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#anyways. good morning. hi ian
gallawitchxx · 2 years
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husbands 🖤
from this picrew
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reginaphalange2403 · 5 months
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Never Again
Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Despite an intense dislike for one another, you and Bucky begrudgingly get paired together for a mission. You’re forced to look past your differences when things so south.
Warnings: Canon level violence, asshole Bucky (at first), enemies to lovers vibes, other mcu characters make appearances. Word count: 6.1k
a/n: AHHHH my first fic in like 6 months! this is also the first time I've ever written for Bucky or written anything like this. It was a lot of fun and I hope I did him justice lol. Enjoy!
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The loud hissing of the Keurig was a rude awakening to your 7am start to the day. Unfortunately, Steve had decided to hold a team conference meeting at 8. Why he chose to annoy you all like this, you weren’t sure. 
“Are you fucking done yet?” You instantly recognized the deep, rough voice muttering under his breath behind you. Bucky had his arms folded and was impatiently waiting for you to finish up at the machine so he could make his own cup.
“Already have a stick up your ass today, huh Barnes?” You spit back at him before moving to let him use the Keurig.
“Well, I wouldn’t have one if you weren’t the first thing I saw when I came down the stairs.” 
Damn. That stung. “Have you ever been nice for once in your life? Or is being a dick just a permanent part of your personality?” 
At your words, Bucky looked up at you and feigned offense “Oh, I’m nice” He assured you in an almost sweet tone, before turning cold again “…to people that deserve it.”
You rolled your eyes at him, muttering a ‘whatever’, and left the kitchen to go take a seat in the conference room. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an atypical conversation for you to have with Bucky. Ever since you had joined the team almost a year ago - at Natasha Romanoff’s request - Bucky had been anything but welcoming. At first, you thought it was just friendly banter, him trying to sarcastically intimidate you, but it was clear by now that he genuinely had a deep distaste for you. 
Soon enough, everyone else started to file in for the meeting. Nat smiled as she took the seat next to you, her regular spot, and quietly started asking you about your morning. Bucky was the last one to enter the room, and by that point the only seat left was the one on your other side. 
He glared at you as he sat down. 
“It’s not my fault you’re always late to these things” You quipped under your breath.
“Don’t push it, sweetheart” Bucky frustratingly muttered, and you quickly opened your mouth to reply before Natasha interrupted,
“Don’t bother with him, Y/N. He’s always a grump in the mornings” 
‘No, he’s always a grump to me’ you thought to yourself, but kept your mouth shut. 
“Good Morning, everyone” Steve finally got started with the meeting, a cheery grin on his face that was all too happy for 8am, in your opinion.
“As you all know, for months now we’ve been trying to track down where exactly Ian Haverford and his men have been setting up camp and operating their illegal activities” Most recently, the team had been working on taking down a group of rouge scientists. They had somehow been creating and using a serum that was similar to the super soldier serum. A antidote that made them have increased strength, speed and agility. They then used their new enhancements to rob and kill storeowners, evade the police, and then subsequently sell the drugs and weapons that they had stolen. 
“We’ve finally located their compound, up in rural Virginia, we-“
“What he meant to say was I located their compound in Virginia” Tony cheekily butt in. 
Steve sighed, having to stop his own eye roll, “Fine, yes, Tony located the compound. Anyway, as I was saying…We believe that that’s where they’re making the serum. The sooner we go in, the less time they have to continue using the serum and giving it to more people. Now, I didn’t necessarily think this was a task we all needed to partake in. It really only requires two people to take down Haverford and gather intel on what chemicals they’ve been using”
Steve took a big breath before revealing who he had assigned to the mission, knowing he’d have hell to pay, “Y/N and Bucky will be heading to Virginia tomorrow morning-“
“Are you serious Rogers?!” You immediately confronted Steve’s decision as you heard Bucky next you,
“You’ve got to be kidding me” He mumbled, clearly as annoyed as you were.
Steve put his hands up defensively, “I know the two of you don’t always get along, but I was hoping this assignment would allow you to work together and actually have to interact beyond your bickering” 
You had never been on a mission with just Bucky before. Of course, the two of you had been on missions with the rest of the avengers together, but never just the two of you. 
Steve continued, “Besides, we need someone who’s a super soldier to infiltrate the compound. Bucky has the strength and speed to match that of Haverford’s people. And Y/N, you also have enhancements, it makes sense to send the both of you in together.” He concluded by basically saying his decision was final, and that you and Buck would be leaving on a quinjet first thing tomorrow.
During your years in the red room, you had been injected with various substances and drugs that over time had enhanced your agility, flexibility, reflexes and even your sight. But you didn’t see how that made you a necessary aspect to this assignment. You were sure Steve was just using that as an excuse, he really just wanted you to get along better with Bucky. 
Speaking of which, Buck stood up from his chair as you looked over at him, he glowered at you for a moment before scoffing, “Guess I’ll just have to grin and bear it” and with that he left the room. 
You stayed, waiting for everyone else to file out so that you could speak with Steve privately. Natasha gave you a sympathetic look and squeezed your shoulder, as she was the last one to head out after talking to Steve for a while herself. You were always sort of jealous of their friendship. Of course, you had Nat. Who was your closest confidant in the group. But you also wanted to be close with the guys as well. You supposed Steve was your friend, but sometimes it felt like he looked at you as more of a younger sister. 
Finally, it was just you and Steve alone in the room and you were still sitting in your same seat, Steve standing at the head of the table. He tilted his head towards you and quirked his eyebrows, waiting for you to say something. 
“Why does he hate me?” You asked quietly. You had always wanted to go to Steve for advice on how to handle Bucky, but never wished to cause a rift in their friendship or make Steve feel like he was put in the middle of something.
His eyes went soft and he sighed, “Oh Y/N” He began gently “I know it may come off that way, but Buck doesn’t hate you. He just…” Steve looked to find the right words, “has a hard time handling his emotions and how he feels about people… especially people that bring up past trauma for him” 
Steve’s little hint helped you clue in to what he was trying to imply. You knew that Bucky had a history with the red room, long before you ever did, but you never really knew the details of it or how he was involved. You were saved from Dreykov almost a year ago when Natasha returned to destroy him. You were one of Yelena’s closest friends and she had introduced you to Nat, who then saw how skilled you were and decided to invite you to join the avengers, since you really had no other home to go to. Yelena meanwhile, had wanted to enjoy her freedom a little more and chose to see the world a bit before deciding to join any sort of vigilante team. Though Natasha always held out hope that she would finally join one day when she felt ready. 
“But Nat’s from the red room too!” You defended yourself, “And Bucky treats her perfectly fine! It’s not my fault that my past is what it is. I can’t help the fact that I was raised there, why does he have to hold that against me?” You started to get emotional and Steve could tell, so he began to try and explain his friends behavior.
“Well, he’s gotten to know Natasha for a few years now, so I think they’re on better terms. Plus he kinda owes her one for how she saved both our asses during the whole…sokovia accords thing” Steve said the last part quietly while sort of shamefully looking down. Despite the fact that it was worked out now, that whole incident with him, Tony and Bucky still deeply bothered Steve to even bring up.
He continued after a moment, “He doesn’t hold it against you Y/N, it’s not your fault. He just doesn’t like the memories you bring up for him, the things you remind him of. And he doesn’t know how to properly process and work through them, so instead he just takes out that pent up anger and self hatred on you. It’s not fair to you, but it’s also not your fault.”
“Get him to see a therapist then” you muttered.
Steve scoffed, “Believe me, I’ve tried.” 
He then walked around the length of the table to where you were sitting and gave you a pleading look, “Just give him a chance. Hopefully this mission will be the thing that finally gets him to see you in a different light. I know it’s hard to believe, but he really does have a sweet, soft side under all that brooding, if you dig deep enough” And that was what Steve left you with as he walked out, leaving you alone to mull over what he had said. 
———————
For the rest of that day, you and Bucky both avoided each other. You spent most of the afternoon locked up in your room or in the gym, perfecting a few moves with Nat’s help in preparation for your assignment. You didn’t see Bucky all day, you assumed he also was doing his best to not run into you.
Now, you were seated across from him on the quinjet, an awkward silence taking up the majority of the ride to a rural part of Virginia. He barely even looked at you for the entire 2 hour flight. Mostly staring down at his hands with airpods in, or having his head tilted back and eyes closed. As you neared the end of your trip, jet about to touch down, you noticed Bucky finally didn’t have headphones in, so you decided it would be a good time to set some things straight before you literally went into battle with him.
Cautiously, you spoke up, “Look, I know we don’t necessarily see eye to eye but we really need to-“
He cut you off sharply “Once we touch down I’ll take the northeast side of the compound and you can take the south side. They apparently keep their lab in a big room on the south side, so you head that way and ransack the lab while I take down Haverford, who’s quarters are up in the north end. Got it?” Not even listening to what you had tried to say, Bucky simply started barking out a game plan at you.
“Sure, but I was saying that we-“
Bucky sighed dramatically, “Look Y/N, we just need to do our damn jobs and get this over with. Alright?”
“But Steve said-“
“I don’t care what Steve said.” He snapped, “I’m not here to make nice.”
And with that, you sat in silence again for the last few minutes of the flight. The quinjet landed in an open forrest area, roughly a 10 minute walk away from where Haverford’s compound was supposed to be. Of course, you couldn’t land right next to it without risking them hearing and giving yourselves away. So, you and Bucky began the short trek to the complex, once again in complete silence the whole way there. 
Finally, you arrived upon a large monster of a building. It took up almost the entirety of the empty field that it occupied, with no windows around it whatsoever. To anyone else, it looked like from the outside to be just an eery abandoned building. You and Buck snuck around to the backside where a hatch door was used to get into the lower level of the building. 
“When we’re done,” Bucky finally spoke for the first time in over 15 minutes “How about we meet up back here at this door, so that we can leave asap and not waste time trying to find each other in this fucking maze. Good?”
You swallowed, remembering the “plan” Bucky had laid out earlier on the jet. You really didn’t feel right about splitting up with him. The compound was massive and neither of you had ever navigated it before. Sure, Steve had shown you a basic floor plan of it and talked about where he believed they were making the serum, but that was it. You didn’t know your way around this territory, and you didn’t know what Haverford’s men were like.  And on this mission, it was just you and Buck. You didn’t have the other avengers around to look out for you, or be your eyes and ears over the comms. 
“Bucky, I don’t know if we should separate. This place is big.” You finally admitted.
“It’s nothing you can’t handle” He grumbled out, which should have sounded like a compliment but came out as more of something to shut you up and get on with it.
“But what if one of us gets injured or can’t find our way back to the door?” You asked, embarrassed to be admitting your nerves to him. Bucky could see for a moment that you were genuinely anxious about this.
“We have the comms in our ears,” He began in a slightly softer tone than he had ever spoken to you before, “If you need help, just talk to me. I’ll be in your ear the whole time” 
You nodded, still a little worried but trying not to show it.
“Splitting up is the fastest way to do this. And the faster we get this done, the less time we have to spend together.” Ah, there was the Bucky you knew. Back to making jabs at you. That was the last you spoke before he broke the door open and you were in.
—————————
As discreetly as possible, you made your way through the compound, quietly trying to get to the south wing without being heard or seen. Steve said that they most likely were keeping their lab in the largest room in the building, which supposedly should be through the last door on the south side. As long as you could find it, get the records and evidence that you needed, and get back to the exit in time to meet Bucky, you’d be fine. 
You could hear Bucky through the comms, sounds of grunting and punching obviously coming from him fighting Ian Haverford’s men that he had come into contact with. 
“Looking for something princess?” You immediately stopped in your tracks at the sound of a deep sinister voice snarling at you. Whipping around, you saw one of Ian’s goonies standing just a few feet from you. 
Instantly he charged at you, but it was nothing you hadn’t ever dealt with. Before he could grab you, you took hold of his arm and twisted it behind his back, affectively turning his entire body away from you. Then, using the Widow’s Bite armor that were around your wrists, you tased him in the neck, causing him to fall completely unconscious.
It was then that you realized you had made it to the end of the hallway, and thus the last door which was supposed to be their lab. Prepared for men to potentially be in there, you unholstered one of your firearms, and promptly kicked down the door.
To your shock, the room had no occupants. You quickly reached over to find a light switch, and what you saw next was infuriating. It indeed was Ian Haverford’s lab. Full of tables and stations that held different mixed drugs and chemicals that he was using to create his own super soldier serum, one that he then used on himself and his accomplices. You also saw a station that was entirely made up of a large desktop connected to multiple computers. 
You started to make your way towards the computers so that you could plug in your hard-drive and collect the data that would supply the team with how Haverford had been making the serums. But before you could get there, a white, powdery substance started to sprits down from what looked like emergency sprinklers that were on the ceiling. The substance reeked like chemicals, similar to that of bleach but not as strong. You began to cough a little, trying to wipe the shit out of your face and eyes. You had no idea what the fuck it was or what it might possibly do to you. 
“Bucky” you half coughed half called his name into the comms, “Bucky something happened”
“What?” He grunted out, clearly still in the middle of fighting someone.
“I just got sprayed with some kind of white powder stuff. I don’t know what it was. It must have been part of some kind of booby-trap that they had on the lab, since I kicked their door in, it went off.”
“Are you okay?” Bucky immediately asked, seeming genuinely worried. 
“Yeah I mean, nothings happened yet, I’m still fine. But-“
“I’m a little busy Y/N, if you’re fine for now, just get the data from the lab and head out fast. I don’t have time to keep talking” he quickly rattled off to you, and you heard a loud scream coming from a guy that Bucky obviously just injured. 
You swallowed, still very nervous about whatever the hell just happened to you, but you didn’t want to distract Bucky any further and potentially get him hurt, “Alright. On it.” 
Plugging the hard-drive into the main desktop, you waited patiently as thousands of files started to download from Haverford’s database. As you stood there and waited, an annoying, high pitched ringing began to go off in your ears. At the same time, your vision slowly started to blur slightly, as if you were wearing the wrong prescription glasses. A lump formed in your throat and your heart practically dropped into your stomach, you hated to admit it, but this was deeply scaring you. You’d never been poisoned before. 
You rubbed your eyes, hoping maybe it would help, but nothing happened, the blurriness just got worse. On top of that, your head started to pound, most likely due to the loud obnoxious ringing. It was the powder, you knew it had to be. What else would just suddenly start causing all this? 
“Y/N? You still good?” You heard Bucky ask through the comms, clearly still preoccupied with something else but wanting to check on you. 
You debated telling him about your symptoms. You were teammates, he should know. But on the other hand, It was just a few mostly mild symptoms, and the files were almost finished downloading anyway. You’d grab the hard-drive, run out of the compound and meet him in just a few minutes. You could make it until then. Plus, you didn’t wish to further annoy or distract him from fighting. 
“Yeah. Still good!” You tried to sound as enthusiastic and convincing as possible. It must have worked, because he didn’t question you further. 
Standing over the counter, still waiting for the files to be done, you leaned over the table a bit and made the idiotic decision to close your eyes for just a second, trying to relieve the headache. 
A moment later, you felt a sharp, intense fiery pain in your abdomen as someone reached from behind you choking your neck and thrusting a knife into your stomach. You were paralyzed for just a second with fear, not even able to cry out. The ringing in your ears was so bad, you must not have heard anyone come in. 
Trying to ignore the pain, you instinctively kicked your right leg back hard, hitting the man in the groin and causing him to fall to the ground. However, on his way down, he didn’t miss the chance to slash you in the calve with the knife he had been holding. The stab was so quick you could only gasp in pain. A gasp Bucky must not have heard as he was fighting his own battles. 
Turning around, you fumbled for your firearm for a moment before finally getting it out and being able to pull the trigger, sending a bullet right through his chest. Stumbling backwards a bit, you started to feel lightheaded and you were reminded of the red hot pain in your stomach. You placed a hand over the side the feeling was coming from, and immediately felt a sticky hot liquid coat your fingers. 
You didn’t have time however to investigate the stab wound, because as you glanced up, you could see through your blurry vision that 3 more men were walking in through the kicked down door. 
Lazily raising your gun again, gripping the table to keep from toppling over, you aimed as best you could, with ringing ears, blurred vision and now two stab wounds. Thankfully, your training in the red room had taught you how to aim with even a blindfold on, and with a few quick shots, the men were taken down, now lying limply on the ground in front of you. 
Bucky heard the gunshots through the comm, but since you never called his name or made a noise that would indicate you needed help, he assumed you had it under control. 
You let the gun fall from your hand, now that you were alone and for now, out of danger, you were finally able to feel the extent of your injuries as the adrenaline wore off. Ever so slowly, you peered down at your stomach and saw that the hand you’d been holding there was almost entirely now coated in blood. Without meaning to, you fell to your knees, which then painfully reminded you of the other deep wound in your calve. However, you were so tired, and the loss of blood was making it hard to do anything other than focus on breathing.  
You knew you needed to alert Bucky. You couldn’t just lie here and wait, you didn’t have that kind of time. 
“Bu-Buck” you whimpered, trying to be loud enough that the comm would pick it up. But even just trying to talk was proving to be exhausting. You knew you were losing what was probably a lot of blood. Wet hot tears started to roll down your face, you were dangerously close to just giving in to the blood loss induced exhaustion and closing your eyes.
——————
Bucky, meanwhile, had finished taking down the men on the other half of the facility and was waiting for you outside at the spot you’d both agreed you would meet. He spoke over the comms, “I took down Haverford and his men. I’m out here now. Hurry up.” Short and to the point. How he always was with you. 
Immediately, more tears welled in your eyes at hearing his voice. You were desperate, in pain, and exhausted. Despite having a deep distaste for Bucky, you knew you needed him. You needed him to come and find you. You didn’t have enough strength to speak, but luckily the sound of his voice finally brought your own voice back and you mustered up a deep, pathetic and painful whine from the back of your throat…and it was enough to be caught over your ear piece. 
He stood there for a few minutes, getting antsy. Especially since he didn’t hear fighting noises over comms, he assumed you were just taking your sweet time making it back to him.
After a bit of waiting he sighed, grumbling “C’mon Y/N, what the fuck could you possibly-“
His complaining ceased as soon as he heard your one singular cry through the comm. Bucky’s eyes went wide, heart dropping into his stomach. He’d never heard a sound like that come out of you before. 
“Y/N?” He called your name in an almost scared tone, “Are you okay?”
No response.
Bucky swore under his breath, “I’m coming, just hang on” he made that promise to you like it was an oath, and raced back inside the building. 
Sprinting to the side of the compound that you were tasked with handling, Bucky searched frantically through the hallways, popping his head into every room trying to find you….until he did.
You laid there, blood seeping across your shirt and a pool of it surrounding your one injured leg. The men that you had disarmed and killed were sprawled out around you. 
After his initial shock wore off, Bucky ran to you, kicking one of the dead arms dealers out of the way to get to you. He dropped to his knees, eyes scanning your wounds.
“Oh, Y/N” He whispered with guilt and sorrow dripping from his tone. A million emotions flashed across his face. Including anger at the men who had attacked you, but mostly at himself for allowing this to happen. 
You looked up at him, meeting his eyes, and the tears finally flowed freely now. Aside from the pain, you were relieved. Despite you’re not getting along, in this moment you wanted nothing more than for Bucky to hold you, and tell you everything was going to be just fine.
“Okay” he whispered in a stunned tone, trying to calm both you and himself down. His hands hovered over your body as he took in your wounds and decided what he needed to do. 
 “Okay, alright.” That time, it came out more sure, “It’s alright, doll. Just keep breathing for me.”  He tried to comfort you as he whipped out his phone and let Tony and the team know they needed medical there immediately.
Bucky then swallowed, giving you a remorseful look for what he was about to do. 
“Okay sweetheart,” he began tenderly, as he took off the black jacket he had on, and then promptly ripped the sleeve of it off with his metal arm. 
“I’m gonna have to tie this around your leg to stop the bleeding. It might hurt a bit, but I gotta do it” He gently explained what he needed to do, waiting to see a sign in your eyes that at least you understood. You gave him a very weak nod, and that was all he needed to then wrap the sleeve tightly around your upper calf. 
He was right, it did hurt. But it wasn’t anything you hadn’t expected or weren’t prepared for. However, you believe Bucky only told you about having to wrap your leg, in order to half distract you from what he did next. 
A blinding, nauseating pain quickly overcame you as he took the rest of the jacket he had, and with his metal arm and half his body weight, pressed it over your abdominal wound.
You immediately cried out and instinctively reached for Bucky’s arm, trying to push him away. 
“Shhh, I know, I know baby” Bucky, who almost sounded pain-stricken himself with guilt, began to hush you, “I know it hurts, but I have to, I have to” He grabbed your hand that had tried to push him away, and let you squeeze the life out of his own as he continued applying pressure. His thumb softly grazed your knuckles, trying to soothe you. 
While continuing to comfort you, Bucky began to look around as if he expected someone else to also come to your aid. It was then that he realized he’d need to get you out of the building in order to get you onto the quinjet. There was no way the medical team would be able to find their way around in here to get to you in time. And he could see that you’d already lost a lot of blood, and even with the tourniquet and pressure he applied, you were still losing some. 
He took a breath, staring into your eyes with a serious yet remorseful look on his face, “Ok doll, I’m gonna have to pick you up and carry you out, but we can’t let up pressure on your wound” he explained, “So, I’m gonna need your help.”
Bucky then took the hand of yours that he was holding and gently guided it over to your abdomen. Lifting the jacket, he placed your hand over your own wound, you whimpered a little at the contact. Bucky swallowed, “I know doll, but I need you to put pressure on it like I was, okay? Can you do that for me?” He looked at you pleadingly, praying that you understood what he was saying.
Having to bite your own lip to keep from crying out again, you started to press down on your stomach with the little strength you still had. Bucky could tell you were trying by your obvious change in facial expression, “That’s it. Just like that, that’s my girl” he praised, quickly swiping one of your tears away. It wasn’t a lot of pressure, but it would do. 
Ever so gently, trying to avoid hurting your injured leg, Bucky gracefully slipped his arms underneath you and scooped you up, holding you close to his chest. You moaned a little at the shift in movement, “Shhh, I got you doll. I got you” he whispered into your hair as you shoved your face in the crook of his neck. 
He quickly made his way back out of the compound with you in his arms, thanking god when he saw the medevac quinjet was already out there waiting for you guys. Bucky tenderly laid you down on the stretcher, taking hold of your hand again as soon as he was able. 
“She was poisoned with something and then stabbed in her lower left calve and left quadrant of her abdomen” He immediately started rambling off what had happened to the medical team and Dr. Cho. 
“Poisoned with what?” Someone asked, he didn’t see who it was cause he wasn’t taking his eyes off of you. 
“I- I don’t know.” Bucky admitted, “I think she said it was white and powdery, I can’t remember.” Internally, he was kicking himself so hard for not having immediately ran to you when you told him about the poison. He shouldn’t have just written you off and told you to deal with it. He shouldn’t have done a lot of things. 
Bucky sat on the little bench in the quinjet right next you, still holding your hand, while the team got to work on your injuries. Technically, he should have been sitting at the front of the jet, out of their way, but no one was going to tell an upset Bucky Barnes what to do. 
As they began working your leg, removing the tourniquet and getting a shot of lidocaine ready to numb the area, you saw them preparing the syringe out of the corner of your eye. You begin to hyperventilate, letting out a small whimper of fear. You hated all things medical, which stemmed from a deep rooted fear that dated back to your red room days. After years of being practically experimented on and shot up with god knows what, you didn’t particularly love the sight of needles. Even if you knew you were in a safe environment. 
Bucky, who was still diligently sitting right beside you, immediately recognized your anxious reaction. He too knew that fear all too well. While he didn’t like to admit it, his time as the winter solider and being left at the hands of hydra often caused him to have visceral reactions to medical paraphernalia. 
“Hey, hey” he softly called to you as he gently held your chin and brought your face to meet his, “It’s alright doll, you don’t have to look down there. Just look at me. Right at me.” He held your eyes, squeezing your hand a little tighter to let you know he was there. “That’s it. Just keep looking at me, Y/N. I’m right here” And that’s how you eventually went unconscious, staring into Bucky’s eyes as he quietly shushed you and ran his hand through your hair.
——————
The harsh lights of the medical wing practically blinded you as you tried to let your eyes slowly adjust to your surroundings. 
“Hey hon” you heard a soft voice coming from your right side, whom you instantly recognized as Natasha. 
“Well there she is” another voice, coming from your left who you thought was Steve, spoke up, sounding relieved at the fact you were awake. Your suspicions were proven correct when Steve leaned over slightly into your line of view. 
“Welcome back, Y/N” he smiled, clearly exhausted but delighted by your opened eyes. 
Your voice came out raspy and weak as you spoke for the first time, “H-how long have I been out?”
Natasha grabbed a cup from off your bedside table and offered you some water as Steve answered you,
“About three days. They had to get the bleeding under control and repair a portion of your stomach that was perforated. They also gave you some antibiotics to combat whatever the hell it was you were poisoned with,” he explained, “they seem to be working though. Doc says as soon as you’re strong enough, you can finish recuperating in your own room” He ended his spiel with a smile, but there was still one question he hadn’t answered that you were desperate for.
“W-Where’s Bucky?” You wondered why he wasn’t here, as you didn’t see him next to Steve or Nat. 
“He’s right here, Y/N” Steve motioned to the back of the room where you couldn’t see, but Bucky was standing in the corner, eyes red and sunken in like he’d been crying. He immediately picked his head up when he heard you mention him. 
“He hasn’t left this room in three days” Steve whispered to you in a hushed tone, hoping Bucky couldn’t hear him.
Nat cleared her throat, “We’re just gonna go get some coffee” she looked at Steve and jerked her head towards the door, beckoning him to follow her. They both left, leaving you and Bucky to yourselves. 
Slowly, Buck made his way over to your bed, taking the seat that Steve was just in. 
He was almost fearful of what to say, surprised that you had even asked for him in the first place. He blamed himself entirely for what happened, and was positive that when you woke up, you’d want nothing to do with him. And he wouldn’t blame you.
“Hey doll” he croaked out, voice sounding strained, “How’re you feeling?”
You swallowed, “My stomach hurts, and I have a headache” you admitted, still in a bit of pain from your wound healing. 
Bucky nodded, “Do you want me to get the doctor? They might be able to give you more pain meds.” He asked, wanting to make sure you were as comfortable as possible. You didn’t know, but for the past three days Bucky had remained diligently at your bedside, alerting medical staff of any slight change in vital signs or if he thought you were cold and needed more blankets. He’d only left a few brief times when Steve had to force him to go eat or use the bathroom. 
You shook your head, “no, no I’m okay. Promise” You offered him a slight smile. 
Bucky stared down at his hands for a moment before he spoke up again, “Y/N, I am so so so sorry. This never would’ve happened if I had just listened to you and not had us split up.” He spoke with such guilt and shame you almost felt bad for him, “I was so focused on my own agenda and being a dick to you, that I completely ignored when you needed help. I can’t even-“
“Buck,” you interrupted him, reaching over and grabbing his hand with the little strength you had, “this isn’t your fault. It’s the fault of the men who stabbed me. That’s it. No one else’s” As much as you knew he fucked up with the way he treated you, you certainly didn’t think he should have to take responsibility for you getting hurt. 
“But if I had come as soon as you said you were poisoned, if I had just listened to you instead of choosing to be an asshole, you probably wouldn’t be in this hospital bed” he insisted, eyes getting watery. 
“Well, you were an asshole, I’ll give you that.” You smirked at him, trying to get him to relax, “but you also saved my life.” Bucky looked up at you, “You tied the tourniquet which kept me from losing more blood, and then made sure I didn’t have a panic attack on the quinjet. You might have fucked up a little Bucky, but you certainly made up for it” you gave his hand a little squeeze. 
For the first time since you went under surgery, Bucky smiled, “All the same, I’m never separating from you during missions ever again.” 
You playfully rolled your eyes, “that sounds a little suffocating, don’t you think?”
He shook his head, “Nope. Not to me. Nothings ever happening to you while you’re under my watch again”
“Well if that’s the case,” you scooted over a little in the bed, “will you keep me warm before I freeze to death in here?” You were genuinely very cold and were hoping for someone to bring you another blanket, but you supposed having Bucky there would do.
He chuckled softly, “you got it.” Lowering the hospital bed rail, Bucky climbed in and laid down next you, pulling you up close to him with his arm around your shoulders. 
He placed a brief kiss along your hairline, “get some rest, doll. I’ll be right here.” 
————-
Taglist: @patzammit @dpaccione @fdl305 @gh0stgurl
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eldestdauqhter · 1 month
Text
good morning i am thinking of emma morley and her stubbornness in love. her immovable devotion to who she is and to do what she thinks she must for herself; how she refuses to lift a finger for anything that lies outside of what she feels she deserves in that point of time. this being dexter, separation from ian, or to not have a workplace lover twice her age. eventually she finds success, and in turn that makes her deem herself worthy of the merit of france and jean pierre.
but here’s the kicker, dexter is just as stubborn as her. or rather he’s persistent than ever before. his tragedies have turned him into an incurable open sore and his love weeps. and emma refuses. or at the very least she tries. but she knew the french word for tonsilitis, and jean pierre is too perfect anyway, and she’s been waiting on dexter to look at her all their lives. she thinks maybe this is their chance. how we’re all fools in love
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threadsun · 6 months
Note
I got something wholesome!
How’d the boys react if they were carrying y/n to bed and as soon as they tuck them in. They get pulled down and be used as a giant teddy bear?
Is thrilled about it:
Jack - Sure, he'd rather have had a little time to tidy the apartment and whatnot before snuggling up in bed with you, but he's just so happy that his Sunshine can't let go of him, even in your sleep!
Bo - He's startled just for a moment at being dragged down into bed with you. But the moment he realises what's happening, his tail is wagging and he's happily curling up with you to sleep
Rory - Honestly, he was planning on flopping into bed with you to cuddle and sleep anyway. He's happy to know you have the same plan, even if it's subconscious. You're on the same wavelength!
Is flustered by it:
Ian - He's worried that if you find him in your bed in the morning you'll be upset with him. But... clearly you want him there to cuddle... and you're so soft and warm... He's overthinking it all while you hold him
Joseph - He does his best to tuck you in and squirm out of any clothing that might be uncomfortable for you to cuddle with. And then he lays stock still and tries to be normal as you hold him
Nick - Look, he's not really used to softness and romance like this. Most people don't want to do that sort of thing with him. It sucks, but he's used to it. So when you clearly want to cuddle? He's in heaven
Pretends to be annoyed but secretly loves it:
Jean - As a self-centred asshole that loves to have power over people, he's thrilled that you're clinging onto him. Good thing you're not awake to see the way his eyes soften and he relaxes into you
Barry - It's genuinely an annoyance to him. He could be getting some work done, but now he has to lay in bed with you. Don't think too hard about the fact that he could wake you and is choosing not to
Shaun - He only pretends to be annoyed for the bit. Moonpie's watching and he thinks it's funny to roll his eyes and give an exaggerated sigh for her benefit as he cuddles with you
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lupeloto · 1 month
Text
galladrabbles "valentine's cards"
yay! i'm back! it has been a whileee since i wrote a drabble so proceed with caution! anyways, thank you to @look-i-love-u for this week's @galladrabbles prompt!!
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“What do you want, Gallagher,” Mickey groans, pulling the covers closer as Ian soothes him awake.
“Good morning,” Ian whispers, “Happy Valentine's day.” 
“Valentine's Day? We turn into a couple of fairies?”
“Always have been,” Ian smiles, tracing his finger along Mickey’s bare chest.
“You’ll get your gift tonight after dinner,” Ian whispers, nibbling on his ear.
Mickey pauses, “Sizzler?”
“Shut up,” Ian pretends to be offended by the jab at his predictability as he reaches behind, revealing red construction paper with a sloppily written “Happy V-Day, Mick.”
Mickey pauses, his eyes soften, “You’re an idiot,” he yanks him close, pressing their lips together.
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dilfl0v3rss · 8 months
Text
late
michael didn’t like when you came home late. when he first met you snuck into your house and refused to leave you were always home by 9:30 so that’s what he was used to. each time you came home any later than that it was usually with some type of food so he didn’t get that upset since he liked to eat, a lot. but tonight? tonight you pushed it.
it was nearly twelve in the morning by the time you got back, your purse falling off your shoulder as you tiredly kicked your shoes off at the door. before you could take a step deeper into the house the sight of a large figure on your couch startled you. “jesus michael. the fuck you sitting in here wit the light off for?” hand on your heart, you took a sigh of relief at the sight of your “roommate” on the couch. you walked over to the lamp, turning it on to brighten up the room before walking in front of the masked man.
he was wearing a beater and some plaid pajama pants. clothes you ended up buying him because you were sick of the raggedy coveralls he would wear around the house. michael looked up at you before slowly lifting a thick finger to point at the clock by your tv. you followed his hand looking at the bright red 11:56 showing before letting out a long sigh. “boss asked me t’stay a little later and since youn pay no bills i figured i could use the extra money” you said, moving towards the stairs to go up to your room. before you could get far, a strong hand around your wrist stopped your movements.
now michael was standing, eyes piercing down into yours as he looked as if he was expecting something. you sucked your teeth at this, yanking your wrist from his hold before turning around and facing him. “boy ian get no food did you not just hear me say i got off late? eat what’s in the fridge and leave me the fuck alo-” a tight hand around your neck completely shut off your words, your airways being closed as you watched his blue eyes squint at you through the mask, daring you to say another word, not like you could anyways.
before you knew it you were turned back around, face mushed into the living room wall as michael made quick work of ripping your work bottoms from your body. “i n-need thoseee” you whined. he moved one of his hands to the back of your neck, occasionally squeezing to let you know he could break you if he wanted to. arousal quickly flowed down to your pussy as you reached back at his hard pecs through his shirt. he quickly slapped your hand away before freeing himself from his pajama pants. his hard member being freed from its restraints immediately since he refused to wear the boxers you bought him. michael lined himself up with your entrance, collecting your wetness on his tip before slowly sinking into you.
you hissed at the stretch, his hand giving your neck two squeezes to let you know what he was trying to say, “you can take it”, and you did. your hands quickly flew to the wall, scratching at the paint as you took stroke after deep stroke from the huge man behind you. your previous attitude being fucked out of you as you moaned at the feeling of his thick dick caressing your walls. “m-mikey….feel so good” michael slowly blinked at the name, fucking you harder to let you know he liked it as he felt your walls tighten around him.
he left a hard slap on your ass, his heavy hand squeezing the fatty flesh as he watching it bounce after every hard stroke he delivered. “shit m’gonna cum” you moaned, his dick hitting your favorite spots as your legs began to grow weaker and weaker by the minute. michael didn’t want that though, what he wanted was for you to apologize for not only being late, but for how you thought it was okay for you to talk to him like you had no sense, like he wasn’t the type of man to have you scratching the paint off your walls while he fucked you within an inch of your life.
he quickly pulled out of you, turning you around before abruptly lifting you up on the wall. your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, holding onto him tightly as he slammed himself back into you. the scream you let out was heavenly to him, your glossy lips giving him no other choice but to slowly lift his mask up to free his pink ones. he lowered his face towards yours, enjoying the slight bounce your body made on the wall as he repeatedly slammed into you. he ghosted his lips on yours, making you whine in want as you chased him with your pretty face. you wanted it bad, but michael loved to tease you.
he slowly moved his lips away from yours, moving right to your forehead where he left a light kiss before moving back to see your reaction. a frown was on your face as you whimpered into the air, “please” you said, earning you something you never thought you’d ever see. the corner of michael’s lips curved, a smirk planting on his bottom features as he began to deepen his thrusts. your lips parted as moans began to fly from you, and that’s when he felt it was the perfect moment to connect his mouth with yours. his lips crashed into you, sloppily engulfing your mouth in his as his tongue penetrated your wet lips.
in an instant you were cumming, your hot, wet release spilling out of you as your legs shook in his big hands. michael wasn’t far behind, moving from the wall to bounce you up and down his dick until he came to his end as well. his cum rushed into you, mixing with yours as his body stilled. you didn’t have time to register what was happening as michael slowly walked you inside your kitchen, laying you on the island before making his way between your thighs to clean his mess. he was sloppy and loud, sucking and licking your sensitive clit until you were screaming and cumming once more. “n-no more michael m’sorry….so sorry kay?” you whined, watching him get up from between your thick brown thighs.
michael quickly lifted you, holding your body against his with one hand before making his way to the fridge. he pulled out a carton of eggs and some bacon before throwing them on the island, not forgetting to put them in your face to show you what he wanted to eat. he set you down in front of the items, almost chuckling at the sight of you quickly grabbing the table to keep from falling on your weakened legs. before you could even speak a hard slap was brought to your ass, making you jump before turning towards michael walking out of the kitchen. his broad back showing through his tank top as he fixed himself in his pants and walked away, leaving you to get started on his meal.
i couldn’t resist y’all😩
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p4rallel-universe · 1 year
Text
brokeback
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(Lip Gallagher x male reader)
summary: when Ian leaves the club for good, he brings home a friend from work to crash at the Gallagher house for a bit. Lip is drawn to him a bit more than he'd like to admit, and he isn't sure what it means.
"who's this?" Lip questions as he enters the gallagher house to find Ian on the couch and next to him, another guy of a seemingly similar age. a few bags are on the floor between them. the guy looks sheepish as Ian speaks up.
"this is Y/N, we worked together at the club. left that place for good and he decided to join me. he's gonna stay here for a bit, i'll take care of him though. don't worry about it." Ian explains and Lip nods, lighting up a cig as he walks to the kitchen. "good to meet you," he mumbles as he walks off, and you sigh in relief.
you felt awful, really, intruding on your friends house like this, but when Ian announced he was sick of being thrown around like a piece of meat at the club and was going to leave for good, you figured you'd follow. tips weren't nearly as good as they used to be, so they stopped making up for the whole starving-yourself-just-to-be-groped-by-old-guys thing. you didn't have a plan for leaving. no family and no friends who weren't in similar situations, so Ian suggested you crash at his family's place till you figure it out. Ian could be crazy unhinged, but he was a damn good friend.
Ian invites you upstairs and you pick up your stuff, it isn't much, but it proves to be quite heavy. you see Ian's brother - you're sure his name is Phil or something - in the kitchen. he's in an off white wife-beater drinking orange juice from the carton and you notice his arms are pretty nice. then you realise lusting after your friends brother who you're staying with for the forseeable probably isn't smart.
you decide to get an early night, Ian helps you settle in and says goodnight. you can't thank him enough for it all, really. he leaves to head downstairs as you try get some sleep.
"so, new friend, huh?" Lip asks Ian as they share a cig on the back porch,
"yeah, he used to be a dancer at the club, same as me," Ian explains as he takes a puff,
"so we got another gay under the gallagher roof then?" Lip jokes with a bit too much intensity and he cringes, because he doesn't mean it that way, "i feel like a dick, you know, not saying hi or anything."
"nah don't worry about it, he's just glad you didn't throw him out the second you saw him." this makes Lip smile and he doesn't know why,
"cool." he says, tossing the burnt-out cig and heading inside. and when he walks past his old room where Y/N is asleep he pretends he doesn't want to crack open the door and check on him. and when he tries to sleep he hopes the fact he can't stop thinking about another guy doesn't mean anything.
the next morning Y/N comes downstairs ready to make a better impression, Lip is at the breakfast table, just about the leave when he sees you.
"hey," Lip nods to you and Y/N greets him back, "you want some of this? i gotta leave soon anyway."
when Lip passes Y/N the plate their hands brush and Lip's lingers for a bit longer than it maybe should've. when Y/N looks right in his eyes he feels too strange not to leave right there. so he does, and Y/N is left at the table, flustered and very confused. and maybe a bit too hopeful.
Ian is outside on the porch drinking a beer when Y/N finds him and sits with him. Ian offers the bottle and Y/N takes it, taking a sip and grimacing.
"tastes like the club." you joke and Ian chuckles taking another swig, "so, your brother- Phil?"
"Lip." he corrects,
"yeah, Lip, what's his deal anyway?" you ask, trying not to sound too curious, and the look Ian gives you makes you think you didn't do a very good job.
"what d'you mean?" he looks at you, puzzled,
"i dunno, he seems...edgy? like nervous, he practically threw himself out the door when i came down for breakfast." you joke and take another sip of the cold drink you're sharing,
"huh, doesn't sound like Lip...maybe he's into you" Ian gives you a look and you both burst into a fit of laughter. Ian is laughing because the idea of his own brother liking another guy AND getting flustered around him is a joke in his mind. Y/N is laughing because he's not sure what else to do when he can't help but feel drawn to his new temporary roommates very attractive, very enigmatic, very straight brother.
on the other side of the city, Lip throws a book across an empty room because he can't get you out of his head. when he picks the textbook up off the ground, he isn't sure if he recognises the hands infront of him.
that night, Lip gets home late. it's dark outside and in the Gallagher house. dark and strangely, quiet. Ian's already upstairs in bed, having an early night. Lip sniffles from the cold and takes his jacket off, throwing it over the couch, when he flicks on the room light, he sees Y/N sat at the kitchen island.
Lip nods to him because he's not sure what else to do, "couldn't sleep", Y/N says and offers the cigarette in his hands over to Lip, who walks over and tentatively takes it, bringing it to his lips. he's still close enough now that when he exhales, the smoke blows into Y/N's face. Lip's eyes shine bright in the still-dim light.
Lip flicks the cig away, not caring where it lands and Y/N's brow furrows until Lip grabs his face and slams his lips onto his. it's rough and messy because Lip is scared and Y/N is surprised. it would hurt a lot more if they both hadn't secretly craved it for days. when Lip pulls away his blue eyes look apologetic and just as he plans to brush the whole thing off, apologise, it was his bad, and take off upstairs or outside or anywhere else, Y/N grabs his face again and pulls him into a much more gentle kiss.
it's still a bit aggressive, but deliciously so. Lip's hands aren't sure where to go until they find themselves on Y/N's back. and he feels steady, and strong. and okay. this is okay. when Y/N's hands tenderly tangle themselves in his hair they both smile into the kiss.
when they finally part, their eyes both shine in the dim light with the kind of happiness you can only get from a night like this. with dim light, and a guy you can't stop thinking about. and everything smells and tastes of cigarette smoke.
and when they both go to sleep that night, they can finally close their eyes.
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swiftfootedachilles · 1 month
Note
Asking again because I'm feeling a bit under the weather so here it is: How do you think Gallavich act whenever Mickey is sick?
Also, sending virtual hug with consent because I just read your recent post. Hope you feel better soon 🫂
hiii finally getting to this ask i hope youre feeling better now!!!
mickey would try to hide being sick and say its not a big deal. of course he ignores it and the sickness keeps festering until hes obviously very ill. ian rolls his eyes because this happens every damn time mickey gets sick. and mickey doesnt need to be sneezing all over their customers! so he has to stay home! mickey reluctantly takes cold medicine (he hates the taste soooo much and he has a couple negative memories attached to the medicine) and ian kisses the top of his head once he shows he swallowed everything even tho he didnt want to :(
ian and iggy (mickey swears hes just a temp he doesnt trust him to handle so much money without stealing a least some of it) are out doing their lil job while mickey stays at home napping, watching instagram reels of car crashes, sending ian random emojis to annoy him, and making ramen noodles using the keurig (he doesnt wanna wait for water to boil like a normal person). chicken ramen noodles. bc theyre the classic flavor and best for when youre feeling sick
ian comes home and does some cleaning while mickey takes his 7th nap for the day, then he wakes mick up to take more medicine. mickey doesnt wannaaaaaa it tastes bad and drinking water right after swallowing still doesnt get rid of the icky mouthfeel :( but he does it anyway and then sits in the living room talk-yelling to ian while he cooks dinner (more ramen but he adds some leftover chicken and frozen vegetables to it for substance.) mickey uses up all the hot water but ian doesnt even complain because the steam is good for opening up the sinuses
they lay in bed together, fingers twirling in damp hair, and mumble to each other about liam staying over next weekend. ian cant help himself and has to give his husband a goodnight kiss or two (or three or four or...) naturally, he wakes up the next morning with a sore throat
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myocsfanfictions · 24 days
Text
South Side Story
Shameless Fanfiction
Desna Hills has come living in the Southside of Chicago four years before. Taken in by Kev and V, Desna is close friends with the Gallaghers. Let's see how this Southside story unfolds.
MASTERLIST
《 Previous - Next 》
Chapter 21
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V's bachelorette party went very well. Desna went with her and Fiona to a night club. They had danced, drank and laughed.
Desna loved when V and Fiona brought her with them. She felt older. An adoult. And for some reason she even felt prettier and more confident.
They walked back home, but since the day after V and Kev would have gotten married, Desna and V would have slept to the Gallaghers, to not let Kev see the bride.
When they got inside the house, no one was at home. Carl was with Lip at the Alibi, for Kev's bachelor party. For what Desna remembered, Ian was at Kesh's house, for their date. And Debbie and Liam were at Sheila's, so that they wouldn't spend the night alone.
"V," Fiona said to her friend, "You sleep with me? Desna can sleep in Debbie's room," V agreed as she walked up the stairs, "That's fine by me. Des?"
"Sure," she answered following the other two upstairs. It didn't take long for Desna to fall asleep. By the time she had taken her dress off and her face hitting the pillow, she fell in a deep sleep. She never woke up. And her sleep had been dreamless, but peaceful anyway.
When she woke up, the next morning, Desna could hear some faint voices from downstairs, but she could not understand what they were saying. She got up, looking around. She needed something to cover herself. She had forgotten her pijamas.
When she opened the door, to look in the corridor, she noticed Lip getting out of his room. She smiled seeing him. He clearly got an hungover. But even in his conditions, ge had noticed her on the door.
"I've really drank too much," he said with a smirk, eyeing her from head to toe. Clearly liking see her wearing only her bra and panties.
Desna giggled as she walked towards him, with crossed arms. "I defenately can say that."
Lip's eyebrows rose, "That bad?"
Desna touched his forehead, "You tell me, Pil," he chuckled. Someone had wrote his name backwards on his forehead. He didn't even washed it away the night before. He must have been wasted.
"And what are you doing here?" He asked taking another good look at her, "Seducing me?"
She laughed, "I was hoping more on a shirt," Desna said.
"How cruel," he said, "Wait here," Desna looked at him as he get back in his room. Lip didn't take long before getting back with one of his shirts.
"Thank you," she said happily, but he took it out of her reach. "Can I have a kiss first?" He smirked. And even if she would have liked to tease him a bit, Desna really wanted to kiss him. So with a smile, she circled his neck with her arms, before crushing her lips to his. She heard Lip smirk against her, before hugging her waist, deepening the kiss. Desna's fingers went to his hair, loving the way Lip kissed her.
"I'm maid of honor and I don't know you had a brother," Fiona's voice got Desna attention, making her break the kiss.
"What is it?" Asked Lip with a frown, but Desna shushed him.
"There's a reason for that," she heard Kev. Desna got closer to the stairs.
"He bust out of preason?" Fiona asked.
"Last night," Kev answered.
"Oh shit," Desna muttered. Lip got more confused.
"What was he in for?" Fiona was asking sitting on the couch, with a cup of coffee in her hand. Desna could already see the distress on V's face as she paced the livingroom wearing only her bra and underwear.
"Aggravated assault, larceny and arson," V answered angrily.
"Arson?" Lip asked from behind Desna, as they made their way down the stairs, "Who you talking about?"
"V's brother," Desna answered, and then she walked to the chair to sit down.
"Oh, is that, like a sibling brother, or a black-guy brother?" Lip asked confused, making Desna glare at him.
"Remember the fire at Curves in the mall?" V started to say, putting her clothes back on, "That was him," Lip turned to Desna, that nodded. She still remembered that day. It had been hell.
"He loves setting fire to things," V kept explaining, "And he hates women. It was the perfect storm," Fi had wide eyes, while Lip had lit up a cigarette, walking towards where Desna was, taking a sit on the arm of the chair she was sit on.
"He's nuts." Kev exclaimed and Desna did not feel to disagree. He was not a presence she felt very comfortable with, "Serious, he's nuts. He came at me. I had to fight my ass off."
Desna's eyes widened, "You okay?"
"Yes, babe," Kev answered, before keep telling his story. "Then one time I'm having a brew, he came up to me; all: 'Ass cunt fuck!' on me."
Fiona frowned, "Is he retarded?"
"He's got Tourette," answered Desna.
"Yeah, coupled with bipolar disorder and drinking problem," V added, "He's a shrink's wet dream."
Desna and Lip shared a look.
"What do we do now?" Desna asked turning to V.
"Kick his ass back to prison," exclaimed the woman, "You know this, Des. If there's one person you can always count on to fuck things up, it's Marty." Desna nodded her head, silently. "I'm going to talk to him," she said, gesturing to Kev to follow her.
"I'm coming too." Fiona said standing up.
"What do I do?" Desna asked.
"You stay here," V said as they walked towards the door. "He's far too agitated."
"Alright," Desna muttered, looking at the door closing. Then she stood up.
"Is it bad?" Asked Lip with brow raised as he blew out some smoke.
Desna shrugged her shoulders, "I wouldn't say 'bad', but surely is an inconvenience."
V wanted nothing but to spend a good daw for her wedding, and she really didn't want anything to ruin it. But Marty could be really stubborn and since he had broke out of preason they rather had to convince him to turn himself in, or call the police. And everything before that afternoon.
"Hey," Lip said, taking her hand so that she could look at him, "It's going to be fine," he assured her, his hands on her hips, "And we are going to have so much fun tonight."
She let out a little giggle. She barely could wait for Lip to see her dress.
"Yes?" He asked pulling her close to give her neck a quick kiss.
"Yes," she answered pulling back, "But go take a shower. I really can't take you seriously with 'Pil' on your forehead."
He chuckled, his lips pecked hers, "Alright. Eat something." She nodded as he walked towards the stairs. Then Desna went to the kitchen to eat some cereal with a cup of milk. In the mean time both Ian and Carl had woken up.
"Hello, gorgeous," said Carl, still wearing the clothes from the days before.
"Hello, Carl," she answered pushing the pack of cereal to him. "Did you have fun yesterday?"
He nodded, "There were strippers." Desna nodded, "I really don't wanna know," then she got up to get closer to Ian.
"What are you doing here?" She asked on a whisper, "I thought you had a date."
Ian looked at her, after making sure that his brother was busy with something else.
"It was too strange," he muttered, "In his room. His and his wife's room. And with all the pictures of their sons."
"That's awkward," Desna could not find it difficoult to believe thst Ian had decided to ran away. "What are you planning on doing now?"
Ian shook his head, "I don't know." Desna smiled affectionstely, before going on her tiptoes, to kiss Ian on the cheek.
"You'll figure it out," she said as he nodded looking at her, "And if you think about calling things off, you're handsome, I'm sure all the boys in Chicago wants to have their way with you."
Ian let out a chuckle before kissing her temple.
After that, Desna decided to go upstairs to wash and change herself. When she reached the top, she saw Lip in his room. He was wearing only his jeans and he was drying his hsir with a towel.
"You like what you see?" He asked noticing her on the door frame.
"You know I like it," Lip chuckled, looking at her. "I like it too."
Desna shook her head, before heading back to the bathroom. Since they decided to get back at their situationship, Desna could feel that there was something different between them. But she really did not want to ask anything. She wanted to enjoy Lip's attentions. Lip became restless everytime she had tried to ask what he felt for her, so she decided to wait.
After having washed up, she went back to Debbie's room to take her belongings. But when she entered, her eyes went to her phone. She had recieved a message. Curiously she took her phone in her hand, and opened the notification.
Hi.
It said only that. Desna looked up at the number, but it was written 'Unknown'. Who could that be?
"Des, you want my pants, so you don't have to put yesterday dress on?" Lip had entered, making her turn to the door. "You okey?" He asked with a frown. He was too intelligent to miss anything.
"Just a message," she said. And that seemed to get him curious as he got close.
"From who?"
"It's unknown," she answered with a shrug of her shoulders, heanding the phone to him, "Probably they got the wrong number."
He read the message, before frown again, "Could have said more."
"Or not," she said taking the phone back, "I really don't want a dirty text from a stranger."
That made him chuckle, "And from me?"
She pushed him playfully, "Stop it," she sid with a laugh, "I want to go see if V and Kev need help with Marty."
He nodded his head, "Cool," he said, "Let's go."
After she got ready, pulling some of Lip's clothes on, Desna was ready to go out. Lip went with her as he promised and Carl had decided to go with them. But when they arrived at Desna's house, they caught Fiona, V and Kev holding a ladder, where Debbie had climbed to look inside the house.
"Call the cops on my own brother?" V was saying, "It's always like this. Nobody can be center of attention. It's always gotta be about him," then she yelled, "You should be in a nuthouse!"
"What's going on?" Lip asked with a frown.
"Veronica's brother is threatening to burn the place down," Fiona expalined to them.
"What?" Exclaimed Desna.
"Cool," said Carl from in front of her, that decided to ignore him.
"He's saying that he's gonna light thr dress and the shit-sack house on fire," Debbie said from above them.
"Oh shit," Desna muttered, sharing a look with V and Kev.
"What a shit-sack?" Debbie asked with a frown.
**************
Tag List: @th3h0nkz @aunicornmademedoit @g0thchick
If you want to be add to the tag list just let me know.
If you liked it, plerase leave a ♥️ and reblog!
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urfavnegronerd · 8 months
Text
stars in the sky- phora + jhene aiko
trope: fluff, s/o mick for the idea in my ask box smooches 
sum slight 
warnings: grammarly hates me, reader has trouble sleeping bc i said so (i’ve had so much trouble falling asleep idk why), no use of pronouns but use of mama, ma, n mami, idk how much i like it but im outa slump so yay, lmk if i missed anything
published: august 15, 2023
song lyrics are italicized   
w/c: 1.3k ish
reader is black-coded like always 
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stay in the state of the greatest bliss 
Miles’ room was dark. Well, dark-ish. He tried though, pulling the curtains all the way shut, turning off the light in his room and the hallway, but the afternoon sun still gently weaved its way through the fibers of his curtains. 
“What’s the point of this, Miles?” 
“To get you to try and sleep,” 
“It's four in the afternoon,” 
“Naptime,” 
“What?” 
“Just try, mama, okay?”  
You’d never been a good sleeper and usually stayed awake while Miles fell asleep in your arms, that was how it usually went. Even more so when he came to your window late at night after his Prowler duties, those visits mainly consisted of cleaning any wounds or scratches, on occasion giving him stitches, helping him change, and kissing the top of his head when he inevitably dozed off on your chest. You were usually up then anyway, it was a fun addition to your nighttime routine. Miles had only begun to worry about your sleeping patterns when you fell asleep at 9 am while you were over his, watching a telenovela with Mrs. Morales. Gently nudging you awake after the telenovela marathon at about 1 that afternoon, he fell into the pattern of observing your moods. Most of which during the day consisted of you constantly being tired, and yawning, but somehow always getting school work done that assisted in your straight A’s. At first, he assumed that it was just you putting too much pressure on yourself to perform, but when he realized these patterns continued well into school breaks, he started to worry. 
He had started to realize that every time he came to your window after his Prowler work, you were up anyway, reading, writing, drawing, or pretty much any activity you could get your hands on. Again, at first, he thought this was endearing, and went as far as getting puzzles for you after he had interrupted the puzzle on the floor when he gently knocked on your window. And so a much-needed conversation ensued the morning after.
“Ma, I’m worried about you,”  
“For why Miles?” You turn your attention away from the mirror where you’re laying your baby hair down. 
“Ian never seen you sleep,” 
“So?” 
“Do you sleep?” 
“Yeah, I just have some trouble with it is all,” 
“I don’t make you sleepy?” 
“You make me feel safe, comfortable, relaxed, and loved, but no Miles, you don’t make me sleepy,” 
He huffed, falling back onto your duvet. 
“What's wrong papá?” 
“I’m worried about you,” 
“Sueñito, you don’t need to be worried about me,” 
“You fall asleep when most people would be awake starting their days, almost always during the first and second period, mama, that's not normal,” 
“Maybe I’m just sleepy in general,” You were beginning to get defensive then, why did he care if you were tired usually? 
He sighed then, rubbing his eyes and urging himself out of your bed. He didn’t want to fight with you, he never wanted to fight with you, so he had just decided to leave it alone then. However, the very same conversation was repeated about two weeks later. The two of you were walking home, as school had gotten out early that day, and you had slowly begun to slump onto Miles’ shoulder, yawning and rubbing your eyes. 
“Ma?” There was a twinge of concern in his voice, it was barely even noon, is it normal to be this tired? “You okay?”  
“‘m just tired,” You yawn, still clawing at your eyes. 
“It’s 11:45,” 
“So?” 
“Mama,” he knew you were just being stubborn, but he also knew you didn’t want to admit that you had a problem sleeping. You didn’t like to ask for help, you tried to get things right on your own, and you usually did. “Be honest.” 
“Fine,” you forced out, shame tugging at your cheeks, and Miles knew exactly what you meant by that
“Thank you,”  
And so, the two of you were here, in this moment. 
“Please? Just try for me,” 
You huff plopping onto his mattress. 
“Now what?” 
“We wait,” 
“Oh, joy,”
whenever i’m in your atmosphere  
The two of you had been lying, in the dark, for about an hour and a half. Naturally, the sun was slowly beginning to set, hence dimming the light in his room. 
At this point, you were fighting sleep. It’s not like you didn’t feel exhausted all the fucking time, it’s that you had this mental block in your head. It’s like when you’re so tired but you can’t manage to fall asleep, like someone is forcing your eyes open. It’s hell, and it frustrates you, makes you want to scream and cry and essentially just throw a tantrum. Not that you’d ever admit it, but you feel so powerless, so out of control. A sigh mixed with anger, frustration, and disappointment breezes through your lips as you press the heels of your palms into your eyes. 
“Uh uh ma, don’t do that,” he whispers, gently pushing your hands away from your eyes. “What’s wrong?” 
“This isn’t working,” you whine. “I turn seventeen in a year and I can’t even sleep right,” 
“Hey hey hey, it’s not that serious,” 
“I’m so tired, Miles,” you mumble, tears poking at your eyes. 
“Amor, I know it’s frustrating, okay? I know how much you love to be in control and I get that, but this is so bad for you,” 
“I know,” 
“So can we try? Just one more time?” 
“Yeah,” 
“Do you want like, some kind of noise?” 
“Can you just talk?” 
“Yeah. I can do that,” 
And he does. He talks about anything and everything, all while staring at you, your body pressed against him, your face angled upwards at him. Your full lips slightly parted in a little ‘o’ as your big brown eyes ogle up at him. To a lot of people, everything he’s saying would seem pretty mundane, but the way his voice soothes you is something different. His voice is calm, cool, and collected, his nuyo accent ever so prominent. 
You’re not sure just how much time passes until you slowly begin to get groggy, your eyes heavy. Miles, obviously, takes notice and brings his voice down to a whisper. 
“Dad woulda been so happy I met you, ma,” 
Your movements are thick as syrup, you nod, trying to open your eyes more so he knows that he has your full attention. 
“No no no, don’t do that,” he whispers, running a hand over your eyes, forcing them to droop lazily once again. 
“Jus wan’ you to know ‘m listening” you slur, languidly clutching his wrist. The point of this action? You didn’t know, but you held onto him anyway. 
“You’re always listening, Ian gotta worry bout that.” He mumbles, softly stroking your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. His hands are calloused and rough, but they’re always soft and gentle, making sure to love every curve of you. As your eyes begin to wilt close, he delicately traces your cupid bow, in response to which your lightly freckle-kissed nose scrunches, your brows tightly knitting themselves together. With a quiet laugh, he gently runs his fingers over your eyebrows, desperately trying to relax your face, to which you hum tiredly in response. 
“Kiss?” 
“Mmmm,” you groan, fatigue finally catching up to you, in affirmation. Taking the hint, he kisses you- your cheeks, chin, jaw, everywhere– peppering light butterfly kisses all over your face. Gently, you sigh and fully close your eyes, your head relaxing into the pillow. Smiling, he brushes gentle kisses onto both of your eyelids and then your nose. Cradling your head into his chest he kisses the bonnet covering your hair, inhaling the scent of hair product and oil, the scent of you, something he adored in a way that words couldn’t describe. 
“Sleep, princesa.”
i’m so glad that i got you, you’re my dream come true <3
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a/n: everyone say thank u mick @lunarfleur
taglist: @hiimayee @masaidabest @lunarfleur @zo3ez @miguellover6969 @[email protected] (idk if this person is on tumblr or not but hey!) @nagi3seastorm @kombuuuu
reblogs are always appreciated for reach <3
xoxo,
rae <3
p.s. taglist form in my masterlist as well as my spam lmao
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m4ndysk4nkovich · 7 months
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VERY LONG shameless headcanon: rotc ian
so we know that ian joined rotc when he was in 7th/8th grade, but we also know he had a g.i. joe as a kid, and i get that’s not an uncommon toy but it made me decide that ian always wanted to be a soilder.
like, we know that monica was a military brat. her father served for his country, and so she must’ve known a lot about the military. we also know that she hated her father, and frank says that monica’s parents ruined her.
so lets say one day shortly after little debbie gallagher was born grandpa bill (as he insists on being called) goes into the gallagher house, demanding to see his four grandchildren. he’s a very cruel man who judges them for their poverty, but as he starts to ramble on about his experiences in the marines, however, ian is extremely interested unlike the rest of them. he can tell.
ian asks him questions and he answers, and they’re all surpised by the change of tone in grandpa bill’s voice. he sounds much more loving and sweet when talking to ian, monica grumbles something about how he never talked to me like that when i was ian’s age.
grandpa bill leaves the house, complaining about how disgusting it is, and shows up only one more time (the only time after being his daughter’s funeral in twenty years or so) to give ian a present, a g.i. joe.
the gallagher’s didn’t get the luxury of toys, the only other toy that ian had was a teddy bear that he got from the hospital when he was born, which was now missing an eye, some stuffing, and was soaked in piss and sweat. so when ian got this g.i. joe he was so excited and would not let go of it. he kept it in his arms for an entire day, once, while eating breakfast, at school, on the bus, at dinner, in the bath, then to bed. it was his. so when he lost it on the train one day, he started sobbing so hard he was hyperventilating. frank called him a drama queen and monica was too high on coke or whatever she had taken to care, so they refused to go and find it, frank yelled at him for losing it in the first place, saying it was irresponsible. lip ended up somehow getting it back for ian, which made ian love his brother so much more. this was the day ian realized that lip was more paternal than frank was.
he stopped playing with the g.i. joe in third grade, and gave it to carl. when he found it years later it was all melted and gross. in fourth grade, he started playing football and basketball to get stronger for the army. his parents never went to any of his games, but kev and v did. kev was the one who got him onto the teams anyways (he coached basketball and knew the football coach).
in seventh grade, he was able to do jrotc, which he did. and he was great at it. so great that he decided that he was definitely going to not only be a soilder, but an officer. and he would also go to military school, preferably a really good one, like west point. that was around the time when he started doing 200 push-ups before school.
in tenth grade he used is rotc skills to impress linda. the summer before eleventh grade he began studying like crazy for west point, but found out that lip got in. in eleventh grade, he built that “fuckin’ obstacle training course thing” as mickey called it on the roof of an abandoned building. only mickey knew about it. he dropped out before twelfth grade, and didn’t go to west point. he instead joined the military, attempted to steal a helicopter, injured his hand, ran away, and became a stripper. a year later he was in military prison.
when carl gets into military school and starts waking up early and running with ian every morning, ian can’t help but feel a bit jealous because that was supposed to be him. but he pretends that he’s not and watches as his little brother follows in his footsteps- kind of. really the only way he actually follows in ian’s footsteps is by getting rejected from west point, which if carl actually got into, ian might have actually gone insane.
the end that’s a super long headcanon i didn’t even mean for it to be that long i should write a fic on this
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howlinchickhowl · 8 months
Text
Couple of days late because I keep falling asleep while writing, but here is my little contribution for day 9 of @gallavichthings a.u.gust fiesta.
Got me stuck on your face and your body nine - college
There’s an alarm clock blaring, it’s been blaring for what feels like hours, and it’s not his. He doesn’t even have an alarm clock. This day and age who even owns a real fucking clock anymore? Doesn’t everyone just use their phone?
The noise stops, and Mickey cracks an eye open. Through his minimal aperture he can see a a light green colored towel, a pair of legs dusted with light ginger hair. Ian.
“Sorry about the alarm, I woke up early and jumped in the shower, forgot it was even set.”
He sounds so awake already, alive with energy at whatever ghastly hour of the morning someone like Ian chooses to rise in the morning. It’s as much as Mickey can do to roll over onto his back, and even that feels like too much of an effort. He slings one arm over his face to block out the obnoxious sunlight streaming through Ian’s cheap dorm-room curtains, and sucks in a deep yawn of a breath.
“It’s all good man,” He says, on the tail end of the yawn, “didn’t mean to fall asleep. Shoulda woken me.”
“I didn’t mind you staying.” The weight on the bed shifts like Ian has just sat down, and when Mickey drags his arm from his eyes to look he’s right there, chest bare, soft hairs on his pecs glistening with large droplets of water because the guy apparently doesn’t know how towels work and clambers every day from the shower dripping like an umbrella after a rainstorm.
He watches a single rivulet wind its way down towards a nipple, take a detour around a particularly thick hair and drop into the valley that marks the centre of Ian’s well defined chest.
He drags his gaze away and meets Ian’s eyes, warm and open, and it sinks in to Mickey what Ian had said. That he didn’t mind Mickey staying over. It’s crazy to Mickey how easily shit like that just rolls off Ian’s tongue, like he just says exactly what he’s thinking or feeling, in the moment when he’s thinking or feeling it. Mickey wonders what that must be like. To be just completely at ease all the damn time. It couldn’t be him.
“Well, didn’t mean to, so.”
Case in point. The words that roll off Mickey’s tongue are always awkward and stilted, and only ever half of what he really wants to be saying, and almost always succeeds in making whomever he is talking to smaller and less happy and less bright than they were before he spoke.
Something in Ian shuts down, his openness, that light inside him that Mickey is so obsessed with, can’t get enough of, dims, just a little, and just like every time he opens his mouth, Mickey regrets his words.
“What you got your alarm set for anyway?” He asks, dropping his hand onto Ian’s bent knee where he’s sat sideways on the bed. “You don’t got class today.”
One thing that’s great about Ian is that Mickey kind of thinks he gets it. Mickey’s words can hurt him but if he can get a hand on him, quickly, he recovers. Like he understands what it means when Mickey uses his touch to try and soothe the lashes his tongue doles out.
Like now, green eyes glance down at where Mickey’s hand is resting on a towel clad knee, and a little smile forms on his lips
“You know my schedule Mickey?”
Smug bastard. And he does, is the problem. They’ve been fucking basically since class began in September, since Mickey had wandered into a frat house kitchen at a party Mandy had dragged him to and shared a shot with the giant red-head hiding from the party by ‘manning the bar’. He was the least likely frat dude you could imagine, sweet and kind of shy, not interested in keg stands or embarrassing pledges. They’d ended up back in Ian’s room that night and Mickey’s been freefalling ever since. He’s into him so deep it’s embarrassing.
Yeah, he knows his fucking schedule. Knows when his classes are and his preferred times to go to the gym, knows he treats himself to lunch outside the cafeteria once a week, on Wednesdays, on a rotating schedule of alternative campus eateries. Knows he calls his big sister on Fridays, facetimes his big brother most mornings on his way to class. Knows what day and time he goes to his book club that’s not a book club, but that he won’t actually tell Mickey what it is. He knows, and he feels like a fucking pussy for knowing, and he knows that if he replies right now he’ll say something even more hurtful than he already has because his stupid fucking brain thinks it will make it less embarrassing to be obsessed with Ian if there’s no way Ian could ever possibly know.
“Got a frat thing early, philanthropy requirement, that’s why the alarm.”
There’s a blush spreading across Ian’s cheeks, the same that always does whenever he talks about fraternity stuff, he’s the only frat guy Mickey ever met who doesn’t like to let on he’s in a frat. Mickey’d asked him once, why he’d joined if he found it so embarrassing to be a Greek. He’d said that when he’d come to college he’d been lonely, had missed the noise and the company of being at home with all his siblings, the frat had seemed like a way to have that again, on campus.
“Gotta go be a good boy, huh?” Ian quirks a suggestive eyebrow at that and the shadow of a shiver rushes up Mickey’s spine. It is way too easy to get him going where Ian’s concerned. “Guess I’ll let you get to it then, I’m gonna head out.”
He rolls himself to the other side of the bed and pushes himself up to standing, starting to find where his clothes had ended up. He finds them in a neat pile on the chair by the window, shirt and pants and boxers folded, fucking boy scout.
“You don’t have to go.” Ian tells him while he’s pulling up his pants, rooting in his underwear drawer for some clean boxers and dropping his towel to pull them on.
“I got a paper due.”
“Well, are you busy later? I’m supposed to go to this open mic thing at Java John’s…”
Mickey winces at the thought of an ‘open mic thing’ and Ian trails off, finishes buttoning his shirt, smart clothes for philanthropy hours. Mickey tries not to let his gaze linger too long, but the fact is, Ian looks good all dressed up.
“But I could skip it? If you wanted to…” He trails off again, shrugging at Mickey like he doesn’t really know what he’s suggesting.
He’s suggesting spending time together, really, that’s what he’s always suggesting. All the time he’s inviting Mickey along to some event or telling him about some party, just trying to spend time with him, and every time he does Mickey blows him off, turns it into some innuendo, or manufactures the scenario so that instead of hanging out like normal people, like Ian so clearly wants to do, they end up just fucking.
It’s not like Mickey doesn’t want to hang out with Ian, properly. Without fucking. He does. He would. But the thing is, they’re good at fucking. They’ve got great chemistry and he knows he can make Ian feel good, that he can hold his interest for that, that he won’t disappoint the guy.
But without that, if they’re just spending time together and talking and not distracted by the overwhelming pleasure of an impending orgasm, Ian might figure out that in the long run, Mickey’s not smart or interesting or worth spending time with at all. And he can’t have that.
He finishes shoving his feet inside his boots and looks up, finding Ian still looking over at him, hopefully. And he wants to say yes. He wants to say sure, and sounds fun. Wants to meet Ian at the stupid fucking Java John’s and listen to some emo loser singing acoustic covers of eighties pop hits and drink an overpriced cup of coffee and just, sit next to the guy, smile at him, make him laugh. Feel the warmth of his body radiate against Mickey’s own. He wants it so badly he can hardly breathe from the wanting.
And what if he did it? What if he said yes? What if, actually, Ian didn’t find him boring or stupid or only good for fucking? What if, actually, they had a great fucking time and great sex? Looking into Ian’s imploring eyes, for the first time he believes it might be possible.
He takes a deep breath, takes a massive fucking leap, and says.
“They got beer at the Java John’s?”
The smile on Ian’s face makes his heart almost beat out of his chest, and he hopes, hopes he’s made the right choice.
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look-i-love-u · 2 months
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Gallacrafts - Theme 29 - Freckles
Welcome to the second part of "let's stretch this theme to its limits" - @gallacrafts edition. This actually is a sequel to this post and crafts here.
There's only one thing that Mickey hates more than Ian refusing to put out in the morning - and that's when his second favorite Gallagher is unhappy.
And this time she's really unhappy. She hasn't talked to Mickey in two days. And she usually calls him each night to at least tell him good night and which shit her mum got up during the day. Mickey often ends up telling her a bedtime story but whatever.
Anyway... Frannie is pissed. At him. And Mickey hates it. He bribes Debbie with Sweet Susan's to tell him what the fuck is going on.
Frannie is jealous. Because Freddie got a monkey and she didn't. And she IS Uncle Ian's "Monkey"! So she's doubly offended.
Mickey knows he has to get active when she calls fucking Lip "my favorite Uncle" in front of him and gives him the side-eye.
Well, played, Little Red. Well played.
Mickey starts his next crocheting project that very evening. Another monkey. For Frannie. He knows her well and so the skirt is detachable. For the days she doesn't feel like wearing a dress.
Frannie loves it. She names the monkey "Freckles" because that's what Uncle Mickey calls her. He's her favorite again (he always was - but ssshhh!).
Freckles ends up being a mafia boss or undercover weapons dealer during their playtime. They're just that awesome.
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hvnnibvni · 1 year
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Together Again | JJK *Spoiler*
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Pairings: Jungkook/Reader
Genre: Mature themes. Romance. Angst. Arranged marriage AU. Childhood best friends to lovers AU.
Warnings: cheating, reader is a rope bunny (ALLEGEDLY), hard!dom JK, switch!reader, reader likes to be slutted out, drunken sex, unplanned pregnancy(this is in the end dw😅), cunnilingus, oral (both receiving), fighting (talk shit get hit) daddy!kink, praise!kink, dirty talk, spanking, hair pulling. Just all around nasty y’all.
Summary: After reader finds her long-term boyfriend in bed with their mutual friend. She moves back into her family home, but under one condition. She has to marry her childhood friend that has been arranged since their childhood. For a wedding gift they go to a mountainous getaway with a group of friends, reader is told that ex and mutual friend get invited, so reader and jk decide to pretend not to know each other to avoid any confusion or miscommunication.
Authors note: This, if not obvious, is my first time writing. Like call me the virgin marry of writing cuz idk what I’m doing. But we gone figure it out though. Anyways some things might change throughout the story just bear with me. This is actually a piece of the end not the whole thing. More of a drabble if you will darling, cuz idk if it’s good or not and Ian trynna EMBARRASS myself. But in all honesty I want honest reviews just don’t hurt my feelings I will cry 😐 I would like respectful constructive criticism, not no “yOu WrItInG DumB HAr hAr🤓” type bs y’all can take that childish shit somewhere else, and other writers feel the same way when people do stuff like that kind of stuff isn’t cute or funny when you’re the only one laughing babes. Sorry I just went on a whole tangent. Anyways enjoy my piece of a piece 😂 (Edit: ex doesn’t have a name neither does the ex bff)
——————————————————————
Everyone is having their own separate conversations when ex bff brings up the fact that y/n doesn’t look like she’s feeling well. Y/n bushes it off but ex bff pushes a little harder and say “I’m just trying to make sure you and your baby are okay” the table goes dead silent, everyone too stunned to speak. Jungkook watching quietly.
“ what is she talking about?” Asks ex bf. Y/n calm as ever replies “ I’m pregnant.” Looking right at (name). “Well I don’t know what to say,” ex bf goes on to say while acting flattered. “I mean you know I’ve always wanted to be a dad-“
“it’s mine.”
Everyone turned shocked to look at Jungkook who’d been sitting quietly the whole time. “How long?” He proceeds to ask, ignoring everyone around them. “Around 8 weeks” y/n responds. “When did you find out?“ His questioning continues “Yesterday morning.” Y/n answered, not missing a beat “why didn’t you tell me?” He interrogates further. “It was going to be a surprise, but it seems plans have changed.” She answers calmly, although she is agitated that her plans were ruined all for a petty jab that gave the latter 5 seconds of satisfaction.
“Wait… what’s going on?” Ex question confusingly. “you know him?” He asks y/n. “Y’a she does, rather well actually. We grew up together” Jungkook answers. “Y/n and I are married.” “WHAT!!” Ex exclaims “Since when?!” Ex continues “because we broke up about 2 months ago. The time checks out. So that would mean you cheated on me.” He reach’s.
“Well not exactly.” Jungkook goes on to explain. “Y/n and I were arranged by our parents when we were little. But then she chose to be with you and was disowned by her family. So when you guys broke up, she went back to her family under the condition that she marries me. How it was always supposed to be.” He finishes looking at ex.
“So wait.” Everyone turns to look at ex bff. “Y/n isn’t some poor gold digger “ex” found off the street? I don’t believe that.” She says spitefully. “I’ve know y/n for years and not once has she ever showed she is the heiress like you all say. I mean how come i’ve never seen or heard about her? Huh? Riddle me that?”
“Do you not know what disowned means you mamahuevo? Eh? Does anything flicker between the last two brain cells you have AI COÑAZO CULO! EL BURRO SABE MAS QUE TU!!” Gabriella screams at ex bff fed up with her bs this weekend, bout ready to jump her if she wasn’t worried for y/n’s stress levels.
“This is some Penelope Douglas ass shit bitch.” Meimi whispers to Jimin next to her waiting to see what happens next.
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arrowflier · 6 months
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Hi, Arrow! It's so great to have you back. For the speedwrites, how about the two of them getting stranded somewhere overnight, because of a flat tire or bad weather. 🚗❤️
Thanks Deena! I was trying to go cutesy and then this happened instead, oops😂
“You also told me you’d be ready when I got home, so whose fault is this again?”
Mickey grimaces.
“Would’ve been if not for your brother.”
“Oh, sure.” Mickey can see the roll of Ian’s eyes reflected in the windshield. “Carl made you stay late at the Alibi.”
“What was I supposed to do? Turn down free drinks?” Mickey scoffs. “Yeah, sure.”
He leans forward, peers past Ian out the driver’s side window. He can’t see much except the rain, coming down sideways now, and the roll of clouds in the distance as lightning flashes through them. Beyond the spread of their weak headlights, he can’t even make out the road.
“You sure you can’t drive in this?” he asks anyway, squinting as if it will help him see through the darkness. “Think I probably could. Just need to—”
“Good for you,” Ian cuts in sharply. “Next time, don’t drink five rounds before we leave and I’ll let you try.”
Mickey subsides. Sits back in his seat, lets his head fall against the headrest. Straightens, undoes his seatbelt, and leans back again.
Ian isn’t moving. His hands are still on the wheel even though he’s already put the car in park, and he’s staring blindly through the windshield.
“Shitty start to our first vacation, huh?” Mickey comments, turning toward him and fidgeting until one leg is half up on the seat. He smiles wryly. “I mean, we’re supposed to be in a cabin right now, smoking it up and fucking in front of the fire—”
“I’m trying, okay Mickey?” Ian snaps, fingers white where they still clutch the wheel, and Mickey stops.
It’s cold in the car. Colder than it was a minute ago, a chill seeping through him as his eyes latch onto Ian’s set jaw. Ian is grinding his teeth, giving the weather outside the chin, and his eyes are—
Oh, fuck. That’s not the good kind of red.
“Hey.” He tries to say it softly, but it rings too loud in the suddenly quiet car. The last of his buzz slips away as he reaches out a hand grips Ian’s wrist. He tries to tug Ian’s arm toward him, but it stays stubbornly where it is.
“What,” Ian asks shortly, and Mickey winces.
“I don’t know,” he admits. “I was just teasing you, man.”
Ian snorts. It sounds wet.
“You’re right though,” he says. There’s a bitter roughness to his tone, like he’s fighting to push the words out of his throat. “This was supposed to be a nice thing, a good thing for us. I worked so hard to set it up, and I—” He breaks off. His fingers flex on the wheel, Mickey’s hand moving with his arm as he finally pulls it back. “And I couldn’t even plan for the fucking weather.”
“Ian,” Mickey says. His hand slides from wrist to knuckles, around to palm. “We live in the fucking midwest. The weather can’t even plan itself.”
That earns him another snort, but it’s lighter this time.
“Was sunny this morning,” he agrees. “Not a cloud in sight.”
“Sneaky fuckers, clouds. Total airheads, too.”
This time he gets an actual laugh, and Ian’s fingers tightening on his.
“Sorry this got fucked up,” Ian says quietly, running a thumb across the back of Mickey’s hand. “But I think we’re gonna be stuck here for a while.”
Thunder booms closer, as if in answer. The rain gets louder, water covering the windshield until all they can see are streaks of light. Then even those are gone as Mickey reaches over Ian with his free hand and turns off the headlights.
“Been stuck in worse places.” He shifts until he’s leaning sideways over the center console, and lays his head on Ian’s tense shoulder. “And with worse company.”
Ian lets his hand be pulled over into Mickey’s lap. The position is awkward, but he twists to press his face into Mickey’s hair.
“Yeah,” he breathes, barely audible over the storm. “Me too.”
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lupeloto · 5 months
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“the best thing to ever happen to me” ficlet
so ian is struggling with a down and mickey does some reasssuring
Mickey stands at a still in the doorway for a bit, the lowering Sun peaking through the small crack in the curtains. It’s shining on Ian’s body, glistening against his pale-freckled skin, like it was made to illuminate him.
Mickey stalls in the doorway a moment longer, his heart slightly weighed down at the sight of Ian in the same position he left him in this morning… covers draped loosely over his stomach, arms curled underneath his chin, back turned towards the door
“Hey sleepyface,” Mickey shakes himself, forcing a smile on his face as he makes his way to Ian’s side of the bed.
Mickey crouches down in front of him, bringing his hand up to gently caress his cheek as Ian’s eyes flutter open slowly.
A small, almost unnoticeable smile tugs at his lips at the sight of Mickey, “Hey,” he says in a barely audible whisper.
“Hey,” Mickey grins, “Can I make ya something to eat? I’ll see what i can do with the fuckin’ pizza rolls and pop-tarts we got.”
Ian doesnt respond, simply shifting the comforter back on the spot next to him, signaling for Mickey to join him. Although irritated at being ignored, he feels a rush of relief flood his body. Ian wanting company was a good sign.
“Alright softie, gimme a minute,” Mickey tugs off his work uniform before grabbing a pair of sweatpants from the drawer. He pulls back the comforter, a sigh of relief escaping him as the cold sheets hit his bare chest. It had been a long day taking on deliveries himself…not that he would ever complain.
“Ya wanna turn around? Haven’t seen that face all day,” Mickey touches Ian’s shoulder lightly.
Ian slowly turns his body around, a certain sluggishness plaguing his movements, “Telling me you miss my face and i’m the softie?” He speaks slower than usual, a lag in his joke delivery but a small smile on his face anyways.
“Fuck off,” Mickey says through stifled laughs. He revels in this moment, that sunset now revealing a dusted pink through the curtains that shine on Ian’s face, perfectly complimenting the dusting of orange freckles.
“I’m sorry,” Ian whispers, facing Mickey, hands curling up under his chin again.
“I know it’s hard. It doesn’t just happen to me,” he hesitates, stumbling slightly over his words, “It-it’s happening to you, too. And i’m-“
“Hey,“ Mickey leans his face in closer, eyes staring up at Ian, “Shut the fuck up for me.”
“Don’t wanna hear any more of that shit. You happening to me was the best goddamn thing I could’ve asked for,” Mickey rolls over on his back, slightly insecure at the level of intimacy in the statement.
“Hey,” Ian touches Mickey’s chin, turning his face towards him, “You’re the best thing to ever happen to me too.”
“Yeah?” Mickey asks, flashing that one-smile he does paired with a flush of his cheeks. Ian fucking loves that smile. From the minute he first saw it he never wanted it to leave, promising himself to make him smile like that every single day he could.
“Yup. Known it for eleven years of my life,” Ian says, a slight higher register in his voice that lifts a small weight off Mickey’s chest.
“Alright, enough of this shit you sappy-ass. I’m starvin’, want some pizza rolls? Pop-tarts for dessert?” Mickey questions, raising his eyebrows sarcastically as if he had just offered Ian a five-star meal.
“Sounds perfect.” Ian says through a satisfied sigh.
Mickey fumbles out of the bed, leaning over the place a quick peck on Ian’s forehead, moving to his lips for a slightly longer one.
They pull away, a smile on both their faces, “Now get your ass in there, Gordon Ramsey,” Ian grins lightly, poking fun at Mickey’s five-star dinner proposal, feeling a blanket of warmth settling over him.
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