue and you both started to build up a plan.

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

Leonard took his seat at one of the multiple dining tables, the suit he wore was rigid against his skin. It was a few days after making the plan and tonight was the night to execute it. While you and him made sure the fancy bird was distracted, Danny and Mickey would sneak into her private room and take every last piece of gold and money she had.

Different species of yokai surrounded Leonard as he took a swig of one of several options of alcohol at the table, his fingers working against the glass as he awaited for Miss. MacQuoid. A large stage stood in front of him, the black floor being leveled a little higher than the tables and the stage extended outward until it was in the middle of the ballroom. The dinner hall was dimly lit with golden lanterns hung on the wall and sat at each table. Voices buzzed around him like flies as he continued to check his watch, his mind accidentally going to you.

He had never heard you sing, not even hum with a tune of a song, and he wondered if you were bluffing or not, but you wouldn’t be the type to put any of them in danger. You were very protective of them once you joined the Mud Dogz, even with you being barely younger than them, you almost took the parent role and made sure that they took care of themselves. The ogre pinched the bridge of his nose as he once again tried to admit to himself that he slightly, barely liked you. He had grown fond of you after getting close, and you somehow got under his shell, and then under his skin like a love virus, taking control over his emotions and his instincts.

What you did to him almost made him angry, because he’s never had these sensations before, even when yokai tried to flirt with him, he just couldn’t do it.

But with you? Maybe.

The congested room of yokai went silent and Leonard looked up at what seemed like a theatre balcony, only that it was barely above the stage or table level. A large and feathery bird strolled into it from its only entrance, her feathers painted different variations of colors that Leonard believed she could be her own rainbow. The elegant dress she wore reeked with vintage and by the boastful bows and string attached to it, Leonard wasn’t surprised at all to find out that she was a hopeless romantic.

Oh jeez you were going to sing a love song to this crowd and he got to watch? He couldn’t tell if he was nervous or amused for what was about to happen.

The buff guards next to Miss. MacQuoid were stern next to her, and Leonard could see they had handguns strapped against their sides. He hoped that she didn’t have those types of guards at her private office and his mind drifted to worry for Danny and Mickey, but his job was to stay here and make sure the parrot watched you perform; he would just have to trust that everything went fine.

The parrot yokai lifted up her left wing, the rows of colors on her feathers were blinding against the light as that one move ordered for the band to begin, disinterest already crossing her face as some of the launters were blown out and the room went dark.

Leonard prayed that everything was fine with you backstage as Honey Badger and Groundhog walked out, their instruments in hand as they got settled on stage.

Groundhog got herself settled behind the drum set while Honey Badger got her electric guitar ready, the usual bass guitarist having to change due to the song and the lead guitarist was sick.

And then the music started.

The dark yokai slammed on the guitar and soon her hot pink-haired friend joined in, her drumsticks beating against different ones that sat in front of her.

A spotlight was turned to the opposite side of the stage and a hooded figure was caught in the dazzling light. Their body was covered with the black cloak as they slowly made their way towards the stage, their figure easily passing the tables as Groundhog and Honey Badger loudly sang the beginning of the chorus.

“Want your bad romance!”

And right after the strange hooded figure started to sing, a mic now in their hands as they continued to walk past the party guests.

“I want your ugly, I want your disease, I want your everything as long as it’s free,” the stranger sang out, almost making every yokai in the room lean back in surprise at the voice behind the hood. Leonard watched as the figure strolled by him, his leg raising up until his ankle landed on his knee, in a comfortable position. Where were you?

The stranger continued to sing to the crowd as they made their way upstage, the cloak they wore barely showing the black boots that they wore that slammed against the plastic material of the stage.

“I want your love.”

“I want your love!”

“Love, love, love, I want your love.”

“I want your love, I want your love!”

The singer grabbed a mic stand that stood near the back of the stage with the other band members, their fingers carefully wrapping around the jet-black pole as they brought it with them to barely stand in front of Groundhog and Honey Badger, dragging it behind them like a limp leg.

“I want your drama, the touch of your hand. I want your leather-studded kiss in the sand.”

The mystery person then pointed out towards the crowd, their finger aiming towards Miss. MacQuoid, who raised a feathery eyebrow in interest.

“I want your love.”

“I want your love!”

“Love, love, love I want your love.”

“I want your love, I want your love!”

The singer still remained a mystery as they placed the mic into the slot of the stand, their voice becoming raspy and on edge as they sang:

“You know that I want you, and you know that I need you. I want it bad, a bad romance!” And right before the singer could get to the screaming continuation of romance, it seemed like Honey Badger had enough of their singer teasing the crowd and pulled the hood back to reveal you.

Leonard felt his head tilt downward in shock at the sight of you. Make-up decorated your face in a stylish manner, your hair done up in a crazy yet slick style to represent a rockstar. Your outfit was still covered by the cloak, but the blank blanket hugged your figure as you strolled closer to the guitarist and the drummer, your voice steadily rising with confidence.

I want your love and I want your revenge, you and me could write a bad romance!”

Soft ‘oh’s’ from the two band members echoed throughout the room as your voice rose with the music.

I want your love and all your lovers' revenge, you and me could write a bad romance!”

And that’s when you hit the long note, your voice blearing into the microphone as the crowd started to cheer, male and female yokai hollering with the bass of the song.

Leonard was still trying to take this all in as he watched you prance around stage, as if you were born to rock. To see you singing one his favorite genre of music and being good at it, he double-checked his drink to make sure it wasn’t doused with something extra. He looked back to fint eh aristocrat leaning forward, her feathers under her beak as she watched you perform with amusement. With the music starting, Danny and Mickey would be breaking into her private office right now, and deep inside of Leonard knew that he was no longer upset that he wasn’t a part of it.

You finished the first part of the song and let the music thunder around you like a storm as the nerve sweats started to be replaced with excitement and the pounding in your body no longer heart. It was actually your idea to come in from a different area than the stage to give the element of surprise, and it seemed to work on the pretty parrot that now stared at you. All those years of choir and going to concerts seemed to pay off as you chanted into the mic you held.

You had spotted Leonard right when you walked into the entertainment room, and the bewilderment on his face was something that will stay with you for the rest of your life. Maybe you should start surprising him more often.

“I want your horror, I want your design, cause you’re a criminal as long as you’re mine” you purred to the crowd, your legs taking you down the long stage. The smoke machines the stage workers had placed around the stage started to spill out grey pools of clouds, the fog swimming around your feet as you made it to the end of the stage.

“I want your love.”

“I want your love!”

“Love, love, love, I want your love.”

“I want your love, I want your love!”

You bent down and leaned in close to the neared guest, her face going beat red as you continued without missing a beat.

“I want your psycho, your vertigo stick. I want you in my room when the baby is sick! I want your love!”

The female yokai rapidly fanned herself as you continued the chorus, the DIGG members behind you pouring their soul into the background verse as they continued to play their instruments, Honey Badger’s tongue was sticking out as she shredded the guitar.

You looked up at the bird yokai and saw that her face was leaning on one of her arms, her other claw playing with her drink with boredom.

Alright, time to crank this up a notch.

“You know that I want you, and you know that I need you. I want it bad, a bad romance!”

And with a loud yell, you ripped off your cloak, revealing the outfit you choose for this concert. The goth-like outfit that covered you shined in the spotlight and the golden gleam of the lanterns, the black and leather almost gave an edge to your demeanor as you raged out the rest of the chorus.

“Caught in a bad romance!”

The ogre’s fingers were tapping against his thigh as you continued to dance on stage, and then his eyes were taking in every detail of your body and clothes as you revealed yourself under the dark cape and now the guests were roaring your name, well the DIGGS name. But they reached out for you as if you were famous, and the way you performed as if it was a walk in the park almost made him laugh. He had to keep himself still so he wouldn’t stand with the rest of the yokai, but it was difficult for him not to join the raised hands of ‘rock and roll’ symbol and to join the entertained crowd. Danny and Mickey would never believe that this way you on stage, Leonard still couldn’t wrap his head around it even with you being at the climax of the song.

The green yokai turned just in time to see Miss. MacQuoid let out a yawn and she whispered something to her bodyguard. Leonard quickly looked back at you, his hands already raising up to grab your attention.

Your eyes rolled over to him and followed his concealed signal up to the theatre balcony, your eyes growing wide to see the rich yokai getting her things ready as if she was leaving.

Crap! Crap! She isn’t entertained, she’s not into the performance! There’s got to be something I could do?! She’s into romance, what else would she want?

You turned back to Leonard as Honey Badger and Groundhog continued to growl the harmony, your mind traveling to an idea that could end horribly, or might end up saving you all.

Alright, Leonard, get ready to have your world rocked.

You kicked one of the small spotlights that were screwed into the stage onto Leonard, his eyes squinting against the bright blaze. Your hands worked against the microphone and pulled the mic out of its hold, your eyes on target as you jumped off the stage.

“I want your love, and I want your revenge. I want your love- I don’t wanna be friends.”

Your hips slowly twisted back and forth as you were inches away from the leader of the Mud Dogz, his eyes expanding in panic. Your hand then hooked under his tie and you lightly pulled him up from his seat, your fingers digging into his tie. You didn’t know if it was the vibration of the music but your body was trembling, the end of your nails clawing at his suit as he towered over you.

“Je veux ton amour, Et je veux ta revanche, J' veux ton amour,” your voice curled with yearn as you released his tie and started to circle him, your eyes looking over at Miss. MacQuoid for a split second, and relief flooded over you to see her eyes locked on the both of you, enjoyment flushed over her face.

“I don’t wanna be friends.”

“I don’t wanna be friends!”

You were twirling around him now, your body pushing into his as you made eye-contact with him and couldn’t help but feel pride rise in your stomach at the red that crossed his face. The fear, and confusion, and the arousal that boiled in Leonard’s stomach was almost too much to bear. Was he supposed to go along with this? Or act dumbfounded? Or kiss you right then and there?!

I don’t wanna be friends.”

“I don’t wanna be friends!”

The perfume/cologne you were wearing was overpowering as you continued to circle him, the leather and rough patches of your clothes tingled against his bare skin and he had to ball his hands into fists to stop them from going to you. Your mouth was agape to sooth out the words of the song and to even think about those lips being against his- wait what were the lyrics to the song again?

“No, I don’t wanna be friends!”

“I don’t wanna be friends!”

I don’t wanna be friends?

You were in front of him now, a seductive smile on your face as you inched yourself closer to him, the smell of mint and sweat lingered on your breath and Leonard couldn’t help but shiver as if it was only you two in the whole room.

“Want your bad romance.”

“Want your bad romance!”

You slipped yourself away from him as you said it, your eyes cutting holes into him as you turned back, as if what you were doing to him didn’t satisfy your appetite.

And as the next lyric was about to slip out of your mouth, he finally saw it. Your make-up, the eyeshadow that was brushed against your eyes was blue, the sapphire was stripped with black of your eyeliner.

“Want your bad romance!!”

“Want your bad romance!”

And with the edge of your fingers you pushed him back into his seat and raced away, your voice now echoing through the crowds, the rich yokai’s were screeching the band name, some were even whistling and letting out holliers as you leapt onto one of the tables, your knees hitting the wooden desk as you cried into the mic. Leonard half-heartedly looked up to find Miss.MacQuoid leaning out of her seat, red blush marking her face as she clapped, her beak opening up to let out cheers as well.

Was..was that part of the act? Or was it a confession?

The “Oh’s” of your song spilled into the dimly lit room, the two otherband members were literally jumping in their spots, their rockstar hearts seemed to play the instruments in their hands as you got off the table. With lustful eyes, Leonard watched as you got back into stage, the music ever so slightly deceased as the smoke started to consume you. Before you could disappear under the silvery clouds, you pointed a finger up to the rich parrot and yelled along with the band.

“Want your bad romance!”

And the stage went dark, the spotlights being turned off by the stage workers and the guests of the party were calling for an encore from the band, and Miss. MacQuoid threw a rose down towards the stage.

The leader of the Mud Dogz swayed back into his chair, his fingers running through his fingers, his lungs were having trouble creating breaths and it seemed that his body couldn’t cool down. He barely felt his phone buzz in his pocket until it happened repeatedly.

His green hand pulled it out and saw a text from Danny, confirming that they had successfully looted the vault and were heading back to the apartment. The last thing to do was to get you and the two other mutants out of here.

Leonard got himself out of his seat and started to prowl past the other guest members, their voices still rising due to the performance. The ogre listened to the rich civilians talk about you, some wanted to meet you, some wanted your autograph, but some were envious of you, some thought you were a sleeze.

A growl built in Leonard’s throat but he continued to the door that led to the backstage. He was glad to find that he had beat any of the yokai’s or Miss. MacQuoid there. He opened the door and snuck past a few of the bodyguards that were stationed back there and he briskly found your changing room and barged in, the door slamming behind him before one of the henchmen could find him.

“Be glad I wasn’t changing.”

Leonard turned to see you sitting in front of a massive mirror, collections of make-up and clothes spilled over the vanity and a tray of water was next to you. Half of your make-up was off, a wipe sat firmly in your hand with the aftermath of it.

“Be glad that I didn’t get caught trying to find you. Where are Groundhog and Honey Badger?”

“I told them to get out while they could, I wanted this off first. I don’t understand how those girls wear it all the time.”

You were out of the strapped leather and back into your regular clothes and familiarity drowned over the ogre to see you back in your style. He eyed the blue that lingered on the other half of your face and he looked down at his wrist, where he had wrapped his bandana that was usually around his head, the blues almost identical.

“Did you have fun singing?”

You turned back to look at him, a smile on your face. Strong, silent, and cautious Leonard now looked like a little boy asking for your autograph. You messed with the make-up that was in your hands as you got up from your seat, your feet taking you over to him.

“Did you enjoy the show?”

Who was this new you? And why did he crave more of it?

Even with the expensive scents this place gave you, he could still make out your scent that he held dear. Your now natural and soft face was close to his, your skin shined with the cleaning wipe and the overshadow of black still lined against your eyes. The lights that hung around the room and the one that collected around the mirror brought out features that Leonard found most endearing about you.

“Yes.”

And then he kissed you.

#rottmnt #rottmnt mud dogs x reader #rottmnt mud dogs #rottmnt mud dogz #rottmnt loathsome leonard #tmnt #rottmnt mud dogz x reader #rottmnt leonard x reader #rottmnt loathsome leonard x reader #Spotify

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alirhi · 3 years

Text

jfc FINALLY

Ugh. I have been fighting with my muse to get this done for two months. And I was actually going to stretch it to line up more or less with the movie's timeline, but honestly... I'm just so burnt 😂 So this is what you get.

Title: Monday Chapter: Oneshot Fandom: Monday Rating: R/NC17 (I mean, have you seenthe movie?) Pairing: Mickey/OC Summary: What if, instead of Chloe, Mickey met a woman that night who was actually good for him and whom he was compatible with? WARNINGS: swearing, sex (not explicit; I rarely if ever write smut, but still) Notes: I hate Chloe. Omfg I hate her so much. So I fixed it XD Yes, I literally rewrote the entire movie with a different love interest. Well... most of it lol. I get bored, okay? Lol. Oh, and the girl is actually a character I yanked from one of my original stories lol. I didn't make her up on the spot for this (I'm too lazy for that XD). Tweaking her to fit the setting was kind of a bitch, as she's from a fantasy series, so if she seems kind of Mary Sue-ish...sorry.

“You have a nose for American cheese!”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Come on, that girl looks insane!”

“What?” Looking surprised, Argyris turned and looked where his friend was pointing, and then laughed. “Not her, you idiot! The ginger-snap over there!”

The girl in question, a lithe, pretty thing with a wild mass of red hair that she constantly shoved impatiently out of her face was dancing alone a few feet away from the angry-looking blonde Mickey had thought he'd been talking about. She was gorgeous, he had to admit.

“Go and talk to her, man!”

He pointed to the turntables in front of him, impatiently reminding Argyris, “No, I'm working!”

“Come on,” the other man taunted, “I know your playlist inside-out! It's the same R&B shit, and then a little bit of disco!”

“It's not R&B, and it's not disco!”

“This song is twenty fuckin' minutes long! Come on!”

“Hey!” Mickey grimaced, hastily yanking his headphones off and setting them down as he was dragged off toward the redhead. “Fuck!”

All puffed up with pride – and way too much to drink – Argyris pushed Mickey when they drew close to the girl, so that he slammed right into her. Laughing, he patted her shoulder, but his mirth was short-lived. She grabbed his hand and twisted his arm up behind his back.

“Put your hands on a girl you don't know again. I dare you.”

Mickey covered his mouth with one hand to hide his laughter as his friend writhed in the deceptively delicate-looking girl's grip.

“Alright, alright! I'm sorry!” Laughing as he was released, Argyris went to put a hand on each of their shoulders, took one look at the girl, and just hung off of Mickey's shoulder, instead. “You're an American... You're an American! You're a man, you're a woman! There you go!”

“Yeah, crazy kismet,” she snapped, rolling her eyes. “Two Americans out of their natural deep-fried, flag-waving habitat at the same time! Imagine!”

Undaunted, the drunk Greek simply shrugged and flounced off with a flippant, “Whatever. Have fun!”

“Sorry about him,” Mickey said immediately, smiling when she turned and smiled at him. At least she didn't seem to be judging him by the company he kept.

“Friend of yours?”

“Argyris? Yeah.” He grinned. “He's kind of an idiot, but he's a good guy.”

She laughed. “I'll take your word for it. Aren't you the DJ? Should you be over here?”

“No,” he admitted with a laugh, “but I'm fine for a few minutes. You wanna dance?”

“I'd love to.”

She was tall, he realized as he spun her around; in the little barely-there heels she was wearing, they stood eye to eye. Clearly drunk, though, she lost her balance every few seconds and crashed into him with a laugh, occasionally giving up on righting herself and just resting her head on his shoulder.

Mickey grimaced as he heard the song beginning to wind down, but the girl hanging off of him only smiled and patted his chest. “Go on! Get back to work. I'll be here when you're done.”

“Any chance I could convince you to come around the other side?” He gave her his most charming grin, and felt a little warm inside when she laughed.

“Why, so you can stare down my top the whole time?”

With a shrug, he admitted, “I've been doing that anyway, so why not?”

“Honesty!” She grinned and kissed his cheek. “I like it. Alright, you gorgeous lech! Get back up there. We'll see what I can do about your view.”

He only made it another hour or so, with the girl coming up to him every few minutes with another drink, and occasionally flashing him from the spot she'd found in front of him. Queuing up enough songs to play through the end of the party, he hopped down off the podium and ran over to her, tugging her close for the kiss he'd been dying for since Argyris had first pulled him over to her. “You wanna get out of here?”

“You sure? What about-”

Mickey shook his head, smiling. “It'll run til they all pass out. No one'll touch my stuff, not here. Come on!”

“Okay, yeah.” She shrugged and laughed, allowing him to pull her through the throng of dancing people and away from the party. “Fuck it. Let's go!”

The next morning, naked, hungover, and covered in sand, they were nudged awake by a police officer while an angry lady yelled about their indecency. The officer waited for them to scramble back into their clothes and then cuffed them both, ushering them into the back of a cruiser.

Despite the situation, Mickey couldn't keep the silly smile off of his face. At least the cops had been kind enough to cuff their hands in front of them, allowing him to hold his out to the girl beside him. “Hi. I'm Mickey.”

She laughed, the realization that they'd never introduced themselves clearly dawning in her bright green eyes. “Beck.”

“Nice to meet you.” He shook her hand, but couldn't hide his slight confusion. “That a first name or a last name?”

“It's short for my first name.” She was still smiling, but there was a dangerous glint in her eyes as she added, “Call me 'Becky' once and I'll be facing real prison time at the end of this ride, and you'll be missing body parts.”

With a slightly nervous laugh, he nodded. “Alright, noted. Beck it is!”

“And, nice to meet you, too.”

There was the briefest of conversations at the police station, the sandy couple signed themselves out, and then Mickey persuaded one of the officers to give them a lift back to the beach.

“You want a ride?”

Beck grinned, one ruddy eyebrow arching up. “I still need to clean up from the 'ride' last night.”

Laughing, Mickey shook his head. “I'll never say 'no' to more of that, but that's not what I meant.”

“I know.” She shrugged, snarky grin turning into an almost bashful smile. “And yeah, I'd love a ride. Thanks.”

He loaned her his helmet and, after getting directions from her, drove her to her hotel. It seemed like that would be the end of it... and he hated that thought. “So, what're you doing tonight?”

“Packing and sleeping,” she told him with a laugh, leaning against the building. “I gotta be on a plane Monday morning, and I hate leaving things to the last minute.”

“You're leaving?”

With a grin and a snarky air kiss, she teased, “Missing me already, lover boy?”

Mickey shrugged, grinning. “Maybe I am. I like you, is that so bad?” He beckoned, and was somewhat surprised when she walked right over to him. Still smiling like a fool, he grabbed her by the waistband of her shorts and pulled her close for a kiss. “Come with me tonight, for a proper sendoff.”

“Come with you where?”

“I'm DJing on an island.” Thumb sliding under her clothes to slide over her hip, he wheedled, “Come on. Come with me.”

“I need to shower. I'm all sandy and sticky from last night.” Beck gave him just long enough to deflate, and then she smirked and nipped his jaw. “Care to join me?”

“Fuck yes!” He was off his moped in a flash, following the laughing redhead as she took his hand and tugged him into the hotel. Giggling like hyenas, the pair made their way up to Beck's room, stopping every few steps for one to yank the other close for another kiss. Mickey was on cloud nine. This girl was fun, she was sassy and wild, and he couldn't get enough.

It seemed she couldn't get enough, either. They'd barely stepped into the shower before Beck was on her knees in front of him, her hand on his ass and his hand tangled in her hair as she sucked him off. He leaned back against the wall, tugging lightly on her hair and shuddering as he felt her moan around him.

“Fuck... oh, fuck, you're good at that! Holy shit... Stop. Stopstopstop!” With a little half-smile at her look of confusion, he tugged her back to her feet and kissed her. “You're fucking amazing. God damn, you are good with that mouth! But that's not what I want.”

Beck grinned, a playful glint in her bright green eyes that made him weak in the knees. “That's not a good idea.”

“Oh, no?” He backed her up against the wall, nuzzling her neck as his hand drifted down between her legs. “Funny... You don't seem to really believe that.”

“I definitely want you to fuck me til I can't move,” she assured him, shaking as she tried desperately not to laugh. “But it's not a good idea-” Her words turned into a startled whimper as Mickey hoisted her up by her thighs and slid into her to the hilt.

“I think it's a great idea,” he purred, biting her shoulder. Then he almost dropped her, and they both cracked up.

“The wall's slippery! This isn't smart.”

“No, it's definitely not smart,” he agreed, turning so that he was holding her up in mid-air instead of bracing her against the wall. “But that doesn't make it not a good idea.”

Beck laughed, clinging to him for dear life. “You're just gonna hold me up?”

“Yep.”

“The whole time?”

“You don't think I can do it?” Mickey grinned, bouncing her a few times just to prove her wrong. “You weight nothing, baby girl. I got this.” She was surprisingly light... but she was also a grown woman almost the same height as him. His pride would never let him admit it aloud, but there was no way he was going to be able to fuck her like this for long.

Just as he was wracking his somewhat foggy brain for a solution, he saw light dawning in Beck's eyes and waited. “Counter!” She nodded toward the sink, and only then did he realize they hadn't even closed the shower curtain, and the bathroom floor was getting soaked. “Put me on the counter.”

“I thought we were supposed to be getting cleaned up.” Even as he teased her, he was carefully stepping out of the tub, blessing her foresight when she grabbed a towel and threw it down just before he set his foot down, and carrying her across the bathroom.

Beck snickered and kissed him. “No point getting clean until we're done getting dirty. Shut up and fuck me.”

“Yes, ma'am!”

A little while later, they stumbled across another logistical issue Mickey hadn't considered.

“You are not putting dirty clothes on a clean body!” Beck insisted, prying his – pretty nasty at this point, he had to admit – clothes from his hands. “That's disgusting!”

“Well, what the fuck else am I supposed to wear? Clearly, I can't just run around naked. We got arrested for that this morning!”

“Pity,” she teased, eyeing him in a way that made him wonder if they were ever actually going to leave her hotel room. “You're the best view in Athens.”

“Maybe they arrested us out of jealousy, then.” Mickey shook his head, though he couldn't help chuckling a little, despite his frustration. “Either way, I'm kinda stuck. It's either be gross, or don't go anywhere.”

“As much as the thought of keeping you trapped here as my sex slave appeals to me...” With another mocking grin, Beck turned and started going through her dresser drawers. “I think I can help you out.”

“I'm not wearing your clothes.”

“They're less flamboyant than what you do wear.”

“They won't fit!”

She tossed him a tee shirt and a pair of cargo shorts that proved him very wrong. They were huge. At his questioning stare, she shrugged.

“I always pack a couple of cute outfits when I travel, and the rest is super baggy; at least three sizes too big. I like to be comfortable.”

“Convenient.” He stared at the shorts in his hands, and then at the belt she handed him a few seconds later. “Am I supposed to wear your underwear, too?”

Beck snorted and walked away, patting his shoulder as she passed him. “I don't wear underwear.”

“Then I guess I kind of am wearing yours.” Even as the joke was tumbling out of his mouth, he knew it was lame, but they still both laughed. Then he glanced at his watch and winced. “Shit, we gotta go.”

“What?”

He waited for the dress she was pulling on to settle into place and then wrapped his arms around her, tugging her back against his chest. “We gotta go. If we don't catch the next ferry, we're gonna be late.”

She flinched. “Okay, two seconds.” The girl moved like lightning. Mystified, Mickey watched as she yanked on a pair of canvas sneakers, grabbed her wallet and cell phone – which she then stuffed in the pockets of the shorts he was wearing – grabbed a hair tie, and ran for the door. In no time, she'd strangled her wild red curls into submission in a low ponytail. They hadn't even reached the elevator yet.

“How did you do that?”

“Do what?”

Handing her his helmet, Mickey shook his head. “I think you got dressed faster than I did! I thought girls always take forever to get ready.”

Laughing, Beck rolled her eyes. As she settled on the back of the moped and tucked her skirt around her legs for decency, she told him, “I spent two years in the jungle with nothing but what I could fit in a backpack. Low maintenance is kinda my thing. The fewer steps to getting ready, the less time it takes.”

“That explains so much.” He stared at her for a moment, and then shook his head and grumbled as he slid into place in front of her and started the moped, “And raises so many more questions!”

“Full disclosure: I will probably answer none of them, as I'm very likely never going to see you again after tonight.”

Well, that was a depressing dose of reality he wasn't ready for. Not one to dwell on things, though, Mickey simply decided to have as much fun as he could with this girl while she was around, and treasure the steamy memories.

They made it to the ferry just in time. Making sure there was no one else around, Mickey smirked and tugged Beck into his lap, one hand sliding up her thigh. He moved slowly, giving her plenty of time to push him away if she wanted; she simply arched an eyebrow at his questioning look and grabbed his wrist, tugging his hand closer.

“Why do you think I'm wearing a dress?”

Fuck, he loved this girl!

They were pretty much attached at the hip the whole day – literally, when they could steal a few minutes alone. While he was DJing, she was dancing like a lunatic, front and center. Those piercing green eyes never strayed from him; he knew, because he couldn't look away from her, either. Once he was free, they danced together for a little while, but it didn't take long for Beck to grow bored and yank him down the beach, away from the party. They found a dark, hidden nook to be alone, spent the night hopelessly wrapped up in each other, and then cuddled as they watched the sun come up.

“Gods, this place is so beautiful!”

Mickey chuckled at the plural, but didn't ask about it. He had a more important question for her: “You really gonna leave all this behind?”

“I have to.” She didn't sound any happier about leaving than he was about letting her leave. “I gotta get home.”

“Where's home?”

“Boston. You?”

He grinned and nudged her. “Athens, baby. Been here seven years!”

“Okay, but where before here?” she prodded with a laugh. “You're obviously not Greek; you don't even speak it!”

“Do you?”

Beck sat up a little straighter, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “Nai.”

“Showoff.”

“One word is being a showoff?” Beck laughed, shaking her head. “You've been here seven years, and you don't know a single word of the language?”

Mickey scowled, feeling defensive. “Everybody speaks English!”

“Wow.” She wasn't smiling anymore. She actually looked and sounded pretty pissed off. “That is astoundingly arrogant. And completely American, so clearly your obnoxious friend with no boundaries was right; it's not just a funny accent, you actually are American.”

“You're an American, too!”

“By birth,” she snapped, “not by choice. And I fucking hope not by attitude. I don't go stomping around foreign countries with absolutely no respect for their language or customs, expecting everyone around me to cater to my laziness.”

He rolled his eyes, scooting away from her. “Give me a break! Learning another language is hard!”

“Impossible, if you don't even try.”

“Yeah? How many languages do you speak?”

“Fluently?” She held up her hands, ticking each one off on her fingers as she listed them. “English, obviously. Korean, Irish Gaelic, Italian, and German. Passably? Japanese – I can speak it fluently, but I have trouble reading it; the kanji is a nightmare – Greek, Spanish, Portuguese, and Swedish. I can read Latin and Old Norse, and I'm learning Mandarin, but I admit I'm struggling with that one. Mostly for the same reason I can't read Japanese; the writing system.”

Gaping at her, Mickey couldn't formulate a response for a long moment. When his brain finally started working again, all he could think to say was, “Jesus, what the fuck are you, a robot?!”

“I'm an archaeologist,” she told him flatly, still looking irritated. “And I've been traveling since I was seventeen. Been studying at least one language other than English since I was ten. I definitely had an advantage, starting when I still had a little kid's spongy brain, but it's not impossible to learn at any age, if you actually care enough to try.”

“You sound like my ex.” Hoping to distract her from that comment he hadn't meant to make, he hastily asked, “If you love to travel so much, why're you in such a rush to get home?”

Beck sighed, turning to stare out over the water. “I promised my daughter I'd be home in time for her birthday.”

Huh. They had more in common that he'd thought. “You have a kid?”

She nodded. “Two. Two girls.”

“How old?”

“Alice is five,” she murmured, pulling her knees up to her chest and crossing her arms over them. Head pillowed on her arms, she added, “And Madeline's about to turn fourteen.”

“How the hell old are you?!” He hadn't meant to ask so bluntly, but he was so stunned by her daughters' ages that the question just kind of blurted itself out.

Mercifully, Beck laughed a little. “I'm thirty-three. I'll spare you some math – I was nineteen when I had Maddie.”

Mickey shook his head, not sure how to react. In all honesty, she didn't look much older than that now. There was a shadow behind her eyes that he was dying to ask about, but even as thoughtless as he could be, he knew when to just not go there. Instead, he told her softly, “My son is six.”

“What's his name?”

He smiled. As much as the situation with his ex sucked, he loved his son, and thinking about him always brought a little smile to Mickey's face. “Hector.”

The look on Beck's pretty face as she watched him like a hawk made him blush, though he wasn't sure why. There was just something about that direct green gaze that made him feel like she could read his mind. “He's the real reason you don't want to leave Greece, isn't he?” A spot-on guess like that certainly did nothing to dispel the notion.

He nodded. “Yeah. Yep. His mom hates my guts, but I don't care. There's nothing I wouldn't do to stay in his life. I actually, um... I have a room for him, at my place. If she'll ever let me take him, you know, just for a weekend or whatever... His room is ready and waiting for him.”

“All you can do is keep trying. Put in the work, be the best dad you can be, and hope for the best.”

Unsure what to say to that, Mickey changed the subject with an awkward smile. “So... Alice? She blonde, like Alice in Wonderland?��

Beck snorted, shaking her head. “No, she has black hair, like her dad.” She paused and then shook her head again with a bemused smirk on her face. “Actually, both of my girls look like their dads – dark hair, big blue eyes.” Smirk turning into a grin, she nudged him. “Guess I've got a type.”

“'Dads,' huh?” He grinned, too, and nudged her right back. “Plural?”

“You gonna get all judgy on me, now?” Her tone was light and teasing, but her eyes promised a whole lot of pain if he answered wrong.

Mickey just laughed. “Nope, no judgment. I think you've seen enough of what I'm like this weekend to know I wouldn't have the right.”

“Good answer.”

“I don't want you to leave.” He watched her go rigid and sighed, shaking his head. “I'm not gonna try to stop you. If you were leaving for literally any other reason, I might, but I'd never dream of trying to keep a mom away from her kid. I just... I really like you, and I wish you didn't have to go.”

She shrugged a little, staring out over the water again. “To be honest, I don't wanna go, either. I mean, I'm dying to see my girls again, being away from them is always painful, but... This place is so beautiful. I would love to stay a little longer.”

Not a single word about whether or not she liked him. That stung, but he did his best to ignore it. “Why don't you bring them with you when you travel?”

“I used to,” she admitted. “When it was just Maddie, I brought her everywhere with me and tutored her myself. I tried to keep it going after Alice was born, but it was rough. They got tired of always being on the road and not having kids their age to play with, so now I leave them with my sister when I'm away.”

“Wait, you taught her yourself?” He laughed, shaking his head in dismay. “Are you sure you're not a robot?”

Beck laughed, too, rolling her eyes. “I'm sure. There's more down time than you think in archaeology; plenty of time to keep an already smart girl from falling behind in her schooling.”

“They must take after their mom. I mean, you speak a zillion languages, so you gotta be pretty damn smart.” She was so reckless and carefree, it was hard to picture this woman digging in the dirt for broken clay pots, or wrangling two children to teach them math. From what he'd seen, it felt like Beck was describing a completely different person. He didn't want to offend her, so he refrained from pointing out that she came across less brilliant, multilingual career woman in her thirties and more Girls Gone Wild: Athens.

“Cheapann tú gur leathcheann mé.” He had no idea what the hell she'd just said, but he could tell from the look on her face that he hadn't been as good at keeping his thoughts to himself as he'd hoped. She looked both offended and darkly amused. “Pensi che una ragazza non possa essere intelligente e libera? Eísai vlákas, Mickey.”

He didn't bother asking for a translation; her tone told him he didn't want to know. “How many languages was that?”

Beck grinned. “Three. Gaelic, Italian, and Greek. I sometimes mix a few in the same sentence – I constantly mix Japanese and Korean at home; it makes my girls laugh – but I figured I'd be nice.”

Mickey opened his mouth to say he wouldn't have noticed the difference, and then stopped. He had noticed the difference; the lilt of her voice changed dramatically with each language. That was how he'd realized that she'd been speaking more than one in the first place. “I kinda wanna hear that mix, now. Are the languages that similar?”

“No.” She laughed. “Not at all. They share some slang thanks to pop culture, and both borrowed a lot from China, but they're structured differently, and the way they're spoken is different.”

“Then how do you mix them?”

“I speak them both,” she said with a shrug and another laugh. “If you speak more than one language well enough, they don't have to be similar to still flow. Like...” She smirked, leaning against him and batting her eyes. “Kimi wa baboya, demo... mada jowayo.”

“Showoff.”

“Yes.” Cracking up, she pulled him back to lie on the warm sand with her and cuddled close. “That time, absolutely.”

“Do you think you'll ever come back?” He'd been trying so hard to avoid the subject, but he just couldn't get his mind to budge from the fact that he didn't want her to leave.

With a fond smile, she kissed him before teasing lightly, “You gonna miss me, honey?”

Mickey grinned, hoping she couldn't see that he was feeling more melancholy than amused. “I think mostly I'll miss the sex. It's hard to find a woman who can keep up with me.”

“Oh, is that so?” She laughed and tickled him, making him squirm. Then she stopped, a warm, almost wistful smile on her face. “I'm gonna miss you, too, you know.”

Forced playful grin turning into a soft, genuine smile, he pulled her closer and kissed her. “I was beginning to worry you didn't like me.”

Beck grinned and nuzzled his neck. “The past twenty-four hours wouldn't have happened if I didn't like you.”

Feigning shock, Mickey gasped. “You mean you don't fuck strange men all over Greece indiscriminately?”

“No, that I do all the time,” she joked, hand sliding up one leg of his borrowed shorts. “But I only let the really special ones wear my clothes.”

He laughed, glancing down at himself; he'd forgotten for a second that they were hers. “Right. We should stop at my place so I can change and give these back before I take you back to your hotel.”

Beck sighed, snatching her hand back as if he'd burned her. “Right. Yeah, we should get going.”

Though he still hated that she had to leave, he kept his word and didn't try to stop her. Argyris tried to convince him to make some grand gesture at the airport, but Mickey shut him down with a grumpy, “It's her kid's birthday. I'm not that much of a selfish asshole.”

“I can't believe you're in love with this girl!” Hooting with laughter, Argyris slapped his back. “I'm a fuckin' matchmaker! Who knew?”

“Fuck off, Cupid!” Mickey grinned and shoved him away, hoping the other man couldn't see how shitty he really felt. He moped for a couple of days, barely paying attention to the world around him, just missing the crazy girl with the temper as fiery as her hair.

Then he answered an unexpected knock at his door and was baffled by the sight of a cute, petite brunette with huge blue eyes staring up at him. “Um... Can I help you?”

“Huh.” One dark eyebrow arching up, she called back over her shoulder, “You really do have a type.”

A familiar laugh made Mickey freeze in shock as Beck stepped into view behind the girl, another one in her arms. “I made the mistake of telling Maddie that I met this awesome DJ in Greece-”

“And since I have no friends anyway,” the girl, who he finally realized was Beck's older daughter, Madeline, cut in, “I figured there'd be no problem moving my 'party' somewhere more fun than my aunt's house. For the third year in a row.”

“Jesus, you might look like your dad, but you sound just like your mom!” The words slipped out before he could stop himself. While Madeline rolled her eyes, the little girl in her mother's arms – Alice, he figured – giggled.

“Yeah,” Beck agreed with a grin, moving closer and leaning past her daughters to kiss him. “She's got my snarky attitude. Gods help me. Thankfully, this one's still innocent.” She squeezed Alice tighter against her side, making her giggle again.

“Mommy! You're squishing me!”

“Her? Innocent? Did auntie tell you what she did to my stereo?!”

“It was an accident!”

“My butt it was!”

Wincing, Beck glanced at Mickey and mouthed, 'I'm sorry.' “Girls, enough. What have I told you about bickering in front of strangers?”

“I mean, you also tell us not to spread our legs for strangers, and yet...”

“Madeline Fiona O'Brien!”

“What?!” Eyes wide and looking frustrated, Madeline gestured to Mickey. “I'm kinda right!”

He couldn't hold it in anymore. Leaning on the door frame to stay upright, Mickey burst out laughing. God help this woman, he thought as he struggled to get his breath back. Her daughter's exactly like her!

Face even redder than her hair, Beck grumbled, “I did not tell her we slept together.”

“You couldn't shut up about him and your clothes smelled like dude. Doesn't take a genius.”

“Maddie, couldja stop? I kinda wanna see more of Greece than two buildings. If mom drags us home early cuz you're being a jerk, I will kick your seat the whole way back to Boston!”

“I'll let her.”

Mickey had just about gotten his laughter under control. Still chuckling, he yanked Beck into his arms and gave her a long, slow kiss. “You are dreaming if you think I'm letting you leave again.”

“That doesn't sound kidnappy at all!”

Laughing again, he released the blushing redhead only to trap Madeline in his arms and tickle her until she squeaked. “And you, little miss Queen of Sarcasm!” With a grin, he kissed the top of her head and released her, pleased to see that she was smiling. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks.”

As he stepped aside to let them in, it finally dawned on him that he'd never actually worked a child's party before. He was used to crowds of rowdy drunk Greeks, not two innocent little girls. He didn't even know any kids, besides his own! He glanced helplessly at Beck, who snickered and kissed his jaw.

“Just do whatever; I can keep an eye on them. Maddie was more interested in the change of scenery than an actual party.”

“Does she really have no friends?”

She shrugged, turning to watch her daughters awkwardly settle on the couch and begin nudging and poking each other repeatedly. “She's never been the most social kid in the world. Around their own age groups, Liss is the bubbly extrovert and Maddie can't be bothered; she wanted to hang with kids her own age until she realized they annoy the hell out of her.”

“Argyris might know some people with kids...” He rolled his eyes. “He'll think I'm nuts, trying to hunt down teenagers, though.”

Beck laughed and shook her head. “No, really, don't worry about it. We don't even have to actually throw a party-”

Cutting her off with a kiss, Mickey insisted, “Oh, she's getting a party. When is her birthday, anyway?”

“Today, actually.”

He flinched, glancing at the clock, and then relaxed. It was still pretty early. “She's getting a party,” he repeated firmly. “She's fourteen! That... has no special significance in any culture I've heard of, but the kid still deserves some fun on her damn birthday. Especially if the last few have been disappointing.”

“The day after is pretty significant in our culture,” she murmured, so softly he almost didn't catch it.

“Is it?” Wasn't she American? He seemed to recall a whole conversation that almost turned into an argument about it. “Since when?”

Beck blushed again, looking uncomfortable. “Never mind.”

“...Girls, make yourselves at home. I need to talk to your mom for a minute.”

“You're talking now.”

He almost wrote that off as another snarky response, until he realized it had come from Alice. Looking innocently confused, she stared at him with almost comically large blue eyes, and he smiled. “In private,” he clarified as gently as he could as he grabbed Beck's wrist and tugged her down the hall toward his bedroom.

“Door open at all times!”

With a huff, Beck dug her heels in and spun around to glare at Madeline. “Who's the mom, here?”

“Sometimes I wonder.”

“Madeline.” Wrenching free of Mickey's grasp, she crossed her arms over her chest and stared her defiant offspring down. “Who's the mom?”

Glowering right back, Madeline mirrored her pose and grudgingly admitted, “You are.”

“Good. Now that we've got that cleared up, how about you show our host a little respect?”

Madeline's face was red as a tomato, but she still looked more angry and resentful than contrite, until she took a deep breath and turned to Mickey. With a surprising note of sincerity, she grumbled, “Sorry, Mickey.”

“Jet lag gets the best of all of us. Maybe you two should take a nap while your mom and I talk.” He didn't know what the hell else to say. He couldn't say 'it's okay' and undermine her mother, and 'you're forgiven' sounded kind of dickish. With an awkward smile, he waved and resumed dragging Beck down the hall.

As soon as the bedroom door was closed behind them, Beck sighed and leaned against it, looking worn out. “I'm so sorry about her. She's been so bitchy lately; my sister said she was even copping an attitude with her, which she almost never does.”

“She's probably just tired and been missing her mom.” In truth, he thought Madeline's sass was funny as hell, but he wasn't about to step into the middle of a mother-daughter war. Instead, he focused on his own curiosity. “What 'culture' celebrates the day after a birthday?”

She winced. “It's nothing, Mickey. Forget it.”

Weird. “What's the big deal? I'm just curious.”

“Alright, fine.” Looking and sounding resigned, she muttered, “If you're gonna judge or laugh, might as well get it out of the way – I'm a witch.”

Mickey stared at her. Whatever he'd been expecting her to say, it wasn't that. “...A witch?”

“I don't ride a broomstick and I can't turn you into a toad.” Oof. Defensive. Judging by her tone, she'd had this conversation before, and it hadn't gone well. “My sister's a witch, too, and so are my girls. There's an old tradition in the craft; at thirteen we find our deity, if we're meant to serve one, and a year and a day later, we pledge to their service.”

Light dawned. “Oh, that's why you always say 'Gods' instead of 'God'! That makes sense.” Who was he to judge? He wasn't particularly religious, but was any one religion really any weirder than the next? Curiosity abated, he brushed it off and tugged her into his arms. “My very own Sabrina.”

Beck snorted and dropped her head onto his shoulder. “Sometimes I feel more like Sarah Sanderson.”

“You really want me to throw a rager for your fourteen-year-old?” He didn't know what to say about her Hocus Pocus reference – 'horny and ditzy? Sounds about right' was...probably not the right thing – so he decided to just jump back to the original topic.

She shrugged. “I honestly don't know what to do for her. Coming back here was her idea, but I kinda doubt it had much to do with her birthday. She wasn't kidding about wondering which one of us is the parent; that kid's been trying to take care of me since she was little.”

“Why?”

Sighing, she stepped back out of his arms. She looked so sad and broken suddenly that he wished he'd never asked. “I would love to say that it's just who she is – and it is, to a point. Some people are just natural caregivers, and Maddie's definitely one of them. But I was a mess before Liss was born. Maddie's had to deal with a lot of bullshit, and it made her grow up too fast.”

That settled it in Mickey's mind. As he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket with one hand and opened the bedroom door with the other, he told her again, “She's getting a fucking party.”

Three hours and a lot of yelling at Agryris to get him to stop laughing later, he was setting up speakers in front of his apartment building, surrounded by what looked like every kid in Athens between twelve and sixteen, along with their parents. It definitely wasn't his usual crowd, to say the least, but they were friendly enough. Most importantly, Madeline was already smiling and laughing.

Remembering the posters he'd seen around town, he pulled his phone out again and called a number he hadn't used in quite a while. “Well, well. So you're in Athens. What do you know? I have a favor to ask you...”

“OHMYGOD! BASTIAN!”

Mickey grinned. Clearly, he'd made the right call, and it was earning him hugs galore. For the first time all day, Madeline was acting like a teenage girl, bouncing up and down and screeching with joy as Bastian made her way through the party. With a bright smile, she hugged the birthday girl and smoothed her dark curls back off of her face before approaching Mickey and hugging him. The second she moved back, Madeline launched herself at him, squeezing so tightly he thought she might crack a few ribs. And then her laughing mother replaced her, and he'd never felt so popular.

“Hell of a dad move,” Beck teased, grinning at him as she stepped aside and Maddie barreled into him again.

“Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!”

Laughing, Mickey lifted her up and kissed the top of her head. “Happy birthday.” She was too light; idly, he made a mental note to ask what the hell Beck and her sister were feeding these kids, or failing to feed them. Then he realized he sort of was acting like Maddie's dad and he blushed, setting her down.

As she ran off to dance with her little sister, he pulled Bastian up onto the platform and picked up the mic. “First of all – let's hear it for the birthday girl!” He pointed, and grinned when the revelers around him cheered, making the brunette blush. “Maddie O'Brien! You said you have no friends back in the States-” Boos echoed around them, and her color deepened. “-So I thought, what could make a better birthday present than a couple hundred Greek friends?”

The crowd cheered again, and a few “YEAH, MADDIE” shouts made the girl in question laugh, covering her face with the hand not holding tight to Alice's little wrist. Mickey noticed that she did that a lot; whenever the younger girl wasn't in her mother's arms, she was in her sister's tight, protective grip.

“What do you guys think?” He shouted into the mic. “This girl's really cool, right? You wanna be Maddie's friends, and show her how much better everything is here in Greece?”

The cheers were deafening. Mickey was grinning like a fool, and was pleased to see that so was Madeline. Big blue eyes shining, she stared up at him like he was her hero, and for a minute, life was pretty damn good. He'd die before admitting it aloud, at least so soon, but he could easily see a bright, happy future where he was stepdad to these two beautiful little girls, and they doted over their step-brother Hector, the way Maddie doted over Alice. He glanced at their mother, and couldn't help getting just a little choked up when he saw an identical look of joy and appreciation on her beautiful face. Man, it was nice to be the hero.

Before he could get too emotional and ruin the party, he pointed to Bastian. “You guys know who this is, right?” Another enthusiastic roar; he was a little jealous this time, but shoved it down and smiled. “Well, she's gonna take over for a little while, so make sure you give her some love, alright?”

Yanking her into one more tight hug, he handed the reins over to Bastian and hopped down. Beck immediately threw her arms around him and kissed him. “You are amazing, you know that? I descend on you unannounced with a grouchy teenager in tow, and you give her the best fucking night of her life!”

“All in a day's work,” he joked, squeezing her. “She seems like a great kid; they both do. I couldn't just do nothing and let her be miserable.”

“Hector is lucky.” She was grinning so wide, her face hurt; Mickey only knew because he was doing the same. “He's got a really great dad. If you'd do something like this for a kid you've never even met before, I can only imagine the lengths you'd go to for your own.”

“Think you can pass that praise on to my ex? Maybe she'll actually let me see him.”

Smile fading, she gripped his head with both hands and pulled him down to press their foreheads together. “If you want me to, I'll help you fight for him. You deserve to see your son, and he deserves to know his dad.”

“How long are you staying this time?” He didn't want to talk about Hector suddenly; not at a party surrounded by strangers and their children.

Seeming to sense his mood, Beck smiled and glanced at her giggling daughters. They were hopping around like lunatics to the music, surrounded by kids Maddie's age. She looked like she was having the time of her life. “From the looks of things now? Forever.” Mickey thought she was joking, but the look on her face stopped him from laughing it off. “I've never seen her so happy. Athens might just become home.”

“I hope so.” He shrugged, forcing a chipper smile to hide the desperately hopeful one he couldn't quite keep in. “It did for me!”

“We'll see.”

Unlike most of the parties he'd worked, this one started winding down fairly early as kids hugged Maddie, wished her a happy birthday, and were ushered home by their tired parents. Alice was asleep in Mickey's arms, her tiny body limp as a rag doll and her silky black curls tickling his nose. As the last of her party guests wished her well and left, Madeline hurried over to him and cuddled up to the side not currently occupied by the dead weight of her sister.

“Thank you, Mickey.”

“Did you have fun?” She nodded, and he smiled softly, stroking her dark hair. “Good. Let's get inside and get the little one into bed, shall we?”

She glanced around, frowning a little. “Where's mom?”

“Already upstairs.” Grinning, he watched her for a reaction and added casually, “With Bastian.”

Bright blue eyes widening, she gaped at him. “She's staying?”

Mickey laughed. “For tonight, at least, yeah. Come on.”

As they trudged through the door of his apartment a few minutes later, Mickey found himself wishing he'd stayed outside.

“No way!” Beck whipped around to gape at him while Bastian laughed. “You didn't tell me you were in a band!”

“Oh lord,” Madeline grumbled under her breath. “Get something pierced and she'll propose to you by midnight, I swear.”

Choking on a startled laugh, he lowered Alice into her sister's waiting arms. “Put her in Hector's bed. You and your mom can take mine tonight.” As she obediently wandered down the hall to tuck the younger girl in, Mickey flopped down on the couch beside Beck and tugged her into his arms. “That was a long time ago. Then she got her big break and got all famous, and she didn't need losers like me anymore.”

“Oh, that is such bullshit!” Laughing, Bastian stretched out to kick him. “We got a break. We got a deal. You were every bit a part of all that!”

“Oh, please!” Mickey rolled his eyes. “You never needed me. It was the Bastian Show, and we were just-”

“No! No, what happened was...”

They bickered for a while, going back and forth over who was to blame for Saint Claude's ultimate demise. After a few minutes, Beck excused herself and left the room, leaving the two old friends to catch up. When the argument showed no signs of ending, Mickey huffed and stood up, muttering something about getting a drink as he walked away. He loved Bastian, but damn she could be stubborn!

“What the fuck are you doing?” A glass in each hand, he stared at her as she laid out lines of cocaine on her phone's screen.

“What the fuck does it look like I'm doing?”

“Oh, god.” He grimaced, glancing toward the bedrooms. All quiet, but he didn't know if Beck and Maddie were asleep, or just hiding from the debate. “Come on, let's go in the bathroom.”

“The Brat Pack's asleep. Don't worry about it!”

“You don't know that,” he hissed. “Come on.”

Bastian rolled her eyes, but she allowed him to usher her into the bathroom. “You're paranoid. You barely even know these people! What do you care what they think?”

“I care,” he snapped, though he didn't refuse when she offered him a line. He'd just finished, was still hunched over the phone, when the door opened and he was faced with, basically, his worst nightmare: Madeline was standing in the doorway, hand on the knob.

They both froze, staring at her like deer in headlights. Face completely expressionless, Maddie looked at each of them, then at the line of cocaine still on the phone, and then straight at Mickey. "I just wanted to thank you again for today." Without another word, she calmly turned and left the room, closing the door behind her.

"Shit." Ignoring Bastian's drug-fueled giggle fit, Mickey was on his feet and chasing after the teen in a flash. "Maddie!"

Though her face was still a stony mask, there were tears in her eyes when she whirled around to face him. "I need to talk to you. Now."

"Okay." He gestured to the couch, but she shook her head.

"Outside. I don't wanna wake up mom or Alice."

Nodding, he followed her without another word. At first he'd thought she meant out in the hall, but she didn't stop until they were outside the building. "Maddie, listen-"

"Let her go." Mickey's heart broke when she turned to face him again. Tears running down her cheeks and lower lip trembling, she stared up at him with those huge blue eyes and he almost started crying with her. "You have to let her go. Mom's loyal even when she shouldn't be. She'll never break it off."

"Maddie, I don't want-"

"I only exist because my dad drugged and raped her!" Wiping furiously at her face while he shrank back in horror, she continued more calmly, "She doesn't know I know that, or that he tried to kidnap me a bunch of times when I was little. Auntie told me. She still stayed with him for almost a year. Will hit her, Owen was a toxic psycho, Alex was a racist jerk... Alice's dad was always really nice to us all when he came around, but he almost never did. And I don't know what he did, but he's in jail for life now." With a bitter grimace, she spat, "And you're a druggie."

Maddie's had to deal with a lot of bullshit, and it made her grow up too fast.

Beck's soft voice, so full of pain and regret, echoed in his head as Mickey sank down to sit on the steps and tugged Madeline into his arms. "I'm not a druggie," he assured her as she clung to him and broke down sobbing. "One time thing, kiddo, I promise."

"Like you'd say anything else!"

The little whimper that escaped her as she scooted up his leg to get closer and dropped her head onto his shoulder very nearly made him start crying with her. For all that she insisted he get the hell out of her life, he could tell that she was desperate for someone decent to stay. This poor kid was fourteen going on forty after watching her mom date a string of losers; no wonder she had no faith in men, or in her mother's ability to make sound decisions. He squeezed her a little tighter, not sure what to do or say.

"Mickey, I'm tired," she croaked, making his heart ache for her even more. He knew she didn't mean sleepy; she was tired of being the mature one, and he couldn't say he blamed her. "I'm so tired..."

"Shhh, it's okay, baby," he whispered, rubbing her back. "You can rest now. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. You're my little girl now, okay? And I won't let anything happen to you, or your sister, or your mom. You don't have to take care of her anymore, honey. I will. You just take a breath and be a kid while you can."

"How can I trust you?"

Well, that hurt, but he got where she was coming from. Pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head, he murmured, "I gotta earn that." He pried her loose and pushed her back a little, just enough to be able to look her in the eye. "Do you think you can give me a chance to?"

After a pause that felt like an eternity, Maddie sniffled and nodded. "Okay. But if you hurt her, I'll kick your nuts back up inside."

Laughing, Mickey nodded and smoothed her hair back. "Noted.” A thought occurred to him and he frowned. “Why did you aunt tell you all that? Putting that weight on a kid... That's cruel.”

“I asked,” she admitted with a shrug. “I asked why mom was such a mess, and why I didn't have a dad. So she told me.”

I'd have made some shit up, damn. Even high, he was smart enough not to say that. He chose not to say anything at all, and just held her for a while as the cool night air soothed their frayed nerves and her breathing slowly returned to normal.

“Mickey?”

“Hm?”

Voice a small, timid whisper, she asked, “Do you really wanna be my dad?”

Smiling softly, he kissed her head again and hugged her just a bit tighter. “I am your dad.” When she tensed and let out a frustrated huff, he explained, “I'm in love with your mom, kiddo. And I already love you and your sister. We're family now, and I'm not going anywhere. I promise.”

“You're weird.” He could hear her teasing smile in her voice, and he smiled, too, relieved. “You don't even know us.”

“I know enough. Come on.” Though all he wanted was to sit there and cuddle with her all night, he gently pushed her off his lap and stood. “It's getting late. You should get to bed.”

Sending her off down the hall to his bedroom when they got back upstairs, he collapsed on the couch and sighed. He'd known when he met her that Beck would make his life more interesting... he just had no idea how interesting.

A laugh beside him reminded him of his other guest and he reluctantly opened his eyes. Judging from the way she was twitching and snickering, Bastian had finished the rest of the coke. “That was intense!”

Mickey closed his eyes again. “If it's not already gone, get that shit out of my house.”

“Oh, come on!” She shoved him, grinning impishly. “Don't try to act all virtuous now! You were right there with me, until that kid walked in.”

“'That kid'?” Annoyed now, he sat up and glared at her. “My kid.”

“Not really, though.” Confused, she twisted to glance down the hall, and then back to stare at him. “...Right? I mean, shit, she does kinda look like you...”

He shook his head. “No. Biologically, no, but I don't care. I'm not gonna add my name to the list of guys who've hurt her.”

Bastian snorted, rolling her eyes. “Mickey, you can't just decide to play daddy to this random kid on a whim just because your ex won't let you see your own. She's not yours, and changing your whole life and personality isn't going to change that.”

“I haven't touched that shit in years. I'm not changing on a whim; you just don't know me anymore.”

“Enough,” she challenged, settling back in her seat and staring down her nose at him. “I know you well enough to know this is never gonna work.”

“What isn't?”

“This!” Bastian gestured vaguely around them. “This whole self-domestication shit. You're not some house husband and stepdad – you're a musician. You belong on the road, Mickey! Not shut up in some old lady's apartment playing House with some crazy chick and her walking, talking reminders of past mistakes.”

“Beck,” he snapped, glaring at her. “'That chick's' name is Beck, and her gorgeous daughters are Maddie and Alice. They're not mistakes. Alice is adorable and so smart, and Maddie is fucking awesome and she's been through Hell. I haven't seen you in years and you think you're gonna sit here in my house and tell me who I am and what I want? I don't fucking think so, Bastian.”

“Alright, alright!” She held up her hands in surrender, eyes wide. “Chill. I just miss you, okay? I want you to come on tour with me, like the old days, not sit here and rot away in some mediocre domestic life. You could have so much more!”

Mickey sighed, staring off into space for a moment. Some part of him was drawn to her offer, but that wasn't him anymore. He didn't actually want to tour with her, he just hated feeling settled; at some point in his wild youth, stability had begun to feel like stagnation, and now he found himself often desperate to avoid it, even if it came with everything he truly wanted.

He thought about Beck, and her bright smile and her two beautiful, lonely daughters, and he thought about Hector. Beck had been spot-on; as much as he did love Greece, Mickey had really only stayed this long because of his son. He wanted to be in Hector's life. Now he wanted to be in Maddie and Alice's lives, too. He wanted a family.

And for the first time, he was willing to fight for that family.

“You're right,” he admitted slowly. “You're right, I've been hiding here, just floating around aimlessly.” Before she could get all triumphant, he stood and growled, “But that's not what I'm doing now. Now, I'm finally seeing a life that I want, and I'll be damned if I'll let anyone take it away from me.”

That said, he walked away without giving Bastian a chance to argue. He peeked into his son's room to check on Alice, smiled when he saw the way she was sprawled, half hanging off the bed, and he quietly closed the door and headed to his own room. Hopefully Maddie wouldn't mind; he'd originally intended to crash on the couch, but he couldn't stand to be in the same room as Bastian, and couldn't quite bring himself to kick her out, either. Moving slowly, so as to avoid waking either of the bed's other two occupants, he slid in next to Beck.

She immediately rolled over and cuddled close to him. At first he thought she was just fidgeting in her sleep, but then she whispered, “Don't let anyone change you or tell you who you are. Not even me.”

“I won't.” He tried to smile, couldn't quite manage it, and kissed her, instead. “Goodnight.”

“Night.”

It wasn't quite a seamless transition. Mickey's place was too small for a family of four, and he didn't exactly love the idea of moving a bunch of heavy audio equipment down those winding stairs. Though he wanted to jump right into living together, he didn't put up much of a fight when Beck started looking for her own place.

It helped that she didn't spend a lot of time at home. Once the girls were enrolled in school, their mother started dropping them off and then going straight to Mickey's place. She helped Argyris translate for Mickey and his clients, which both men had thought was a terrible idea... until they saw her in action. The short fuse he'd become so familiar with in their first couple of days together was nowhere to be found. Around even his most difficult clients, Beck was the embodiment of charm and professional courtesy. Mickey quickly found that while Argyris was better for direct translation, he was no match for Beck when it came to diplomacy and deescalating a heated argument.

“You haven't seen 'difficult',” she teased, “until you've been a woman in a male-dominated field arguing for funding. This is nothing.”

Mickey laughed, yanking her into his arms. “Where have you been all my life?”

She flinched, closing her eyes and pressing her fingertips to her mouth for a second. It was the briefest of moments, and then she was smiling again and joking, “On my knees in the dirt, mostly,” but he refused to ignore it.

“You okay?”

With a little shrug and a nod, she admitted, “Been a little queasy and lightheaded lately, but I'm fine. It never lasts long.”

“You are so American.” She glared at him and he grinned, pleased that he knew how to get her attention. “You're not in Dystopia anymore – go to a doctor.”

“Did you not hear me? I'm fi-”

“I heard 'lately,'” he countered, poking her side and immediately regretting it when she cringed. Right; queasy. Maybe don't mess with her stomach, Mickey. “'Lately' means this is not normal. It means you're sick, so go to a doctor.”

She shook her head, winced, and dropped it onto his shoulder. “I don't need a doctor.”

“You can't even move without turning green.”

“I'm fine. I don't need a doctor.”

“Why are you being so stubborn? You're supposed to help me with stubborn people, not be the Queen of them!”

“Am I your girlfriend or your lawyer?”

“That's not what I meant and you know it. Don't change the subject.” Rubbing her back, he insisted as gently as he could, “Please just go get checked out.”

“I don't need to. I'm fine.”

“Look, even if it's minor, do you wanna suffer or find out what's wrong and get better?”

“I don't need a doctor to tell me what I already know!”

What she already knew? He frowned, more confused than ever. “Is it some kind of chronic-”

“Mickey, I'm not sick – I'm pregnant!”

He froze, gaping at her in shock. She started to pull away, but he tightened his grip on her waist before she could stand up. “You're what?”

Looking nervous and uncomfortable, she mumbled, “I was trying to find the right time to tell you; we've just been so busy with that 'make it more Greek' asshat...”

“You're really pregnant?” When she slowly and carefully nodded, Mickey grinned and hugged her as tight as he dared. “That's fantastic!” He finally let her up, only to stand with her and frame her face with both hands. Between frantic kisses all over her face, he gushed, “That's incredible! Have you told the girls yet? Oh, Alice is gonna be so excited to be a big sister! And Hector! I can't wait for Hector to meet his little brother or sister!”

“Mickey...”

He glanced around, smile dimming just a bit. “Damn, we gotta get a bigger place.”

“Mickey.”

“I wonder if Agryris' grandmother had-”

“Mickey!” Shoving his hands away, Beck got a tight grip on his hair and forced him to turn back to face her. “Do you really think we can do this?”

He blinked, taken aback by that. “Don't you?”

“Three kids, and fighting for joint custody of a fourth?” She shook her head, looking at him like he was an idiot. “The thought that we might be in over our heads crossed my mind, yeah. I was struggling with just two!”

“Well, now you have me.” His cheeky grin didn't seem to comfort her as much as he'd hoped it would. “You were struggling 'cause you were alone; now you're not.”

“A single mom with two kids really isn't all that different from two parents with four,” she pointed out, releasing his hair and crossing her arms over her chest. Seeing the hurt he tried to mask, she sighed. “Look, I'm glad you're excited, I am. And whether we're ready or not, the kid's on the way, I just... I just wish I shared your optimism. I'm not excited, Mickey; I'm scared to death.”

“Well, get excited,” he jokingly commanded, pulling her close for another hug. “We'll be fine. Besides, it's not like Aspa's ever gonna give me full custody, so it's not really two to four. Maddie's old enough that she doesn't need constant hyper-vigilance from us, so it's really just two to two-and-a-half.”

Finally, finally, Beck laughed. It was quiet and weak, but a laugh nonetheless. “Jesus, you're like sunshine in human form. Does anything ever get you down?”

He shrugged. “Sure, but I try not to let it for long. And I see a new baby as something to celebrate, not freak the hell out over.”

“See, you get to see it that way because you don't have to push it out,” she teased. “It's not so perfectly sunny from where I'm standing.”

“No one said life is perfect.” Still smiling like a fool, he kissed her. “Whatever you need, I'm here. You're not doing everything alone anymore. We got this.”

“I love you.”

It didn't seem possible, but somehow his smile got even wider. “I love you, too.”

“Speaking of Aspa, though...”

“Oh, god, what?”

With a laugh and an apologetic smile, Beck ventured, “I don't think you should come today.”

“What?”

Her smile immediately faded; apparently, he was really bad at hiding it when he was confused and offended. “Baby, you're chaos incarnate. It's one of the things I love about you, but it's not exactly conducive to a civilized conversation with a woman who probably kind of hates you.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“I just think I might have better luck getting through to her, single mom to single mom.” She looked like she was waiting for him to hit her, which only made him feel worse. “I know how hard it is, and how, whether we mean to or not, we tend to villainize our exes-”

He snorted, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, well, with the stellar guys you've dated, it makes sense. It's not really villainizing if he's already a villain.”

“Exactly how much did Madeline tell you?”

Uh-oh. She was mad. Knowing he was in trouble no matter what and refusing to drag his stepdaughter down with him, Mickey hastily changed the subject. “Do you really think I'll fuck things up that badly if I go?” Why was he even asking? Offended or not, he knew she was right; Aspa hated his guts.

Thankfully, Beck let the dig about her exes drop and her steely expression melted back into one of gentle sympathy. “I just want you to have the best chance possible of getting to be an active part of Hector's life. I want him to know you, to sleep in that bed you bought him before he outgrows it, to meet his new sisters. And I think your feelings towards Aspa, and hers toward you, are probably too raw and volatile right now for a face-to-face meeting to be a good idea.”

“Alright.” Forcing a faint smile, he nodded. “Alright, go. You've got a point.”

“I'll tell you all about it when I get back, okay?” She promised with an equally strained smile, kissing his cheek.

“Can't wait.”

When she came back a little while later, she was laughing. Mickey's hopes that it meant things had gone better than expected were dashed, though, when she managed to gasp out, “She really hates you!”

“Yeah, thanks.” He shook his head. “I knew that much.”

“I'm sorry.” Still giggling, Beck wound her arms around his waist. “She was just such a bitch. I kinda respect the hell out of her.”

“What did she say?”

“That you're a baby,” she dutifully recited, “and you're irresponsible, unreliable...”

“Why is this funny?!”

“Because, Mickey... Mickey, honey...” Framing his face like he had to her earlier, she told him, “It's nothing I didn't already know. You're flighty and you're a big kid; this isn't news. She was floored that I love you anyway, and my god, the look on her face when I went off about how that childishness is what makes you such a good dad, and you're great with the girls... I haven't been able to stop laughing since! Pretty sure she hates me now, too.”

“Great!” Failing to see the humor, Mickey jerked free of her light grasp and moved away, beginning to pace the room. “So instead of helping, you just alienated her from us both!”

“We're going to see him on Saturday.”

“What?” He spun to stare at her; she wasn't laughing anymore. “Are you serious?”

Looking rather proud of herself, she nodded. “Supervised by Aspa, of course, but yep. You get to spend time with your son, and I finally get to meet him. It doesn't matter what she thinks of either of us, as long as she can see that you give a shit; that we're safe to be around Hector, and can be trusted to think of him first. Show her how much you love him, that even childish and flaky you can be reliable, that you want to be reliable, and a supervised visit might turn into father-son weekends, without your ex underfoot.”

“I... wha... how...?”

She shrugged, smiling faintly. “Mother to mother. We came to an understanding.”

Overwhelmed by emotions he couldn't even identify, Mickey closed the distance between them and lifted her up. “I fucking love you, you know that?”

Beaming as he set her down, Beck leaned in for a kiss. “I love you, too, baby.”

“That's not cute anymore.” Despite his protests, he was grinning as he backed her toward the bedroom. “Now I just feel like you're calling me a baby. That sucks. Don't do that.”

“I'll call you what I want,” she teased, pulling him down for another kiss. “And you can't stop me!”

With a hand on her belly, he joked, “How about you call me 'daddy'?”

“No.” She laughed and shook her head. “I physically cannot do that. I'll puke.”

“Well, morning sickness is pretty common.”

“No, this is pure disgust.”

They were both laughing now as they reached the bed; he almost playfully shoved her back, but then remembered the baby and thought better of it. Instead, he flopped across it himself and beckoned for her to join him. “We're gonna be okay, you know.”

Beck winced as she settled gingerly on the edge of the bed. “It's just such bad timing. I don't...”

“Hey.” He tugged at her arm until she stretched out beside him, and wound his arms around her. “It's all gonna be okay. No matter what life throws at us, we'll deal with it together, okay? I want this baby. I know you want this baby. The rest is just details.”

“Pretty big fucking details. I was supposed to go to Mongolia next month.”

“Then go.” God, he didn't want her to, but he was determined to show her that they could be together, be a family, without completely derailing her life. When she looked at him like he'd lost it, he gave her a bland 'are you kidding' look right back. “You're not really gonna try to convince me that you weren't still going on digs when you were pregnant with Alice, are you?”

She blushed. “My team didn't know...”

“So don't tell them this time, either.”

“Mickey...” Pushing his arms away, she sat up. “You really have no idea how physically demanding my work is, do you? I almost lost Alice.”

For a second, he floundered, wondering what the hell to do or say. Then he brightened and sat up, as well. “You speak a million languages; just work as a translator until you're safe to go back out into the field.”

“...I do love it,” she conceded, making him perk up. “And maybe I can finally teach you some Greek so you can talk to your son more easily.”

Mickey chuckled. “I'm not getting out of that, am I?”

“Nope.” She grinned and settled back against his chest as he leaned against the headboard. “Not until we're both fluent.”

“Alright, I'm in.” He smiled, kissing her jaw and lacing their fingers together. “New home for us, new job for you, learning a new language...”

“New baby on the way.”

“New baby on the way,” he parroted, pressing their linked hands to her belly. “New chapter.”

“Here's to a new life.”

Mickey nodded and leaned down for a proper kiss, murmuring against her lips, “Together.”

#monday 2021 #monday movie #fanfiction #fix it fic #mickey henry #mickey/oc #i really really hate chloe #so much #omfg

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heathsbitch · 4 years

Text

Treat You Better ➳ PEAKY BLINDERS

xxiv. DECISIONS, DECISIONS

The words rang through her like a bullet through flesh. The last time she had seen her father, it hadn't gone very well. He had hit her, and Finn came swooping in and rescued her from his filthy clutches.

But, somehow, she found herself wanting to see him again. Ivy wanted him to explain why he did everything he did in full detail.

The girl followed the Shelby brothers into the kitchen where Polly, Lizzie and Esme sat. Polly was slouched in the mahogany chair, a damp towel draped over her eyes. She had a hangover from yesterday's protests. Ivy giggled to herself, remembering the drunken state of the woman.

She quickly found a spare seat opposite the woman and sat down. She needed to think about what Tommy had said in more depth. The man had begun to speak and people had begun to move around the kitchen but Ivy paid no mind. She was lost in her thoughts; a mindless daydream of a fantasy she hoped would come to pass...

A happy family.

If only...

Ivy wondered what life would have been like if her parents had stayed together and her brother hadn't been pulled from her. Would it have been everything she had dreamt of? Or would have been just the same pain she had experienced with just her and her father?

No matter how many times she asked herself these questions, she would never know the answers. But if she could spend just a small amount of time with her father, maybe it wouldn't be as bad as she remembered. Maybe they would finally be able to tell the truth to each other; the whole truth.

But for now she could only dream.

"Ivy." Tommo's deep voice pulled the girl out of her day dream. "I think Miss Solomons is a little bit hungover." Lizzie said with a wink as she left the room, Esme was quick behind her. Tom smirked, as did Polly. "Sorry, I was..." Ivy looked for an excuse but she was lost for words.

"Can you give me and Polly a minute?" Thomas asked. The girl hastily stood up from her chair and nodded, making her way towards the betting den. "And, Ivy," She stopped in her tracks and turned to look at the man. "I'd like to speak with you once I'm finished. It's about Alfie." Ivy nodded again, slower this time before exiting the kitchen.

She made her way to her office, unsure whether or not she had uncompleted work to do. "Finn!" Ivy exclaimed as she was met with the sight of his auburn hair. He stood up from the chair that was sat neatly under her desk. "Ivy." He replied with a small smile.

Discomfort filled the room. The last time the pair had spoke, Michael had interrupted them and was slightly aggressive in his approach. But nevertheless, Ivy returned the smile and gestured for Finn to sit back in his chair.

Ivy's heart pounded so hard against her chest she was worried that Finn would be able to see it. Little did she know that Finn felt the same way.

The girl walked over to the opposite side of the dark wood desk and sat down in her own seat. "How have you been, Ivy?" Finn questioned as he lent forward in his chair to rest his forearms on the table.

Despite the question being completely normal, Ivy found herself being taken aback by his words. Finn was always protective, but he never was one for words. "I'm okay?" She spoke but her words were phrased as a question.

"We haven't talked about the day that Grace died and the day that Tom ran away to Wales," Finn began to explain. Ivy tensed in her chair. That was when she had her breakdown and the day that she had entirely lost it with Thomas. "You've been different, doll. Loud noises make you jump. When people shout at each other, you cry,"

He listed off the things that had changed within Ivy. It was almost as if a switch had been flipped. She was still the same girl as before. Only, the darkness had begun to take over.

And it was swallowing her whole.

"You fucking lost it with Tom." His words came out quieter than before, his eyes were cast to the desk in front of him. "H-how did..." Ivy struggled to get her words out. How did Finn know about the argument she had with Tommo?

"I saw you. With Michael. When you came out of his office, you were crying and there was blood on your hands. You were sat hugging Michael. He was helping you, I think." He was almost hissing by the end of his explanation, rage slipping through his veins.

"He wanted me to kill my father. Tom wanted me to shoot my own fucking father, how could I not shout at him?" Ivy had misunderstood his anger. "I'm not angry about fucking Tom," He launched from his chair, his hands buried in his previously slick hair. Ivy flinched, tears threatening to slip from her eyes. She hated arguing.

Finn slowly approached Ivy as she turned in her chair to face the boy. He crouched down and took her small hands in his large ones. "I'm not angry about Tom. I know how insensitive he can be." His voice was soft and gentle, his eyebrows furrowed as he gazed up at Ivy from his position on the floor.

"Why are you mad, then?" She was quiet when she spoke, she didn't want another outburst. The boy closed his eyes and carefully thought about what he was going to say next. "Michael," The word hung in the air, suspended in silence.

Ivy's heart dropped. 'How could he know about Mickey? What does he know about Michael?' Questions flashed across the girl's mind before she could form them into real words.

"You're probably just friends, and I'm probably over-reacting, but I just want to double check. You just..." He took a deep breathe before continuing his rant. "You just seem close." Finn's bright and watery eyes flickered between their conjoined hands and Ivy's face.

The girl didn't know what to say. She could tell Finn everything and risk destroying whatever it was between them. Or, she could lie to protect Finn, to prevent him from doing something that he'd regret later. But if he ever found out, he would be fuming. Was it worth the risk?

"I see him as a brother, Finn. Nothing else," She spoke with a warm smile, despite the infidelities pouring out of her mouth. "I promise there is absolutely nothing between us."

'How could I do that? He deserves the truth!' Ivy scolded herself after she had finished with her lies. Finn let out another breath, a sweet sigh of relief. "Good," He whispered, smiling down at their hands so he wasn't making eye contact.

"It's just that, Ivy, I lo-"

But their time together was cut short. Again. This time, by no other than Tommy Shelby. "Ivy, we need that chat. Now." He said the last word to Finn, completely disregarding any respect for the remnants of the previous conversation.

"We can talk later, Finn." Ivy beamed at the teen. He nodded and left without another word. Tommo gave the teen a small smile before he left the room. The man approached Ivy, his lips pressed into a thin line. "Ivy," Tom's deep voice sliced through the silence of the office. His hand stretched out to the chair in front of Ivy, pulling it back slightly so he could sit down.

She faced Tom, her back straightened and stiff. "I need you to stay calm," Even more nerves filled the girl. What could Tom possibly say that would make Ivy freak out?

"I need you to move in with Alfie again."

"Fuck off."

Ivy slammed her hands down on her desk and stood up, fury raging through her. She turned to face the wall of her office, her back towards Thomas. She had been told that they needed Alfie but could she bring herself to live with him again? "We need your father for a job, Ivy! We need him to calm down and we need to know if we can trust him. Ivy, did you hear me?"

"Yes," Her voice was timid and low. The girl thought back to earlier that day. "Maybe if I spent some more time with him, it wouldn't be as bad as I remembered." The words flashed through her head, a thought she had had whilst Tommo was talking to Polly about the strike the day before.

Ivy knew she didn't have a choice. After already disobeying Tom's orders once, she couldn't do it again. Besides, maybe she could tame the beast she called father.

Thomas had been speaking whilst she had been thinking but she wasn't listening.

"I'll do it," Her words left her mouth at no more than a whisper. "I'll do it."

The pair had talked through their plan. Ivy would stay with her father and try to calm him down so the Shelbys could use him with the Russians. She would also spy on him and collect information about his business for Thomas.

They had discussed what her excuse would be. She couldn't just turn up on Alfie's doorstep without an explanation. He would just simply turn her away. Ivy had suggested that she would run away, again. She would tell Alfie that Tom wanted her to kill him and she refused. The girl knew that it wouldn't be difficult to act as that situation had already taken place, just without the running away.

Ivy would be lying if she said she wasn't nervous, she was terrified. She knew that the truth about her father would come out in one way or another. Ivy didn't want Tom to know, she couldn't let him know. But only time would tell...

Two days after the plan was discussed, it was put into place. Ivy was stood on her father's doorstep, rain pounded down on her small frame. She had managed to conjure up some fake tears to make it look like she had actually run away. Tom had dropped her off at the end of the street with a small, "Good luck." before he began his drive back to Birmingham.

Her small fist shaking, she knocked on the door.

The maid had opened it. She recognised Ivy instantly. "Mr Solomons," She called to her master. "There's somebody here to see you." The girl was glad that she didn't mention her name, she wanted to see the surprise on her father's face. Heavy footsteps came booming down the corridor, grunts following close behind.

And there he stood, in all of his menacing glory.

Alfie towered over the girl, as he always had. His hair was stuck up in various positions, rings scattered over his hands, his shirt crinkled and un-tucked; he looked a mess. But, this was Alfie Solomons. Messy was his 'thing'.

"Ivy." His voice came out as a deep grumble that reverberated through his broad chest. Shock was laced into it as well, he was not expecting his daughter back on his doorstep, not after what had happened the last time they saw each other. "Can I come in?" Ivy squeaked, doing her best at acting like she had just run away.

Her father took a step back from the door, allowing her space to enter her old house. The man's brow was furrowed in utter confusion; he couldn't figure out why his daughter had come back to him, especially after what he had done.

Timidly, she found her way into the living room with assistance from the small maid. "Thank you." Ivy croaked as the maid helped her sit down. "Thanks," Alfie thanked the maid. "Now fuck off," The girl flinched at his words. He was always so harsh, not matter who he was speaking to.

Her father gradually made his way to the sofa and sat down next to his beloved daughter. "What are you doing here?" His voice was almost like a growl. Like a bear preying on a small, innocent dove. But Ivy wasn't innocent.

"Tom," The girl began. "H-he wanted to me to kill you. But, but I said no and I ran." Fake tears continued to pour out of the girl's crystal eyes as she clutched onto her sleeves. "All the way from Birmingham?" Alfie was still as confused as before.

"No. We were doing a job downtown and I took my chance." Silence filled the room once again. Ivy's gaze was focused on the rug that layed tattered across the floor. She couldn't believe she was back in her house. It had felt like so long since she had been there. Alfie's cold eyes burned holes into his daughter, his glare was menacing.

"I will fucking kill that gypsy scum." He hissed. "Don't. He'll kill you first. You're the only person I can trust. Please don't go." Her words were rushed. The longer she spoke, the more likely she would expose herself.

As more tears came falling from her eyes, she realised that they were no longer fake. Ivy had been holding in all of her emotions for a long time and she hadn't, truly, let them all out. Sobs racked her body, but she didn't dare look at her father.

"Oh muffin," Alfie's voice was soft; surprisingly soothing. He wrapped his large arms around the girl and pulled her in for a hug. Ivy could not stop crying, no matter how hard she tried to stop. She wanted her father back, she wanted her family back and together, she wanted to be with the Shelbys, she wanted to be with Finn...

She wanted to feel better, to stop feeling the constant pain she had always felt.

She wanted so many things she knew she could never have. And that was the real cause of the pain. Not her father, not Tommy or any other physical creature. The realisation that she would never be able to have all of these things. She would have to chose. But that decision could wait.

Now was a time to heal broken bonds. And to spy on the man that she begged she could fix.

Alfie lent back on the sofa, Ivy still between his strong arms. She rested on his chest. Her tears had slowed down but she was far from finished. "I'm so sorry. Really, muffin, I am. For everything," His words were like a bullet raging straight through her heart. Why did the truth hurt? Wasn't that exactly what she wanted to hear?

"I just wanted you to be strong. I never wanted to hurt you. I regret everything that I have ever done to you, muffin," The girl sniffed and buried her head further into her father's chest, keen to hear what else he had to say. But was it the truth? Or just more lies from another man?

Another sob broke through the quietness of the room. But this time, it didn't come from Ivy.

"I broke my little girl."

xxv. THE WHOLE TRUTH

MASTERLIST

#finn shelby #harry kirton #michael gray #finn cole #smut #fluff #angst #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #alfie solomons #treat you better

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