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cherrycocaineee · 3 years

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18. Sodapop - A Love All Too Real

*Warning - Smut; spanking, biting, dirty talk, hair pulling, car sex*

“My baby did so well.”

“Cum one more time for me, I know you’ve got it in you.”

“I know, baby, I know. I’m right here, just breathe.”

*Sodapop’s p.o.v*

Mickey Mouse was playing loudly throughout the living room, trying to muffle the sounds of the rain beating against the roof. It worked a little, distracting all of us from the brewing storm outside. Two-Bit was sitting next between Steve and I, completely mesmerized by his favorite showing playing on the screen. It wasn’t getting late but most of us were ready to pass out in the spots we sat in; me including, my heavy eyelids sinking each time I blinked. However, we were shaken away when there was a rapid banging noise on the door. I pushed myself up off the cushion and peered towards the closed door like all the others, wondering who could possibly be standing outside in this weather. The knocking came again, except this time with a voice behind it.

“Seriously guys! Who else would be knocking at your damn door right now?!”

It was Anni.

Ponyboy hopped off the floor, leaving Johnny sitting there alone, and opened the front door quickly. Anni was standing there, her hand over her left eye, soaking wet from the rain fall. She glared at him.

“Took you long enough,” she grumbled.

“Sorry Anni,” he said, “we expected you to be at home.”

“I was at home. I got kicked out.”

When she stepped into the house, the multiple bruises on her skin, fresh blood was collected on her skin and clothes, and when she removed her hand from her eye you could see how bad it really was. Her eye was black and purple, and I could see that some of the blood vessels in her eye were popped due to the red color collecting in her eye.

“Holy shit,” Two-Bit muttered, his eyes staying off the television now.

No one cared about Mickey Mouse playing anymore, or how tired they were. We only cared about Anni.

She placed her bag down by the door as she passed Ponyboy, who was still in shock that he couldn’t even move to close the door. Steve did it for him, not wanting rain to get inside the house or on him.

“Anni,” Darry said, standing in front of her, “this is the third time this week.”

She looked at all of us before turning back to Darry, the unfazed look on her face never wavering, as she shrugged.

“So?” She muttered.

“So,” he continued, “you can’t keep livin’ like this.”

Anni waved her hand in front of her, rather annoyed that she had to hear this again. Anytime she came over covered in bruises, Darry or one of us would tell her she couldn’t live with her dad again. It was always met with the same unfazed look on her face along with a light shrug of the shoulders. Anni crossed her arm over her chest; I noticed that she didn’t even wince. She was so use to the constant abuse and beatings that they didn’t even hurt her physically anymore.

“Why not?” She asked, tilting her head to the side.

“Anni, you do realize that your eyeball is red right? Like the blood vessels in your eye have busted?” Dally inquired, taking a long drag from his cigarette.

“Well yeah, I’m going to clean myself up and wait for it to heal like always.”

“But what we’re sayin’,” I said, standing from my spot, “you don’t deserve to be beaten every time you go home. You deserved to be cared for and go to sleep safely.”

Once more, I noticed that the unfazed look in her eyes never wavered. She was so numbed to the abuse it didn’t seem wrong anymore. Instead, she turned away from all of us, facing the open bathroom ready to head inside so she could avoid the problem.

“Doesn’t matter to me. Lots of things shouldn’t happen but they do. People take what they want from me whenever they please; the want sex, they don’t have to ask they just take, if every night someone wants to beat the hell out of me so that they feel better then so be it. I’m nothing more than a toy; a disposable piece of shit that people tend to keep around until they’re done using me.”

With those final words, she walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. My heart broke into hundreds of pieces after hearing her say those words. Anni wasn’t a bad person, she just never knew what it felt like to be loved and cherished. All I wanted to do was love and cherish her. To lay beside her at night and hold her. To pepper her face with dozens of kisses while caressing her small form. To just show her what it felt to be cared about instead of used. But she was so brainwashed into thinking she didn’t matter, that she was nothing more than a throwaway doll, that she couldn’t see it.

Ponyboy wrapped his arms around him.

“We can’t keep lettin’ her live there, Darry,” he said.

“I know that, Pony, but unless she wants to leave there isn’t anythin’ we can do,” Darry said, “I’m goin’ to go make her somethin’ to eat.”

That was a normal routine when Anni came over all beaten up. She normally wouldn’t have eaten for two days before the beating. I had asked her why she didn’t eat two days in advance and she told me that it helped her not throw up when her dad kicked her in the stomach. Once more breaking my heart as I heard her tell me that she could anticipate when the beating was coming and how to make it hurt less.

I followed Darry into the kitchen, Steve and Ponyboy trailing behind me. He was already getting all of the sandwich stuff out, dinner having been served a while ago and with all of us here, there were no leftovers. I grabbed the mustard off the table and watched Pony take out some bread before spreading the yellow condiment on her sandwich. We worked in silence, not sure what we could say to one another. Darry was right; unless Anni wanted to leave her parents, to have a better life, there wasn’t much we could do.

As soon as we finished making her sandwich, and Steve added half a pickle to the plate, Anni came walking in while drying her hair with the towel. She was wrapped in nothing but a towel. In the kitchen light I could see her bruises more prominent.

“Soda, can I borrow some clothes?” She inquired.

“Sure thing, doll,” I said, rinsing my hands off and following her to my room.

I opened the drawer and took out a pair of gray sweatpants and a black wife beater that revealed a lot on the side. It was something I wore around the house when it was hot.

“You know, Pony has clothes that might fit you better,” I joked.

“Yeah, probably,” she laughed, “but they aren’t as comfortable as yours.”

I handed the clothes to her, looking at her beaten up face. I frowned.

“Does it hurt?” I whispered.

“No more than it normally does,” she shrugged, “can you close the door on your way out? Please, and thank you.”

Nodding my head, I left the room and closed the door behind me. Anni came out five minutes after wearing the sweats and wife beater I’d given her. It was much bigger on her than I’d expected, revealing all of her sides and if she moved her arms a certain way you could see the side of her breast. She wasn’t wearing a bra, not that she needed one because her breasts were small and perky.

A lump formed in my throat as I watched her. I had to force myself to look away. She plopped down on the recliner, throwing her legs over the arm of the chair as Darry walked in with her sandwich. He handed it to her and smiled.

“Eat up, kid,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said, smiling back.

Soon the rain went away; Darry had gone to sleep an hour ago, having to get up for work in the morning. Pony had fallen asleep on the floor beside Johnny, Dally left with Two-Bit to a party that was close by, and Steve was sprawled out beside me completely knocked out. His mouth was partially opened which made me laugh a little.

Anni was still awake. She walked over to me, her arms folded over her chest.

“Want to come outside with me?” She asked, “I need to smoke.”

“Sure, come on,” I said, standing up carefully not to wake Steve or the others.

I closed the door behind us and she shivered. The rain had made the air incredibly cold, and she was hardly wearing anything. Her pale skin glowed in the darkness, and in the small, illuminating porch light, I noticed that her nipples were erected.

“Come on,” I said, leading her to Darry’s truck.

We climbed into the backseat. I reached to the front and grabbed the spare keys underneath the visors. I turned the truck on and let the heater kick in so we could warm up. Anni was digging through her bag, removing a lighter and a container out. I watched her open the container and take out a joint. Anni didn’t smoke cigarettes, couldn’t stand the taste, but she did smoke weed and I was pretty sure it was because it numbed her from everything. I watched her light her joint and hit it, a cloud of smoke releasing from her perfect, soft, pink lips. The smell of weed collecting in the car and I knew I was going to have to air it out before we went in. Darry had the nose of a hound.

She looked over at me and held out the joint, “want some?”

“No thanks, doll,” I smiled.

Shrugging her shoulders, she continued to smoke the joint. Her unwounded eye turned hazy and became a bit red. With each puff, she was getting higher and higher; this obviously not being the first time she smoked tonight. She slouched down in her seat, the shirt riding up a little bit. I guess I’d been staring too long because she faced me and raised her eyebrow.

“Why do you keep staring at me like that?” She questioned.

“Just takin’ in all of your wounds,” I whispered, half lying.

She let her eyes land on the bruises decorating her arm before dropping it and taking another hit of her joint.

“You know, I’m use to it but they still hurt like hell.”

“You shouldn’t be use to it,” I muttered, “I hate seein’ you like this, Anni.”

Anni put out her smoke, putting it back in her purse and folding her arms, “why?”

“Because I care about you. Every time I see you all bruised up like this, it pisses me off. I swear if I ever see your dad-”

“You’ll do nothing.”

Our eyes met; hers cold, and distant, mine shocked, and sad.

“If you do something it’ll only make it worse. I’ll just get beaten ten times worse than the last. He’ll do everything in his power to prove he’s got total control over me, and he’s right.”

I reached over and touched her shoulder. She flinched a bit but I didn’t pull away; her skin was cool to the touch, the heater barely keeping her warm. Anni sighed.

“It’s just how it is, Soda. Leave it be.”

“How can I do that?” I asked, “you don’t deserve it.”

“Because I’m not important, Soda!” She snapped, “if I left today, all of you would stop thinking about me! If I died tomorrow, you’d forget me as soon as you saw the next girl walk by! I’m replaceable! A nobody! Unloved!”

“You aren’t unloved!” I yelled back, “and maybe to your shitty dad you're replaceable, but to me you’re irreplaceable! You’re so fucked up in the head, you don’t even know what love is because they’ve got you all messed up.”

“So?! What do you want me to do about it!”

“Let me show you what it’s like to be loved, Anni.”

She started nibbling on her lip as I got closer to her. She didn’t move away from me though, as I leaned in closer and closer. The air between us almost felt thin, I could hardly breathe. I could see her chest moving up and down fast. Was she nervous? Scared? I couldn’t tell. My forehead pressed against hers.

“I’ll stop if you want,” I whispered, “I’d never do somethin’ to you that you aren’t comfortable with.”

It took her a moment to answer and when she was capable of doing so, it came out as more of a hushed whisper.

“I’m fine,” her voice croaked, “you can continue.”

She was definitely nervous. My words, along with my actions, had her flustered and confused.

Nodding my head, I pressed my lips against hers. Her lips were just as soft as I’d imagined them to be. When I pulled away, it was only for a second, going back into and kissing her deeply once again, this time more passionately. I softly pushed her back, keeping my lips on hers, and crawled between her legs. Her hands reached up and wrapped around my neck, her fingers tangling themselves into my hair. A soft groan left my lips as I felt her fingers tug gently.

I pulled away from her, a small amount of saliva pulling from our lips. Her eyes were hazy with lust and confusion.

“I’ve got you, doll,” I whispered, “I promise.”

She nodded her head. Leaning back down, I attached my lips to her neck and started leaving wet, open mouthed kisses along the nape. Softly sucking and nibbling on her flesh, I felt my cock harden at the sound of her breathy moans. A sound that I wanted to be familiar with forever. I bit down on her neck and she gasped, jolting forward, her chest pressing against mine. Her nipples were still hard. I swirled my tongue around the spot I bit down on before biting down on a different spot, repeating the process.

“Soda,” she whimpered.

It was the first time I’ve heard her sound so vulnerable.

“That’s a good girl,” I praised, returning my attention to her face.

The black eye didn’t bother me, neither did the blood in her eye. She was as beautiful as she always was.

I grabbed the rim of my shirt and pulled it off, revealing my tanned chest. Her eyes lingered a little lower, her teeth biting her bottom lip while she scanned over my body. I chuckled then reached for her shirt. She lifted her arms letting me pull the shirt over her head, revealing her exposed, bruised flesh. I groaned at the mere sight of her breasts. They were perfect; like beautiful clouds. I barely licked one of the hardened nipples and her back arched, eyes rolling to the back of her head. I captured her lips with mine once again, this time kissing her hungrily.

I pulled her off the seat and into my lap, breathing heavily as I started kissing down her neck again, tracing the purple hickeys I had left. My hands fumbled with my zipper first, my cock aching to be released from their restraints. Not bothering to lift her off of me, I lifted myself off the seat a bit and pulled my jeans down. Anni wrapped her arms around me, tugging my hair a bit as she kissed me hard. I grabbed the sweats she was wearing and dragged them down, my hands grazing her bare skin causing her to shiver. I loved watching her shiver after I touched her. It didn’t happen often with Anni, she hardly ever reacted to anyone touching her, so to see, to feel, her shake from my touch sent a rush of pride through me.

Anni lifted herself off of my lap as I pulled her sweats all the way off. She was completely naked in front of me now.

“God damnit, Anni,” I groaned, “so fucking beautiful.”

A soft laugh left her lips as she watched me pull my boxers down finally releasing my growing member. There was no need to wait any longer, no need for foreplay, no need for me to poke and prod to make sure she was okay. We were both ready as if we'd been waiting for years. I lined myself up with her and pushed her down onto me, groaning at the feeling of her tight walls gripping me. Anni buried her head into my shoulder and moaned softly at the feeling of me filling her up. Only a second passed before I started thrusting my hips back and forth, our skin slapping against each other’s. Small pants were leaving her mouth as she gripped my shoulders tightly, keeping herself upright despite being drilled into. Even though I wasn’t going too fast right now, the position allowed me to bury myself deep into her sweet little cunt.

“Holy fuck,” I moaned, “that’s it baby.”

My pace quickened as she started bouncing herself up and down; the truck started to rock a bit at the movement happening inside but we didn’t care. Anni’s moans became more erotic and lewd; she sounded almost angelic and I loved that I was the one making her feel this way. Her head fell back as she continued to ride my cock, meeting each thrust coming from me. I moved my left hand up to the back of her head and pulled her hair a little, just enough to get her to face me. I didn’t want to hurt her. She moaned at the feeling of me pulling her hair.

“Fuck, Anni, you sound so beautiful,” I groaned, pulling her closer by her hair so that our foreheads could meet, “such a beautiful girl for me, huh?”

She could only nod, her body shivering.

“Soda, I’m close,” she whimpered out.

“Let it go, baby,” I moaned, “I’ve got you.”

Those words with the quickening pace of our thrust sent Anni into euphoria. She screamed out, her legs violently shaking as she came all over my cock. I held her in place; one hand gripping her side while the other stayed tangled in her hair. I removed my hand from her back and smacked her perfectly, plump, sweaty ass. She yelped, rocking her hips into mine causing me to groan. Giving her ass a few more smacks, enough to pleasure her, I turned us over so that I was on top of her. My eyes danced across her sweaty body. I started pouring kisses onto her face and mumbling soft “I love you’s” as I continued to thrust into her faster.

“Soda,” she moaned, “I can’t.”

“Shh,” I whispered, holding back a string of curse words, feeling her walls tighten around me, “you can do it baby. Come on.”

I slammed into her repeatedly; removing my cock all the way at the tip and then slamming back into her. Her eyes rolled back as her hips arched. I could feel myself getting closer to my climax as I watched her, feeling her dripping cunt swallow me over and over again.

“Cum one more time for me,” I cooed, “I know you’ve got it in you.”

Anni couldn’t form any more words, all she could do was nod her head and let me coax her with my sweet words. Soon her body spasmed again and her legs shook harshly. Her screams rippled through the air, but I didn’t bother covering her mouth to hide them. I didn’t care if people heard and I didn’t care if that caused people to come over to see what was happening; all I wanted was to be focused on Anni.

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum,” I croaked.

My thrust becoming sloppier, I watched her body go limp as pools of sweat collected on her chest. I thrusted into her three more times before spilling my cum into her fleshy, pink walls. Coating every inch.

“Fuck!” I yelled, “oh my God, fuck!”

I stopped moving, unable to ride out my high for too long. Anni was panting hard. I pulled myself out of her and brought her to my chest. Rubbing soft circles onto her bruised back as she gasped for air.

“I know, baby, I know. I’m right here, just breathe.”

When Anni finally did catch her breath, she rested her head against my bare, sweaty chest. A tired smile appeared on my face as I watched her look up at me.

“My baby did so well,” I praised again.

We stared into each other’s eyes for what felt like a lifetime. Her glistening skin glowed in the moonlight, the cool air chapping her dry lips making her lick them repeatedly, her breast heaving up and down as she took in large amounts of air. Her black hair was not sweaty and clinging to her beautiful face. I reached my hand down and stroked the bruise on her cheek.

“I love you, Anni,” I whispered, “so fuckin’ much. You’ll never be replaceable to me. I only want you.”

Anni chuckled and closed her eyes, she was definitely sleepy.

“I’ll hold you to that, Soda. If you love me, maybe I can let myself love you too. It may take a while but I’ll do it for you.”

Grabbing the blanket that Darry normally kept inside his truck, I draped it over us and sighed. She buried her head into my chest and let her heavy eyes close. The sound of my heart lulling her to sleep.

“No matter how long it takes,” I said, “I’ll wait for you. I’ll help you love again because you deserve it. That and the world.”

The sudden realization of Darry coming out in the morning to see us asleep, naked in his car with the lingering smell of sex, hit me. A low chuckle escaped from my lips. I knew I was gonna hear it in the morning, but right now, I didn’t care. It felt like it was just Anni and I, all alone. That’s what I wanted.

#sodapop curtis smut #sodapop curtis imagine #sodapop curtis #the outsiders #outsiders smut #sodapop imagine #sodapop smut #sodapop x reader #imagines #smut #fluff #the outsiders sodapop #sodapop fanfiction #the outsiders fanfiction #sodapop patrick curtis

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abundanceofnots · 3 years

Text

The door to the darkened alley next to the Alibi Room opens behind him, letting out a jumble of voices and loud music. Mickey expected Ian to find him there sooner or later. That’s why he’s so surprised to see that it’s not his husband pushing the heavy door open with his hip, his hands occupied by holding two glasses of beer, but Tami, his—

Well, whatever they are to each other.

Strangers, mostly. Both holding the title of Gallagher family appendages—the husband and the baby mama—who occasionally shared a laugh over some Gallagher bullshit. But that has always been as far as their relationship went.

“Occupied,” he informs her curtly before he takes another drag of his cigarette.

Tami smiles, undeterred.

“I was actually looking for you,” she explains as she lets the door close behind her, cutting the sounds from the inside to mere thumps again.

“Look, if you’re already tired of your baby daddy’s dick, I can’t say I blame ya, but you’ll have to find someone else because, on principle, I don’t fuck Lip’s sloppy seconds—”

Tami makes a face. “Jesus fuck. Is that really the only reason you can think of why I might want to see you?”

His eyes dart around her head of hair as he tries to look at anywhere but her, suddenly feeling very tense.

“Yeah?”

“Well, fuck you, too. No, here, listen.” She passes him one of the beers. “I saw the way you looked back in there and thought you might wanna talk.”

Mickey’s felt sick all evening. Ever since their big announcement when Ian threw his arm around Mickey’s shoulders, squeezed him tight, and gave him that blinding grin before he told everyone the good news.

There was clapping and noise, so much fucking noise. People were reaching out their hands to tap him on the shoulder or shake his hand, and it made Mickey feel like those hands were all grasping his throat while his blood was pumping in his ears.

His plan was to spend the rest of the party here, where he could breathe again, chain-smoking his way through the ordeal. He thinks he’ll be sick if he drinks anything right now, but he takes the glass from Tami anyway.

“About?” he shoots back noncommittally.

“Why you’re scared.”

On instinct, Mickey scoffs out a laugh. “Fuck off, I ain’t scared.”

“Right,” Tami replies, giving him a pointed look over the rim of her glass as she takes a sip. “That why you’re hiding out here during your own party?”

“Just needed to—” Groaning in exasperation, Mickey pinches the bridge of his nose and composes himself. “I just needed a second away from everyone congratulatin’ me. Or callin’ me daddy Milkovich. Or fuckin’ Kermit asking if I was gonna be the mom or the dad—” He cuts himself off again, measuring Tami with a hard stare. “What’s it to you, anyway?

She responds with a sincere smile.

“Believe it or not, I was scared of having a baby, too.”

Mickey’s brows furrow in confusion. “That why you decided to have another?”

“Doesn’t mean I’m not scared anymore.”

“Sounds fuckin’ stupid.”

“Maybe,” Tami admits with half a shrug.

They spend the next few minutes in silence, Tami drinking her beer and Mickey finishing his smoke, his own beer left untouched.

“But you’re a chick, you know, so it’s different,” Mickey states resolutely after he lights another cigarette, confident he’s found an argument she couldn’t dispute. “You have, like, all those motherly instincts and shit. I don’t.”

For some reason, she snorts and shakes her head. Then, her expression softens again, and she says, “I have it on good authority that there’s one little boy who basically worships the ground you walk on.”

“He’s five. Fuck does he know,” he retorts back derisively, immediately chastising himself because Freddie knew a lot, in fact. Most importantly, how to get underneath Mickey’s skin.

Not that he didn’t love and pester Ian just as much, obviously. Everyone loved Ian, the charming motherfucker. But Mickey and the kid had a special bond, much to Lip’s irritation.

Freddie was one of the main reasons Mickey decided that he was ready to have kids all those months ago. He isn’t so sure of it now, though.

He takes another drag and lets the smoke out through his nose.

“I never thought I’d be this,” he explains ambiguously, not just meaning being a guy who gives enough shit to smoke outside a bar. “Always knew how to survive. I was good at that. I was gonna see forty, most of it behind bars, maybe fifty, if I was lucky enough and didn’t lose a fuckin’ limb at some shitty construction job. And then, one day, I wake up to a tire iron to my spine—”

“If that’s a metaphor, I don’t follow.”

“—and next thing I know, I have a whole ass husband, a fuckin’ condo on the West Side like some yuppie, and I catch myself sayin’ things like, fuck it, let’s have a kid. What’s wrong with me? I can’t fuckin’ do this, can I?”

The truth he’ll never admit to anyone, probably, is that Tami’s right. He is scared. Fucking terrified, really. Because there’s a kid who will have him for a dad, and Mickey feels sorry for it.

The poor bastard isn’t even a proper baby yet. It’s just a sonogram stuck to their fridge. A baby-like matter that Ian’s app insists is the size of cauliflower now. When Mickey finally managed to spot one in Whole Foods, he found himself apologizing to it for some bizarre reason.

He doesn’t want to be like his dad. He wants to do this right, but he doesn’t know if he knows how.

“The most important thing?” Tami breaks the silence then, reading Mickey’s reaction correctly even when he doesn’t say anything. “You don’t bail on this kid. Or Ian, because he’ll need you to be there just as much.”

Mickey bites his cheek and nods. There’s a chance he’d say more, ask Tami for advice even, maybe, if, at that very second, Ian didn’t come out to join them, bursting out of the alleyway door as if summoned.

“There’s the pops-to-be!” he cheers a little too loudly with a smile that splits his whole face. He stumbles forward on clumsy feet and envelops Mickey tightly in his arms. “I was looking for you.”

“Fuckin’ octopus-man,” Mickey laughs, careful not to let the drunk idiot spill his beer. “How much did you have to drink?”

“Just a couple beers,” Ian answers as he nuzzles into Mickey’s neck.

“Such a fuckin’ lightweight.”

Humming his agreement, Ian snags Mickey’s glass and knocks down most of its contents in one go. He belches before saying in a low voice, “I was planning on dragging your ass to the bathroom later and having my way with you, but since we’re already here, alone...”

He already has his free hand palming at Mickey’s dick over his jeans when Tami makes a sound behind him, something between a snort and a cough.

Ian’s eyes take a minute to properly zero in on her.

“Tami! Hey!” he greets her with exaggerated excitement. “You’re here, too. Why are you here, too? Something wrong?”

Tami looks pointedly at Mickey. “Wanna tell him, or should I?”

He seriously considers being honest for a second, but his next words are out before he can stop them.

“Your brother’s girlfriend was tryna jump me.”

Tami almost chokes on the incredulous huff of laughter she lets out. She finishes her beer and shakes her head, staring Mickey down.

“You’re such a fucking asshole, Mickey, I swear to God. Forget I ever said anything,” she barks at him as she goes for the door.

“Hey, Tami,” Mickey stops her last minute. “Thanks, or whatever.”

Tami rolls her eyes. Still, just before she slips back inside, she throws a quick smile over her shoulder.

“Did you just thank her for trying to fuck you?” Ian inquires stupidly when the door closes behind her.

“Sure,” Mickey sounds off without further explanation.

He turns back to his husband and lightly pats his cheek, letting his hand slide all the way down to his junk in hopes of pointing his attention in the right direction again. “So, about those plans you had—“

But all of a sudden, Ian’s white as a sheet, giving him a look of absolute horror.

“What?” Mickey asks, mirroring his look.

“Think I’m gonna puke.”

“’ Course you are,” Mickey has enough time to groan before Ian bends in half and proceeds to throw up on the sidewalk.

Mickey takes a few steps away, trying to give Ian some privacy, but he’s stopped by a hand clutching his wrist and pulling him back.

“I’m so sorry, Mick,” Ian says in between spits as his hand slides down to hold Mickey’s awkwardly.

“Hey, that’s okay,” Mickey tells him gently—just as gently as he strokes his back in big circles. “I’m here.”

#just 1.5k words with some post-canon much needed convo #that wouldn't leave my mind alone #my fics #shameless fanfiction #shameless fic

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arrowflier · 3 years

Note

I wish you would write a fic where the gallaghers + kev & vee find out about ian's 87% comment and they all give their opinions and ask why mickey, ian's husband who's been a part of ian's life for nearly eleven years only gets 87% of his heart, if the other 13% goes towards his toxic exes and why since they're not in his life anymore, ian explaining himself and ends with ian taking the comment back so mickey has 100% of his heart

I decided this was perfect for Gallavich Week Day 5: Fix-It! Thanks as always to @gallavichthings for hosting💖. Also on AO3.

Eighty-Seven Percent (Anatomy of a Heart)

It was a normal morning in the Gallagher kitchen.

That is to say, it was chaotic.

Carl and Liam sat across from each other at the narrow table, tossing dry loops of off-brand cereal at each other over Franny’s backpack, which lay open between them. The girl herself was running circles around them both in her pajamas, Debbie chasing after her with a stern face and a frilly dress held in outstretched hands.

“Come on, Franny,” she muttered impatiently as her daughter evaded her again by diving under the table, “just put on the dress!”

Mickey laughed when Franny ran to him instead, trying to hide behind his legs where he stood by the brewing coffeemaker. Ian ruined her attempt by swinging her up into his arms and twirling her around until Debbie snatched her from him, resulting in an angry shriek as Franny writhed in her hold.

“For fuck’s sake, keep it down in here!” Lip hissed, coming in from the living room where Tami had just gotten Fred settled in his play pen. “If you get Fred crying again, I swear I’ll fucking end you all.”

If anything, the kitchen got louder as everyone there chimed in in their own defense.

Mickey just snorted as he grabbed two mugs and got to pouring the fresh coffee. “Good luck with that,” he offered to Lip, amused. “You get one Gallagher going, you get the whole fucking pack.”

Lip glared at him, opened his mouth the say something undoubtedly scathing and most likely regarding Mickey’s place in the family, when Carl laughed and chimed in from the table.

“Funny, man, that’s what Trevor said to me and Ian at the station yesterday.”

The room went quiet.

Or maybe it just seemed that way to Ian, who could see the way his husband’s back immediately tensed at the familiar name, the way he gripped the handle of his mug a little too tight and poured the coffee a little too high before setting down the pot with a hard clack.

“Trevor, huh?” Mickey asked, voice deceptively mild, and Ian winced behind him.

Carl didn’t get the memo.

“Yeah, you remember him, right?” he checked. “He still works at that youth place, came in to post bail for some kid when Ian was bringing by lunch.” He shrugged, tossed a handful of cereal into his mouth. “We chatted a bit,” he mumbled as he chewed.

Mickey gripped the edge of the counter, knuckles going white under his tattoos. “Funny,” he said quietly, “Ian didn’t think to mention that.”

Ian sighed, ignoring the eyes of his family on their quickly unfolding drama. They’d been fighting a lot lately, a lot more than they used to, and today had been shaping up to be better, damn it. Now he had to do damage control again instead of enjoying a quiet day in with his husband.

“We’ve talked about this, Mickey,” he started, a tad bit exasperated. It must have come through in his voice, because Mickey’s shoulders went up. “Trevor’s not a bad guy, and I’m not gonna avoid him if I see him around.”

Mickey released the counter to grab his coffee again, taking a long, scalding swallow. “Right,” he said finally, not looking at Ian. “Not a bad guy at all. Just wanted to leave your ass rotting in jail when you couldn’t be his poster boy anymore, that’s all.”

“Mickey…” Ian warned, but it didn’t stop him.

“Tell me, Ian,” Mickey mused, turning to face him with hard eyes. “How much of that thirteen percent belongs to him?”

Fuck. Not that again.

“Wait, what’s he talking about?” Debbie was the one to ask first, voice cutting through their palpable tension. She’d even stopped trying to force the dress over Franny’s head in the interim, allowing the girl to escape up the stairs unscathed. “What thirteen percent?”

“Oh yeah, he told me about that,” Lip butted in. “Said Mickey got all bent out of shape cause Ian still thinks about his exes, or something, right?”

Ian closed his eyes against the hurt in Mickey’s as his brother revealed that he knew about their squabble. Fuck his family right now, seriously.

“Not quite,” he gritted out, but when he opened his eyes again, Mickey had schooled his face back into disinterest.

“No, that’s just about it,” Mickey confirmed. “Got my nose out of joint because Ian, here,” he gestured at Ian with his mug, ignoring the hot coffee that splashed over the side, “said I only got eighty-seven percent of his heart.”

Someone whistled, low and long. Ian couldn’t tell who.

“It’s not that big a deal,” he insisted yet again. “My whole life is a fucking shrine to you, Mick. If my heart was a room, there’s be posters of you on every fucking wall.” He took a step closer, until Mickey’s mug pressed into his own chest, leaving a wet spot on his shirt.

“You really can’t let the others have a little space in that room? Not even in the bottom drawer of a dresser that nobody uses anyway?”

Mickey was still, and silent. Then he spun around and slammed his mug back down on the counter, shoved past Ian, and stormed off up the stairs.

“Where are you going?” Ian called after him.

“To clean out the goddamn drawers!”

It was quiet in Mickey’s wake, and then—

“Dude, that’s fucked up,” Carl said frankly, and Liam nodded in agreement, eyes wide.

“Did you really say that?” Debbie asked, sounding horrified, and before Ian could answer the back door slammed open.

“Morning neighbors!” Vee greeted as she came through, Kev on her heels. She was holding something, a dish covered in foil, and a carton of juice hung from Kev’s hand.

“We brought you guys some…” Vee trailed off when no one even looked at her, noticing the tension in the room.

“Uh,” she voiced, confused, “what did we miss?”

Carl answered, still looking at Ian in disbelief. “Ian told Mickey he keeps stuff from his exes in a drawer, so Mickey’s up there looking for it.”

“Oh, that’s cold man,” Kev breathed, and Ian exhaled.

“It was a metaphor,” he muttered, and Vee heard him.

“A metaphor for what?” she asked, curious.

“For the thirteen percent of Ian’s heart that belongs to other people,” Debbie revealed, and Vee set down her dish with a clatter.

“You said that to him?” she clarified, and at Ian’s reluctant nod, shook her head and turned to Kev.

“You ever say shit like that to me,” she said firmly, “I’ll cut off thirteen percent of your dick.”

—

A few long minutes later, after he had finally escaped his family’s inquisition about the state of his relationship, Ian made his way upstairs, alone.

When he got to their bedroom, Mickey wasn’t actually going through their things. He was just sitting on their bed, back to the wall, spinning his wedding ring round and round on his finger. Next to him, balanced on their folded blanket, sat the little box with the fancy ones they used in the ceremony just so they wouldn’t have to take theirs off.

Ian’s heart beat harder. That box had been sitting safe in the bottom drawer of their shared dresser.

The one that nobody used.

“Hey,” he said softly from the doorway. Mickey didn’t look up.

“You okay?” Ian asked, and that at least got a response.

“Do I look fucking okay to you?” Mickey returned, eyes on his knees.

He didn’t. Not really. He looked haggard, and upset, his hair spiky where restless fingers had combed through it. Ian couldn’t see his eyes, but he had a feeling they were rimmed in red.

Ian let himself into the room, sat opposite Mickey on the bed with his feet still firmly on the floor. He reached out to trace a finger over the rings in the box, and then the ring on Mickey’s finger.

Mickey let his own hand fall away when he did.

“You know that’s not how I meant it, right?” Ian asked, suddenly desperate to hear Mickey agree. He needed to know that Mickey understood, that just because he remembered his past, it didn’t mean he wasn’t dedicated to his future.

But Mickey just shrugged.

“Not a lot of ways you can mean it,” he said, and shit. Ian had really fucked up this time. “Either I have your whole heart or I don’t,” Mickey continued, “and I don’t. So,” he shrugged again, “whatever.”

Ian took a moment. A long one. He thought of Mickey’s reaction the first time he had said it, when he was mostly just teasing. The way he had been shocked to think that Ian still had fond thoughts for other men. And he thought of his family downstairs, each one more fucked up than the last, all in agreement over the severity of his error.

And to be honest, he still didn’t quite get the uproar. But maybe that was because none of them got his side, either.

“You’re right,” he began, “you don’t.”

Mickey tensed further, pulling away from him on the bed, but Ian wasn’t done.

“You have all the good bits, you know,” he continued. He went to rest a hand on Mickey’s chest, saw his stiffness, and pointed at his own instead.

“You have all four chambers,” he told him. “Atrium and ventricle. You keep my blood moving, keep it useful, keep me alive. And you have my valves,” he added, trailing a finger side to side to point to the right spots as he spoke. “Mitral and aorta, pulmonary and tricuspid.” He smiled. “You keep me going in the right direction.”

Mickey was softening, he could tell, the tension seeping from his limbs as Ian droned on. He kept going anyway.

“You have all my arteries, Mick,” he whispered. “You’re in all my veins. You said I was under your skin, once?” Ian laughed. “Well you’re under my skin, too. And in my muscles, and in my blood.”

“And the others, they’re like…” he hesitated, searched for the right words. Better words than he had used before. “They’re like cholesterol,” he settled on, “plaque. Or…like the scar tissue from a triple bypass, the parts that don’t work anymore.”

Mickey’s lips quirked, despite himself, and Ian counted it as a victory.

“You have a lot a heart surgeries, Gallagher?” he questioned softly, catching on.

Ian smile widened, and he reached out to take Mickey’s hand. This time, Mickey didn’t pull away.

“Maybe a few,” he admitted. “And maybe I’m better for it.”

He lifted Mickey’s hand to his lips, held it there.

“I don’t mind the broken bits,” he told his husband. “The pieces they left behind. Because you pushed through them every time, and made me healthy again.”

Mickey fidgeted, and nudged himself off the wall to settle closer to Ian’s side.

“Alright,” he allowed, “I get it.”

“Do you?” Ian asked earnestly. “Because I want you to, you know.” He dropped Mickey’s hand to hold his face instead, gently stroking a thumb over his cheek. “I want you to know that that thirteen percent, it doesn’t really matter. All that matters are the parts that are you.”

"I chose you, Mickey," he murmured. He reached out blindly for the spare rings in their box on the bed, worked one free. Slipped it onto Mickey's finger without looking away from his eyes. Mickey's hand clenched around it, around Ian's hand, and held tight.

"I married you," Ian added. "Because I love you with every real part of my heart, every little bit that works."

“All eighty-seven percent?” Mickey prods with a soft expression, leaning forward until his nose brushes Ian’s.

“All eighty-seven percent,” Ian confirmed, and kissed him.

#daily speedwrite #gw2021 #fanfic #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #gallavich #fix-it #gallagher family #albeit briefly

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georgiapeach30513 · 2 years

Note

Hi Jen! Can I send a what-if request? What if Aster and Beck met during her partying days and he was Ellie’s bio dad?

Here's the thing...Ellie is a product of Aster and Mickey. So we wouldn't be getting an Ellie, but an Elio. However, life for Aster would be vastly different. Aster and Beck are meant to be. So even if she was involved Mickey, things would change quickly with the meeting of Beck. Those two LOVE each other fully. Beck brings out the best parts of Aster. After meeting him, we see her walls fall down. And not only that but how she is at home. Who would have thought that Aster would have allowed a cat in her house. And that's not the only pets they get...

🖤🖤🖤🖤

Azzie Got a Moon Man

Summary: what if Aster met Beck when she was partying?

Pairings: Aster X Beck

Rating: mild

Warnings: implied jumping on the bed, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 1.6K

Desperate Lives AU Masterlist

What If...? Masterlist

Aster dances around, giving the DJ a long look. The two of them continuing to eye one another throughout the night. She knows he’s nothing but trouble, but she hates ending the night alone. Can’t stand the thought of going back to her family home, trying to drag herself in and pretend to not be drunk.

She knows her dad knows. He always does. Always waits up for her, with her mom passed out on him, while a movie plays. “You know you can always call us,” he sees every time.

“Uber is a wonderful thing.”

“Azzie,” she turns her nearly identical eyes to her father, while he pets on his wife’s arm. “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”

She never responds. Just goes up to her room. But here in this club, she has a moment of freedom. Just her and the music, and the hot DJ, who does not care where he fucks her.

Needing a quick refreshment she walks to the bar asking for a whiskey sour. Her body still bouncing to the music when a stranger catches her eye. “Put it on my tab,” he answers.

“It takes more than that to get a girl like me,” she gives the stranger with kind eyes a smile.

“That’s what I was hoping.”

That was all it took for her eyes to abandon Mickey. The strange man that couldn’t quit smiling at her in such a sweet way. The one that kept getting his chair closer, until he’s pulling her out of that club to go to his house. Her lips always wanting to attach to his, but he holds her steady. All up until the point she passes out.

With a smirk at her lifeless body he carries her to the bed. Tucking her in, he goes to walk away for the night. Placing a bucket beside her bed, in case she gets sick before going to sleep on his couch.

Aster wakes the following morning confused as to where she is and even worse how she got there. With a look around the room she begins to get up only to sit back down with a groan. “I was wondering when you were going to wake up, sleeping beauty.”

“Who are you?” Aster asks looking around. “Did we uh, I mean…oh god.”

“I’m Chris Beck, but everyone calls me Beck. And no, nothing happened. I slept on the couch because you couldn’t even walk into my house. How’re feeling?”

“Death. I feel like death. What the shit?”

Beck gives a little giggle looking over the woman.

“How did you get to the club?”

“Friends. Glad you’re not a serial killer. I have such wonderful friends,” she rolls her eyes, but gasps. “Oh no no no,” grabbing up her phone she goes through the hundreds of texts and calls from Owin. A few demanding that her tight ass tells him she’s alive immediately. “Sorry, I need to make a phone call. The one good friend.”

Before she can call, they hear a loud booming knock on the door, “Aster Sapphire Drysdale, you open this door right now. I swear if you’ve hurt her, I am a big man. And uh, that’s my girlfriend.”

“You’re not my boyfriend,” Aster responds opening the door. Owin leans under the doorframe and takes a look around before spotting Beck. “And you full named me Owin Apollo.”

“Hi, I’m Owin, this is my girlfriend and I’m taking her home.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“I am. I’m glad you had your fun. Now I’m taking my girlfriend and you stay away from her.”

Aster cocks her hip to the side, arms crossed over her chest as she glares at him, “I’ll carry you out of here.”

“Beck this is Owin, my friend. Owin this is Beck. The man that brought me from the club and let me sleep on his bed, while he slept on the couch.”

“You slept on the couch?” Beck gives a nod looking up at the giant. “You didn’t touch my girl?”

“I’m confused,” Beck looks between the two friends. “I don’t want to come in between you two.”

“She’s not really my girlfriend. She’s my bestie. I’m not a fighter, but I would be for her. So nothing happened?” Beck shakes his head no. “Well, exchange numbers and you can do this in the daylight, not inebriated. Take her on a date. Get to know her. Keep her out of the club and away from that DJ, that would be great. It’s nice to meet you Beck. But I have a Mrs. D who told me I have to get this beautiful woman with the great legs home in one piece so I appreciate you for not cutting her up.”

_______________________________________

Aster looks down at her exposed chest in Beck’s mirror. Giving them a little squeeze before turning to the side. “Do I look like I’ve gained weight to you?”

“Nope,” Beck responds getting out of the shower. “I’m not an idiot, I’m not answering that. You look gorgeous.”

“First off, Christopher, I asked if I gained weight, not if I was pretty. Secondly,” she turns to the side, her hand rubs over her belly slowly, before she gets a panicked look in her eyes. “Oh shit.”

“What, Starlight.”

Grabbing up her phone she goes to her period app, “Nononono, the doctor said it was highly unlikely.”

“What?”

“I’m four weeks late.”

“Your phone tell you that?”

“Yes. Oh no. This is bad. This is…”

“Why is it bad?” his arms snake around her waist, lips kissing along her shoulders. “The bigger question is why do you always stare at yourself wearing nothing but panties?”

“Didn’t want a big ordeal for when you got out of the shower. I contemplate every time just staying naked. But I’m four weeks late.”

“Then we get a test.”

“We just met, oh gee, eight weeks ago.”

“I guess it’s time for me to meet the mysterious Drysdale’s that live down the creepy ass road that you can’t go down unless you have access,” Aster gives him a pout. “What?”

“We’ve been drinking.”

“You didn’t know pregnancy was an option.”

“This wasn’t supposed to happen. We’re just good sex.”

“Is that all? There’s times we don’t even go out? Times we stay in, and I see how long I can make you cum on my mouth before you’re pushing me away. We never make it through a movie.”

“But a baby…that’s different. We barely know each other. We can’t do this,” Aster presses her forehead up against his chest and he wraps his arms around her tight.

“We can if you want to. You said you wanted kids but were told you couldn’t have any, so you accepted it. Why don’t we start with a test.”

“I don’t even know what you do.”

“I’m an astronaut.”

“Oh bull shit. That’s what guys say at a bar to impress a girl. What do you do?” he guides her into his office. Pictures of him working at NASA and even him on the moon. “So you’re an astronaut.”

“And we’re going to get a test.”

________________________________________

Beck stares at the woman he barely knew, and now can’t get enough of, in her arms a peacefully sleeping son, that she still hasn’t let him hold. Her eyes almost always on that little baby boy. Slow tears constantly flowing out of her eyes. “Thank you.”

“Why, Starlight?”

“You gave me something I never knew I wanted. I’m not a baby person, but he’s perfect. I want you to hold him, but I can’t let him go yet.”

He leans over planting a lingering kiss to her temple. “Elio Oliver Beck, you tell your mama that she can hold you as long as she needs. It can’t be easy to have had you inside of her for nine months, and now she thinks I have the right to steal you.”

“He’s yours, too.”

“You look beautiful holding him though. And eventually you’ll fall asleep. I’m gonna grab some coffee.”

“Ooh, iced americano, two stevias,” with that request he knows he’s going to have to drive to the cafe and grab Aster her favorite drink, but he also knows that Joshua and Owin are on their way. “If you need anything else.”

“I’m good, Moonbeam.”

Aster continues staring at her son, her fingers rubbing along his soft skin when her two friends walk in the room. Neither saying anything just watching her. Aster is rarely soft. Not this soft, and she never stays this soft for long. “Can I hold him?” Owin asks.

“No. Next person to hold him is Beck. I just can’t let him go,” Joshua gives her a soft kiss to her cheek before looking into her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” he asks her with a grin.

“I wanna marry him,” her lip trembles when she looks at her friend. The one she made a pact that they would get married if they weren’t already by the time she turned thirty-five.

“Azzie are you happy?” he asks her with so much sincerity.

“I’m so happy Joshie. We were supposed to be fooling around. But he’s perfect.”

“I’m just glad it wasn’t that fucking DJ,” Owin groans. “I’d prefer Joshie over that.”

“Mickey wasn’t so bad.”

“He’s an ass. He probably wouldn’t have made it to Elio’s birth.”

“Well,” Joshua says trying to get the two to quit bickering. “At least now we don’t have to find out. Azzie got her a moon man.”

Masterlist

#desperate lives #desperate lives au #desperate verse #da au #da au request #da au what if #da au what it?#aster drysdale #chris beck #aster drysdale x chris beck #elio oliver beck

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wehangout · 3 years

Text

Day 9

Begging

@gallavichthings

Ian’s in that good spot – a little bit drunk, a little bit high, a whole lot post-orgasm blissed out. He’s nothing but content and even though you’re a little bit drunk, a little bit high, and a whole lot post-orgasm blissed out, that alone makes you content.

His fingers spread across your bare thigh and you press the backs of your own fingers into whatever of his skin you can find without opening your eyes. He sighs, relaxed, happy, peaceful. And then …

“Been thinking …”

Fuck.

Ian likes to say shit when he’s in that good spot – shit like want you to top me next time and gonna lick my come out of your ass one day and think I can get my whole fist up there? Or shit like wish you’d kiss me and I’m sorry I freaked out and we should get a baby. Shit you’re never ready to hear, whether it’s because it’s shit you’ve never considered before, or shit you’re simply not emotionally prepared for.

Either way, Ian likes to say shit and it’s a toss of the coin what kind of punch in the gut you’ll get each time.

“Thinkin’ about what, Gallagher?”

He turns his head to look at you, puppy-dog eyes in full force. “I wanna try licking your ass again.”

Jesus fuck.

It takes effort, but you lift an arm to wipe your hand over your face and groan. “This again?”

“Look, I’ve been doing some research –”

“Research?” You move your hand so you can look at him. “You mean watching porn?”

He grins. “Yeah.”

“Christ, Ian.”

“Please, Mick, just … let me try again, that’s all I’m asking.”

You stare at him, long and hard, and guilt floods you. It had taken a while, years even, before you told him the truth. It wasn’t that you didn’t like having your ass eaten, it was that Ian … shit, Ian just wasn’t that good at it. Which still fucks you up a little because he reigns fucking supreme over everything else you do together, but when he gets his tongue in your ass …

It’s just not good.

So, you told him. And he stopped bringing it up. For a bit.

“Please?” he tries again. He presses close to you, noses along your jaw. “I’ve been reading up on it and I watched a shit-load of porn and I know what I’m doin’ now.”

You lift your head to give him better access to your neck. “You know what you’re doin, huh?”

“Give me a chance. I swear I’ll make it so good for you. Please, baby.”

Baby.

It doesn’t come out often, but when it does … fuck.

“Please, Mickey.” He’s hard against your hip, rocking into you, and while the idea of him licking your ass doesn’t set you on fire, his eagerness, the way he’s fucking pleading with you, sure as shit does. “Let’s shower, you can fuck my face until you’re close, and then give me another chance, yeah? What d’you say?”

You pull your face back far enough to see him; ruddy cheeks, blown pupils, wet lips. Fuck. You nod.

“Yeah, okay, Gallagher. One more chance.” His eyes light up and you hold up a hand to stop his next words. “On one condition.”

“Yeah, course, anything.”

“I get to do it to you first.”

He smiles, that confused, what-the-actual-fuck smile, and you fight back the pure satisfaction at having shocked him.

“What?”

You shrug. “What? You think just because you’re a top you can’t have your ass licked? We both know you like having it played with –”

“Yeah, but …”

“But?”

“You really wanna?” He sounds quietly hopeful, and you roll onto your side to face him.

“Has anyone done it? Ever?”

He shakes his head and you’re not surprised. Ian Gold-Star-Top Gallagher wouldn’t get his ass eaten by a random hook-up, or from the assholes who took advantage of him before you found him at the club. When he did willingly – willingly? – bottom for his ex, you doubt very fucking much there was a whole lot of prep or fun in it for Ian.

You smirk. “Maybe that’s why you’re no good at it. No one’s ever shown you how fucking amazing it can be.”

“As opposed to you, who fucked around with some Tongue-God in Mexico.”

You decide it’s time to go back to the original subject. “You really wanna try again?”

“Fuck yeah.”

“Then that’s my decision. What do you say?”

He grins. “Fuck yeah.”

#ian and mickey #gallavich #gallavich fic #gallavich kinktober 2021 #shameless fic #my fic #begging #more like #negotiating #whatever

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chudleycanonficfest · 3 years

Text

Air

Our first story on Day 1 comes to you by @zurisenchantedquill !

Title: Air Author/Artist: zurimadison Pairing: Romione, side Hinny Prompt: Rock Concert Rating: Teen, borderline Mature? Trigger Warning(s) (if any): bit of snogging :)

Full disclosure, I was inspired by the song "Stay Next to Me" by Quinn XCII and Chelsea Cutler

______

Ron

“You have ten minutes,” Ginny says, smacking her gum as she stares at me. “Harry will be here soon.”

I don’t move from my seat on the couch. “So let me get this straight, not only are you forcing me into going to this concert tonight, but you also invited your boyfriend to my flat?”

“You like Harry.” She checks her phone. “Nine minutes.”

I do like Harry, but I’m not going to admit that to her right now. I try a change of tactics. “I had plans tonight, Gin. You can’t just show up unannounced and expect me to drop everything to go out with you.”

“Laundry is not a plan, Ron,” she says, texting furiously as she plops on the other end of the couch. “Mum says I need to get you out of the house because you’ve been moping since your breakup, and I knew that if I gave you warning, you’d find an excuse to bail.”

I can’t help but wince, reminded of both the recent end to my relationship and the correct assumption that I’m hiding away because of it. “I just need some me-time right now.”

She looks at me, cheek lit by her phone screen, and smirks. “Eight minutes.”

Whoever said Weasleys are pushovers has never met my little sister.

Actually, probably no one has ever said that.

I sigh and stand, making my way to my bedroom to change.

“Comb your hair or something, while you’re at it,” she calls. “You look a mess.”

“Thanks Gin,” I yell back, but then I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Sheesh, she wasn’t kidding.

Seven minutes later, dressed and groomed enough to be presentable, I set off down the road with my sister and her boyfriend.

“Go on then, who are we seeing tonight?”

“The Black Keys,” Harry answers, grinning. “I’ve been dying to see them for ages.”

I’ve never heard of them before, so I ask, “what kind of music is that? Rock?”

“Technically, more Indie Rock,” Ginny answers, and I can’t stop the small snort that escapes me. She shoots a glare that very clearly warns me not to take the mickey, so I hold my arms up defensively and clear my throat.

“Oh, sounds...erm, fun.” It’s lame, but Harry nods and starts rambling about his favorite songs. For all my trouble, Ginny graces me with an approving quirk of her eyebrow. Thanks Sis.

The venue is close to my flat, so it isn’t long before we’re through the doors, pushing our way into the crowd.

It feels like even less time before Ginny is snogging Harry, their bodies swaying in time to the music as her drink slops unnoticed on their shoes. They break apart every now and then to sing a lyric or two, then they’re right back at it.

I try to ignore it as I down my beer, but the venue is so congested that I’m constantly jostled into them. Not that they even seem to notice, mind you, but as much as I don’t care what Ginny does on her own time, it’s another thing entirely to literally have it shoved into my face.

My bottle is devastatingly empty, so I mutter an excuse and snake away through the crowd, not finding it at all dispersed as I move further from the stage. I spot a bar in the back corner and fight my way over to it, feeling like a hero returning home after battle when I’m able to place my order with the bartender.

It happens as I’m waiting for my beer. I glance down the length of the bar, more out of idleness than anything else, and I see her.

She’s got dark curly hair that’s highlighted with honey, a red strapless dress that could bring a man to his knees, and, unless I’m much mistaken, she’s holding a book in one of her hands as she leans across the bar to be heard above the music.

I am struck with the impulse to know the color of her eyes.

She seems to be alone, and is the only person in the venue actually sitting on a stool. I’m not altogether surprised when, after receiving her drink, she opens her book. She’s so absorbed in her reading that she doesn't notice the people bustling around her. She doesn’t even look up when the bartender hands a drink to someone over her head.

It takes me two more beers, alone in the corner, watching this woman who has such impressive focus, before I work up my nerve. There’s a small opening in the crowd, so I decide it's now or never and throw myself through it. I slip to her side and deliver the almighty line that I’d been working on for nearly twenty minutes.

“Whatcha reading?”

I honestly expect her to ignore me or maybe genuinely not hear me, but to my surprise, she looks right at me.

Brown. Her eyes are chestnut brown, with a dark ring around the outside. They appraise me before the corners of her round lips turn upwards almost imperceptibly. “Treasure Island.” She has to shout to be heard above the music.

“No way,” I exclaim, bemused. “That’s one of the few books I’ve actually read! Isn’t it crazy that Ben had the treasure the whole time?”

“He what?” Her eyes go wide as she gazes at me, slack jawed. “Seriously?”

“Wait, you didn’t know?” I ask, clapping a hand over my mouth. “I’m so sorry, I thought-”

“Just kidding,” she interrupts me, then begins to giggle at what I can only assume is my idiotic expression. “I’ve read this a million times.”

Her laugh is infectious, and I silently swear to make her do as much of it as I can. I lean against my forearm on the bar and turn sideways so I can view her better. Something about the way she’s looking up at me makes me feel brave. “What’s your name?”

“Hermione.”

“Ron.” I extend my hand. She slips her tiny palm into mine. I shake it, but then I don’t let go.

A drunk patron knocks into me, pushing me closer to her. I can almost see down her dress, I’m standing so close. “It’s too crowded in here,” she shouts as she glances over her shoulder. “So many random bodies pressed together.”

“We should go somewhere.” I’m not sure what’s gotten into me, but I don’t mind it when she rewards me with a tiny smile.

“Where? Outside?”

“I don’t care,” I say. “Your choice. I’ll follow you.”

She surveys me, looking as though she’s deciding. “Aren’t you going to miss the show?”

“No,” I laugh. “I don’t know this band at all.”

“Me neither,” she admits. She’s nearly knocked off her stool by a surge of the crowd around us, and this seems to seal the deal. “Ok, let’s go.” She stands and winds through the crowd, never releasing my hand.

_____

Hermione

I lead my tall, red headed stranger to the back patio, feeling instant relief in the cool night air as we step over the threshold. The music is much less loud out here, and it’s not as crowded. I drop his hand as I perch myself on the patio railing, sighing in contentment as my overstimulated senses are satisfied by the calming change in environment.

Ron flags a server for us, so I take the opportunity to examine him while he orders. He’s broad in the shoulders but narrow in the hips, though the shape is flattering in the way his t-shirt pulls across his chest. From underneath the material on his left arm, a full sleeve of tattoos runs enticingly to his wrist, leaving me with a burning desire to see the obscured designs.

Tattooed and bearded. Just how I like 'em.

The server leaves and he turns his gaze back to me, reminding me of the thing so far that I like the most about him.

His eyes.

They’re almost turquoise-y blue, and seem to ripple like water. That alone would be sexy enough, but there’s something about the way they make me feel. They’re...kind.

He leans his back against the railing where I’m sitting, close enough that my leg is brushing his arm. “So, did you come to this show tonight because you like a little background music while you read?”

I laugh. “No, my friends dragged me here with them, but I lost track of them pretty much the moment we arrived. Hence, this.” I hold up my book. “What about you? You said you don’t know the band either.”

“Nah,” he agrees. “I was also forced to come out tonight. But, I don’t fancy watching my sister snog her boyfriend all evening so…” He shrugs. His hair moves gently in the night breeze.

“Well look at us,” I say. “A couple of third wheels.”

The server comes back with the drinks: two shots of whiskey and two beers. I thank him as I take mine, and Ron raises his shot glass.

“Left your boyfriend at home, then?” He’s holding the whiskey expectantly, smirking while he waits for my answer.

I roll my eyes. “Very subtle.”

“Oh, you saw what I did there?”

“I did, believe it or not.” I hold my whiskey out as well. “To being single?”

It’s phrased as a question, and there’s a triumphant sparkle in his eye as he clicks his glass against mine. “To being single.”

“Cheers.” We throw back the shot. The alcohol hums just under my skin.

Ron doesn’t return to his previous position, but instead stands in front of me so that his stomach is against my knees. He places his free hand on the outside of my bare thigh, sending tingles down my spine. He meets my eye for a moment, as though asking if I mind, and in response I lean forward and place my free hand on his chest.

The full, lopsided smile I receive in return is worth it.

“What do you do for a living, Hermione?” His voice is gravelly now.

“I’m in microbiology,” I answer. “I work in a lab.”

“Wow,” he lets out a low whistle. “Smart and beautiful.”

I laugh again. “What about you?”

“I’m a nurse,” he says, puffing out his chest. “I work in the ICU.”

Somehow I understand the kindness in his eyes even more. I’m so distracted by looking into them that I accidentally spill some beer all over my lap. “Oh no, I’m sorry!”

“Watch yourself,” he says, laughing as he grabs a napkin and dabs off my legs. “Why is your drink so full anyway?”

“Yours is just as full,” I argue, offering my beer as evidence.

He looks between our two glasses and shrugs. “Maybe, but I can drink faster, so it doesn’t count.”

“How do you know that?” I demand, holding the beer up now as a challenge. “Chugging contest?”

His grin is evil and beautiful. “You’re on.”

“Three, two…” We both begin to drink as quickly as we can, though it becomes apparent to me that I’m quite outclassed. His Adam’s apple bobs distractingly and I reach out, tracing my finger down it before I can stop myself.

I freeze, my hand again on his chest, fingers grazing the skin above his neckline. When I meet his eye, he puts his glass on the railing and steps between my legs, wrapping his arms around me to bury his hands in my hair as he pulls me in for a kiss.

The way he feels is so distracting that I drop my own glass, still half full, on the outside of the patio, where it spills in the grass. I’m sure we could get kicked out of the venue for that, but right now I don’t care. I kiss my new friend Ron for all I’m worth. He tastes like whiskey and every flick of his talented tongue ignites tiny fires all over my body.

We snog for I don’t know how long, until we’re forced to come up for air. He doesn’t step away from me, but keeps his face close to mine as we pant.

“I can’t waste another second here, can you?” His whisper tickles my cheek.

I run the analysis, weighing my options even as my head spins from the snog. I grip his arms tighter. “We should go somewhere.”

His lopsided smile takes my breath away.

#chudleycanonficfest #chudley canon fest #hp canon pairings #hp canon romantic pairings #romione #side hinny #source: zurisenchantedquill

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billiebeanhoward · 3 years

Text

Silence - Multi Character

A/N: hello this has been an enormous project for me to do. Thanks for @stayevildarling for the prompt and for the help with this. Apologies, it's a long one. Tenses are a bit fucked but just go with it.

Prompt: Each character receives a mysterious invitation to visit a Hotel Cortez in LA to prove they're not alone in their struggles

TW: alcohol, mention of murder / death, cigarettes, swearing, mention of character death, hints at suicidal ideation,

Word Count: 4480

Tag list: @stayevildarling @okpaulson @mrsdeanhoward

Working at Kineros Robotics for the vast majority of her life, nothing really fazed Wilhemina anymore. Especially with the bullshit her bosses come up with daily, but when the redhead finds a strange invitation on her desk that morning, she never thought her life could get any stranger. The invitation that was written, well, typed, on very fancy looking stationary, held coordinates to a Hotel she never wanted to visit in her existence, but when she sees there is a list of nine other women's names, she assumes they're women, anyway; It piques her curiosity regardless and later that evening takes the rest of the weekend off work so she can drive the few hours to the Hotel.

Never been one for tardiness, the redhead arrives a mere twenty minutes early, the receptionist with ridiculous glasses asking her if she had booked a room to which she banged her cane and left towards the bar without a word. Conversation, socialising has never really been her strong suit, you can really blame her mother for that. She had been isolated from the outside world for most of her life growing up. Thinking back, she's glad for it. People are despicable. The bar isn't too shabby, not that she could complain, dark, quiet, she quite enjoys the ambience. Her cane clanks, hitting off the floor as she makes her way over to the bartender.

"And what can I get you, this fine evening?" she, she assumes, smiles politely. Nice enough.

"Anything purple?" her nose scrunched at the ridiculous request that leaves her mouth and she scolds herself silently moments before the bartender points a finger at her.

"You know what? I have just the thing," she turns around to pour the drinks, Wilhemina watching her every move, "So what brings you here?"

"Is that any of your business?"

"Oh, no, not at all." she shakes her head, "Enjoy your drink," Wilhemina eyes the mysterious neon concoction in front of her momentarily, before spotting a straw holder in the corner of her eyes and she reaches out to grab one when a hand grazes over her own.

"Oh, sorry," a British woman with a blonde pixie cut says quickly, pulling her hand away. "You look familiar, do I know you from anywhere?"

"No, I assure you, you don't."

The blonde put the green straw into her whiskey? before sipping it, "My name's Audrey, Audrey Tindall. I know what you're thinking..." Does this woman ever shut up? "I'm not related to the royal Tindalls, no."

"Did I ask?" Wilhemina cocks her head a little towards her and she quickly shies away, "Get out of my sight," The blonde scurries off to the other end of the bar while Wilhemina tries to enjoy her drink.

"Mom, what's this?" Ally looks over her shoulder, her arms elbow-deep in her sink as she washes up the dishes from dinner.

"Not sure, Ozzy. Can you read it for me, Sweetheart?"

"To whom it may concern, You are not alone.

34.0443° N, 118.2508° W

Ally, Audrey, Bette, Billie, Cordelia, Dot, Karen, Lana, Sally, Wilhemina. What does it mean, Mom?"

Ally empties the sink and clears away the dishes before wiping her hands on a towel, "I really don't know, does it say anything else? Give it here," she holds her hand out and he passes it to her as she studies it curiously.

"Karen!" The woman turns her head towards the door at her friend with a little smile on her face, "Guess who has mail?"

Her eyes widen in anticipation, "No, you're joking! Me?"

"Of course you! Open it." Mickey smiles as he passes it to her. She excitedly rips open the envelope, careful enough not to destroy the contents and unfolds the paper curiously. "Well, What does it say?"

"A bunch of numbers and names, Mick I think this is just junk,"

"No, Karen, the first mail you get in years, it can't be junk. Let me see," she passes it to him and in the dimness of the room, he looks at the letter. "They seem to be coordinates for somewhere,"

"Like for treasure?"

"Exactly, well, you never know, but could be someone who wants to murder you for all we know. But look, it says You are not alone."

"Course I'm not alone, fuck face, I have you."

Cordelia sets aside her paperwork for the evening, cradling a cup of hot coffee in her hands, she sighs as she takes a look at the monstrous pile of work ahead. She nudges her glasses further up her nose as the door of her office swung open. "Madison, how many times have I told you to knock?"

The younger blonde rolled her eyes as her arms crossed against her chest, "And why would I do that?"

"I could have been doing... something." the Supreme says before taking a sip from her coffee.

"When exactly was the last time you got laid, Cordy?"

This time the Supreme rolls her eyes before glaring at the younger witch, "And when was the last time you got laid, Maddy?" she snaps back, Madison slumps her shoulders, the smirk that graced her lips disappearing quickly, "What do you want?"

"I forgot to give you this when the mail came this morning," she absentmindedly threw a letter down on the desk before storming out.

Cordelia once again rolled her eyes at the girl, eyeing the mysterious envelope before picking it up.

Wilhemina looks down at the watch on her wrist whilst trying to figure out who exactly she's supposed to be meeting. The bar is seemingly quiet, and she stays seated at the stools near the bartender, Liz, who had told her her name, although she definitely didn't ask. Liz is a talker and a very annoying one at that, although Wilhemina is quite enjoying her company right now, or rather lack of as she attends to other women at the bar. A thought enters her mind at that moment, the name Audrey did ring bells, although not any ridiculous royal ones. She pulls the letter out of her blazer pocket and adjusts the glasses on her nose. There. The second name. Audrey. Was that her? Great. Now she does have to actually go off and talk to the chatterbox. She rolls her eyes before sighing, picking up her cane as she makes her way over to where Audrey is sitting, she seems to be sitting next to a brunette who did look quite familiar.

"Oh, hey!" Audrey greets, getting up from her place at the booth seemingly for Wilhemina to seat next to her. Wilhemina quickly turns around grabbing a chair from behind her and drags it to towards the table closer to the brunette instead, "Oh," the blonde says before pulling out a packet of cigarettes from her purse. "Do you mind?"

"I do actually, yes," Wilhemina says and the brunette turns to her.

"Are you here because of the letter as well?" Wilhemina nods and the other woman brings out her hand towards her for her to shake it, "I'm Ally, Ally Mayfair-Richards?"

"You're the one that was in that cult weren't you?" Wilhemina says. This has got to be the most interesting thing that has happened all night.

"Oh." Ally pulls her hand away looking around slightly awkwardly, "So you don't know me from my senator work? How did you know about the -"

"I saw it on this silly show I watched on the True crime channel."

"Right. So must know a lot about me then," she sips from her wine and Audrey annoyingly, despite Wilheminas dismissal, lights up a cigarette. "What's your name."

"Wilhemina Venable."

"Oh your name is Wilhemina, it's such a -"

"I'd prefer to be referred to only as Ms. Venable." Fine. Wilhemina has now made this awkward, thanks mouth. Change the subject. "Seven more women to find," she states, looking at the two, her hand gripped tightly around her cane. "Is this some sort of gangb-" Nope. "Right, I'm going to get another drink, excuse me."

"Sally that girl, what can I get you?" Liz asks a blonde that is definitely stuck in the '90s. Her hair is fully crimped, her outfit choice, however, is far more ridiculous, fishnet tights, a very short skirt, revealing shirt. Stop staring.

"The usual," she mumbles before diverting her attention back to the woman beside her. "So, are you from Tennessee? You're the only ten I see," Wilhemina almost spits her drink out as she hears the conversation between the two.

"No actually, I'm from Massachusetts." the brunette says, nodding slightly, clearly slightly uncomfortable.

"Oh, it's pretty close though, right."

"No you blonde idiot, it's a 17-hour drive," Wilhemina says and the blonde turns to look at her and this time she looks at her face.

"Did I ask you?"

"No, course not. I just like correcting idiots,"

"Well, I'm sorry we all couldn't afford to go to private schools," the blonde then storms off somewhere else, Wilhemina genuinely doesn't care. The brunette, however, slides closer over to Wilhemina.

"Thank you," she smiles.

Wilhemina's face turned to one of a fish, "What for?" The other woman continued sipping from her drink before leaning a little too close for comfort to Wilhemina before taking a deep breath.

"Is this.." she pauses, Wilhemina only furrows her brows at her, "Is this a 'girl' bar?" she asks curiously, "I'm only asking because..."

"Good question," the redhead smiles as she looks around the room, only women are seated, mainly bundled together with Ally and Audrey," Maybe this woman is one of the names on the list too. "Surely hope not," she mumbles. She doesn't want to make conversation but it seems she needs to. "What brings you here?" she continues to drink the nuclear waste that Liz calls a drink and looks at the brunette. She seems familiar too.

"I... This is going to sound really weird."

"Not as weird as that, I assure you," she points behind her and the brunette turns around to see a woman with two heads walk through the door with the frizzy blonde talking to them.

"Probably just as... How is that possible? That's fascinating." The brunette brings up her purse and pulls out a notepad."I'm a writer, you may have read my book. It's quite popular among women." She speaks but Wilhemina isn't listening. Distracted by the definition of fucking weird that just entered the room.

"You girls here for the "meeting"?" the frizzy blonde asks them and the head on the left nods. Creepy.

"Nice," she grabs a cigarette, it hanging from her mouth lazily as she spoke. Ok, so far there are Audrey, Ally, writer girl, the one Liz called Sally, the two-headed beast... Wilhemina looks around and spots another blonde speaking to Audrey and Ally. So extra blonde. And a homeless woman sitting at the back end of the bar.

"If you're here for the meeting, come over here!" extra blonde calls out over to her table and Wilhemina rolls her eyes, her cane clanking loudly as she walks over to the table. "I'm Cordelia Goode. Supreme of my coven in New Orleans."

"Ally Mayfair-Richards, I came here from Maine. Had to find a babysitter before I drove all the way here,"

"Audrey Tindall. Had to get a flight back from England."

"Lana, Lana Winters." the writer girl added.

"Wait.." three heads turn to her. "How is that possible?" Ally spoke.

Lana shrugged, an uncomfortable smile gracing her lips, "What do you mean?"

"You're... young?"

"Oh, wow, am I that old?"

"I- no of course not."

"What's that?" Wilhemina turns her head towards the left of the beast as she stares down at Sally's cellphone.

"Oh, come on I've been stuck here since the nineties and even I know what it is." she rolls her eyes.

The right one furrowed her brows. "90s?"

The two of them stared into space for a moment, their expressions changing every so often as if they're in a conversation and Wilhemina shakes her head and diverts her attention to the homeless one toddling over to the rest of the group. She looks paranoid, looking over her shoulders as if someone is following her.

"The rest of the introductions?" Audrey says, bringing the letter out and Lana handing her a pen from her purse before she ticks off the names of people here. "What's your name, sweetheart?" she asks the homeless one but she doesn't answer, peeking into the massive tote bag on her shoulder before Wilhemina hits her ankle with her cane to gain her attention.

"I'm not telling you my name. I don't even know who you are," she states

"Why are you sitting with us then?" the right one says before the homeless one gives them a look.

"I know people like you, fuck faces, huge assholes," she mutters

"I'm Dot, this is Bette, "Right one says almost headbutting the other

"I can introduce myself, Dot,"

Dot turns her head to look at her, "Well you were taking your sweet time,"

"Okay, we're only missing Billie and Karen."

Sally chuckles, her cigarette still hanging from her mouth, "That's definitely Karen," she points over to a blonde with wavy hair, pink blouse, pearl necklace and a pencil skirt and fake nails. "I actually thought you were Karen until you said your name is Audrey," she looks to Audrey and Wilhemina purses her lips trying to stifle her laugh.

Audrey looked offended as if someone ran over her mothers already dead body. Her nostrils flaring as she leans over the table towards Sally, "And what do you mean by that?"

Before anything happens and all hell breaks loose in the Hellmouth they already were in, the homeless one squeaks up. "I'm Karen."

That's it. Wilhemina laughed. "What's so funny?" Cordelia asks the redhead who continued chuckling as she tried to drink her acid.

"Nothing, continue."

Lana finally pieces the puzzle together, "That's Billie."

"Congratulations, would you like a gold star. I'm sure Mommy senator here has plenty for you." Wilhemina chuckled at her own joke because it was funny. The other women did laugh too. Billie made her way over somewhat gracefully, her hands flaring as if she's trying to pick up a watermelon. Karen probably has one hidden in that Mary Poppins bag of hers.

"Good evening, girls. I'm Billie Dean Howard, Medium to the stars." she flutters her fingers around like one of those stupid ASMR videos that Wilhemina has not ever watched before and took a seat beside Bette and Dot.

"Were you the one who sent the letters?" Bette asked, her fingers fiddling with the hem of the dress she shared? with Dot before Dot slapped her fingers away.

"No, I assume you're all here for the same thing. As am I. Unfortunately, it had to be here though,"

Cordelia sighs, shifting uncomfortably in her seat seeming to know what the hell Billie was actually talking about. "I know, it's like they're screaming in the walls."

Liz comes over handing Billie her drink while giving a pointed look towards Sally, "What? I didn't kill everyone here, y'know."

"Your reputation says otherwise." she turns to the rest of the group, "Enjoy your stay,"

"Does anyone actually know what this is about... Wait I know you, I've seen your face on the side of a bus," Audrey says excitedly

"And I know you, Ms Audrey Tindall. Making a big name for yourself I see after My Roanoke Nightmare." Billie smiles at her and Wilhemina gives a look of impressive to the two blondes.

"Oh god don't. My shrink is still drilling it into my head that it wasn't real."

"What wasn't?" Lana asks curiously, her notepad in hand as she continued to write notes.

"You haven't seen the show?"

"What show?"

Wilhemina diverts her attention towards Ally's and Cordelia's conversation although it seemed to be about cheating exs so then she focuses on what Dot, Bette and Sally were saying.

"It's 1952 where you're from?" Okay, now that is interesting. "How did you get here?" Sally points her phone in their faces.

"Can you please get that thing out of our faces! It's scary," Bette says,

"We killed our mother and you're saying that's scary." Fine. She stood up and made her way to Karen.

"Don't want to talk to you." she mumbled, seemingly comfortable slightly curled up in the seat.

"I don't want to talk to you either." Hmm, maybe the homeless one isn't too bad after all.

After a few extra drinks, everyone seems to be in a better mood, laughing, joking, much to Wilhemina's dismay, and even still trying to make conversation with her. Which she has done. Gotten to reluctantly know more about those with who she was almost forcefully made to be made acquaintances. Sally stood up on the chair, wobbling slightly as she tries to regain her balance. "Ladies, Unfortunately, Liz is closing up for the night." most women whined but Wilhemina was genuinely happy she finally got to go home. Was this it? What exactly was this about? "But... We can take this party up to my room,"

Wilhemina almost growled to herself, the thought of being at home a lot more comfortable than being in a hotel room with nine other women. All women stood up and followed Sally to the elevators. Billie and Cordelia following behind as they chatted.

Wilhemina slowed her pace a little mainly because she felt like her back couldn't handle it but also because she wants to know what the two blondes are talking about. "If the letters weren't really from you, then who was it?" Cordelia asks

"I genuinely thought it was you, dear. Seems like a 'you' thing to be bringing in people of all backgrounds, especially lonely ones at that,"

"I'm not lonely. You don't even know me." Karen pipes up defensively, still holding her bag close.

"No, not at all." Billie shakes her head, "But I do know when one is feeling lost and doesn't know how to get back up," she says before rushing off to get to the others.

Wilhemina's steps slowed as she enters the elevator, not one for taking the stairs. She opens her mouth but Cordelia is quick to speak, "I like your hair," the redhead raises an eyebrow at the blonde, a hint of a blush rising on her cheeks.

"You're drunk, Ms. Goode,"

"Oh, please. Call me Cordelia. I'm nothing like my mother." she says before her expression turns somewhat sorrowful. Her mouth opened, slightly agape seeming as she wants to speak but she doesn't. So Wilhemina decides it's humane of her to change the subject.

"You know Ms. Howard?" she looks down at the floor, the elevator dinging indicating their arrival on the floor where Sally's room is located.

"Oh yes, she's not a witch though," the blonde slightly stumbles out, almost tripping on her heels when Wilhemina rolls her eyes reaching her arm out to catch her.

"I didn't ask," she states, although she is due for another awful round of dosed up fuckery that is her medication she fights through it, tries to anyway. Liz's miracle drinks seem to be working fine as an atomic type of painkiller. She allows Cordelia to loop her arm around her shoulder, hers around the blonde's waist as they walk down the hallway towards the room Karen just strangely snuck into as if she's there on a heist.

"You know of my story then?" Lana asks seemingly gobsmacked towards the other women, "And not from my book, from my talk show? One I don't even have yet?"

"How exactly did you get here?" Audrey asks curiously as she sits down on the bed, crossed legged like an elementary school child.

"I received the letter, like the rest of you. I took the train. Fell asleep, woke up at the station and everything was different but I couldn't really explain it. Then I asked around about the coordinates and someone guided me to this hotel."

"The same thing happened to us," Bette smiled at her but Dot was quick to scold her

"Don't listen to my idiot of a sister, we've never been on a train in our lives. We woke up, found the note at the foot of our bed and started to get ready for our show."

"Show?" Billie asks before closing her eyes for a brief moment. "Does the name Eudora mean anything to you?"

"We work fo-" Bette starts

"No, absolutely not. Bette, we're leaving."

"But we've been having so much fun, Dot."

"No,"

"She says she forgives you."

Tears well up in both their eyes for a moment as they sit back down on the bed. Wilhemina slowly helps Cordelia sit down on the armchair beside them and awkwardly perches on the arm of said chair.

"She forgives you Bette for what you did but," she closes her eyes before facing Dot, "She doesn't forgive you for what you tried to do to your sister."

An awkward silence filled the room, only to be heard are the sniffles from the twins and the lighting up of cigarettes before Sally broke the silence, "You know, I would probably do anything to have a sister and you tried to kill her?" Dot looks away ashamedly.

Bette, sweet Bette, she seems so childlike, she just smiles, "I would do anything to make my Dot happy,"

"I would rather kill myself than let anyone treat me the way she treats you." Sally rolls her eyes "And I'm dead," she brings her hand to the side of her mouth as if she's revealing a huge secret.

"At least she's not alone," Ally says, sipping on more wine. "I'd do anything for my son, the way Bette clearly would for her sister."

"And let her kill herself?" Audrey remarks, "That's not love."

"Wouldn't you kill for love? Fight for others."

"I'd rather be a lover than a fighter, because all my life, I've been fighting." Lana says, "I've lost the love of my life and had been through so much I ca-" tears escape her eyes and Audrey curls up beside her, wrapping an arm around her frame.

Karen opened her mouth wanting to speak, most of them probably expecting her spewing profanities but instead, her face was calm, "I've never felt a feeling of comfort. All this time, I've been hiding. Where I'm from the stupid fuckfaces who live there..." There we go. "All they do is just think I'm some mad homeless woman -"

"Aren't you?" Wilhemina blurts out, a smirk gracing her lips and Karen glares at her.

"That's not the point, you fucking, purple, fucking, dragon bitch."

Wilhemina tilts her head, impressed with the insult. "Carry on."

"I don't want to anymore."

"I never had someone to call my own," Bette says, her usual smile now a frown as she fights back her own tears

"I'm so used to sharing." Dot mutters, looking down at her fingers. Billie reaches out to hold their hands to comfort them.

"Love only left me alone," Audrey says,

"I've found peace in the violence, can't tell me there's no point in trying," Sally says, cigarette hanging from her mouth as she speaks, mascara running down her face

Wilhemina thinks it's her turn to speak, Cordelia looking at her intently from the seat. "I'm in need of a saviour," it feels like she confessed her deepest darkest secrets. Words she would have never thought she would say out loud to anyone. She sees Billie lift her head as if to speak "But I'm not asking for favours," she says, Billie nods understandingly.

"My whole life, I've felt like a burden," Cordelia pipes up, her chin quivering as she spoke. "I think too much, and I hate it"

Ally pulls a small face, finishing her wine before she spoke, "I'm so used to being in the wrong. I'm tired of caring."

"Loving never gave me a home" Karen speaks again, probably feeling a lot more comfortable with the group now. Which is surprising as she acted as if they would kill her.

"I'll sit here in the silence," Billie says. She hadn't said anything. She gave a small smile before lighting up a cigarette. Wilhemina only groans, now her clothes probably stank worse than an ashtray at the amount the four women had smoked like a chimney. "I'm at one with myself. I've been quiet for so long."

There's silence for a few moments. Not uncomfortable at all, surprisingly. Although plenty of tears, small sobs escaping and a few hugs. This was needed. Everyone felt seen, even in the silence of the room. They felt heard. They all understood and could relate one way or another to each other and, maybe the letter was right. You are not alone.

But the one question is... who was the one who had sent it?

Maybe someone out there who cared enough for each woman individually and knew their struggles maybe even up to a personal extent. Maybe whoever sent it just wanted the women to know that they are loved and people do care.

Maybe it was you.

The night was slowly coming to an end, the women started to say their goodbyes when Lana had an idea, "Sally?"

Sally lifted her head from where it lay on Cordelia's shoulder as the two blondes were almost fast asleep. "Hmm?" Wilhemina stood, collecting her cane ready to leave but Cordelia's hand stopped her, grabbing onto the hem of her blazer.

"Give me your cell number, I have an idea." the brunette gave Sally the pen and paper and Sally wrote her number down, passing it back. "If I remember you'd hear from me again," then the brunette vanished. Magic tricks aside, most of the women were either too drunk or half-asleep to even react. Sally's phone began ringing loudly, Wilhemina picked it up, disgusting fluffy case in hand as Sally snatches it from her.

"Hello?"

"Sally? It's me, Lana. Put me on speaker." the familiar yet different voice said. The women looked, Wilhemina observing from the door until she noticed Bette and Dot aren't there either.

"Lana, it's you?" Audrey says, tears in her eyes, "God I've missed you." It's been less than two minutes you dramatic blonde. Wilhemina rolls her eyes as Lana chuckles down the phone.

"I've missed you too, Audrey. It's been fifty-five years since I had last heard your voice."

Wilhemina, now confused, was ready to leave. She pried the sleepy blonde away and left. On the way back to her home, she magically bumped into Billie. "What do you want?" she almost snapped.

"We're wondering if you'd like to meet back up at the hotel again next week." the blonde smiles, of course, cigarette in hand. Wilhemina sighed, as much as she hates to admit it she really did enjoy the company in comparison to her lonely nights at home in the silence.

"Okay," she says, Billie, raising an eyebrow at her expectantly.

"Okay? That was easy,"

"Don't think it'll be any easier than this, Ms. Howard, I'm a busy woman."

"Hm, I'm sure."

"If Ms. Winters is.. a woman of age now, What happened to the Tattlers?" Wilhemina asks out of curiosity, Billie purses her lips as she thinks of an answer.

"They're gone. They're at one with the silence."

"Good night, Ms. Howard." Wilhemina opens the door to her car.

"Good night, Ms. Venable," Billie says but Wilhemina can literally hear the smile that's on her lips as she says it. "Oh, Cordelia wants me to give you her cell," Billie hands the redhead her number through the crack of the window. "Then you don't have to be at one with the silence for so long. Neither of us do. We have each other now, just remember that. All thanks to Y/N."

#sarah paulson #ahs #wilhemina venable #cordelia goode #billie dean howard #cordelia foxx #tb karen #lana winters #audrey tindall #sally mckenna #bette and dot tattler

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hotdamnhunnam · 3 years

Text

Head of the Table

A/N: So here’s a fun little fic focused on sucking Raymond Smith’s rich-ass dick! 😋 This is based on the below requests – in which you and Ray have been keeping your relationship a secret, since you’re the little sister of Ray’s boss... Somehow this whole setup results in you at a nice restaurant, hidden under the tablecloth, sucking him off.

Pairing: Raymond Smith x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, dom!Raymond, you sucking his cock under the table at a restaurant Requests: anon request + part of a prior request from @my-name-is-alice-ayers (reader being Mickey’s sister)

Word Count: ~1k

“Just face it, Ray. You’re basically his bitch.”

Ray can see you’re in one of your rare moods today, so he takes it in stride with a quirk of his brows and a smirk on his lips. The insult doesn’t cause him so much as a twitch. It’s insulting to you just how few fucks he gives. Offensive, to be honest, the way Mr. Smith carries on enjoying his hors d’oeuvre of expensive olives.

Well, he sure as hell isn’t the only one who can offend. You continue berating your bearded, bespectacled boyfriend. “Second in command shouldn’t mean you have to act like you’re less of a man. Take some shit in your own hands.”

He smirks again. That smirk of absolute sex, working those fancy specs, and that damn mustard cardigan. “Y/N, it’s called loyalty.”

“No, it’s called treating your boss like he’s royalty,” you retort, taking a sip of the wine that your waiter just poured. “Ray, I’m one of the few who can honestly say that I know Mickey Pearson far better than you. You would earn more respect from him if you’d just stop behaving like a bug under his fucking shoe.”

It’s a point Ray refuses to take. “Just for argument’s sake, let’s pretend what you’re saying is true. What would you have me do?”

Where to even begin...? “Well, stand up to the man, as often as you can. Speak your mind. Convince him that you have every right to be shagging his sister; it’s not your fault you can’t resist her. My body is mine, not my brother’s. Just ‘cause I’m a Pearson that doesn’t mean we can’t be lovers. It’s not out of line.”

“I see now—that’s what this is about...” he realizes aloud. “You’re just tired of sneaking around, fear of us getting found. Want your man to parade you through town, loud and proud.”

“Don’t dare patronize me,” you reply, indignant and icy. “Raymond, I’m asking you nicely.”

Your guy blinks his bedazzling blue eyes. “Nice? That’s rich. Love, you called me his bitch.”

“Would you rather I call you a shit-eating cunt?” you shamelessly respond. “I’d be happy to get mean if that’s what you want.”

“Thought that's my job. You've always preferred me on top,” he reminds you, and it’s all too true. “Being dominant... dishing out punishment...”

Once he goes down this road he has already won. You won’t let him keep turning you on with his taunts. “Raymond! We mustn’t speak of such fuckery in a respectable restaurant.”

You really mustn’t, to be sure. And yet you have no clue just how much fuckery is in store. Before this night is done, you’ll be down on the floor, serving Ray as his cocksucking whore.

***************

You and your secret boyfriend aren’t here for a romantic dinner at this fine establishment—rather, a small family gathering, one that your drug lord big brother had planned, with the Pearsons and some of their most trusted friends. It’s a weekly event. And it goes without saying that King Mickey always invites his kid sister Y/N and his right-hand man Raymond.

The two of you always arrive early, say half an hour before—separately, of course, so as not to stir any suspicion. Spend some time all alone together in the lounge before your table is even ready for Mr. Pearson’s reservation. These brief chats over bar snacks and pre-dinner drinks are the closest thing you’ll get to dating; otherwise you and Ray can’t be spotted together alone in any public setting. The stress and the secrecy of it have gotten infuriating.

By the time your table is all set, no one else in your party has gotten here yet. As usual, Big Brother Pearson is far too important to bother with trying to be punctual. Ugh, fuck it all.

Before you leave the lounge for the dining room as the bright-eyed hostess beckons, Ray sheds off his mustard sweater and asks her to please check it. Reckons he looks better-suited for dinner without it, in his chocolate corduroy jacket.

The man likes his layers. Sometimes just to get him undressed for a proper fuck you have to fumble through five shirts and ten vests and twenty-one blazers.

Meanwhile you can tell that the hostess is struggling to fight back the impulse to bury her face in Ray’s fucking magnificent cardigan, and you can’t blame her. That thing is the Sweater of Snuggles™️, and smells just as good as he smells—you’ve been guilty of cuddling with it time and time again, whenever Ray is absent, out on a job somewhere. As your thoughts drift in that direction at random, you realize that you love him so much it’s really not fair...

But you also hate him, and you’ve made it your mission today to enrage him. To piss him off so hard that maybe the alpha male animal in him—the one that he mainly reserves for the bedroom—will come out and go fucking crazy. Announce to the world without shame that you two are dating, that Little Miss Pearson is his little lady.

You know you’re insane to imagine that such a thing would ever happen. But that doesn’t stop you from trying your hand. Trying to make a real fucking man of your man.

“You should sit at the head of the table, my love,” you propose as the hostess leads you to your seats—then quickly scurries off, as she senses the tension between you two building and burning with furious heat. “Have you ever in all your damn life?”

Every feature on Ray’s face implodes in a shook-as-fuck blink. Clearly you just pushed him to the brink. Looks as if he just swallowed a whole set of steak knives.

You have no way of knowing, in light of how spitefully business between you is going... but that was the moment he knew that he would someday make you his wife.

Not today, though. Good Lord no. Today you’ll be filling quite a different purpose. Performing a very particular service...

As it happens, your plan to push his buttons worked and was so fucking worth it. The rest of this night is going to be so fucking perfect.

***************

... Continued in Part 2!

Hope you enjoyed this, and would love to hear if you did! 🤗❤️

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#charlie hunnam #raymond smith #ray smith #the gentlemen #charlie hunnam smut #raymond smith smut #the gentlemen smut #charlie hunnam imagine #raymond smith imagine #the gentlemen imagine #charlie hunnam fanfiction #raymond smith fanfiction #the gentlemen fanfiction #raymond smith x reader #raymond smith x you #ray smith x reader #ray smith x you #charlie hunnam x reader #charlie hunnam x you

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scxrsgxrd · 3 years

Text

Halloween, Mickey style

For the lovely @grandpa-sweaters follower milestone🖤I truly cannot express how happy I am that you’re a part of this fandom and to be able to read the amazing content you put out!! This is my first long spooky piece, and I had a lot of fun with this writing challenge and getting into the Halloween spirit. I hope you can all enjoy some spooky!Mickey👻

WARNINGS: 18+, slight smut and some spooky goings-on!

They had been in the car for at least four hours, she surmised. Not that she was complaining, car journeys with Mickey were anything but tedious. His Halloween playlist was blasting in the car, with Mickey enthusiastically tapping his fingers on the steering wheel to the tune of ‘monster mash’, flashing his girl a large grin as he noticed her leg start to bounce to the rhythm of the chorus.

“I swear we passed that tree an hour ago.” Mickey’s playful expression dulled as he pushed his foot on the brakes, leaning over to the backseat to grab the pile of maps his father had bestowed them with when he heard news of their secluded weekend away.

“Do you know which one we need?” She peered over to look at the crinkled maps, feeling a pang in her stomach when she realised she had no idea where they were. Before waiting for Mickey to answer she grabbed her phone, letting out a quiet groan when she saw she had no cell reception.

“Uh...” Mickey’s brows furrowed as he turned one of the maps round in circles, bringing one of his forefingers up to his lips as he chewed on his fingernail anxiously.

“There’s no reception on either of our phones. How much gas do you have left?”

“An hour, give or take.”

Mickey’s answer filled her with a dread she hadn’t felt in a long time. They were lost, with not enough to gas to return home, or to locate a gas station. She closed her eyed for a few seconds, trying to scramble up some kind of plan in her mind, which was proving quite difficult as ‘time warp’ was blasting out of the stereo.

“Look, babe, it’s fine. If anything this is what we wanted, just us in the middle of nowhere.” Mickey leaned his hand across to tousle her hair and she let out the breath she had been holding. Mickey was right. They were alone for miles, with no phones to distract them.

“That backseat is looking pretty cosy, huh?” Mickey’s hand was now making its way down her chest, toying with the buttons on her dress as she felt a warmth between her legs.

In an instant they were both in the backseat, fumbling with jackets and belts in the limited space. Her back was pressed against the uncomfortable seats as her legs were wrapped around Mickey, who was trying his best to look sexy while wriggling his jeans and boxer shorts down to his ankles while hovering above her. She managed to hitch her dress up to her waist and kick off her woollen tights, shivering slightly as she felt the chill of the late October air hit her.

“You’re so fucking sexy.” Mickey mumbled as he pressed his lips to her neck, his long fingers trailing up her thighs until they reached her panties. She instinctively arched her back as she felt him remove them, a move which he rewarded with pressing himself into her slowly.

Her nails dug into his t shirt as he began to rock his hips back and forth, hissing a string of curses into her ear as his hips rutted against hers. She could feel herself edging closer and closer to her release with each second, her walls starting to clench around Mickey’s cock when all of a sudden he leapt upwards, hitting his head off the roof of the car as his face went white.

“What the fuck.” His eyes were fixed out of the window, his nostrils flared as he went completely stiff.

“Mickey? What’s wrong?” She shuffled upwards and craned her head around as far as she could to look out of the window, seeing nothing but the setting sun and the dense field of crops behind their car.

“Someone was there.” Mickey’s voice trembled as he hoisted his jeans up, not taking his gaze off that same spot outside the car.

“Don’t mess around, it’s not funny.” Her lips pursed together as she pulled up her panties and tights, smoothing down the creases on her dress.

“I’m not, someone was there. Some old guy, staring right at me.”

“It was probably nothing, it’s just because it’s that time of year, I told you not to stay up last night watching those horror movies.” As she climbed back into the front of the car Mickey still stayed knelt in the backseat, rooted to the spot as his eyes darted around the vast expanse surrounding them.

“Come on, Mick. If we drive along the road we might find a motel or something.” She rubbed his arm gently, slowly coaxing him into the drivers seat and turning the car engine back on.

As Mickey pressed the gas pedal, instead of going forwards, the car began to rock, making a screeching noise before going silent.

“No, please no.” Mickey’s finger’s shook against the wheel as his breathing began to quicken.

“Mickey, baby calm down. It’s alright.” She was about to lean over to kiss his cheek when she felt her blood turn cold. A glance in the rear-view mirror had confirmed Mickey’s earlier sighting. There was a man stood behind their car, face contorted with anger as he stared right back at her.

“Start the car. Try it again.” She yelled, hitting the lock as she watched the man approach her window. His fist hammered on the glass as she attempted to ignore it, her heart thudding against her chest as time after time, the car refused to move.

“You filthy delinquents. This is private land.” Both her and Mickey froze when the man finally spoke, his irate words somehow calming them both. He was just the land owner, probably a disgruntled farmer.

Mickey rolled the window an inch, gulping as he took in a deep breath.

“Sorry, mister. We’re lost and our car is stuck in something, we just need a mechanic and then we’ll be out of your hair.” Mickey’s words came tumbling out of his mouth, and the expression of the man outside the car seemed to soften slightly.

“No mechanic will come out at this hour, we’re in for a heck of a storm tonight.” They watched as he pointed toward the darkening clouds, chuckling as the first few droplets of rain started to land on the bonnet of their car, as if summoned by the imposing man who had caught them.

“I own the old farmhouse down the way. You two must’ve passed it on your way here. You better come with me if you want to survive.” Once again he chuckled, this time with slightly more rigour, gesturing for the two of them to exit their car and follow him as though this were a completely normal situation they had found themselves in on Halloween night.

When they reached the farmhouse she felt Mickey tugging on her arm, staring up nervously at the rickety, aged structure that was looming above them. Darkened, wilted vines had long since begun to scale each wall of the house, entwining themselves around every window so that was no view into the house, or out. However, what surrounded them was arguably worse. There was a vast swamp surrounding the house, filled with stagnant, oozing water that made Mickey’s girl pull the neckline of her dress over her nose.

“We can’t stay here, there’s probably gators in there” Mickey hissed in her ear, pulling her away from the edge of the swamp and toward the farmhouse.

“It’s fine, it’s just one night.” She whispered once she had regained her composure, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze and following the farm owner up the creaky, cobweb-bound stairs to the entrance of his home.

As he was turning his key in the lock, both he and Mickey’s girl instinctively turned on their heels as they heard a blood-curdling scream behind them, revealing a wiry old cat curling itself around Mickey’s legs.

“N’aw, that’s just ol’ Mr, Whiskers, he ain’t gonna do you no harm, boy.” The farmer let out a brisk tsking sound and scooped up the cat, shoving his shoulder against the door to open it and then gently placing the cat inside.

“Fucking cat.”

Mickey’s girl shot him a warning look as he brushed his hands down his jeans, wafting away clumps of hair Mr. Whiskers had left behind from his greeting.

“Now you two can take the guest room, straight up the stairs and onto your first right.” He held out the key to his guests, but quickly retracted it when Mickey landed his fingers on the rusted metal.

“I got rules in this house, and I don’t want you two thinkin’ you can do all your hanky panky in my sheets. Understood?”

Mickey gave him a curt nod and a wide, sarcastic smile, taking the key and his girlfriend’s hand as he led her to their room for the night. When she had put her bags down and perched on the edge of the bed, Mickey grabbed the chair that was in the corner of the room and propped it up against the old, rotting door.

“Mickey.”

“What? We don’t know this guy, I’m not taking any chances.” He held up his hands and kicked off his boots before jumping onto the bed, causing a loud, unnerving creaking sound to fill the room.

“You know, this never would’ve happened if you hadn’t insisted we use your dad’s maps.” She cocked her eyebrow, lying herself down next to Mickey with her head rested on his chest.

“Hey, we used to use those all the time when I was a kid, they only seemed to fail when you were here.” Mickey playfully poked her in the side, using his other arm to wrestle her beneath him as his lips moulded themselves against hers.

“Mmmm...”

“Mickey, I don’t think we should.” She tried her best to reprimand him, sucking in a deep breath as Mickey’s hands started to wander up her dress.

“Oh come on, he’s not gonna know.”

“It just doesn’t feel right, not here.”

Mickey nodded and placed a kiss on her nose before laying back down next to her, curling his arm over her shoulders as the rain outside started to lash against the wooden frame of the house from outside.

She could feel herself about to surrender to sleep when Mickey started to wriggle around on the bed next to her, tapping his fingers against the bedsheets and humming as he usually did when he needed to distract himself from something.

“What is it?” She leant up on her elbow and peered at Mickey through the darkness in the room, who was chewing in his bottom lip and fidgeting round even more frequently.

“I really gotta pee.”

“So go to the bathroom?”

“In this place? Are you kidding me? What I sit on the toilet and something either bites me on the ass or sucks me into the sewer?”

She couldn’t help but giggle, shaking her head after a few moments and letting out a sigh.

“So you’re just going to hold it until morning?”

“My Uncle Finch knew this guy who could re-absorb his pee into his body, maybe I could try that.” Mickey closed his eyes and held his breath, starting to count to what she could only assume was infinity as she felt herself begin to drop off into sleep once again.

Mickey had seemed to join her, as they both sat upright in a start as a bolt of lightening caused the whole house to shudder, and the chair that had jammed the door shut fell to the floor, but they were both frozen to the spot, neither one of them daring to move a muscle to prop it back up into place.

“Let’s go back to the car.” Mickey’s tone was desperate but she shook her head.

“We can’t, that swamp will have flooded by now and like you said, there’s probably gators surrounding every inch of the house.”

Mickey groaned and threw his head against the hard pillows of their bed, staring up at the damp spores of the ceiling as he willed the night to be over as quickly as possible. He bolted upright once more when he felt something fluffy glide across his feet, throwing himself onto the other side of the bed with a screech as a pair of iridescent eyes fixed on him.

“Mickey, it’s just the cat. I think he likes you.” His girl tried to suppress a giggle as the cat pounced onto Mickey’s legs and with a throaty purr, settled onto his lap.

“How did it get in here? The door is closed.”

“It doesn’t matter, try to get some rest.”

Reluctantly, Mickey petted the cat’s head who, satisfied, closed its eyes and fell into a slumber.

She didn’t remember falling back asleep, but when she woke there were voices outside their door, and the first few rays of the autumnal morning sunshine had begun to force themselves through the tiny gaps in the vines acting as armour across the window.

“Mickey. Mickey wake up.” She hissed, gently shaking the sleeping figure next to her, noticing that their furry visitor from the night before had all but disappeared, despite the door still remaining firmly closed.

“Huh? What?” Mickey murmured as he finally started to stir, rubbing his hands over his eyes as the voices from down the hallway started getting louder, until the doorknob began to turn, revealing two men dressed in full protective work-gear, clearly bemused by the sight before them.

“How did you two get in? This place has been condemned for years, storm last night tore down the whole East side of the house. Hell, you’re lucky you’re both still here.” One of the men cautiously looked around their room before stepping foot in, ensuring both of them were careful to exit the rickety bedroom.

“What do you mean? We ran out of gas and some farmer guy who owned the place said we could stay the night.” Mickey began to explain, pulling on his jacket and lacing up his boots.

Both of the construction workers looked at each other, their faces paling slightly as they cast their gaze back to the couple.

“You saw old Farmer Jones?”

“If that’s his name then, yeah.”

“Guys been dead for over a decade.”

“What?” Mickey and his girl responded in unison, their voices laced with equal parts confusion and terror.

“As the old legend has it, he spends every Halloween night wandering around his land with his cat, inviting people into his house to shelter them from the storm that happens every year. Guess you two were lucky, now that’s a story to tell your friends back home.” The guy chuckled and led both Mickey and his girl out of the house, leaving them at the side of the swamp as he called a mechanic for their car troubles.

Mickey shoved his hands in his pockets and took a deep breath.

“I knew there was something fucked up about that cat.”

#subby!mickey #mickey stuff #mickey drabble #villains 2019

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apolloloki97 · 3 years

Text

“Back On Solid Ground” Ian Gallagher x Mickey Milkovich

Summary: After Mickey is released early from prison, he is in no rush to go back into the arms of Ian Gallagher. After unsuccessfully trying to win Mickey back, the rest of the Gallagher siblings and a couple of friends try to help out their favourite Southside couple.

Or when Ian's friends and siblings try to get Mickey to talk to Ian after Mickey gets out.

Word Count: 7302

Warning: Swearing, Mentions of Mental Illness

Song I Wrote To: “I Found" by Amber Run

Note: Now, I am not a lawyer and I usually do research for fics, but just go with me on the legal proceedings for this. I love this story a lot and I always wanted more of Mickey's emotions after he was released. I needed this after the show finale as well.

----------

The last thing Mickey wanted to do was drink alone and so he called his favourite cousin.

Sandy was finally back in town after leaving once she got out of juvie for the last time. Iggy had told Mickey that Sandy was trying to go straight, but the younger Milkovich brother knew that the only straight thing about his cousin was her hair.

Regardless, once he was out of prison, she was his first call. Turns out that when the woman who presses charges on you for attempted murder goes insane and is deemed a pathological liar, the justice system becomes much more lenient. Mickey still remembered the moment the warden told him that he was getting out. He thought it had been some kind of sick joke from Terry or one of the other delinquent Milkoviches. Yet, everything was soon in order and Mickey was released with a few strokes of a pen.

That was a week ago and after crashing on Sandy’s couch and wallowing in his own sorrow over losing the man he loved, he finally ventured out into the world to interact with people. Well, only if you consider the lowlifes at the Alibi Room, people.

Mickey sat across from Sandy as she drank her second beer, very happy to be out with him rather than cooped up watching reruns of some horrible sitcom. Sandy was his favourite Milkovich next to Mandy, but Mickey hadn’t seen his sister in some time and he wasn’t even sure where she was. He got a text or a voicemail every couple of months just to let him know she was still alive, but that was it. He missed Mandy, but he knew she needed to get out of the Southside and he was happy for her.

Mickey glanced around the room, the afternoon sun filtering through the windows as it illuminated the day-drinkers. Mickey was itching to do something other than sitting at a dive bar and trying to dodge questions that he knew Kev and V both had. However, he was happy to be with Sandy who grinned at him from across the table.

“What?” Mickey asked, taking a sip from his beer. “You keep staring.”

“I’m just happy you called,” Sandy said with a shrug. Mickey watched her for a second before snorting.

“Who else would I call?”

“I don’t know. Colin?” Sandy paused for a second before looking at him over the rim of her glass. “Ian?”

“Don’t,” Mickey warned, not willing to talk about Ian, especially not to someone who didn’t even know him. Mickey had been hurt when Ian broke up with him on the stoop of the Gallagher house. Mickey had done everything for Ian. He had come out for him, tried to take care of him when he was at his lowest with his bipolar, and even protected him when the handsy old men would try things when Ian was drugged out of his mind on whatever anyone was willing to give him.

“Have you seen him yet?” Sandy asked.

“Nope,” Mickey said with a dismissive look as he sipped on his beer again.

“Mickey…” Sandy tried again.

“Why should I, huh? Bitch never visited me, did he?” Mickey said. It still hurt that as soon as Svetlana stopped asking him to do jobs for the Russian mob, Ian had essentially blocked him out of his life. Ian hadn't even taken calls from Mickey while he was locked up. He knew that Ian had left him, but he never expected the redhead to completely lock him out of his life, not when Mickey needed him the most.

“I thought you loved him,” Sandy said, folding her arms in front of her on the table.

“Didn’t mean much to him, did it?” Mickey said bitterly.

“He was sick, Mickey,” Sandy said, trying to rationalize.

“You don’t think I don’t know that?” he asked. “I was the one that was there for him. I took care of him and he just threw me away while his bitch of a sister…” Mickey trailed off, not wanting to lose his temper. He had been trying to work on that for a while and now was not the time to come undone. Mickey needed to keep calm for his own sake and Sandy's.

“Have you told anyone you’re back?” Sandy asked. “You know, besides Kev and V?”

“No,” Mickey said as he finished off the glass of beer before him.

“So, we’re here because…” Sandy said, gesturing around the bar that was a Southside staple.

“It’s early,” Mickey said. “Gallaghers don’t get day drunk. Well, Frank does, but fuck Frank.”

“Maybe you should tell someone,” Sandy said, trying to be comforting and supportive. This was one of the many reasons why Sandy and Mandy got along so well. They were always getting into other people’s business and especially Mickey’s. If he was being honest with himself, and he always was, he figured that they were the same person at times.

It was terrifying.

Still, she had a point. Some of the time.

“Who would I tell, hmm?” Mickey asked, leaning forward on the table in front of him. Sandy’s eyes flickered from him to the door over Mickey’s shoulder, trying to predict the reaction that she knew was about to happen. However, she didn’t back down. Mickey had been avoiding it all for too long.

“Start with him,” Sandy said, gesturing over Mickey’s shoulder. Confused, Mickey turned around in the booth to see Ian. The third eldest Gallagher sibling had entered the bar with his older brother Lip and Lip’s boss, Brad. Lip and Brad were more focused on the game on the TV above the bar than Ian was. Ian was staring right at Mickey with a surprised expression.

Their eyes were locked together and Mickey felt as if he couldn’t breathe. As soon as Ian took a step forward, Mickey turned back around and shut his eyes tightly. “No, no, no,” Mickey said under his breath, trying to calm his heart rate.

“Mickey, stay calm,” Sandy tried, reaching for her cousin’s hand. Mickey pulled away as if he had been burned. Shaking out his hand, he got to his feet.

“Please don’t,” Mickey breathed out as Sandy watched him clamor out of the booth. From his pocket, Mickey slammed some bills onto the table.

“Mickey…” Sandy said, her tone almost desperate. Mickey ignored her pleas, pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and then headed through the back of the bar, ignoring the ginger-haired Gallagher that waited behind him. Just as he shrugged into the back room, he ran into Veronica. V stared after him in confusion, watching as her friend disappeared up the stairs that led to the old apartment above the bar.

V then turned to Sandy with a question on her lips. Sandy simply nodded towards Ian who was in the same spot as he had been when Mickey had noticed him. V sighed, understanding immediately. She didn’t know every detail about how the relationship had ended, but she knew enough. Most importantly, she knew how much Mickey loved Ian and how much Ian had hurt the man who had done everything to make sure he was okay.

Veronica turned her attention back to the bar, going to restock the Jameson and whatnot. Sandy added her own bills to the pile that Mickey had left before grabbing her bag and hoisting it over her shoulder. Sliding out of the booth, she approached the front door, trying to avoid the Gallagher brothers when Kevin appeared, stepping into the bar with a large black duffle in his arms. Sandy stopped as he went up to her, stopping just shy of Ian.

“This is all I could get before I heard Terry’s asshole cronies coming back up the street,” Kev said, gesturing to the bag. “Iggy had to hurry me out before anything got too ugly.”

“Thanks, man,” Sandy said, relaxing a bit more knowing that Mickey would have some things of his own for a while before he found something more stable.

“I’ll bring this upstairs for him,” Kev said as he moved past Sandy and headed for the back staircase that led to the apartment. Sandy watched after him for a moment before heading back to the front door. However, Ian moved first. He stepped in front of Sandy, set on intercepting her escape.

“Sandy, right?” Ian asked, recognizing her from the many photos Mandy had shown him years before.

“Yeah,” Sandy said simply.

“I’m–”

“I know,” she said, cutting him off. It wasn’t hostile or anything, but Sandy didn’t think she should be talking to him right now. Mickey should have been the one to build back the bridge between the Milkovich and Gallagher family, not her.

“I didn’t know he was out,” Ian said, his eyes on the door that Mickey had escaped through.

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when the charges are dropped,” Sandy said. However, she elaborated after a flash of confusion overtook Ian’s face. “Your half-sister had some sort of meltdown in lock up,” Sandy said. “I’m not exactly sure what happened, but it was enough for her to be deemed mentally unstable. The judge figured if she was lying about most things, then she was lying about Mickey trying to kill her,” Sandy said with a shrug. “I picked him up about a week ago.”

“Shit,” Ian said, not surprised that Sammi was unstable, but that the judge had actually approved Mickey’s release.

“Yeah,” she said, just as amused and surprised.

“So, he’s staying here?” Ian asked.

“He can’t go home,” Sandy said with a sigh. “Terry has been on a warpath since Mickey came out. He never got over it and I guess he figured Mickey being in prison was punishment enough. He didn’t like when I came out either so I’m not surprised. Kev and V are letting him stay upstairs until he finds a better place.” Sandy hiked her bag higher up on her shoulder as she shifted on her feet. “Look, I gotta go, but try to talk to him, will ya?”

“It didn’t look like he wanted to talk to me,” Ian said with a frown.

“He’s hurt, Ian,” she said, “but he’s still in love with you. Mickey thought he’d be in there for almost a decade and regardless of who his family is, that isn’t easy. He doesn’t know what to do right now. Please, just give him something to hold onto.”

Ian frowned at that, trying to wrap his head around the fact that Mickey was feeling lost. It wasn’t something he was used to witnessing. Mickey was a rock, his rock and he never thought that something like a quick stint in prison would get to him. Then again, as Sandy said, he had thought he would be locked up for a good chunk of his life and Ian knew how Mickey felt about being isolated.

Mickey needed to be free in every sense of the word and Ian would always try to make that happen for the man who had always loved him unconditionally. However, that meant working through their differences and of course, Ian making up for everything he had said when he was off his medication.

“I’ll try,” he promised Sandy. Satisfied with the answer, Sandy moved past him and shoved out into the warm Southside air, leaving the Alibi behind her.

Lip, who was sipping on a Coke at Ian’s side, moved closer to his younger brother. “Are you going to talk to him?” Lip asked.

Ian sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m going to try,” Ian decided, letting his eyes drift up towards where Mickey was staying, needing to see him.

--------

IAN

Ian waited until the next day before going to speak to Mickey.

He had been up all night trying to figure out what he was going to say. There was a part of him that was angry that Mickey hadn’t called him the second he got out, but he also knew that he had broken up with him and that he didn’t have the right to ask about him anymore. Yet, Ian still loved Mickey with everything he had. He just hoped that Mickey’s feelings hadn’t changed in the short time that he had been locked up.

Even after the few relationships he had been in since Mickey got arrested, none of them would ever compare to Mickey. It didn’t matter who Ian was with or where he was, Mickey was always going to be it. Which is why Ian found himself outside the small apartment above the Alibi just as morning turned to noon. The sound of the old pipes in the cracked walls was only making the rising anxiety in Ian’s chest worse. His hands clenched and flexed at his sides as he forced himself to raise his fist and knock twice on the wooden door.

It was quiet on the other side and Ian was worried that he may have missed him after all. Ian knocked again and then finally heard the sound of footsteps inside the apartment. “Dammit, Kev!” Mickey yelled as he approached the door. “I told you I wasn’t going to bartend for your shitty customers. For fuck’s sa–” Mickey’s sentence cut off as he tore open the door and realized it wasn’t Kev standing in the hallway at all. “Ian,” he said as he stared at the taller man in front of him.

Ian was looking back and he had to take a minute to take Mickey in. He was just as beautiful as the last time Ian had seen him, but he looked stronger. Clearly, Mickey had been taking advantage of the gym in the prison yard. His arms were more defined underneath the long sleeve t-shirt he wore and Ian could even tell that his back and shoulders had more muscle on them than before. Ian couldn’t help but look at Mickey’s chest, knowing the mangled tattoo of his name was just below the thin fabric.

“Hey, Mick,” Ian said, finally finding his voice. He offered Mickey a small smile, but the latter just stared back, breaking out his shock and slipping into a mood that told Ian that something was very wrong.

“The fuck do you want?” Mickey asked. Ian stammered for a second. He knew that Mickey was upset, but they usually always started off as pissed at each other before the reunion turned into a flurry of removing clothes and hands gripping at hair. However, he was realizing that wasn’t how this one was going to go at all.

“You’re out,” Ian observed and Mickey just raised one of his eyebrows at him.

“No shit,” Mickey bit back.

“I just, uh, I wanted to say…” Ian tried, still not sure where he was going with any of it. He had been prepared to speak to Mickey, but he had figured Milkovich was going to be a bit more willing to hear him out. The Mickey before him looked as if he’d rather be throwing his head against a wall than standing in that doorway.

“What?” Mickey asked.

“I don’t know how to put this…” Ian said, the anxious feeling returning to his hands.

“Spit it out, Gallagher,” Mickey said, “I got shit to do. Prison took up a lot of my time.”

“Right,” Ian said. “Well, uh, maybe…”

“Yes?” Mickey urged, shifting on his feet. Ian was looking at him and then he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t say any of the things he had wanted to because Mickey had never looked at him like this. Ian was used to the glares, the smiles, the annoyed little glances whenever Ian would make some dumb joke that Mickey pretended to not find funny. However, now, it was as if Mickey was looking at him, but he had no idea who he was. Ian switched gears quickly.

“Fiona’s gone,” Ian blurted out causing Mickey to narrow his eyes.

“What?”

“Yeah, guess she finally got out of the Southside,” Ian went on. “Looks like she’s one of the lucky few,” Ian said with an attempt at a laugh, but Mickey was not amused. In fact, he seemed even angrier.

“Seriously?” Mickey said with a roll of his eyes. “Damn Gallagher, well I am so glad your life is so fucking interesting,” he said before he slammed the door in Ian’s face. Ian stood there for a second, stunned before he took a few steps back and pushed his hands into his hair.

“Fuck.”

-------

LIP

The next time a Gallagher brother knocked on Mickey’s door, it was not the one that Mickey had been expecting.

“Oh, what the fuck do you want?” Mickey said as he beheld Lip Gallagher at his threshold. Lip was standing there, an unlit cigarette behind his ear which only made Mickey want to punch him even more. He never liked Lip and he had liked him even less after Lip had constantly expressed his dislike of Ian and Mickey’s relationship.

“Ian’s been trying to call you,” Lip said with a pointed look. Mickey knew that and he had been purposely ignoring every call and text for a reason.

“And?” Mickey asked.

“You’re really going to be a dick about this?” Lip challenged.

“About what, Philip?” Mickey asked, using his full name just to annoy him further. “About how I got locked up after trying to stop your crazy bitch of sister with the help of your other crazy bitch of a sister? Who, by the way, never got picked up for helping me shove Sammi in that box. You’re welcome for that considering I could have rolled on her at any moment but I fucking didn’t.”

“You want me to thank you for not ratting out Debbie?” Lip asked, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets.

“Nah, I don’t want shit from you,” Mickey said. “Your brother dumped me before I got my ass shackled so he and I are nothing and you and I don’t owe each other shit.”

“I never liked you,” Lip said, already hating that he had agreed to go and speak to Mickey after Ian had begged him for two days. The only reason he was even standing in that hallway was because of Ian, but even Lip had his limits when it came to Mickey Milkovich.

“Wow, thanks,” Mickey deadpanned.

“But my brother loves you,” Lip went on. “And you make him happy so I need you to call him because whether or not you see it, you’re probably the only person for him and I think I've known that for a while."

“Right,” Mickey scoffed, “so you never said that Ian could always find someone better?” Mickey challenged.

“He told you about that?” Lip asked, surprised, remembering back to that conversation he had with his brother.

“He did,” said Mickey.

“I didn’t get it back then,” Lip said.

“You clearly don’t get it now.”

“He cares about you for some fucking reason, Mickey,” Lip said, trying again for the man in front of him to see some reason.

“Then maybe he should fucking figure it out,” Mickey shot back. “Now, don’t you have some think tank to go smoke some fancy weed in or some shit? Get the fuck out of here.” Mickey slammed the door in Lip’s face just as he had with Ian.

“Dammit,” Lip muttered as he pulled the cigarette from behind his ear and lit it. Placing it between his teeth, he pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to Ian letting him know he had hit and missed with Mickey. He didn’t wait for a reply as he headed back downstairs and out into the cool air of Chicago in search of a meeting for the afternoon.

-----------

DEBBIE

Debbie found Mickey a day later playing pool in the Alibi.

He was just finishing up hustling some drunk hipster when Debbie approached him with Franny at her side. Mickey looked up as the two walked up to him. “Jesus,” he said with a look at Franny, “what are you feedin’ that kid?” he asked.

“Kids grow, Mickey. That’s how it works,” Debbie said with a roll of her eyes.

“Whatever,” Mickey said, turning back to the game. Debbie remained where she was, giving him a pointed look as she kept hold of her daughter. “Can I help you?” Mickey asked, turning back towards her, already tired of the Gallagher bullshit. He already had to stop Frank from breaking into the apartment in the early hours of the morning. He didn’t need Fiona Jr. bothering him right now.

“Why won’t you take Ian’s calls?” she asked.

“Jesus Christ,” Mickey swore, running a hand over his face.

“He needs to talk to you,” Debbie said.

“I’m sure he’ll live,” Mickey said, grabbing his beer from the bar behind him and taking a deep drink.

“I don’t know about that,” she said. “He’s pretty upset.” That made Mickey pause. He set his beer down.

“He taking his meds?” he asked her.

“Do you care?” Debbie challenged which was the wrong thing to do. Mickey glared at her.

“Don’t pull that shit with me,” he warned her. “Answer the fucking question.”

“Yes, he’s on his meds, but he’s still upset you’re ignoring him,” she said.

“Well, he ignored me so now he knows what it feels like to go AWOL,” Mickey said.

“Call him,” Debbie urged.

“No.”

“Mickey.”

“Debbie.” Mickey crossed his arms, staring her down. Franny was silent as she stood next to her mother, confused as to why they were talking to the man in front of her. Debbie glared at him for another moment before scoffing.

“I don’t know what he sees in you,” she shot at him before tugging her daughter away. Mickey watched them leave and Debbie’s words remained in the air around him.

“I don’t know either…” Mickey said quietly to himself before returning his attention to the game and his own thoughts.

---------

CARL

Mickey was out in the alley behind the Alibi when Carl Gallagher showed up dressed in a police cadet uniform.

“You’re a fucking cop now?” Mickey asked as he looked up, taking the cigarette he was smoking from his mouth.

“Almost,” Carl said, stopping in front of Mickey. The last time Mickey had even thought about Carl, the kid was going to some fancy military school or something. If he really thought about it, Mickey never really knew what Carl was up to half the time. There was a time that Mickey thought the kid was going to end up in the joint with him rather than trying to get a badge and service glock.

“Weren’t you supposed to grow up to be a serial killer or some shit?” Mickey asked.

“Things change,” Carl said with a shrug. Mickey nodded at that, returning his attention to his smoke. “You talk to Ian?”

“Nope,” Mickey said.

“Are you going to?” Carl asked.

“Nope,” Mickey repeated. Carl nodded, weighing his options before settling on a new tactic.

“If I handcuffed you and dragged you to the house, would you do it then?” Carl asked nonchalantly.

“You try to put those fucking bracelets on me and I’ll break every bone in your hand,” Mickey said without missing a beat. Carl didn’t retort, he just smiled. Mickey never liked when the Gallaghers smiled, it always meant they were up to something or drunk or both. “What?”

“Nothing,” Carl said with a shrug. “I just missed that Milkovich snark.”

“Whatever,” Mickey said dismissively. Suddenly, Carl’s phone chimed, drawing his attention. Seeing who it was, Carl pocketed it again before turning back to Mickey.

“I gotta go,” he said and Mickey just nodded. “Hey, stop being an asshole and call my brother before he runs out of love ballads to annoy us with.” Carl then left Mickey standing there, more confused than ever.

“Love ballads,” Mickey repeated. “What the fuck?”

-------

KEV AND V

The next ambush came when Mickey was sitting at the bar in the Alibi looking over the books for the Southside establishment.

V set a drink in front of him as she wiped off the bar. “Thanks again, Mickey,” V said. “Since Lana left, we’ve needed someone who’s good with numbers.”

“Not a problem,” Mickey said. “Least I can do considering I’m staying here rent-free, right?” Mickey continued to tap away at the calculator, but soon realized he was being stared at. Glancing up, he saw that Kev and V were both looking at him with innocent expressions on their faces. “What?” Mickey asked, already regretting doing so.

“Ian called us,” V said with a grimace as she set down the rag in her hands.

“Of course he did,” Mickey sighed. “Alright, lay it on me. At this point, I’m waiting for fucking Frank or Kermit to show up at my door at the ginger’s request.”

“What about me?” Kermit said, turning away from Tommy.

“Fuck you, Kermit,” Mickey said as he flipped him off. Kermit just frowned and turned back to his friend. Mickey looked back at the Balls and waited.

“I’m not gonna tell you what to do,” Veronica began.

“Good,” said Mickey, picking up his pen again.

“But,” she went on, “he has been going through a lot.”

“Right, like the two boyfriends and the fancy EMT job?” Mickey scoffed. “Yeah real tough.” V frowned.

“You know that he puts on a façade. Always has,” V reminded him.

“Yeah man,” Kev interjected. “Ian may be smiling with those pearly whites of his, but his heart is actually blue beneath that ugly uniform he wears.”

“That was beautiful,” Tommy added as he eavesdropped. Kev nodded to him in thanks.

“Thank you,” he said with gratitude.

“Kevin,” V said, her tone full of warning. Kev then ducked away, leaving his wife alone with his former business partner. V leaned in then, resting her forearms on the bar. “Maybe just hear him out,” she tried.

“I tried that,” Mickey admitted, grateful to have someone to talk to that wasn’t a Gallagher. “He doesn’t seem to know what the fuck he wants.”

“Do you?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Mickey said softly. Veronica gave him a soft smile as she laid her hand on his arm, giving it a firm squeeze.

“Maybe you should figure that out first.”

---------

LIAM

Mickey was tired and all he wanted was a hot shower and then maybe some free beer from downstairs.

However, like always, he never got what he wanted. Opening the door to the apartment, he nearly jumped out of his skin at the sight of the youngest Gallagher sibling sitting on the couch in the small living room.

“Jesus,” Mickey swore, trying to catch his breath. “How the fuck you get in here?” Mickey asked as he shut the door behind him and took off his coat.

“Veronica let me in,” Liam said patiently.

“Why?” Mickey asked though he could guess why Liam was there. After the rest of his siblings had shown up, it wasn’t a long shot to figure out he would be next.

“I think we should talk,” Liam said, gesturing for Mickey to sit in the chair across from the couch. Mickey, amused, decided to humor the kid and took the seat Liam was offering even though it was Mickey’s house the kid was invading.

“I can’t remember us ever doing that but go on,” Mickey said as he settled in the frayed cushions. Liam was quiet for a moment before he finally nodded and folded his hands in front of him like a grown man in a kid’s body. Mickey still had no idea how he was related to Frank.

“I remember when Ian was going through the worst of his bipolar,” Liam began. “You looked out for me.” Mickey was surprised to know that Liam actually remembered all the things Mickey had done for him when Fiona was too stressed over Ian to look after her baby brother. Mickey would take Liam to the clinic for checkups, always carried him into the house when the boy was too tired to walk, and even made sure he always had something to eat whenever Lip or Fiona forgot to go grocery shopping. He had a soft spot for the smallest Gallagher sibling and he was never too proud to admit it.

“So?” Mickey asked.

“So,” Liam continued, “I’m going to do the same for you.” Liam seemed proud of himself for being the one to actually want to talk to Mickey rather than at him and the latter appreciated that. Mickey paused, eyeing Liam for a second before furrowing his brow.

“Are you sure you’re Frank’s son?” he asked

“Seem to be,” Liam said with a shrug.

“That’s unfortunate,” Mickey said, leaning his forearms on his knees as he leaned forward a bit.

“It’s not so bad,” Liam said. “I got great brothers and sisters out of it.”

“Right,” said Mickey.

“Ian told me about the time you were shot by his old boss,” Liam said suddenly.

“Kash and Grab?” Mickey asked and Liam nodded. Mickey hadn’t thought about that man in years because if he did, all he felt was rage. Lip and Mickey both knew what Kash had been doing to Ian, essentially grooming him, and they both hated it. If anything, it was the one thing that they agreed on.

“Yeah,” Liam nodded. “He was really worried about you.”

“I think he was just worried about getting fired by his viagroid boyfriend’s pissed-off wife,” Mickey rationalized, but Liam disagreed.

“I don’t think so. Other people he’s dated have been hurt or upset and Ian’s never reacted like that with them,” said Liam.

“How are you so observant?” Mickey asked, trying to gauge where Liam’s head was at.

“It’s a big house,” Liam said with another shrug. “People tend to forget that I’m around most of the time.”

“That’s rough,” Mickey said.

“Rough like being ignored by the person you love?” Liam asked and Mickey’s brows ascended towards his hair.

“I needed time,” he said, unsure of why he was having this conversation with a ten-year-old.

“Did you tell him that?” Liam asked.

“I was pretty clear, kid,” Mickey said, leaning back into the chair and propping his leg up on top of the other.

“That might work for other people, but Ian needs a bit more,” Liam explained. “He’s smart, but he doesn’t always pick up on things like the rest of us.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Mickey said, knowing very well how unobservant Ian could be at times.

“I always knew Ian was gay, you know?” Liam continued on.

“Yeah?” Mickey asked.

“Yeah, I mean by the time I was old enough to realize what was going on, he was already out and telling people. Then when you were together, I just figured it was normal for you to be around, and then… then you weren’t,” Liam said with a small frown.

“I was in prison,” Mickey reminded him.

“No, before that,” Liam said. “You would come and go and then just show back up and Ian would be happy again and I liked that for however long it lasted. I know he feels bad for what happened with Sammi. I know he blames himself.”

“It wasn’t his fault,” Mickey said and he meant it. Ian hadn’t asked Mickey to drug Sammi or lock her up in the crate, he had purely done it to protect Ian.

“To him, it was,” Liam divulged. “You brought back his happiness and then you got taken away because Sammi called the police on Ian for something he did. He got better when he got the new job but there was still something missing.”

“Which was what?” Mickey asked as he tugged on his fingers, trying to ignore the hammering in his chest.

“You, Mickey,” Liam said. “You were missing.” Mickey was silent then, letting Liam’s words crash over him like rolling waves. He had always figured that whenever he was in Ian’s life, it was doing more harm than good. Ian made Mickey’s life better, brighter, but Mickey had never realized what his presence had done for Ian’s. Liam, however, had a pretty good idea of what it looked like.

“How are you so damn wise?” Mickey asked him after another moment of silence.

“Must be a Gallagher thing,” Liam said with yet another shrug. Mickey was starting to think that was his go-to thing when he spoke his mind.

“Gallaghers are wise?” Mickey asked, not buying it.

“When we want to be,” Liam said as he got to his feet. He looked down at Mickey and gave him a tight-lipped smile. “I missed you when you went away,” he admitted. “You were one of the only people who took the time to talk to me and I know that Ian missed you too.” Mickey couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride at that.

“So, you’re saying that I should call him?” Mickey asked.

“No,” Liam said with a shake of his head. “You should go see him. After living with my siblings my whole life and seeing all their failed relationships, I’ve realized that these things are better-said face to face.” Liam then approached Mickey and patted him on the shoulder. “Ian has a late shift tonight so he’ll be home all day tomorrow. I’ll try to make sure nobody else needs to be home so you guys can talk.”

Mickey just stared after Liam as he made his way to the door. Just before he turned the handle, Mickey stopped him. “Liam,” he said, gaining the kid’s attention.

“Yeah?” Liam asked with another patient look on his face.

“I never forget you’re there,” Mickey admitted, letting out a breath. Liam simply smiled at him before leaving the apartment and leaving Mickey to his thoughts.

Sitting back in the chair, Mickey ran his hands over his face. “Ian Gallagher, you sneaky son of a bitch.”

---------

The next day, Ian was finally up after sleeping for most of the morning.

The quiet of the house was a nice change of pace, but that meant he was alone with his thoughts and that was not a comforting thought. Just as he was about to find coffee, there was a knock at the door. Hoping it wasn’t Frank, Ian sauntered over and pulled it open.

“That was low, calling in the little brother,” Mickey said in greeting as he beheld a surprised Ian. “That kid is convincing as fuck.” Ian took a step to the side as Mickey pushed past him and into the Gallagher house. He looked around and was thankful that Liam had come through and nobody else was home.

“I had to try something,” Ian said as he shut the door and followed Mickey into the living room. Mickey turned to look at him, trying to figure out how to start. Ian beat him to it though. “I’m so sorry, Mick,” Ian began. “I just left you alone and I never thought about what that would mean besides just breaking up with you.”

“You can’t…” Mickey paused, trying to keep his emotions in check. “You can’t just play with my feelings like that. You can’t just choose when you want to be in love with me or whether I’m worth it or not,” he said, finally getting the words out that he had been mulling over since he saw Ian walk into the Alibi with Lip and Brad.

“I know,” Ian said.

“Do you?” Mickey asked. “Cause I get it. I was an asshole to you when we were just starting out and fuck, I know I fucked up and did some horrible shit.”

“Which I forgave you for,” Ian reminded him. Mickey knew what he was referring to. All the comments about him not caring about Ian, the “warm mouth” moment in the store, and especially when Mickey had beaten Ian up after Terry’s attempt at forced conversion therapy.

“And we worked through it,” Mickey went on. “I came out, I told you that I loved you, and then…”

“And then I got sick,” Ian finished, but Mickey was shaking his head.

“It wasn’t just that," Mickey said. “I felt like because I was trying, you didn’t want me anymore. It was like you preferred it when I was an asshole to you and only using you for sex.”

“I didn’t,” Ian said, taking a step forward. Mickey took one back.

“I don’t believe you,” Mickey said, his voice cracking slightly as his emotions began to win.

“I remember the exact moment I found out about you marrying Svetlana,” Ian began, shifting gears. “Mandy had casually mentioned it at school one day. She didn’t know about us and I had tried not to react, but it broke me to hear that you were marrying the woman who did...that to you. It made me sick. All I wanted to do was run away and take you with me.”

“That’s not how life works,” Mickey said.

“I know, but I still wanted to try,” said Ian. “I tried everything I could to keep you out of my head the second you had me pinned in your room that day but I couldn’t do it. I tried to be with other men, brush you off when it was too hard to keep my hands off you, but you always roped me back in. The day at Ned’s when you kissed me for the first time… Man, I felt like I was on fire. Then after what happened with your dad, I knew that I wouldn’t be able to stay away, but I also knew you were going to shut me out.”

“I had my reasons,” Mickey said, trying to get Ian to understand why he had shut him out.

“I know,” said Ian. “You were doing it to protect me from Terry.” Mickey nodded. “Still, it didn’t stop me from falling in love with you. You never gave up on me even when you wanted nothing to do with me. The night you found me passed outside the Fairytale, on the way home you told me that you’d always be there to pick my ass off the street and you always kept that promise.”

“You remember that?” Mickey asked, surprised Ian could remember anything about his club days. Mickey had said a lot of things in the Uber on the way home, but he didn’t think Ian was even conscious half the time.

“I remember everything you’ve said to me,” Ian said, taking another step and was glad to see that Mickey didn’t retreat this time. “I should have been there when you were locked up.” Mickey nodded, running a hand through his hair.

“I didn’t expect you to fucking live behind that glass wall, but I needed… I needed you and I needed to know if you were okay, Ian,” Mickey admitted, looking at the man in front of him with a near pleading expression. “I had nightmares that you were in a ditch somewhere, out of your mind, while full bottles of pills were still in your room.” Ian grimaced, hating how Mickey had worried about him.

“I didn’t want you to worry, Mick,” he said.

“Tough shit,” Mickey shot back. “That’s what you do when you’re in love.” Ian was startled by that.

“You still love me?” he asked.

“What the fuck do you think?” Mickey asked, incredulously.

“You seemed so angry,” Ian said, reminding him of their last conversation.

“I was,” Mickey said, “and I needed a minute to breathe. Contrary to popular belief, I do care about being in prison and I don’t want to get familiar with those fucking concrete walls. I’d rather not be another frequent flyer Milkovich,” Mickey admitted. “You always say that you need to get your shit together, well it was my turn, Ian.”

“I get that,” Ian said.

“My life ain’t gonna be a carbon copy of Terry’s. I’m gonna be better, I have to be the better man,” Mickey said, unable to stop himself now that he was letting it all out.

“You already are,” Ian said, walking right up to him.

“I can’t go back,” Mickey said, looking up into Ian’s bright and attentive green eyes. “I have to think straight and when I’m with you or not with you… I ain’t gonna survive if you suddenly decide I’m not worth it again.” Ian reached up and took Mickey's face in his hands. Mickey had never outwardly expressed his desire to break the Milkovich mold like this. Ian could hear the fear behind every word and it hurt him to see Mickey like that. He was the strongest man Ian had ever known, but he always admired the strength it took to tell Ian all of this.

“I won’t,” Ian told him. “You are always worth it. Always. I love you, Mickey, and I don’t want to lose you.” Mickey was shaking his head as he placed his hands over Ian’s.

“You never lost me,” Mickey said softly, relaxing under Ian’s touch. “You may have wanted to end things, but I never got rid of us.” He then took Ian’s hand and lowered it to his chest, right on top of the tattoo that remained on Mickey’s heart.

“I’m so sorry,” Ian said again and he was willing to say it as many times as it took for Mickey to hear him. Ian looked into Mickey’s eyes then and saw something that reminded him of something Mandy had once said to him. That look in Mickey’s eyes finally made him relax.

“I’m sorry, too,” Mickey said, reaching up to run his thumb along Ian’s cheekbone.

“For what?” Ian asked, his brow furrowed. Mickey smoothed out the crease between his brows, not letting Ian stress about anything else.

“For not letting you in sooner,” Mickey said. “We could have more, so much more. Fuck, I missed you,” Mickey breathed out as he tugged Ian into him. Their lips met with a warm and firm kiss. Ian threw his arms around Mickey’s pulling him even closer. Mickey savored the feel of Ian Gallagher’s lips on his own as he sighed into the kiss.

Shoving his hands into Ian’s hair, he tugged on it, eliciting a moan from the taller man much to Mickey’s satisfaction. Ian kissed him a few more times before he pulled back, letting his forehead rest against Mickey’s so they could catch their breath. “Tell your family to back off now,” Mickey said with a smile.

“Tell them yourself,” Ian said. “You're moving in with me.”

“Is that so?” Mickey asked as he pushed back a bit so he could see Ian’s face.

“Don’t argue with me, Mr. Milkovich,” Ian said, his fingers playing with the hair at the nape of Mickey’s neck.

“You know I don’t like taking orders. I had enough of that shit in the joint,” Mickey said.

“You never complained before,” Ian said seductively as he ran his hand down Mickey’s stomach and towards his hips. Mickey raised his brows then, leaning into Ian’s hands.

“You are something else, Gallagher,” Mickey said, grateful to be with him once again, “but fuck I love you.”

“Then come here,” Ian urged as he reached for Mickey’s belt. Looking at Ian’s face, his expression filled with not just lust but love as well, Mickey melted beneath Ian’s gaze and finally felt as if he was free for the first time since getting out.

“Fuck it,” he swore as he tugged Ian in close. “Yes, Sir.” Ian grinned as he wrapped himself around Mickey again, letting everything between them solidify as they had found their way back to each other once again.

#Gallavich #Shameless #Ian x Mickey #shameless #Ian Gallagher #Ian Gallagher x Mickey Milkovich #Mickey Milkovich #Gallavich Fics

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onlysarah235678 · 3 years

Text

A Little Bit Part 17

Pairing: Billie Dean Howard x female reader

A/N: Hi there! I hope everyone has survived this week of storms and everything else. ❤️. Angst in the beginning of this one. I’m wrapping things up but we still have some loose ends to tie up….LOOK AT THIS GIF. 😍

Warnings: angst, mentions of domestic abuse, mention of attempted sexual assault (I did the thing with the *** again).

You and Billie take Milo on a longer walk than you usually would at this time of day. It was almost dark, so there weren’t many people around making the walk a quiet one. You wouldn’t admit it, but you were dragging your feet a little to buy yourself some time. You intend on keeping your promise to Billie by telling her what was bothering you, but you keep doubting your decision.

Billie had told you that she didn’t care about your baggage. At the very least, she’d said that it wouldn’t change her feelings for you. Still, you hate to bring the issue up again because it seems like it’s been forever since you two just had a conversation about something nice, casual, and not stressful. You can’t remember the last time you two went out on a date, and you hate how tense and stressful everything is between you.

Maybe it was just your insecurities, but you sigh as you and Billie come up on the end of the neighborhood. You’re probably going to turn around soon, if Milo would stop peeing.

“What’s on your mind, sweetheart?”

You feel some of your anxiety melt away at that familiar term of endearment, and you turn toward Billie with a small smile. You squeeze her hand before shaking your head in refusal. You don’t really want to talk about this now because you are almost certain you’ll be crying for at least some of this conversation. Still, you don’t want to leave Billie hanging so you tell her the truth. At least as much of it as you’re willing to at the moment.

“I’m just thinking about everything that’s happened in the past few months. How much has changed.”

Billie doesn’t respond immediately. She watches how you turn back around, heading for home, with a faraway look. It seems more contemplative than anything else, but Billie can’t figure out what you’re trying to say.

“Good and bad?”

You smile as Milo leads the three of you back to Billie’s. He’s eager for his treat because he picks up the pace a little, but you just hold his leash tighter so he doesn’t drag you. You’re not really in the mood for that tonight.

“Yes, luckily more good than bad recently.”

You shoot Billie a charming smile that she practically melts at. She pulls you towards her so you’re close enough to kiss, and you laugh as you practically fall into the medium.

You mean what you say. That more good things have happened to you than bad. Unfortunately, the bad is starting to catch up with you due to your failure to deal with anything that really bothers you. You shut it out and you’re learning quickly that this is not a good thing. You know you need to work on this, but you’re just not sure how. How do you come to terms with things that are over and done with? Things that you hate to talk about?

Billie waits patiently as you find your next words. You look to Milo with a smile. He’s looking back at you and Billie occasionally, as if making sure that you’re still there. You are once again reminded of how much your dog means to you, and how much he’s helped you these past few months.

“Things just started stacking up, you know? I didn’t deal with how my ex made me feel, and then my dad’s death, and now with this asshole I don’t even really know? It just seems like at this point it’s all too overwhelming. That I’m better off ignoring it.”

You can feel Billie about to respond to this, so you beat her to it with a sigh of defeat.

“I know I'm not, Billie. I just. I don’t know how to deal with it.”

You wait for what feels like years as Billie considers what you’re saying. She can’t really pretend like she knows how you feel, or what your logic is for not dealing with your problems. Having so many traumatic things happen in such rapid succession can leave anyone a little dazed and unsure of how to proceed. All she knows is what you told her, so Billie tries not to assume anything as she finally shoots you a smile.

You don’t notice because you’re too busy looking around for something. Billie doesn’t realize this until you fail to respond, or even acknowledge what she’s said after a few seconds.

“Well, what is it that makes you want to deal with it now?”

You’re too busy staring at a car that looks familiar to realize that Billie’s responded. You walk past the car that you swear was about a block away from Billie’s when you left before you look back to the medium. You see that she’s looking at you expectantly, and suddenly it clicks that you’ve missed something. You apologize before looking back over your shoulder with a frown.

“Sorry, I just—does that car look familiar to you? I feel like I’ve seen it multiple times on this walk already.”

You know it’s possible that there is more than one gold SUV in this neighborhood, but you can’t help but be a little paranoid. Billie frowns too as she looks to the car that they just passed. She honestly hadn’t been paying much attention to anything other than you and Milo. Mostly what you said and what she could sense from you. She shakes her head before turning back to you, and telling you the truth.

“Sorry, Y/N. I haven’t really been paying attention.”

You just nod at this before you decide that you’re just being paranoid. You continue down the street and you’re almost to Billie’s before you realize that you hadn’t asked what Billie had said at all.

“Wait, what were you saying earlier? I got distracted by potential stalkers.”

Billie just smiles at you as she shakes her head and turns to look at the dog that is coming your way. She watches as you hold Milo’s leash tighter and steer him in the other direction as he spots the dog and immediately starts tugging.

“Milo, knock it off.”

He listens, sort of, and you only have to move him to your other side, in between you and Billie for him to calm down.

“It’s okay. We can talk about it when we get back.”

You take this as an excuse to put it off again, so you simply nod before allowing your mind to wander.

Before you know it, you’re back at Billie’s and you’re taking care of Milo while Billie checks on the cats. It’s only 8 pm but you’re exhausted and could sleep now. You leave Milo in the living room as you head upstairs to take a shower. You go check on Billie first and you smile as you peek your head into the laundry room to see her sitting next to the kittens. As usual Bit barely acknowledges your presence.

“Hey, I’m going to shower, do you need anything?”

Billie just smiles at you and shakes her head. You’re not surprised to see that she’s holding Mickey and you smile at the adorable sight before leaving with a sigh. You can feel your headache coming back just at the thought of the conversation you started on the walk. You could just drop it and worry about it tomorrow, but you wanted to be honest. You also wanted someone to tell you that you were being ridiculous.

As you take off your clothes, find a towel and turn on the shower you think about how irrational you’re being. You have only run into Doug maybe half a dozen times since you moved to LA. You realized that you both like to go on early morning walks, in your case with Milo, every day and you at least saw each other maybe every other week. That wasn’t a big deal, and you knew it, but since you started dating Billie, you’d learned what a homophobic asshole he was. You almost felt like he sought you out sometimes, but that was ridiculous.

Right?

You think back to the last time you saw Doug, before he pushed you down the stairs. It had been in the mail room and he’s muttered a slur under his breath before leaving. He hadn’t touched you then, but clearly that hadn’t stuck. You think about how easy it should be to avoid him and how there was no real reason to be afraid.

As you’re standing in the shower trying to convince yourself that Doug isn’t a threat, you realize why you’re so fixated on this. Why you’re giving someone who doesn’t deserve a second thought, so much of your time and energy.

You groan under your breath at your own stupidity. Then you curse yourself for not knowing where to go from here, despite knowing what you need to do.

Why did life have to be so hard?

By the time you’re out of the shower your headache is back full-force. You groan as you manage to change clothes before you have to sit down on the bed. You close your eyes and just try to relax and will away your headache, but your head is still pounding almost 10 minutes later. You lie down on the bed and groan under your breath. You don’t realize how long you lay there until you almost fall asleep.

Milo gets bored downstairs and decides to come and look for either you or Billie. Since Billie was still with the kittens, he finds you first and he hurriedly pushes his way into the room and over to you. He starts pawing at your arm and you groan again before turning away from him.

“No, Milo stop! Go away.”

You hope that this will be enough to get your dog to leave you alone, but really you know Milo better than that. He sits down and whines loudly before he decides to take matters into his own hands. He circles the bed and jumps up on to it, jostling you and making your head throb annoyingly. You open your eyes to glare at him when he starts to lick your face.

“No! Bad Milo. Get down!”

Milo whines but he listens to you, and is on the ground by the time Billie is coming into the room. She looks inside, immediately seeing you curled up on the bed with your head under a pillow and Milo looking pitiful from where he sits on the floor just staring at you.

“Are you alright?”

You don’t have the energy to turn and face Billie and that really tells her all that she needs to know. Still, she cuts off the lights and walks towards the bed with a frown. You sigh before you chance a look out from under the pillow to see that Billie has turned off the lights. You know you shouldn’t be, but you’re surprised by this. Eventually you wave Billie off ineffectively.

“My head hurts, but it’s okay. I just need to lie here.”

Billie doesn’t say anything for a little while. She does some math in her head, realizing that you just took your meds before looking to Milo when he whines. She watches you flinch slightly at the sound and she makes the decision to take him off your hands.

“Other than taking Milo, is there anything I can do for you?”

You smile at this before removing the pillow from you face and turning so you are looking at Billie. You shake your head before regretting it instantly and cringing at your stupidity.

“That’s more than enough, thank you. I really think I just need to sleep it off.”

Billie doesn’t argue with you and she just leaves hoping that you’ll feel better sooner rather than later. She takes Milo downstairs with her, and gives him a treat when he sits down in the living room. She tries getting some work done, but she’s distracted and not worried enough about the interview to really focus. She’ll have all day tomorrow, not that she needed it, so she closes her computer before looking to Milo.

He’s licking his paws clean, but he looks up at Billie when she stands. He’s quick to get up too as Billie walks to the kitchen to get something to drink. She drinks most of a glass of wine standing at the counter as she stares out the window. It’s dark so she can’t see anything really, but she looks to where she knows the garden is, and wonders who would have snuck back there.

She’s afraid that she knows who it is, or at least why they were back there and she sighs in defeat. She considers how likely it is that you will continue to be bothered. She hopes that the novelty wears off soon, but there’s really no telling at this point. Billie just hopes that they leave you alone at least until you are feeling better.

Billie finishes her wine and cleans the kitchen before glancing at the clock. It’s a little early for her to sleep, but she figures she’ll walk Milo one last time and then check on the cats before going to bed. She would have to check on you too, but she was certain you were asleep at this point.

You are upstairs failing to sleep when your phone goes off from somewhere in the room. You groan, not sure of where you’d left it, and you are tempted to ignore it until it continues to vibrate. You sit up in bed forcing your eyes open as you scan the room. It is completely dark except for the dim light of your phone in the middle of the floor. Why had you left it there?

You sigh in relief when it finally stops vibrating, but you decide that you need to get it in case it starts again. You throw the covers that you’d managed to crawl under off of you before swinging your legs off to the side of the bed. You don’t bother standing up, you just drop to your knees before crawling towards you phone. You’re glad you’re alone because this probably looks as weird as it is, but you get your phone without aggravating your headache too much.

You silence it and carry it back with you before putting it on the side table. You groan under your breath as you simply close your eyes and just wait until you summon the energy to crawl back into bed. You glance at your phone realizing it is already 10, and you just hope that Billie will take care of Milo because you are not about to go downstairs to walk him.

You are almost asleep when Billie comes to check on you a little while later.

After taking care of the kittens and walking Milo, Billie gets ready for bed. She decides to leave Milo downstairs for the night, and he doesn’t seem to mind as he gets settled in the living room. She glances to your door before retreating into her room. She changes clothes, brushes her teeth and washes her face before she looks to her bed. She wants to check on your before sleeping, so she sneaks down the hall and opens the door as quietly as possible.

She looks in and sees that you’re under the covers and appear to be asleep. She turns to leave, starting to shut the door until she hears you shift and groan under your breath.

“Billie?”

Billie releases her hold on the door before she speaks as quietly as possible.

“Hi, Y/N. I was just checking to see if you needed anything?”

You don’t respond immediately, and you just sigh before shifting so you’re closer to the middle of the bed. You stifle a yawn as you speak up just loudly enough for Billie to hear.

“Yes, please. Come sit?”

Billie realizes that you’re making room for her and she sighs before walking further into the room. She shuts the door behind her before coming to stand at the side of the bed, watching as you throw back the covers for her.

“Are you sure there’s nothing you need? Water or--?”

You just shake your head before patting the bed with a yawn. “Nope. Just you.”

Billie sighs in defeat as she simply nods before getting into bed next to you. She’s careful not to jostle you too much, but as soon as she’s lying under the covers, you’re moving closer to her. You wrap your arms around her tentatively before you peer up at her with a curious look that’s lost on her due to the darkness.

“Is this okay?”

Billie just smiles before telling you that it’s fine, so you lie down with your head on her shoulder before you close your eyes.

Billie is near sleep when you speak up again. She opens her eyes in surprise because she was certain that you had fallen asleep. She hadn’t expected you to speak so suddenly and she jumps slightly before turning to see that you’re looking at her. It’s too dark to really make out your expression, but Billie guesses that you’re frowning based on what you said.

***

“I never told you what was bothering me.”

Billie starts to shake her head but then realizes you may not notice. Your eyes are closed and you are still curled up against Billie as you fight off your headache. You open them slightly and even though there isn’t a lot of light coming in from the window, it’s enough to irritate you.

“You don’t have to tell me, Y/N. It’s late.”

Billie waits as you figure out how you want to respond. You don’t say anything immediately. You just sigh as you try to get move comfortable, and turn so you’re able to see Billie’s face. At least the little bit of it that’s visible.

“I know. I just don’t want you to be mad.”

Billie isn’t sure what to say to this at first and decides to wait until you elaborate. You don’t however so she just asks the obvious question.

“Why would I be mad?”

You take a deep breath before you move away a little so you can see Billie without being on top of her. You don’t realize that she takes this the wrong way. You’re too worried about not saying the wrong thing.

“I want to tell you what she did so you understand why I’m like this. I just don’t want you to be mad.”

Billie frowns at this and opens her mouth to say something, but you beat her to it. You need to speak up before you lose your nerve. You frown at the thought of what happened earlier tonight. You hate how just talking to Billie had somehow reminded you of her. She and Billie couldn’t be more different, but you supposed it couldn’t be helped. You could only do better.

“She used to yell at me for apologizing too much. She’d tell me I was worthless because I was too soft.”

You close your eyes, missing Billie’s look as you try to block out the memories of all the fights you used to have. Maybe you had been too soft. You’d stopped fighting against her because arguing seemed useless, and eventually you’d run instead of trying to figure things out. Not that you believed you could have. Billie on the other hand, is thinking back to your conversation in the kitchen and how your demeanor had changed so suddenly. Had she done something to make you think of your ex?

“I’m not telling you so you feel bad, for me. I’m just realizing that with the whole thing that happened with Doug, not dealing with how she made me feel isn’t an option.”

Billie had been waiting for you to say this. Since she’d asked you on the walk with Milo why you were wanting to figure this out now. It was less of a mystery to Billie now given what you’ve told her, but she wanted to know your intentions, and if she could help.

“I just have some things I need to unlearn.”

Billie is quiet for a while as she considers what you could be talking about. You yawn and close your eyes again, feeling sleepier now that you’re nice and comfortable. You don’t realize how Billie’s deep in thought until she speaks up. You’re so shocked by what she says that you nearly sit up.

“When Milo interrupted us in the kitchen…was that because of something your ex did?”

You had not been expecting Billie to bring this up. Sure you’d explained to Billie why Milo had reacted the way he had, but you suppose you hadn’t told her exactly what had happened. You’d mentioned being pushed around. You hadn’t wanted to tell Billie all of the details.

Now; however, Billie was asking for clarification and you wanted to give it to her. It just meant that you had to talk about something you hadn’t told anyone.

This probably needed to change.

“Yes. She um-we were fighting and she shoved me onto the counter and-.”

You trailed off as you recall what happened that day. You’d been out with some friends for too long, and the two of you had gotten into a yelling match. It quickly turned physical and you found yourself pinned beneath her.

You don’t notice how you start to fidget, and your hands go to your hair as you clear your throat.

“She tried to force herself on me, but Milo scared her off.”

You briefly wonder where your dog is before your attention is brought back to Billie. She reaches out for one of the hands that is currently tugging at your hair with a questioning look. You meet her the rest of the way and sigh in relief when she pulls you closer.

“I’m sorry if that, or anything else I’ve done has made you uncomfortable. If I ever do something you don’t like, tell me. I won’t be offended.”

You shake your head immediately because you didn’t want this. You don’t want Billie to apologize for doing something that you’d wanted. You hadn’t been thinking about anything but Billie when Milo had interrupted you two. You’d been surprised that he reacted the way he did because honestly other than that one similarity, there was nothing else about that encounter that resembled what happened with your ex.

“Billie, no. You don’t have to apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong, or that I didn’t like.”

You sigh as you run your fingers over Billie’s absentmindedly as you play with her nails.

“It’s—it wasn’t the same. I’m not sure why Milo reacted that way, and…”

You take a deep breath, fighting the blush you know will appear at your next words. It’s dark enough that Billie won’t see it, but you’re sure she can hear it as you stutter slightly.

“The way you tease me is only in a way I-um like, and I love every second of it.”

Billie only manages a weak smile at this. She’s too busy thinking about how so many of the things she’s done or said to you could have been triggering. Initially, she hadn’t thought your shyness was due to anything other than your personality. She hadn’t considered you’d been hurt and that you were reluctant to trust people. Billie suddenly felt awful for somehow not realizing this sooner.

Billie sighs and you frown when you realize that she’s not cutting herself any slack. This is what you’d been worried about. You didn’t want Billie to beat herself up over this. She hadn’t done anything wrong.

“Just—please. If I ever do anything that’s out of line, let me know?”

You nod immediately before leaning forward to kiss Billie’s cheek. You smile, sincerely hoping that she catches a glimpse of it before you sigh and squeeze Billie’s hand tightly.

“You’ve been so sweet, and so considerate with me Billie. I feel so lucky and I know you may think it’s a big deal, but sometimes I’m okay with being bossed around. If it’s the right person and you’re kind, which you are.”

You stop rambling abruptly and take a deep breath before everything that you’d said registers. You’re slightly mortified by that last bit, but you don’t get a chance to think too much about it before Billie just laughs breathily and nods more to herself than to you. She leans in to kiss your forehead and then your nose before sighing in relief.

Okay, good. But, Y/N--.”

You already know what she’s going to say, so you cut her off with a kiss. You move closer to her so she can wrap her arms around your waist and pull you against her. You sigh in contentment before nodding with a small smile.

“Yes, I will tell you if I don’t like something, Billie. I promise.”

***

When you wake up the next morning, you forget where you are for just a second. Despite all of the convincing you’d done yesterday, mostly to yourself, you’d had a dream about Doug. You’d been in your apartment with Milo, and it had been a normal day. The dream had promptly ended when you’d woken up after answering the door to see Doug standing there with that same damn scowl of his.

You look around as you sit up with a groan. The bed is empty and you lie back down when your head pounds painfully. You’re parched and need to drink something, but you’re too lazy to get up. You settle back into bed, only having a few seconds to wonder where Billie is before the bedroom door opens.

You’re convinced that Billie is able to read your mind when you see that she’s brought two cups of something with her. You smile as you take the cup of coffee that is mostly milk, before kissing Billie in thanks. She smiles at you before moving to sit beside you. You sit up, careful not to spill before draining half the cup.

“You’re my favorite, did you know that?”

Billie laughs in response as she places her cup on the side table before scooting closer to you. She eyes you curiously but you miss it as you turn to put your cup down with a smile. You turn back to Billie when she places a hand on your thigh.

“Your favorite what?”

Your smile turns down slightly as you think about this, but it quickly widens as you shrug in faux disinterest. There’s a lot you could say but instead you decide to be sincere as you place a hand on top of Billie’s. You play with one of her rings before you meet her gaze with a smile.

“My favorite person, probably. You’ve been such a huge help and I’m just really grateful.”

You look away slightly embarrassed by what you say, but Billie stops you with a hand on your cheek. She’s smiling as she runs her fingers along you jaw before shaking her head.

“You deserve it, Y/N. I hope you know that.”

You roll your eyes, about to argue in some way but Billie cuts you off before you can even get a word out. You don’t feel like arguing once Billie’s lips touch yours and you sigh before leaning into the medium. Her hand moves to the back of your head to tangle in your hair as you kiss Billie harder. You groan as Billie tugs on your hair a little, and you turn so you’re closer to her. You don’t get a chance to reach out for her before Billie’s moving away from you.

You frown and you’re about to ask what’s wrong before Billie speaks up. Her hand falls from your hair and moves to your cheek again, Billie’s shooting you a concerned look as she runs her thumb along your bottom lip.

“How are you feeling?”

You smile slightly before your brow furrows in confusion. You’re used to Billie checking in with you, but it seems a little early for her. Usually she wouldn’t ask until you two got a little further along in what you were doing, but as you search Billie’s face for an explanation you realize that you are overlooking something that was fairly important.

“Um, I’m fine, how are you feeling?”

Billie realizes that you don’t really understand what she’s asking so she drops her hand into her lap.

“Your head, Y/N.”

Your eyes widen before you nod in confirmation. You smile before closing the gap between you and Billie again with another nod.

“Yes! It’s much better. I promise.”

You wait until Billie’s skeptical look disappears, and you smirk when she sighs in defeat. You move so you’re practically in Billie’s lap before she speaks up.

“You promise?”

You nod enthusiastically before leaning back in to kiss Billie. She doesn’t let you take lead for long and you just smile as she grabs your hips and pulls you into her lap. You resist the urge to groan as her fingernails dig into the sensitive skin at your waist. You sigh as Billie parts your lips and your hands immediately find her hair. You ignore the voice at the back of your mind telling you to take it easy. You’ve been here for three days and you and Billie hadn’t done more than kiss in passing.

You were recovering, sure, but that doesn’t stop your libido from rearing it’s head. In fact, it seems that spending time with Billie like this and getting to see her all the time has the opposite effect. Not that you expected anything else. You loved spending time with Billie, but you hated that you couldn’t do anything other than sit around.

You supposed this didn’t exactly count as just sitting around.

Your hold on Billie’s hair tightens as the blonde’s hands start to wander. You are too distracted by Billie’s hands sneaking under your shirt to hear Milo immediately. Billie just chooses to ignore him because he’s been fed and walked. All he really wants now is attention. You hiss at the feeling of Billie’s hands sliding up your back, but you jump when Milo stops whining and decides to scratch at the door. You groan as you turn away from Billie to glare at the closed door. You don’t move because you’re not about to leave now. Milo can entertain himself for a while.

“Milo, no! Go away.”

Milo continues to scratch at the door, and you groan before shouting at him again. He stops but continues to whine, but you roll your eyes and just turn back to Billie. You smile before shifting your weight on Billie’s lap as you lean towards her again.

“He can take care of himself for a little bit.”

Milo sits at the door waiting for you to open it for a couple of minutes before giving up. Mostly, he is distracted by the sound of someone coming up the stairs. He turns and sees Bit grooming herself. The two of them had mostly avoided each other because Bit didn’t want anything to do with Milo. So she eyes him warily as she cleans her coat just down the hall from him. Since Milo didn’t have any luck with you, he decides to go see if Bit wants to play with him.

Once Milo left you and Billie alone, the two of you had picked up right where you left off. You’re shirtless and horizontal by the time that you hear Bit yowling and hissing from the hallway. You curse under your breath as you sit up quickly and hurry to jump off the bed. Billie is right behind you when you open the door to the sound of Bit hissing loudly at Milo who is crouched down in his play bow in front of the cat. Bit however, is having none of it, and she hisses at him as he tries to get closer to her.

“Milo! Hey, come here.”

You hurry to pull Milo away from Bit who has her back arched and looks like she wants to claw the shit out of him. Luckily, Milo turns to you when you call his name and he bounds over to you. He jumps scratching you and you yell at him before telling him to sit.

“Ow! Milo no! Sit down.”

Once Milo is out of the way Bit runs to the laundry room to escape. It’s not open so Billie goes to let her in while you take Milo back to Billie’s room. You tell him to sit as you find your shirt and get dressed. You don’t find it immediately, and Billie returns before you manage to pull it back on. You sigh once you’re finally dressed and you shoot Milo a glare before smiling at Billie.

“I guess I’m up now.”

It’s lunch time before you and Billie have a moment of peace. Milo has decided to be a demon today, and Billie got stuck on calls for work that she hadn’t been expecting. She didn’t have too much to do in terms of preparing for Friday. It was really just another couple of interviews, one in the morning and one late at night, if you understood correctly.

You didn’t have much to do either. You didn’t work until Monday, but Milo was causing you more trouble than usual. He was being a brat and not leaving you alone until you took him outside. After the third time you told him that he was staying put until after lunch. He did not like this and started whining loudly. You didn’t want him disturbing Billie so you cave and take him outside again. This time, you go to the backyard to get him to calm down and to get some fresh air. You’re surprised by how sunny it is outside until you remember that you had been wearing sunglasses for the last two times you walked Milo. Your headache had come back and the only way to make walking him tolerable was to wear them.

You let Milo wander around the yard while you lie down in one of the chairs on the deck. You watch Milo carefully, but he hasn’t shown much interest in going beyond Billie’s yard. Still, you call him over after a few minutes and he comes to lie down next to you after planting a messy kiss on your cheek. You groan before scratching his muzzle and then squishing his ears.

“Are you feeling better now? Less bratty?”

Milo only licks you again before resting his head on your stomach. It doesn’t look super comfortable how he’s sitting, but you don’t protest as you lie back and stretch out your legs with a yawn. You definitely could fall asleep here if you’re not careful.

Billie sighs as she finally hangs up the phone after almost an hour of talking to her producer. She hadn’t expected this call and she was a little ticked. She needed a break from work for a while to cool off. She looks at the clock and sees that it is almost 1. She didn’t realize how late it was and now she’s annoyed for another reason.

Billie had been planning on eating with you, maybe even going out, but she figured you already had lunch. It had been about an hour since she’d seen you last.

Billie sighs as she stands up to search for you, but once she steps into the kitchen, she immediately sees Milo on the deck. She walks towards the back door and finally sees you lying in one of the chairs. Your eyes are closed making Billie think that you are probably asleep, so she opens the door quietly.

Milo notices her first of course and his tail starts to wag as he stands up to greet her. Billie smiles reaching out for him as she sneaks a peek at you, confirming that you are definitely asleep. You look comfortable all stretched out and Billie was tempted to leave you to rest.

You woke up, unsurprisingly, when Milo whined from beside you. You groan softly as you open your eyes, quickly covering them when you realize you were still outside.

“Tired?”

You turn suddenly at the sound of Billie’s voice, and you see her sitting in the chair next to you with Milo sitting between you. You smile before sitting up and shaking your head. Despite this, you yawn but ignore Billie’s look before asking how her calls went.

“Billie, hi. How did it go? Are you done?”

Billie sits up as well as she turns toward you with a sigh. She was tired, but she got most of the work she needed to do today done. You smile at this and you stand up and move to sit next to Billie. You consider sitting closer, but settle down beside her before responding.

“That’s great. So you have most of the afternoon off?”

You can’t help but smile widely as you ask this, and Billie of course, sees right through you. She laughs before pretending to think about this for a moment. She knows her answer already and is certain that you do too, but she looks to Milo briefly before making a contemplative noise.

“Hmm I’m not sure. I might be able to find more work to do.”

You pout at this and decide to see if you can convince Billie to find something better to do than work. You slide onto Billie’s lap and wrap your arms around her neck with a dramatic sigh.

“Billie, come onnn. There has to be something more exciting you can do. If you really don’t have to work…”

You shoot Billie a pleading look and the medium just smirks as she pulls you closer. You lean in to kiss her, but she turns away last minute making you pout yet again. You don’t frown for long though before Billie finally asks you what you had in mind.

“I guess I don’t have to, but what could possibly be more exciting than work?”

You kiss Billie’s cheek before looking around the backyard briefly. You weren’t too worried about being seen because Milo would probably warn you if you were no longer alone. So you just shrug before leaning in for a proper kiss. Your smile widens when Billie doesn’t turn away this time.

“I’m sure we can think of something.”

It was almost 3 pm before you and Billie got around to eating lunch. You were already thinking take out when Billie speaks up. She’s standing at the counter pouring the two of you glasses of water while you sit on the couch with Milo at your feet.

“What do you want to do for lunch? I was thinking we would go out, until we got sidetracked.”

You smile and turn to Billie as she says this. You thank her as you take one of the glasses before moving over so she can sit down. She smiles in thanks as you pick up your phone again to show Billie what you were looking at.

“Ah, right. Maybe we can just order in and go out another time?”

You turn to Billie who watches as you grab your phone before nodding. She thinks about when the best time for this would be. Given that she’s so busy tomorrow she doesn’t want to promise anything. However, she knows that she may need to destress after the interviews and her favorite way to relax was spending time with you.

“How about we go out tomorrow after I finish up working, if I’m not too exhausted?”

You turn to Billie with a surprised look. You are certain that you will be exhausted the time Billie finishes working tomorrow. One of her interviews was at night, and you liked staying up sometimes, but you’re not sure you want to stay up that late.

“Uhh, won’t you be working until midnight?”

Billie laughs at this before shaking her head. She now understands your bewildered look, but she just smiles before clarifying what tomorrow will look like.

“No, sweetheart. We’re filming that interview in the afternoon. It won’t really be live.”

You nod as realization dawns on you and you almost sigh in relief. You love spending time with Billie, but you’re not sure you could commit to anything after midnight.

“Okay. Well then sure. If you’re up to it.”

You both spend a few minutes talking about what to order for lunch before planning tomorrow night. Since you’re not sure if Billie is going to be in the mood to go out, you decide on a place that doesn’t require reservations. Billie asks you if there is anywhere you would like to go. You don’t know many places that you would want, and since Billie knows more about the area you suggest that she chooses.

“Well, we could go somewhere that allows dogs.”

You’re a little caught off guard by this and you shoot Billie a confused look. You turn to Milo before looking back to Billie with a small smile.

“You want Milo to come with us? On a date?”

Billie simply shrugs before saying why not. She likes Milo and has a feeling he’d be well behaved. Also, she didn’t want him staying at home alone with the cats for too long. When Billie says this, you smile in understanding before trying to think of a way that you could make him staying here work. Just in case Billie didn’t really want him tagging along. You of course thought of several reasons why having him would be beneficial, but you keep those to yourself for now.

“Are you sure, Billie? We can figure something else out.”

Billie just smiles again before shaking her head. She reaches out for your hand before glancing at Milo who is looking at you like he always is.

“I want you to be comfortable, Y/N, and I also don’t want you worrying about him. If that means we’re forced to have a handsome escort for our date, well, I think I can live with that.”

You laugh at this before shaking your head in disbelief. You’re not sure how you managed to get so lucky after your last relationship, and you don’t think you’ll ever stop wondering. You squeeze Billie’s hand before nodding in agreement. You’re sure you will enjoy it either way, but you are glad that Billie seems sincere when she says that she doesn’t mind the third wheel.

“Okay. Thank you, Billie.”

She just smiles before kissing you soundly. You eventually pull away when your phone buzzes, but you don’t bother looking at it as you turn to Milo with a smile. Billie just rolls her eyes with an amused chuckle before pulling you back towards her.

“Get cleaned up Milo, you need to look nice for our date tomorrow.”

Part 18

#american horror story #ahs #ahs fic #ahs imagine #ahs murder house #my fic #billie dean howard imagine #billie dean howard x reader #billie dean howard #a little bit #WHY IS THIS STORY SO LONG #😭

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