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#milkovich!reader
2knightt · 6 months
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「 you the cutest jailbird i ever did see!」
IN WHICH—you’re literally mickey milkovich!♡ ໋֢ 👒✧
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🍵ヾFT. THE GREASERS࿐ྀུ ♡
⌗ 👒 notes !𖥔༌ ᰷ ﹅ this is platonic. and if you haven’t seen shameless just imagine a modern, stinky dallas. also MARRY FUCKING CHRISTMAS!!!
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you met them while running from the cops. sure—it was completely your fault and you do deserve to be thrown into the cooler. but you just got out! can’t a person want just a few more minutes of peace?
as soon as you heard those sirens, you jumped off the guys you and your cousins were jumping and just started running. those two idiots already got caught, you just kept on running.
you heard that the curtis house doesn’t ever lock their door—stupid. you’d never do that, not when people like you run around this city!
the sirens got closer, and without thinking, you jumped their fence. as your feet touched the ground, you hoped to god that they weren’t home. or that dallas winston wasn’t there.
you rushed to the door, swinging in open before hiding beside their couch that sat in front of the window. peeking your head up, you watched as the cop car slowed down before speeding back off.
a grin grew on your face as you watched the cops go in the other direction.
“fuckin’ idiots.”
“wow, y/n getting chased by the cops. what is it, the 30th time this week?”
you’ve had unfortunate run-ins with dallas. but you thought his voice was more annoying now than when you and your cousins jumped him for trying to hit on your sister.
you’d recognize that disgusting new york accent from anywhere. you sighed, turning your head to face him as he stood above you, hands in his jean pockets.
dallas had a stupid grin on his face as who, you think is soda, comes rushing beside him. his eyes showed worry, but his grin made him look interested in you.
“shoot, what happened to you?”
“soda—this is y/n. what ain’t they done is a better question.”
you rolled your eyes, holding back from socking him in the jaw. you turned your head to face soda, standing up from your position. rubbing your neck, you hung your head low.
“tough shit, man. bunch of assholes—you know.”
suddenly, someone with cake smeared all over his fingers and who smelled like oil popped up out of nowhere. ‘steve’ was written on the chest of his ripped up work uniform.
“that can mean a lotta things. what kinda tough shit?”
‘jesus, the curtis group asks a lot of questions.’ you thought to yourself, a lip raised. dallas kicked the leg of the couch beside you, causing you to whip your head up after avoiding eye contact. sodapop smacked dallas’ shoulder, telling him off.
“answer ‘em, y/n.”
dallas demanded, saying your name is a singing tone.
“…me and my cousin’s has jumped a guy. it ain’t nothin’ bad like stabbing a kid with a blade.”
you mumbled, dusting yourself off, you heard snickers leave steve and soda’s throats. soda grinned, ear to ear as he ushered you to sit down at a table. as he did so—he kept on asking you a bunch of jumbled questions due to how fast he’s talking.
four boys sat there, staring at the situation that had just unfolded. they both looked younger than everyone else did, the two older ones standing out like sore thumbs. one was finishing his plate, the other one downing a bottle of beer.
soda sat you down, steve rushing behind the both of you. either of them sat beside you, smiles on their face.
“what’d the guy do?”
“did you beat ‘em black and blue?”
“what’d you use?”
with that, you found yourself hanging around the two of them more. sodapop and steve found your company fun. sure, you were like dallas, but different in so many ways.
you were so comforting to be around, yet you always had a scowl. they loved having you around, causing the gang to hang out with you too.
you honestly became a reoccurring person in the gang—to the point where people would ask where you were if you weren’t around them.
you’d just walk into the curtis house and make yourself comfortable. your house wasn’t exactly the definition of ‘ideal.’ the old man wasn’t the kindest to you, your sister—or anyone for that matter.
he’d frequently take his anger out on you and smack you ‘til you’re every colour under the sun after he heard you’d been foolin’ around with some chum around the block. it wasn’t even true—but your cries always fell to deaf ears when it came to that alcoholic.
it’s not like it was a secret either. every person on the east side could hear the arguing from your house—even the front door slam shut. that’s when the people would know you’d be huddled up on the curtis’ couch.
“y/n—breakfast.”
soda’d nudge you gently—talking in a hushed voice. the smell of bacon filled your nostrils, a sigh leaving your lips as it hit you that he was the one cooking. you aren’t exactly the biggest fan of his rather odd choices of how he makes his food.
but goddamnit you can fake it for him. if you can lie to the cops, you can lie to one of your greatest friends.
just like how you can lie to the investigators trying to find dallas winston.
“you know this kid?”
“never seen ‘em in my life. lay off now, assholes.”
you’d mumble, walking past them, making sure you hit their shoulders as hard as you could. you always got a kick out of hurting those pigs as you’d call ‘em.
which is what caused dallas winston goin’ MIA. you had seen dallas winston getting knocked down by the police after a long chase.
even though you can’t stand that new yorkian—you do love fighting. you tried to walk as quietly as you could up to them before making yourself known.
“hey, man!”
you shouted, causing their heads to turn. when they saw you—their eyes immediately flashed a look of hatred. they obviously knew who you were, and if they didn’t know, they’d know after you socked one in the jaw.
all attention on dallas turned to you—all of them going after you. until dallas also landed a clean hit on one. with the impact of the officer falling on the ground—your feet started moving on your own.
you cackled, hearing dallas laugh along with you, running beside you. the rush that washed over you two was indescribable—the adrenaline was great.
this isn’t the first time you’ve been on the run, and it’s not like you haven’t been caught. one time you got caught—your bail was low. but too high for you. you were offered one call and the first person that came to mind would surely rip off your head.
‘worth a shot,’ you thought to yourself, dialling the numbers with the phone to your ear, a cop hovering over you.
“hello?”
“darrel? it’s y/n.”
“goddammit, y/n. what the hell did you do this time?”
“nothin’! i-i just need you to come and bail me. it’s only 50 cents, darry.”
“you’re never gonna hear the end of it, you damned jail bird. i’ll be there soon.”
with that—you heard a click on the end of the line. you wanted to defend yourself, but hearing him call you a jail bird gave you more pride than you’ve felt in a long time.
of course, when he did bail you out, any feeling you had of pride evaporated. as soon as you entered the backseat, you could feel the rage from darry.
“what the hell did you do? it’s 11PM. ponyboy and soda’s in bed—and i was getting ready! 11PM, y/n!”
“holy fuck, darry! stop acting like i killed a guy! it was just a grab n’ run!”
“y/n—is it too hard to ask that you try to stay safe? just once, that’s all i ask!”
“oh my god, darry! you aren’t my fucking father!”
“guess what’s happening. you’re coming to my house and spending the nights there. the second i hear that you’re runnin’ from the cops i’m contesting against you in court!”
the rest of the ride was in silence, it being broken up by the occasional blinker. when he pulled onto the side of the road, parking his truck in front of the house, you sat there.
stubborn is what people thought of you—and you sure as hell were. darry got out, expecting you to follow. he stood in front of the gate, arms crossed as you stared off into space.
the door opened—darry quickly grabbing you. he carried you like a baby, against your very loud protests.
soda opened the door, snickering as he sees the situation you’re in. ponyboy was sitting on darrys chair, playing with the tab of a pepsi can. once he seen darry step in, you in arms, he shot up from where he sat.
“where were you? what happened?”
“yeah, jail bird. what happened?”
you heard the two younger brothers ask, one sounding more mocking than the other. darry placed you on the couch, swiftly throwing a blanket over you.
you’d been in this situation before, the memories flooding back to you as you felt yourself drift off into sleep.
expect you weren’t the one being carried. you had carried johnny from the lot, put him on your back. it was a few days after he’d been jumped real bad.
you were out of the loop when it came to who jumped who. you seen johnny asleep in the lot. dried blood on his jacket and face. bruises were everywhere on his body. you felt bad.
you always liked johnnycakes. he understood you in a way. as you carried him on your back—you could only thing of the similarities between you two.
you both had rough home lives, you both always found yourself trying to keep everything together. he used to be so tough but turned quiet—you had always been tough and never expected to change.
lost in your thoughts—you got to the curtis house faster than expected. you quietly walked up the stairs, opening the door, avoiding the creaky floorboards.
you placed johnny on the couch, taking a silent vow to beat whoever did this to him even worse.
and you always kept your word.
robert sheldon was the guy you and your cousins had tracked down, bats and other weapons in hand. if he can use those thick gold rings—you can use your bat. fair game, right?
you caught him, drunk on the streets, and stupidly alone. your cousins beat up ford slowed down beside him—making it a repeat of what he’d do to others.
he took notice—stumbling as he turned his head. your own small gang took notice to this, stopping the car before jumping out.
you guys had beaten him to the point where he looked just like johnny. you kept your word, and you wouldn’t let anyone ever touch johnny like that.
you always hated soc’s. you’d do anything to do annoy ‘em. even if it meant stealing their mustangs, you always liked them anyhow.
steve always talked about how he’d do anything to drive a tuff car like that. everytime he seen one, that’s all he talked about.
“imagine drivin’ a car like that. could you imagine how fast i could go?”
you’d learn how to hot wire at a young age, rarely ever did it though. but when you seen a wine coloured mustang left unattended—you knew you had an opportunity.
it wasn’t hard to get it going, and it wasn’t hard to drive it to the DX without getting caught. steve was working in the hood of an old car outside until he heard a honk.
a grin grew on his face as he seen you in the drivers sear of the car, a smug look on your face. steve practically skipped as he rushed towards the vehicle, tapping the hood as he took a closer look.
as he was nothing less than mesmerized—you hopped out of the car. steve looked up at you from his crouched position before you threw the keys at him, walking towards the passenger seat.
steve immediately put two and two together, jumping into the car without a second thought.
you swore you ain’t never seen steve so happy when he was speeding down the road in this mustang. he never asked where you got it—and you never told him.
you and ponyboy were alright. he didn’t like being around you for long periods of time. on the other hand—you absolutely loved it.
you could tease him until the sun went down for everything and anything.
“what the hell are you wearin’, pony?”
“a shirt?”
“sure as hell don’t look like one.”
you’d ruffle his greased up hair, going against his complains. you’d mock his books and movies, mimicking what they just said in a higher voice. ponyboy always disliked this. he didn’t hate it however. a small part of him knew that’s how you showed affection.
but he never knew you could be so gentle when you felt like it—that he really, really liked. one day, when school was out and everyone was doing their own thing, ponyboy sat at home.
he was reading a book with the tv as background noise. until you barged through the door, beelining for the fridge. you got a beer, closing the door. you took a sear in darry’s chair, watching TV.
ponyboy wondered if you noticed he was even home. when he seen you enter—he felt insecure. you were the definition of a greaser—he was…just some guy that so happened to have grease in his hair.
you realized he stopped reading, his eyes everywhere but his book. sighing, you got up and sat beside him on the couch. you took one more swig of the beer before you told him to read out loud.
“read to me.”
“wh-huh?”
“the TV’s borin’. read.”
with that, he did. the longer ponyboy read, the more relaxed he became. of course—you looked like you wanted to rip your own head off—but ponyboy did like the fact you immersed yourself into the story.
“she fucking what?”
“yeah! crazy, right?”
“crazy’s an understatement, man.”
‘crazy’ is what people would call you and two-bit. people would’ve never willingly put the two of you in a room, but you two got along swimmingly.
he was loud, sometimes clingy, and always joking around. you really needed someone like him in your life. a breath of fresh air—until the two of you would compete.
“let’s see who can steal the most stuff without gettin’ caught.”
was a sentence often said between the two of you. a little fun never hurt nobody, right? two-bit seemed like the expert at stealing, and you just liked to break the law.
the longest it went on was for a week. you tot caught first and you have yet to live it down.
“so god fuckin’ help me—i will gauge your eyeballs out with this fucking fork!”
“yeah but, i’ll die knowin’ that i was able to steal without gettin’ BANNED!”
two-bit later had a bruise on his ribs.
you’ve never been one to stay in a group of people. but staying with these people—it was different in so many ways.
you knew they wanted you here, they knew you loved them and that you knew that they loved you too. and unfamiliar feeling sure—but a welcomed feeling.
you argued, fought, and even fist fought each other. but goddamnit, you all moved past it. and that’s all you could ask for in this little life. even if your life is mostly you sitting in a prison.
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dorkszn · 3 months
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“quit squirmin’, will ya?” mickey rasps in your ear. you swallow harshly as you grip the fabric of his sweatpants.
“you guys are attacking me,” you scoff, mickey’s lips press against the skin of your throat again. bite marks and bright red bruises litter across your skin.
“god, you’re so dramatic.” your red-head boyfriend sighs from the end of your bed. ian kisses against your abdomen, softly sucking more hickies into your skin while his fingers toy with the waistband of your shorts.
“am not.” you glare down at him.
“are too.” mickey grumbles, softly digging his fingertips into your skin. you slightly squirm at the touch, a sigh leaving you.
“i am no—“
“god, you talk so much.” ian interrupts, bringing his lips to yours. he pulls your words from your throat and into to him, leaving you with nothing but gentle breathes and whines.
meanwhile, mickey’s hands slide into your pants, playing with the fabric of your boxers that were growing tighter by the minute.
suddenly, the sound of your phone ringing broke you and ian apart. “shit— sorry, one second.”
they don’t let you leave their trap so you just reach out and grab the phone. you flip the top part up and bring it to your ear. “hello?” you greet. your mother’s voice responds to you through the speaker.
“yeah, you know I’ll be there.” you reply as she talks. you feel mickey begin nipping at your neck and ian takes the waistband of your pajamas pants into his grip. a choked noise leaves you.
“sorry, I’m just… a little busy right now.” you speak out, your free hand reaching up to hold mickey’s hair to carefully push him off of you. but he doesn’t budge.
“yeah, ok, see you then, yeah, love you too, bye.” you say, quickly hanging up the phone.
“who was that?” the ginger questions, kissing your jawline.
“my mom, you assholes.” you scoff. ian pulls down your pants to completely reveal your underwear and growing erection.
“aww,” mickey hums and you can see his smug grin out the corner of your eye.
“shut the fuck up, milkovich,” ian snickers from his spot. “you too, gallagher.” you look over to him.
a smirk covers ian’s face. “why don’t you makes us, fisher?”
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in-act-ive · 11 months
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Yo can I request the Gallagher boys (not Liam) and Mickey headcanons if U do them (all separately) with a male reader who's more domimant and taller (sorry I can't spell) in the relationship like they also have to be the big spoon or whatever reader always pulls them in to his lap or something nothing sexual
Thank you if U can't do multiple characters can U do lip or Mickey
I'm real sick of the fics where the male reader it still feminine y'know
Have a nice day sorry for the long request
I had so many ides for this the moment you asked!
Request : yes
Type : headcanon
A / N : hope this is what you wanted!! Sorry it took so long btw, I got sick really fast and couldn't write!
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Carl Gallagher
At first he's very confused by whats going on
After a few times he gets used to sitting in your lap and does it instinctively
Carl hates that you're taller in every way
He's probably a brat to you
He insists on getting stuff he can't reach even if you've offered to help
Carl is very independent and says he doesn't need your help
When he does need your help he's such a bitch about it
He does like having his scary dog privileges though to be honest
If he's about to go do shady shit he drags you along to scare anyone off who may try and fuck with him
When he's a police officer he insists on protecting you
Oh how the tables have turned
When you spoon him he definitely pulls your hands up to his chest so he can hold your hands
After a while he just lets you lay your hands wherever you'd like
He's comfy with whatever
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Lip Gallagher
He won't admit it but he kinda likes that you're taller than he is
The first time he sits in your lap he's flustered as hell but continues to flirt with you
After a few times its still a little awkward but he won't admit it
He just insists on not doing it
He uses your height to his advantage
The moment he doesn't feel like reaching something he bothers you to grab it for him
He finds it hilarious that you are too tall for the Gallagher house
He likes to tease you when you hit your head on stuff or trip on something
His love language is most definitely teasing
When you both go out he kinda acts like you're not there
When he gets into fights you have to save him half the time
When he confronts bitches of men he almost always has you standing around incase it doesn't go his way
The moment you two cuddle and you spoon him he gets kinda pissed off
He'd much rather face you
He does feel protected in your arms but won't say that
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Ian Gallagher
Ian is already the tallest Gallagher and is too tall for their house but having you around makes him jealous
He is confused when you pulled him into your lap
He's not opposed to the idea of sitting with you but he also really doesn't seem to know what to do with himself
Once he's used to it and knows a comfortable way to sit its one of his favorites
He won't admit it
He insists on getting everything himself no matter if you can reach it or not
He probably warns you before you run into a doorway cause he knows what its like
He hates PDA
Especially holding hands
Mainly because he hates feeling like the shorter guy in any relationship
Even if he is
The moment you spoon him he says something dumb
"No. No we're not doing this."
He wants to be the big spoon but you object to that idea
Finally you compromise on you both facing each other
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Mickey Milkovich
He doesn't mind your height at all
Everyone is always taller than him anyways ao your height is just something about you
He thinks its attractive but obviously wont say his feelings
The moment you pulled him into your lap he immediately was fine with it
When he sat in your lap he sat like a king on his throne
Mickey gets so used to it and does it absentmindedly
He will push you into a chair just to sit in your lap no matter how busy you may be
When you guys go out of the house he loves having his "scary dog privileges"
He knows when it comes down to a fight he'd probably kick someones ass for you though
He loves when you hold him or touch him in public
Then he knows that your his and he's yours no matter what
Plus he finds it fucking hilarious when you have to tell people to go away cause you're together
When it comes to cuddling he loves when you spoon him
Its his favorite thing ever
When you don't he makes you no questions ask
Note: This was not spell checked nor grammer checked! I apologize in advance for the mistakes
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hadesrise · 1 year
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heart of gold, heart of cold.
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summary ➳ you’re much more than just the nicest boy in southside chicago
pairings ➳ ian gallagher x male reader x mickey milkovich
warnings ➳ fluff, foul language, violence, soft boy!reader, homophobia, established polyamorous relationship, absolute badassery lol, mentions of sex, a little apathy, small mention of blood, good but actually not trope, some mental issues
author’s note ➳ haven’t watched shameless, only gallavich scenes and few other moments. my anger issues can’t handle watching all of that. which is why none of my writing of them’s gonna be accurate to the timeline of the series.
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Ian and Mickey couldn’t remember the time you were ever mean to anyone even before meeting you, had never even heard of your name being thrown around without it being extremely positive. Everyone had to say everything about you, which is understandable, considering you were definitely the odd type to be in southside Chicago — this place was full of shit with robbery being nonchalantly committed, guns shooting off in different areas, bunch of unconvicted pedophiles walking around, and teenagers high on whatever fucking heavy drugs they first could touch, while you’re out there, helping whoever you think might need help and genuinely being nice to even the worst fucking thugs you would ever meet.
It’s questionable, how someone could be in southside and grow up perfectly sane and not bottled up with any issues or anger.
You’ve always been the talk around the neighborhood, how the (L/n) kid helped some randos again, how you talked to them with the nicest personality and utmost respect, how you smile at anyone who passes by whenever you make eye contact with them, how you were calm in dealing with a situation most people would get frustrated at; just about anything positive. It wasn’t difficult for both Ian and Mickey to fall for you as much as they fell for each other. You were like a single flower blooming in the middle of a garden that a person would come back to just to see your beauty; something about your softness and kind personality struck a core into both of their hearts.
They never had someone like you in their life. A calm, soothing, comforting presence, like the warm sun in the morning. An accepting, welcoming presence, like the mother earth. You’ve always been gentle with them — not something they’re used to, considering the type of household they grew up in — always checking in, making sure they’re okay even if they push you away, taking care of them.
You’re one of the first person Ian came out to other than his family, because he knew you’d never judge. Mickey was rather an asshole in your first meet, nearly beating you up, but the way you didn’t snark or your nice demeanor didn’t change no matter what insults he threw at you made him hesitant, which never happened with Milkovich’s.
When they started sleeping together, you caught on it quickly before anyone else ever did and kept it a secret the entire time, knowing the personal problems they had to deal with; Ian and Mickey only found out you knew when you stopped Terry from making Mickey have sex with Svetlana by just walking in on the interaction. The near innocence in your eyes as you tilted your head slightly to the side, just staring at Terry until he grew uncomfortable and rushed off. He could never stand being near to you, especially with how holier than thou you were. It wasn’t actually an accident to walk in, but they don’t know that.
Despite the awkward circumstances, you were calm and paid Svetlana a good amount before getting both of them dressed and taking care of them, even though they didn’t have to be taken cared of. Your gentleness with them that time really caused something to burst within their chest, the same feeling they were starting to develop towards each other. The acceptance, the comfort, the gentleness. Everything about you felt magical — you felt magical.
Even after Ian and Mickey figured out their shit together, officially came out, figured out their shit together again that both of them liked you, flirted with you and won you over, and officially came out again to their family as polyamorous couple, they had never seen you be a dick. Sure, you swore a lot sometimes when you drop something or miss something, but never towards anyone. They never saw you doing the typical southside thing, being rebellious, smoking cigarettes, drinking alcohol, doing drugs or shit.
You’re always nice — and it’s supposed to be a good thing, but it also gets a lot concerning, especially when some dumb fucking guy punched you in the face for mistaking you as someone who slept with his girlfriend and you had the audacity to forgive him when he apologized, making Mickey nearly wanting to strangle you right then and there.
“Why the fuck did you forgive him?” Mickey snarls and shuts the fridge door close, ice pack in hand as he throws it to Ian, who immediately began pressing it to your cheek that was beginning to form a bruise.
You shrugged, “He just mistook me for someone else.”
“Yeah, and fucking punched you in the face without asking first who the fuck you are.” Mickey retorted, giving you a death glare. He moves around to stand beside you on the opposite side of Ian.
You were sitting on the counter facing the dining table where Fiona, Lip, Liam, Carl, Debbie, Sandy, Mandy, and Franny were, all contorting worried look since you’re the nicest and you having a single bruise means when the people you helped before sees it they’re gonna flip over and bury the guy ten feet under while still breathing. Everyone knew you, and you’re literally the holiest within southside, so they naturally hated when someone messed with you.
Your hand shoots up to rub his arm gently, warm look in your eyes as your soft voice speaks to comfort him. “Calm down, Mick. Let it go, I’m fine.” You smile softly, “It was just a little mistake. Everyone makes mistakes.”
Mickey frowns, still angry yet definitely calm now that you’re giving him comfort. “You’re too fucking nice, it’s making me sick.”
You chuckled, grabbing the ice pack from Ian to press it on your cheek yourself. You pull Ian to kiss him on the cheek before doing the same to Mickey, knowing it will help tone down their anger. “At least I have my own guard dogs.” You joke, earning a snicker from the group.
“Haha, very funny.” Mickey sarcastically replies.
Ian sighs, “(Y/n), I think Mickey’s right though. You’re too nice, maybe a bit much. Even to Frank and Terry.” He agreed with his other boyfriend, who puts his hands up in a gesture of i told you so.
You tilted your head, still smiling. “Frank’s your father and Terry’s Mickey’s father. No matter how horrible they are, I don’t think I could treat them any differently from how I treat others.” Shrugging, you ignored both of your boyfriends’ groan and sipped on the orange juice resting on your side.
“What’s up with you treating everyone equally and being unnaturally nice to even someone who doesn’t deserve it?” Fiona asked, genuinely confused with her brows furrowed together and crease forming on her forehead. “You were even nice with Monica.”
You bit the inside of your cheek, thinking for a while.
You could tell them what was really going on, but it would be too much to dump it on them all of a sudden. Being nice and having a lot of patience is a lot difficult, but you learned to, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to survive. It’s a survival skill that you had to adapt to; be nice and you get everything you want. A little... useful tactic that you taught yourself, though it’s more than that.
Deciding against telling them, because it’ll get out when it gets out, you simply gave her a tight-lipped smile and shrugged. “I like spreading dumb kindness. I think it helps people who deals with mental health issues that their relatives probably don’t even know. I might’ve been nice to them and turned their bad day into good day. Small things like that has an impact, you know.”
Mickey scowled, “That makes no sense.”
You simply smiled and patted his cheek, turning to Ian who placed his hand on your waist. “I still think you should’ve done something, (Y/n). Press charges or something.” He said, wanting to convince you.
Shaking your head with a reassuring smile, you kissed his lips and Mickey’s, successfully shutting both of them up as you hopped off of the counter. “I’m going to change. Take me out on a date, will you two?” You let your hands linger on each of their arm before walking away with an angelic smile, leaving the boys staring after you in slight awe.
“Oh my god, you two are so fucking smitten with him.” Sandy remarked, laughing. The others nodded in agreement, deeply amused.
Ian and Mickey rolled their eyes, “The fuck we’re not.” Mickey denies, though failing to convince them and himself.
“But you are,” Lip shrugged. “He’s got you wrapped all around his finger.”
“Kinda cute if you ask me,” Fiona chuckles.
“Oh, fuck off.” Ian retorts, a smile across his face.
Neither would admit it, but they really were. Equally smitten with one another, your relationship had always been wholesome, except for the times all three of you were friends with benefits.
Ian and Mickey slept together first obviously, only started hooking up with you after the incident with Terry. Mickey was first to do it when he went to your house to spend time with you since you’re the only person he could trust aside from Ian, the casual conversation taking a turn after he had asked if you would fuck him if you were gay, which you told him you were, causing Mickey to literally demand a fuck from you.
“Hey, man?” Mickey slowly called to you who was sitting on the opposite side of the ridiculously big couch, eyes focused on the movie with a can of coke in your hand.
“Hm?” You hum, turning to look at him despite being completely indulged in the movie plot. Mickey liked that, how you’re willing to give him your full attention even though you’re busy and don’t even have to look at him at all.
He glances down, picking with his hand, slightly nervous. But he knew you wouldn’t judge, you never did. It was unlikely of him to feel this way, but Mickey couldn’t help it. Nearly unbearable to talk to someone as nice and caring as you yet can’t bring himself to stay away.
“Would you—would you fuck me if you were, you know, fucking gay?”
Your brows raised at the random question. Though it wasn’t difficult to realize it’s because of the previous gay scene in the movie you’re watching where the main characters made love to each other without it being censored and shit. “Well,” You started with a small smile adorning your face, “I don’t know if you knew but I’m actually gay, Milkovich.”
Mickey’s head snapped to your side, eyes wide. “Wait, what? Why the fuck didn’t you tell me? Or Ian?”
“You didn’t ask,” You simply shrugged. “I normally don’t go around announcing to everybody what my sexuality is. Kind of weird if I did that,” You joked, earning a glare from the Milkovich. “But honestly, I didn’t think it was something I had to tell you or Ian. I just let people guess or notice it on their own.”
“How the fuck do they even notice?" Mickey remarks, furrowing his brows. “I’ve literally never seen you with any guys or girls. Have you even hooked up with somebody?”
You chuckled, “Nope. Wasn’t really interested.”
“Damn,” Mickey gave you a weird look. It was so odd to see someone in southside not doing drugs or shit, let alone sleeping around with whoever they liked. He wasn’t used to it. Now, you feel like a fucking holy being or something. But then, Mickey realizes you never actually answered his question, so he repeated again. “You didn’t answer my fucking question, would you fuck me?”
You’re gay, so might as well shoot his shot. Can’t really miss this opportunity.
You stare at him, something glinting in your eyes that definitely wasn’t innocence. Your lips slowly formed a sly grin as you tilted your head. “What if I said yes? What are you gonna do?”
A smile appeared on Mickey’s lips, “Then fucking get on with it, (L/n).”
Conveniently, you were a switch so Mickey didn’t have to pretend he didn’t like having dick in his ass. He told Ian he slept with you that came off as surprise since apparently Ian also didn’t know you were gay, which led to Ian sleeping with you as well.
“You’re so weird,” Ian laughed when he caught you stacking some nuggets together to build a makeshift tower, having woken up from a friendly sleepover at your house.
You grinned and stacked the last piece of nugget, looking at Ian as you gestured to your work of art. “Tadaaaa!” It caused him to burst out laughing, sitting down beside you on the couch.
“What are you doing?” Ian asked between laughter.
You shrugged your shoulders, “I was bored and you weren’t waking up anytime soon. Figured I’d kill my time.” Smiling, you offered him a can of beer that was sitting on the table, having just taken out from the fridge. Ian accepted, thanking you. “How did you sleep?”
Ian smiled after taking a gulp from the beer and placed it down on the table, “Great, actually. Like the times I haven’t been able to sleep isn’t real.” Relief was evident on his face, considering how big the bags under his eyes were. He never mentioned that you were the reason of him being unable to fall asleep, always thinking of you ever since that horrible day that suddenly turned great with your presence. Hearing about you sleeping with Mickey made him decide nothing will happen if he just thinks around, thus the sleepover.
A soft look crosses your face as you begin to play with his hair, touch displaying gentleness Ian had never felt before. His eyes met yours, such a warm gaze making him feel loved even without doing anything. “Well, I’m glad the cuddle worked, Gallagher. You can always come to me when you can’t sleep, I’ll hold you until you can.” Voice merely above a whisper, you gently told him.
Ian was feeling breathless. Everything about your welcoming and accepting nature deemed temptation; his pupils dilating, throat suddenly dry as if he’s been dehydrated, stomach growling as if hasn’t eaten in days, feeling your soft hand brush through his ginger hair as you stared at him innocently yet almost seducing. The tension was too thick to be cut with a knife. And with the growing urge to just give in to the temptation, Ian leaned forward without a second thought, capturing your lips in a kiss.
You made a noise of surprise that immediately caused Ian to pull away, a panicked look in his eyes, scared he might’ve ruined the most precious friendship he’s ever had. Series of apology slipped past his lips, but you shut him up by putting a finger up to his lips.
“Don’t apologize, I’m not mad, silly.” You reassured, though concern plastered your face. “Are you sure you want this?”
“Yeah,” His response was nearly quick. “Why do you think I agreed to a sleepover?”
That angelic smile of yours returned again, chuckling. “Okay then, Gallagher. Do whatever you want.” You said before kissing him again, letting the rest of the day continue.
Again, it was convenient that you’re a switch, because even though Ian has tried bottoming before, he preferred topping, especially with you or Mickey. Well, you and Mickey now. Those sleeping around days were a lot... wild, to say the least.
You never slept with anyone besides Ian and Mickey, always uninterested in other guys and turning them down nicely quite often, which Mandy — your bestfriend — noticed.
Questionable, of course, because there was one incident at the Alibi where she, Lip, and Fiona were present and you and Ian came out the bathroom covered in hickeys, not even bothering to hide them as the two of you sat down with them. However, when a guy noticed and realized what happened, they attempted to shoot their shot with you, miserably failing as you turned it down without further acknowledgement while Ian just shrugged, as if he already knew that was going to be your answer. Then, Mickey suddenly barged in only to tell you a short “not tired yet, are ya?” while walking to the bathroom, and you smiled at Ian before following Mickey.
It happened quite a lot in different circumstances that even the Gallaghers caught up on how Ian and Mickey are the only ones you let getting in your pants.
It was a messy and complicated time where everyone had to deal with their own shit; Mickey with his homophobic upbringing and sexual crisis, Ian with his confusion in feeling something for both you and Mickey at the same time and doubts to himself, you with accepting your romantic attraction to both of them, keeping it locked in, and fulfilling the desire to be with them by sleeping with them. It’s either they slept with each other, you slept with either of them, or the three of you slept together, all bonded somehow. Ian and Mickey were the first ones to get their shit together and officially became partners, and well... it honestly didn’t turn out good back then due to you still dealing with your own shit that nobody ever noticed. That story could be for another day, though.
The point is, your friendship used to be wholesome, but the extent of it increased more when you three settled after all that shitshow. There were some toxicity at first, especially with Mickey struggling to overcome the genuinely awful upbringing he had — he was dating a guy after all, and not just one but two — along with Ian’s diagnosis of bipolar disorder. But having each other and not giving up on each other made the toxicity disappear and morph into something positive, each of you going through some relationship development together.
Compared to back then, the three of you had grown overly comfortable with each other and the polyamorous relationship you had, not feeling discomfort when people look at you weirdly. Coming to terms with the issues truly helped.
However, neither Ian nor Mickey had come to terms with your kindness towards people who didn’t deserve it, and they absolutely have no plans of coming to terms with it at all. People can be a lot rude and asshole when you’re nice to them, which is why they simultaneously keep themselves and each other from strangling the person’s neck everytime it treated or spoke to you horribly.
Well, frankly, nobody would understand and you don’t expect them to. Too bad they’re going to have to sooner than later, because you’ve been feeling a little irritable — it’s only a matter of time before the truth cracks through the surface of friendliness and nice personality you’ve plastered on.
Once it does, people will be fucked.
You know who you are when you’re not nice; it’s never a pretty sight. It’s a bloodbath.
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Everything seemed perfect.
Dinner’s pretty cheap, but not unbearable. One of the nicest things about you is that you don’t care for the price as long as it’s edible and tasty. You’re not the one to fuss over the cheapness or expensiveness of anything and the Gallaghers loved that, because you wouldn’t talk shit of how they can’t afford shit. Birthdays are special occasion where people usually ask for expensive gifts, but the Gallaghers were always reminded by you not to go grand on celebrations or presents, because you didn’t like them spending their money on something other than theirselves.
They still went with it though, going to a cheap local bar where they serve cheap dinner so everyone could celebrate the birth date of you, who was born special in southside Chicago with kindness that’s seemingly a curse.
The night went by smoothly, everyone enjoying their time and having fun — You, Ian, Mickey, Mandy, Sandy, Lip, Fiona, Liam, Debbie, Franny, Veronica, Kev, and even Frank who was by the bar because his family disapproved of him joining. He still did, considering you’re the nicest kid he’s ever met.
Perfect. Everything was perfect. Too perfect that it’s becoming strange, how well this night is going.
You were absolutely correct to feel like that.
Mickey’s blood was boiling at the man that had suddenly approached the table with a friendly smile only to go around spitting whatever the fuck he wanted to talk about, mainly nasty things. But according to him, he knew you and you knew him, well enough, even though they didn’t know him despite being your boyfriends. The Gallaghers were collectively surprised of his sudden appearance, considering none of them knew him, but concerns littered their faces when the man mentioned you.
“I honestly don’t know what (Y/n)’s thinking, hanging out with Gallaghers and dating one,” The man, who ( unwantedly ) introduced himself as Caius snickered.
Ian, despite his annoyance increasing at Caius’ presence, tried to remain calm. “What’s it to you? And fyi, he’s also dating him, so don’t fucking talk like that.” He pointed at Mickey, who glared daggers at the man.
“Fuck, he’s dating two guys?” Caius laughed mockingly. “And a Milkovich at that. But aren’t you, like, bipolar though? With the gene.” His mention of the diagnosis made Mickey furious as he slammed his hands against the table and attempted to stand up, only to be held back by Ian. Everyone had their blood boiling now, but forced themselves to keep calm since it’s your birthday. Nobody wanted to ruin it for you.
“I guess crazy psychopaths are his type, huh? With how the screws in his head are fucking loose, I’m not surprised.” He snarled, looking at both of them. However, his words cuts through the boiling rage within Ian and Mickey as they both processed his words, furrowing their brows in confusion at the mention of the screws in your head being loose.
Before anyone could utter a single word, the loud sound of wine bottle smashing against the back of Caius’ head erupts throughout the entire bar as he dropped to the floor cursing loudly, revealing you holding the remaining end of the shattered bottle. The nice look on your face no longer visible as it contorted into an emotionless expression, eyes holding utmost coldness with some unknown darkness within them that sent chills up everyone’s spine.
You merely acknowledged Caius groaning in pain on the floor, throwing away the shattered piece of the wine bottle to the side as you nonchalantly patted off your hands of any invisible dirt.
“Oh my fucking god,” Fiona was the first to react, terrified as she witnessed Caius touch the back of his head and get a blood on his palm. The other Gallaghers were already standing a feet away as they all jumped up and away from the table when you smashed a bottle on the man’s head, completely shocked and stunned, Lip and Carl letting out holy fuck.
“Jesus fucking Christ!”
“What the fuck did you just do?”
Ian and Mickey exclaimed in sync, with Ian looking at you while Mickey at Caius, both eyes wide and shock on their faces.
You shrugged, the usual smile completely nonexistent. “Smashed a bottle on an old friend’s head after talking shit about my boyfriends.” The slightest hint of apathy in your tone worried them a bit, but you quickly shifted your cold gaze to Caius. “Quit fucking moaning, Caius. You already saw it coming when you decided to approach them while I was gone for the bathroom.”
“Fuck,” Caius groaned, laying on his back to shoot you a glare. “I just got fucking discharged from the hospital you put me in, shithead. A little nice sympathy maybe? The one you fucking show people.”
“Certainly didn’t need sympathy when you brought up Ian’s bipolar disorder,” You smiled sarcastically. “And don’t be fucking dramatic, it was just few broken bones.”
“You made me fucking bleed internally and you wanna call that just a few broken bones?” Caius snapped. Everyone’s eyes widened.
Rolling your eyes, you folded the sleeves up of your button up while clenching and unclenching your fist, something that Ian and Mickey didn’t miss. “Serves you right for planning to shoot Micky Milkovich. Unfortunately for you, I genuinely and utterly loathe someone describing either of them as crazy psychopaths, especially since Ian’s been diagnosed bipolar, so...”
You grinned sadistically.
“Consider today your finally meet God and be sent to Hell day.”
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Everyone watched as you rub your face while talking to the cops about what happened inside the bar, the back of your hand all bloody and knuckles busted, probably tainted in both Caius’ and your own blood. It was scary to see you so violent and, as Caius said, have screws in the head loose. The unlikeliness and the way you acted and looked so different from how you usually were terrified them.
Not Ian and Mickey, though. They were standing on both of your sides while the rest were a few feet behind, still attempting to calm down from the shock of witnessing your change in attitude and your true colors seeping through the cracks.
Your entire demeanor now was back to normal; not that cold and expressionless presence with terrifying apathy, but the warm, full of expression and accepting presence. You had quietly greeted the cops earlier with a small smile that turned into a frown of guilt, which somehow was enough for them not to handcuff you despite the damage you caused on Caius.
“I probably shouldn’t have done all of those to him,” You muttered thoughtfully while biting your lip. “I don’t think I regret it though. He crossed the line, I got pissed.”
“You normally don’t get pissed, Mr. (L/n).” One of the cops remarked.
Shrugging your shoulders, you gave them a small smile. “That’s just what you think of me. I don’t really care if people insult me or talk shit about me, but my boyfriends are one of the most significant people in my life, so they’re off-limits. I really can’t handle anyone talking shit about them.” Your soft tone falling down to a serious and firm one, you narrowed your eyes at the ambulance that contained Caius’ unconscious body.
“Are Mr. Milkovich and Mr. Gallagher basically your trigger?” The other cop wondered.
You nodded immediately, “Yeah. I think so.” Rubbing your nape with the uninjured hand nervously, you bit the inside of your cheek. “Shouldn’t you be handcuffing me? I definitely went too far, I blacked out in anger, and he’s unconscious with some injuries that are probably worse than what I think, so…” You slowly brought your hands together, ready to get arrested.
“Don’t worry, witnesses came forward and shared what happened. They confirmed Caius went too far with the disclosure of a person’s medical condition confidentiality.” One of the officers stated, gently bringing your hands down.
Your eyes snapped to the cops, “Wait, really?”
“Yes, they understood how off-limits your boyfriends are and immediately talked to us after we arrived.” The two cops smiled, seeing the look of relief on your face. “We’ll get going then, Mr. (L/n). You have nothing to worry about.”
“Thank you.” Sighing in relief, you gave them a look of gratitude as they began getting into their car before your blank face returned.
“You’re fucking one hell of an actor, (Y/n) (L/n).” Mickey remarked after seeing your face fall and glare threateningly at the ambulance as soon as the cops drove off.
“Hey,” Ian softly called to catch your attention, cupping your face. “Look at me. Look at us. Calm down, (Y/n). It’s fine, we’re fine, okay? You don’t have to be mad anymore.”
Mickey watched silently from the side with his arm around Ian’s waist and the other hand gently rubbing your arm to help bring comfort to you. Tense shoulders slowly softening and body relaxing, they witnessed the rage storm calm in your eyes as the hard gaze softened and you respond to their gesture by melting into their touch.
You sighed deeply, “Okay.”
Both of them couldn’t help but notice the empathy slipping back into your eyes and expression, brightening it up, making it seem more alive. Your eyes looked dead earlier when you were beating the life out of Caius until he was barely breathing, it honestly scared and freaked the fuck out of your boyfriends, even though they would probably never admit it. It was like seeing a soulless person because of the lack of empathy and all.
Though, seeing that happen definitely made them reconsider the thought that you grew up perfectly sane without bottled up issues in southside Chicago — They didn’t realize the bottled up issues was simply your kindness and nice atittude, the main things that literally allows you to get whatever you want from anyone because it’s the easiest way to manipulate others into giving you what you want, and they wouldn’t even realize the manipulation.
That’s your own shit to deal with; you force yourself to be nice and caring, so your apathy wouldn’t come up to the surface and destroy things. However, Ian and Mickey somehow knew none of the nice or caring side you showed to them were fake. Because if they were, would you even be in a relationship with them?
It would probably take a lot of time to figure you out, especially when you seem to like hiding behind the nicest person in southside Chicago mask and never let the surface crack to get even a peek inside, but they were willing to try. You’re their boyfriend after all.
“We’ll figure it out, (Y/n).” Mickey gently says. “We always fucking do. Right, Gallagher?” He smirked at Ian, who instantly nodded with an of course, before Mickey grabbed the back of his head and kissed his lips.
You smiled at them, genuinely.
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© ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴅᴇsʀɪsᴇ. sᴛᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ, ᴘʟᴀɢɪᴀʀɪᴢɪɴɢ, ᴏʀ ᴜsɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ғᴏʀ ᴍᴏɴᴇᴛᴀʀʏ ɢᴀɪɴ ɪs sᴛʀɪᴄᴛʟʏ ᴘʀᴏʜɪʙɪᴛᴇᴅ. ᴀsᴋ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛɪɴɢ ᴏʀ ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪɴɢ.
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skxllz · 6 months
Note
Jealous Ian and Mickey??
say no more
+
“ 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐲? ”
warnings; mickey being mickey. physical violence (typical shameless shit). ian with rings + getting arrested hehe. blood mention. I think that's it??
date posted; 12.9.23
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usually, ian wasn't the type to get jealous. he had his moments in the past with mick’, with that fucker that had talked shit on ‘im at the bar. and maybe that angie girl... but that was a while ago. maybe even with svetlana, but of course that couldn't be helped. and maybe that one time when they first met you...
okay, maybe ian did get jealous. but that was besides the fact. he's never felt uncontrollable rage before when it's come to anyone other than mickey. the time mickey and svetlana married? he wasn't just heartbroken; he felt the need to actually kill terry and tell svetlana to fuck off in front of everyone, even though technically the circumstances weren't her fault. with you, he's never felt that — not since you started dating him and mickey.
it's funny really, for both of them. it was the moment ian realized he actually was in love with you — same for mickey. only, mick’ didn't realize until after the fact.
it started off with an actual date night between you three. ian told you that him and mickey planned one a while ago but it never sought through because some bitch named sammy got him arrested. you didn't know who the sammy chick was, and ian didn't explain who she was, but you mentally vowed that night to stick it to her. that's why you took them both out a week later, to some fancy restaurant on the west side.
mickey complained about a few things on the way there; the fact that he had to wear a tux, the way it fit him, and that the west side was the last damn place he wanted to be. he claimed it was where the ‘ rich bitches with those stupid nose bandaids ’ live and he wanted no part of that parade. you reassured him though that those noses of theirs would end up bleeding if they gave him the slightest problem.
to say the least, you gave him a boner and a good convincing.
after you arrived at the destination, you had watched while entering the restaurant as the two males gawked at the scenery of the place. it made ian question you just how you were going to afford everything —in which you laughed and just replied with “ don't worry, i’ ”— and mickey mutter under his breath just how much the golden posts by the doorway would go for on ebay. you swatted him on the shoulder since you heard ‘im.
you guys’ little trio was escorted generously to a nice window booth at the back of the restaurant, giving a nice view of the back patio where a fountain and little glowy fairy lights were displayed; giving off a familiar, comfortable feel. and, although you felt as ease, you could mickey still did not by the way he was tugging at different ends of his suit and scooting around in his seat.
“ mick- y’okay? ” ian asked, giving a puzzled questionable expression. the red head had been reading over the drinks menu when he noticed his boyfriend acting out of place.
“ this place gives me the fucking quivers... ” mickey muttered, once again shifting. “ I feel like ‘m bein’ stared at. ”
ian snorted at that. usually mickey didn't let shit get to him - especially people, at that. if there a problem, he'd sort it out himself, so why was he acting off now. “ why's that bothering you? ”
you were now looking at mickey as well, expecting him to answer as you raised your brows curiously. you too wanted to know why he was acting differently.
“ because, ” he sighed in frustration, only then leaning across to table to harshly whisper to Ian, while sparing you a slight glance. “ because I rather not fuckin’ ruin this night for y/n, okay? jesus christ. ”
ian's lips formed an o shape in realization. you were more sensitive than they were, so he could understand why mickey felt that way — didn't want to embarrass you or anything. if that happened, who knows how long of a grudge you'd hold.
mickey sat himself back just as a waiter approached. he was tucking in his finely pressed, button down shirt into his apron, not necessarily paying attention to his surroundings as he dropped a pen from his pocket. y/n realized — and, the good samaritan he was, he scooted out from the booth to crouch down and pick it up.
“ uh- here, ” he stood, pushing his hand out towards the waiter. “ you dropped this. ”
“ oh, ” the waiter extended a hand to take his writing tool back. and, as he did so, lifted his head, “ thank you- y/n? ”
“ blake? ” y/n asked, surprise on his face. “ holy shit. ”
that right there is when the first wave of jealousy struck in the night. the look of realization on both of their faces made Ian and mickey exchange glances — and, although ian felt a twist in his stomach, he wasn't exactly indifferent about the reunion just yet. mickey was, though. he looked sour.
and he was right to. throughout the remainder of the hours there, their waiter, blake, would always give you a smile that was always more than just a smile. he'd stop by more often than meant to, as well. asking for refills when it wasn't necessary, stopping by seconds later thinking he forgot a plate when in reality there was none to take. it pissed your boyfriends off - mickey especially.
the brunette had to withhold standing up and violating the guy where he stands. in mickey's mind, he wishes, wishes, that his stare alone could make this blake motherfucker burst into flames. it'd make his year. probably ian's too, because mick’ knew for a fact that his ginger companion was ready to blow the minute blake stopped by to give you the check.
ian's fingers were death-gripping his fork and his jaw was set. eyes pointed towards the table... and you were oblivious to it - cause you were too busy smiling at him.
“ say- ” blake spoke as he handed off the little black booklet to you, “ since it's been awhile, I was just wondering, would you like to hang out sometime? ”
mickey's head snapped up then. “ the fuck? ” he finally broke for the night. he's had enough. “ no- no, he won't like to fucking hang out sometime, ” mickey mocked, looking absolutely fed up. “ are you fucking nuts? you got some cotton in your damn brain- low iq? ”
the look on blake's face was priceless. his eyes were wide, jaw was dropped open. the hand that had stretched out to take the check back, paused midair. even you were looking at mickey like he was bat shit insane.
which, he probably was. but honestly, what do you expect with dating a milkovich?
“ you need to fucking scram before I pop your head off’a your body like a fucking cork. ” mick’ spat finally - and that was the straw that left the drink empty. you heard enough, scooting closer to mickey to calm him down.
“ mick- ”
“ who the hell are you talking to? ” blake's response made you whip your head around in his direction, eyes as wide as golf balls. was this kid crazy?
mickey looked at ian, who was already looking at him, ready to murder someone, before steering his eyes back onto the blonde male. “ I think I'm fuckin’ talkin’ to you- now y/n, sweetheart, move so I can kill this fucking rat. ”
by now, everyone around was staring. low, hushed voices whispering to one another, other waiters and waitresses watching the scene go down with saucer-bound eyes. a few folks had their phones out, recording, while others were on the phone with police.
“ I'm not moving. ” you sternly spoke, looking mickey in the eye so he knew you meant business. “ you promised you wouldn't make a scene tonight yet here you are, doing exactly that. ”
arms dramatically launched out of gesture to the blonde waiter, “ he was clearly hitting on you! ” mickey emphasized, making sure to get in through your head that you were being blind. you were. “ he wants in your fucking pants! ”
“ he does not want in my pants! ”
“ yes he fucking does! ”
“ stop swearing at me! ”
“ oh fuck off, get a grip! ”
you both were too busy arguing to notice that ian had gotten up from the table and approached blake. it wasn't until you heard gasps around you and a loud “ fuck! ” come from said blonde, followed by a thud, did you and mickey raise your heads.
ian was shaking off his hand with a blank mask of anger while blake lied on the floor, clutching his nose. blood gushed out through the cracks of his fingers, the red liquid flowing down and hitting the dark flooring of the restaurant.
people around looked frightened; staring at ian in horror, as if he was a monster. it was dramatic really.
a few of blake's coworkers rushed to his aid while ian walked back over to you both. his fist was raw and red, and his knuckles were slightly split open, but it wasn't too bad besides that.
“ holy shit... ” mickey breathed out, eyeing blake's bloody face from over your shoulder as he was stood to his feet. he was wobbly, wincing, trying not to shout as someone bumped him. it looked as if ian broke his nose. “ holy shit. ”
“ ian! ” you hissed, “ what the fuck! ”
ian shrugged, “ he got what was coming to him. he shouldn't hit on what isn't his. ”
you blinked lazily. shoulders slumping, breathing coming out in realization. “ but... I'm yours? ”
mickey scoffed and slipped his arm around your shoulders. “ are you insane? of course your ours, y/n. I wouldn't bite someone's fucking dick off for you if you weren't. ”
ian nodded towards mickey, “ what he said. I wouldn't just punch anyone. the dick deserved it. ”
you were silent for a moment, processing the emotions you felt. even though the gossip around you was annoying, you weren't necessarily mad at your boyfriends. moreso, you were just annoyed because the rest of the date was ruined. sure, you had dinner, but you wanted to do much more.
of course though, you couldn't, because the cops ran through the entrance seconds later.
“ he's over there! ” you saw the hostess point towards your red haired companion. ian swore under his breath, only to turn on his heel and book it in the opposite direction.
“ run, i’! ” you scream, looking worried.
“ fucking run like hell, ian! ” mickey looked worried too, surprisingly. I mean, it was his boyfriend, but usually he wouldn't let his emotions get the best of him cause of his pride. but here we are.
the night ended off with ian getting put into cuffs and walked out to the cop car. You and mickey both promised to bail him out somehow, and that you'd explain everything to his siblings.
“ oh- hey, y/n? ” ian called, just as the officer was shoving him into the vehicle.
“ yeah? ” you call back.
“ I love you! ”
your heart damn near skipped a beat. chest fell as you lost breath, a smile of joy spreading across your face. with happiness now in your heart, you lifted your hand, waving him goodbye.
that's when mickey suddenly pulled you by the arm, ripping a gasp from you, and kissed your temple.
“ I love you too, weasel. ”
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thebearer · 4 months
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Okay I’m obsessed with this idea of Lip as stay at home dad. Like the way he’d be just so on top of things. Like imagine he has his wife who works Monday-Friday as litigation attorney wife (yes I’m self indulging a bit 😅🤭) like I think it’s just the cutest thing. Like she has a photo of him and the kids at her office and he’d be so proud of her like THATS MY WIFE energy.
i think at the beginning he'd feel so inferior staying at home. he's never in his life been around someone (besides sheila but that's different lol) who got to stay at home and not work. he just has never grew up that way, and it feels so insane for him to do.
"i can pay debbie to watch them for cheap, and i'll go to work too."
"why would you do that? just save us the money and stay home?"
it's a little emasculating to him at first. his wife the breadwinner feels wrong to him (it's lip ok). he's still got a touch of his own fragile masculinity until he talks to mickey out of all people.
"it's the fukin' best gallagher."
"yeah? really?"
"fuck yeah." mickey scoffs. "get to stay home with the kids. make sure no one's fuckin' with 'em. sleep in. don't have to deal with assholes out in the real world."
he'd do it, and really enjoy it, but he'd definitely have a saturday and some night shift jobs through the week at the auto shop. just so he feels a little more in control, not completely dependent on you (for his own sanity and sake).
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samantha-rae-velcher · 7 months
Text
Master List
Master list Pt.2
YouTubers
Jschlatt
King pt.1 - smut
King pt.2 - smut/ fluff
Trust is for the weak - smut/angst
Trust is for the Weak Pt.2 - smut
Class final - smut
Class final Pt.2 - smut
Class final Pt.3 - smut
Dreams - smut
Frozen Treat - smut
Argument - smut
Aphrodite - smut
The Hunt - smut
Pretty Boy - smut
Crush - smut
What we once had - smut
Pipsqueak - smut
Silence - smut
Look at me - smut
Fireworks - fluff
Cuffed - fluff
Prized Possession - fluff
Moodboard - selfies your Bf Schlatt sends you
Moodboard - more selfies your Bf Schlatt sends you
Moodboard - pics you've taken of your bf Schlatt
Imagine - smut
Imagine - smut
Imagine - smut
Imagine - smut
Imagine - smut
Imagine - fluff
Imagine - fluff
Swaggersouls
So pretty - smut
Lights out - smut
The Key - smut
Psychedelic Love - smut
"Happy birthday, sweetheart" - smut
Podcast - fluff
Imagine - smut
Your Narrator
Sick Day - fluff
Wholesome Viking Warrior Pt.1 - smut
Wholesome Viking Warrior Pt.2 - smut
Mully
"Good boy" - smut
Three Way - smut
Lightning - smut
Just a downtown stroll - smut
Break it up - Smut
Pretty little thing - smut
"She's mine" - smut
Sweet submission - smut
Lust - smut
Double the man power (Mully and Narrator) - smut
Cold chill and steam - smut
Point Proven - smut
VR - fluff
Bridge the gap - fluff
"I love my girl" - fluff
Joshdub
Threebee (Josh and Juicy) - smut
Daddy's princess - smut
Tom Hardy
The League (Bane) - fluff
The League Pt.2 (Bane) - fluff/violence
The League Pt.3 (Bane) - smut/fluff
The League Pt.4 (Bane) - fluff
Fearless (Alfie Solomons) - smut
Red (Alfie Solomons) - angst
The club (Reggie Kray) - smut
Star Wars
Past comes to haunt Future to save (Din Djarin) - fluff
Tune up Pt.1 (Paz Vizsla) - smut
Tune up Pt.2 (Paz Vizsla) - smut
Little one Pt.1 (Paz Vizsla) - smut
Little one Pt.2 (Paz Vizsla) - smut
Little one Pt.3 (Paz Vizsla) - fluff
TWD
Two hearted love (Aaron) - fluff
Trust needs to be earned (Aaron) - fluff
"Give me your hand" (Aaron) - fluff/ Violence
One on One (Eugene Porter) - fluff/ Violence
Stranger Things
Fight or flee Pt.1 (Eddie Munson) - fluff
Fight or flee Pt.2 (Eddie Munson) - smut
Fight or flee Pt.3 (Eddie Munson) - fluff
"Don't tell me you're getting mushy"- fluff
Shameless
"Tell your boyfriend I'll kill him" (Mickey Milkovich) - smut
The more you know (Mickey Milkovich) - smut
My wife (Mickey Milkovich) - angst/fluff
Keep off (Mickey and Ian) - fluff/Violence
What I own (Mickey and Ian) - fluff/ Violence
Boyfriend like Girlfriend (Mickey Milkovich) - fluff
The Last Of Us
"I love you, Y/n only you" (Joel Miller) - fluff
The Witcher
Silver and White (Geralt of Rivia) - fluff
DC
Pretty (Joker) - Violence
I promise (Slade Wilson) - angst
General's gaze (General Zod) - smut
NCIS
"Fuck you, Dinozzo" (Tony Dinozzo) - fluff
Boardwalk Empire
Gangsters Paradise Pt.1 (Al Capone) - fluff
Gangsters Paradise Pt.2 (Al Capone) - fluff
Gangsters Paradise Pt.3 (Al Capone) - fluff/Violence
Gangsters Paradise Pt.4 (Al Capone) - fluff/Violence
Gangsters Paradise Pt.5 (Al Capone) - fluff
Mafia Pt.1 (Charlie Luciano) - smut
Vecchio Amico (Charlie Luciano) - fluff
Slashers
"The only monster I see is you" (Thomas Hewitt) - smut
All my stories wouldn't fit on this page, so I had to make a Pt.2
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svltzmans · 7 months
Text
illicit affairs - f.g.
a/n: hi! here's a cute little blurb based on a request i got recently 😁 i'm kinda obsessed with this fiona x milkovich! reader concept
warnings: making out (i think that's it) (oh and also this is unedited) (but you probably knew that already lmao)
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"mmmph, fiona," y/n slurs between kisses from her girlfriend. "you're so perfect."
fiona smiles against y/n's lips, not wasting any time pressing hers against them again.
fiona and y/n had decided to keep their relationship under wraps for a while, not wanting to create any commotion.
considering that fiona had never dated a woman before and that their brothers were dating, it would be quite a shock.
nonetheless, the chemistry between them was too strong, and became undeniable.
luckily, it had been possible for them to spend time together when the kids were at school or when fiona was able to sneak off.
fiona climbs on top of y/n, the kiss heating up by the second.
fiona and y/n are too captivated by each other for either of them to hear fiona's bedroom door opening.
"hey fiona, mickey and i are gonna go to- oh, what the fuck?"
it's ian, and he's standing in the doorway with his mouth agape.
behind him is mickey, y/n's younger brother, staring blankly at the scene in front of him.
fiona practically leaps off y/n's lap, knowing they had been caught.
"i, um, ian, i thought you were out for the day?" fiona mutters, flustered by the situation.
"you guys don't knock around here?" y/n jests, trying to provide comic relief. fiona giggles, but ian and mickey are still frozen in shock.
"okay hold on a minute, you two are... fucking? or what?" mickey speaks, gesturing with his hands as he does.
"um, more than that," fiona responds first, noticing that y/n appears slightly unnerved by her brother's reaction.
ian and mickey look at each other, both cracking a smile.
"we both thought we were the gay siblings, jesus," ian laughs, the rest of the room following.
"no better connection than a gallagher and a milkovich, i guess," mickey adds, looking at ian. "right ian?" he says, giving his boyfriend a gentle smack on the ass.
"at least we got a room, unlike you two freaks," fiona quips.
"at least we told you we were dating," ian teases, hoping for a reaction from his sister.
he gets one, with fiona standing and starting to chase him.
left alone in the room, mickey and y/n look at each other for a few seconds.
"y/n?" mickey breaks the silence first.
"yeah?"
"if ian's sister..."
"fiona," y/n interrupts.
"yeah, fiona, whatever, if she hurts you..."
"you don't have to be so protective, mickey. she is to me what ian is to you. you know that."
mickey softens, swallowing the rest of his words.
"fine. just, lock the door if you ever have her over to our house, would you?"
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gatorbites-imagines · 8 months
Text
Kinktober day 7
Mickey Milkovich + Wrestling or sparring
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Still been studying, thanks to my teacher giving us twice as much work than usual, so this isn’t as long as I would have wanted.
I have no idea what warning to put for Mickey talking and thinking the way he does, but mickey warning I guess??
kinktober 2023 masterlist
Mickey Milkovich wasn’t the type to go down without a fight, it laid deep in his blood to never go down, and if he did, to go down swinging. Even just playfighting always lead to real scuffling or outright fighting resulting in bloody noses or knocked out teeth. Apparently, he had anger issues, and they always seemed to flare right up when someone got him swinging. It was why he found himself in some less than stellar gym in the south side, run by some gay guy and his friends.
Everyone knew about the gym’s main owner, (Y/N), his family had lived in the south side as long as anyone else’s, were mixed up in the same stuff as everyone else, and got into trouble like everyone else. Only difference about this guy was that he was openly gay, and would knock anyone out cold if they tried to target him for it. Mickey had found him at the ends of his fists a couple of times, and had always woken up with the sickest migraines, maybe even concussions, though he had never gone to the hospital about it.
(Y/N) had left the south side for a while, apparently he was off to get an education on a scholarship, but strangely enough he had returned to the shithole that was the south side. No one had recognized him as first. He left as a skinny guy who packed an insanely mean left and right hook, and came back packed in muscle and taller, with a confidence that few saw in gay guys in the south side. His muscles weren’t for show either, as rumors quickly spread that his hits were not only harder but quicker than ever.
Then he had opened up a gym for anyone who wasn’t gonna start trouble, and if you did start trouble, he took care of you real quick and efficiently. He had quirked a brow as Mickey stepped into the gym, but like he never questioned the local gun dealer being there, he wasn’t gonna question a milkovich being there as long as he paid. Mickey went about his business, taking out some of his burning anger on the punching bags, trying to put all the hatred and anger in his soul into those punches.
Mickey almost swung around and knocked (Y/N)s teeth out when the taller guy had placed his hand on Mickeys shoulder. “You’re standing all wrong, you’ll mess up your shoulders” he explained, his strong hands grabbing Mickeys arms and pulling him into the better pose.
Mickey wasn’t gonna ever admit that he felt warmth rise to his cheeks as (Y/N) grabbed him and moved him around, it was just cuz the guy was eyecandy around the south side. Few guys cared about their appearance around this part, so seeing a guy who actually bathed on the regular and walked around in tight tank tops always caught Mickeys attention. If Mickey wasn’t the type to deny himself so much, he might have seen how his appreciating stares were returned.
One night when Mickey showed up to the gym, a time where there were never anyone around but the owner, he had been stewing in anger. The punching bags just didn’t seem to be enough, even as Mickey cursed and made his knuckles bleed. (Y/N) had sauntered up in that tight tank top and a pair of sweats that left little to the imagination and goaded Mickey into a spar in the wrestling part of the gym.
In reality it was just some mats laid on the floor and against the walls, no way a place like this could afford an actually wresting ring, but it was good enough. Good enough for Mickey to charge at the guy, his normal south side approach foiled by (Y/N)s actual talent for fighting. Mickey only grew more and more angry the more he kept losing, even as his muscles ached and burned, even as he found himself pinned over and over against the mats.
Mickey growled at the smile on (Y/N)s lips, the guy had been smiling the entire time, and though he was sweating and breathing harder, it was in no way as much as Mickey himself. Even as Mickeys moves grew sloppy as he felt exhaustion creep up on him, his pride wouldn’t let him just give up or call quits.
(Y/N) must have felt some pity, as he finally let Mickey pin him, Mickey crouched above his head, pinning his shoulders with his legs and holding the taller man’s arms above his head. “Good job Mick, you finally got it” he laughed, looking almost too pleased as Mickey panted above him. “That deserves a reward, right?” he almost purred, and before Mickey could question it, (Y/N) had freed his hands and reached up towards the waistband on Mickeys pants.
Mickey choked on his breath as (Y/N) dragged his pants down, freeing Mickeys half hard length to the heated air of the gym. The sparring must have gotten the blood pumping in Mickeys system, and he shivered. On instinct alone Mickey almost jumped to his feet and spat some homophobic comment, but before he could warm lips wrapped around his tip and sucked him down, a broken gasp slipping from Mickeys lips at the action.
(Y/N)s hands gripped Mickeys hips as he lifted his torso to keep bopping his head, taking Mickey down his throat with skill one only got from repeating an action many times. Mickey gripped onto (Y/N)s hair as he thrust his hips with little to no rhythm, panting from the strain in his muscles and the pleasurable feeling as he grew fully hard, his toes curling in his shoes as he shivered.
Mickey groaned as he spilled down (Y/N)s throat, his muscles finally giving out, and if it wasn’t for (Y/N) catching him, he would have tumbled down onto the mats beneath them. Mickey didn’t even notice the murmured praise leaving the taller man, even as he tucked Mickeys spent length back into his pants or rubbed his sore muscles. Mickey didn’t even fully comprehend that he was pulled into what looked like a back room, or that he was placed on a comfortable sofa, or even that he dozed off.
It seemed that the energy that hadn’t been wrung out of him from the wrestling, had been sucked right out of him by the very man that had goaded him into said fight. (Y/N) gave a snort as he watched Mickey become dead to the world, leaving a water bottle beside him before leaving the office to go disinfect the mats. This might be the south side, but he was at least semi professional and serious about his business’s hygiene.
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cosmicck · 8 months
Note
Hi idk if you write for shameless but if you could do Ian and Mickey and a shy male reader who they just love to tease bc they like seeing him get all flustered. Like he’ll start blushing or stumbling over his words
I.GALLAGHER M.MILKOVICH🕷
we goin' dumb
girl, got me fucked up.
mmm this yeah here, lean in my cup
can't tell me 'bout shit 'bout nun'
told the bitch don't shut me up,
wanna see them bands
wanna see them bucks.
bad bitches 'gon love me up,
bad bitches 'gon love me up.
song: . . .ılı GMFU odetari, 6arelyhuman
TW: teasing, male leaning reader(fem welcome because i do not care), i think i made reader a little touch starved, reader is actually shy not that uwu shit(hopefully i did, i word things horrible), bottom leaning reader, you may or may not be able to tell which is my favorite(it's the one who isn't ginger)
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ian gallagher who wouldn't mean to 'make fun of you' in a way, he just found the fact you'd sometimes cling to him or whisper words you were going to say to a waiter to yourself but you'd end up looking at him to take the order for you. watching you mutter a 'thank you' as the woman would write down your order and walk away, he couldn't help but smile, you'd do this almost all the time with others but with him you could talk your ear off if you were really, really, really comfortable. only being comfortable isn't enough you could still barely look him in the eye, you were working on it though. "could you look at me when you're speaking? i feel like you're talking to fifty different people." "i am." "could've fooled me."
mickey milkovich who would think you're rude and weird as shit when he first met you, the looking at me in the eye thing would bug him and itch at him at times. "hey, who are you talkin' to? your eyes are movin' around like thirty miles per second" "i'm talking to you–" "and speak up, no one can hear you sweetheart." the name sweetheart was clearly ironic and he didn't mean it but the laughing fit he'd go into seeing how truly effected you were by it, you looked like your mom caught you up late at night on a school night damn. but as time would pass he'd learn to live with it, not without taking advantage of it of course he wasn't that stupid.
ian gallagher who would purposely scoot closer to you on the couch not for the sake of the two of you being together but the sake of feeling you tense up when all he did was scoot a few and wrap his arm around your shoulder as the movie played. his eyes would linger at your body language with your nails scratching your wrist and your legs rubbing together and crossing sooner or later obvious discomfort but just in a different way he'd fix that for you. "need a little help there?" "n—no." "so yes?" he could just tell you felt pins and needles all around the embarrassment was getting to you like a bitch but damn he was tempting.
mikey milkovich who felt and indescribable feeling having sex with you. obviously he's shared you with ian before, and he's had sex with only ian before and those times were very memorable. but he still loved to have just you, shit anyone could get addicted to you. your body shivering and jolting at almost any touch he'd give you, going a little slow at first then slowly getting rougher with you loving each and every moan, groan, and whimper. the edging wojld be almost never ending and him sucking you off was euphoric, fuck he was talented with his tounge. his tattooed hands holding your thighs to keep your legs open as the warm feeling would bubble in your stomach each and every time you felt like cumming, your legs trying to close together in sensitivity but he wanted to swallow all of you. "you gotta work on tryna' keep your damn legs closed." "i do try.. " "doesn't mean it's not hot, i changed my mind."
ian gallagher and mickey milkovich that loved looking at the different expressions on your face of pleasure which let them know how well they were doing. mickey could have you take him from the back and ian would have you take him in by the mouth instead, your eyes blinking a little faster and rolling back due to the both of them. jealousy talks would be hell between the three, neither you or mickey could fess up to it or explain the hell he was doing wrong. but with just you? shit you were good at hiding it but they could tell if you had something to say. "you gonna tell us whats wrong? or are you gonna sit there lookin' like a bomb that's 'bout to implode." "tell you what? there isn't anything to tell." "you're a terrible liar, put your chin up and say what's the matter." damn this was gonna be a long night.
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theitgirlnetwork · 3 months
Text
Better Index
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The story that Lip Gallagher deserves.
Charlotte Fisher Aesthetic
Ch. 1
Ch. 2
Ch. 3
Ch. 4
Ch. 5
Ch. 6
Ch. 7
Ch. 8
Ch. 9
Ch. 10
Ch. 11
Ch. 12
Ch. 13
Ch. 14
Ch. 15
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devilsjacket · 1 year
Text
Mickey Milkovich thoughts
“Get out before I smash your fucking teeth in” Mickey sounded beyond annoyed, like he was actually considering it, he never would physically hurt you (well not on purpose at least) but it’s not to say the thought hasn’t ever crossed his mind. You hum at his words, body sweating endlessly due to the summer heat, it’s not like you were actually going to leave, not yet. Mickey took note of this and decided not to ask again, he might explode if he did.
“I’m sorry, Mickey, I’d never do anything to hurt you” you said before hesitantly snaking your arms around his waist, pulling him closer to you; taking note of the grumble that came from him when you did.
“Don’t do it again” Mickey said in a smaller voice as opposed to his usual one, he’d never show anyone this vulnerable side to him but for you, for you he’d do anything so I guess he can make an exception.
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Text
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funny-bunny224 · 1 year
Text
Mickey Milkovich x Reader - Protective! Mickey Drabble
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- Having Mickey as a boyfriend is like having your own personal bodyguard. Growing up in Southside, you knew a thing or two about protecting yourself and holding your own in a fight, but Mickey never gave you the chance. If there was even a hint of someone giving you trouble when he was around, best believe he was grabbing the bastard by their collar and making it known he would kill them where they stood. You found it endearing how possessive and protective he was over you, but sometimes he could be a little over the top.
- There would be times the two of you would go out for drinks at The Alibi and you would grab the unwanted attention of assholes who were far too many drinks in to keep count. Rather it be by loud and pervy comments, eyes looking you up and down, or even the occasional confident prick putting his hands on you, they were not shy about showing their interest in you. Which, as you could assume, had Mickey blowing a gasket before you could even finish the first beer of the night.
- You didn’t even have a moment to access the situation or attempt to placate him before he would kick himself back from the bar, stool hitting the ground with a loud clatter as he swung on any and every fucker that had something to say. He would both see and be covered in red, and there was nothing anybody could do to pull him off the bastards until they were beat half dead. Kev would always shake his head when it happened, patience already wearing thin from how often Mickey would rage out on his customers. He would always sigh and toss you a rag after all was said and done, earning a pitiful smile from you as you apologized for what felt like the millionth time.
- You would always hand Mickey his beer after he was done and had returned to you, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he necked the thing like it was a cool glass of water. Picking up his stool, you’d make him sit down so you could go to work on using the rag to wipe away the blood that splattered his face and hands, placing a kiss on his cheek after you deemed it clean enough, ignoring the many eyes of the patrons that were settled on you both. Although you had become immune to blood at this point with how often he was covered in it, you aways had butterflies fluttering in your stomach when it adorned his pale skin.
- You’d never stay too long at the bar after that. Instead, you would pass Kev over the money to close your tab, making sure to also add a little extra for all the trouble before grabbing your boy and making quick work of fucking off before someone called the cops. Although it would dampen your nights out, you couldn’t find it in yourself to be mad. If anything, seeing him lose his shit over you, for you, only served to make you grow more and more in love with Mick.
- You would walk home with him, instantly heading for the shower when you got in. You’d shower with him, taking meticulous, slow care of washing his hair and body of the dried, flaking blood for him as he relaxed into your every touch. Afterwards, you’d both land in your bed, bodies intertwining as you wrapped up in each other’s embrace. You would spend the night lavishing him in kisses, placating his spiraling thoughts as he would grumble on about the audacity of those bastards, arms pulling you into him as tightly as he could. He would go on mumbling about you being his and his alone, and it only made your heart swell more and more.
- He was dangerous and incredibly rough around the edges, constantly losing his cool and lashing out at others, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. You had never felt safer in anyone else’s arms, and you felt more loved than you ever thought possible. He wasn’t perfect, far from it actually, but that only made you love your boy all the more. 
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skxllz · 6 months
Note
Hey... i'm in desperate need of some more Ian and Mickey x reader.. ilysm btw
baby ily too, here you go <3
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
male! reader
“ why the fuck are you starin’ at me like that? ” mickey's voice rang out on the other end of the phone. the signal was icky, so the crinkling of static could be heard through the line.
your fingers pressed to your lips to hold back your laughter. “ I'm not staring at you like anything. ” you heard ian reply - it sounded as if he rolled his eyes, too, just by the tone of his voice.
these two drama kings were always fightin’. even in jail, the two just wouldn't stop. but i mean, I guess that's more than likely to happen since they're in each other's presence every second of the day.
“ yeah the fuck you are, ” mickey accused again, this time scoffing. “ you gonna’ come over here or what? y/n's on the phone. ”
“ no shit, sherlock. I heard ‘im. ”
“ do you want me to bust you in the mouth? ”
“ there will be no busting anyone in the mouth. ” you sighed, rolling your own eyes. that seemed to catch both of their attention, because you heard shuffling —and mickey and ian slightly bickering— before ian's voice met the phone.
“ hey, gorgeous. ” his breathy tone met your ear, causing you to instantly melt. mickey and ian both always had an effect on you, but the red head had ways of making you gush like no other.
“ hiiiii... ” you slowly, shyly replied; trying not to giggle like a school girl while you rolled onto your stomach. you were lying on your bed, legs bent and kicking in the air. “ how's it goin’, i’ ? ”
ian chuckled dryly — and you heard more shuffling, probably him moving the phone to his other ear, before he replied. “ shitty. the guard's here are a pain in m’ass. ”
“ you can say that again! ” the familiar brunette shouted. you heard a bang after that — sounded like something hit the bars of the cell.
furrowing your brows as you heard ian yell, worry clouded your brian. “ what was that? ”
a huff from ian could be heard after a moment of silence. “ fucking— my god, mickey kicked the cell bars to piss off our guard. damn asshole. ”
“ I'm not an asshole — you're an asshole! ”
“ will you two stop? ” you pinched the bridge of your nose, squeezing your eyes shut in irritance. “ you're gonna’ get in trouble. ”
“ already ha— ” a scraping sound and more static cut ian off from finishing his sentence. skin on skin contact was hard, like a slap, and then mickey's voice rang out from the other line again.
“ I'm back. ” he sounded smug. ian could be heard muttering swear words. “ what, uh— ” you could only picture him biting his lip right about now. “ whaddya’ doing? ”
your brows raised in light amusement — releasing the hold you had on your nose, only to slide your fingers down your face and chuckle. “ nothin’. talkin’ to you two dummies. ”
“ I'm a dummy? ” mickey scoffed. “ you wouldn't be sayin’ that shit if I was there, sweet cheeks. ”
you bit your bottom lip, cheeks pinkening at the suggestive threat. “ uh huh, an’ why's that? ”
it was clear mickey was now wearing a shit eating grin by the way he responded. “ your mouth would be too full swallowin’ my cock. ”
aaaaand you were red. curling your fingers closed, pressing them to your lips. it was hard not to squeal — but you were sure as hell curling your toes and kicking your legs excitedly. mickey preferred to bottom, as did you, but when he did top, it was beyond hot.
you were going to reply, but then you heard something over the intercom in the background. it was difficult to make out, the words sounded muffled — but by mickey groaning, you knew it wasn't good.
“ fuck.. ” he muttered.
“ what is it? ” you were concerned again; now worried that something had happened.
mickey sighed, passing the phone to ian. he now had a halfy — a growing erection to deal with, and couldn't speak to you since he was pissed, so he'd let ian deliver the news.
ian greeted you with a sigh, “ we gotta’ go, pumpkin. some stupid ass got us goin’ on a lockdown. probably an idiot that attacked a guard. ”
that made you frown. you had barely been on the phone with them for six minutes — you usually got fifteen. “ seriously? that fucking blows.. ”
a small laugh escaped ian. you could only imagine his pretty smile. “ I know, I know... ‘m sorry. we'll be home soon though, okay? ”
you huffed, “ yeah... okay. I just miss you. ”
“ we miss you, too... ” ian sighed. if anything, he was probably trying not to get too sappy over the phone. god only knows how emotional he can get with you. “ I love you, pretty boy. stay good for us, okay? ”
a smile lifted to your lips — hand sliding up your cheeks, only to lean on it and nod into your palm. “ I love you, too.. and I will. tell mick’ I love ‘im. ”
ian huffed a smile, “ I will. goodbye, y/n. ”
“ bye bye, i’. ”
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thebearer · 4 months
Note
I’m sorry I NEED a blurb on Ronan and Mickeys little bond and Lip being jealous
the sweetest little bond between the two, and the most unlikely. i feel by the time ronan and mia come around, mickey and ian are done with babies so maybe that's how it starts? mickey offers to watch ronan while the others are in school, and you and lip are working.
your soft spoken, sweet, sensitive little boy with... mickey??? and they get along???
like ronan enjoys seeing mickey.
"there's my little guy. what's up, ro? you bring those legos today?"
and ronan is grinning ear to ear, practically bouncing towards mickey with his newest little lego set for them to put together.
to say lip is jealous is an understatement. like mickey and ronan bonding? building legos? lip comes home one day with a little lego set, gives it to ronan and he's soooo excited. before lip can even suggest that they build it together ro goes, "i can't wait to build this with uncle mickey!" and lip is shattered.
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