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#anyways taking a break from writing the fic to smoke n drink bc I NEED TO CHILL OTHERWISE THIS ONESHOT WONT GET WRITTEN AAAAAAA
villruu · 4 months
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I am being so normal :) <-[writing the most self indulgent jam one shot ever]
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I love your last fic so much it got me thinking could you write something about like the gallaghers( +Kev and v and sandy etc) observing Ian and Mickey’s relationship? Like their perspectives of seeing them be soft with each other and just their dynamic? I’m sorry if this doesn’t make sense lol <3
hiiiii anon!<3 okay i want to start off by saying that this got WAY too long, bc i loved this prompt a lot- so much that i think i might make this a multi-part thing on ao3! i started with sandy (since i am in love with her) but i’ll also go through the gallaghers/kev & v soon- lmk if u guys want me to continue, and who u would want me to write next if i do (or if u want me to continue with sandy lol i have lots of thoughts and feelings)
this ended up taking place in s10 when we first meet sandy, fyi:) also tw for brief mentions of abuse (as always, bc of terry 🙄) -- and there is a reference to the line in 10x07 that jokes about mickey and sandy for a brief moment
--
When Sandy heard her phone buzz on that Tuesday afternoon, sitting on the stained and lumpy couch in her shithead uncle’s living room while drinking a beer and arguing with Alek about what type of insurance fraud could make the biggest payout, she had no idea what to expect on the other end of the line. The phone kept ringing, the contact info lighting up the screen: MICKEY.
Mickey? Shit. It had been a long fucking time. Between her own various juvie stints as a kid and Mickey’s time behind bars overlapping just as she got released, Sandy hadn’t seen Mickey since… high school, maybe? Whenever it was, it was back when Mickey was a grimy kid with spikey hair and dirty fingernails, a kid with an obsession with guns and way too much time on his hands, back when they would hang out by the train tracks and drink beer and get way too high and do stupid shit; all in all, back when everything was a hell of a lot simpler. Sandy assumed Mickey had met Royal and been clued in about her shitshow of a life at some point while she’d been gone, and they’d possibly overlapped at a family party or two a few years ago when they both were in town— but other than hearing about the aftershocks of Mickey coming out and driving Terry up a goddamn wall, so much so that Terry broke his parole and was headed straight back to prison hours after his release, Sandy hadn’t seen Mickey in forever.
Which is why this call intrigued her so much— Mickey was supposed to be in prison for at least a couple more years, or at least that’s what his brothers had said, so why the fuck was he using a cell phone right now?
Sandy nodded her head towards the cellphone, cutting Alek off mid-sentence and sliding her thumb across the screen to pick up the call. Before saying anything, she rose off the creaky springs of the couch and speedwalked out to the front porch before answering— whatever the fuck Mickey wanted, she assumed he was calling her because this conversation wasn’t for the ears of any other Milkoviches. She lit a cigarette and leaned against the post of the front stoop, listening to the silence hanging heavy on her phone’s speaker.
“Mickey? You there?”
A low chuckle came from the other end of the line.
“Fuck. Been a long time.” Mickey’s voice sounded the same; punchy and snarky, maybe a little gruffer and raspier after years of cigarette smoke. Sandy waited a moment for Mickey to give more of a reply, or an explanation for his call, but it was clear that Mickey wasn’t going to give one right away— it was like he was testing the waters, like he was deciding if making this call was the right move. Soft static echoed on the phone line.
Sandy totally got it— reemerging from a life of cinderblock cell walls and barbed wire fences fucking sucked, especially when you were a Milkovich and the moment you got out you were faced with a choice, an opportunity: did you want to go back home, or did you want to start fresh, erase your own name, and forget this dysfunctional family ever existed? Sandy knew she felt the same way when she got out. Mickey deciding to call Sandy was a big fucking move, and she realized that— reclaiming your life as a Milkovich on the brink of a new beginning took guts.
“So, I take it you’re out of prison?” Sandy asked after a moment, inhaling another slow puff of her cigarette.
There was that laugh again— Sandy had weirdly missed it. Honestly, Mickey hadn’t ever been too bad to be around— they’d both felt like outsiders in the family, had both always had a strong head on their shoulders and a fucking moral compass, unlike the rest of Terry’s sheep who did his bidding and got swastikas tattooed on their chest. When he was younger Mickey used to follow Terry and his older brothers around like a lost puppy, and he even got those fucking knuckle tats—but later in high school, Sandy remembered seeing something deep snap inside him, bleeding out in “STAY THE FUCK OUT” and “FUCK LOVE” signs taped onto his bedroom walls. At the time she thought it was the fucked-up shit with Terry and Mandy driving him up a wall— but now she realized the constant bombardment of homophobia, coupled with the cuts and bruises blooming on his cheeks and the cigarette burn scars on his arms, must have been signs of Mickey realizing the rude awakening that was inevitably going to come if he wanted to be who he was. Sandy couldn’t even imagine— no one really gave a shit who she fucked, and her cousins didn’t know anything about her sex life—but she couldn’t fathom being Terry’s son, the pride and joy of the Milkovich clan, and needing to outwardly admit those deeper parts of herself.
“Yup, I’m free to join civilization as of this morning. Overcrowding or some shit.” Sandy could hear Mickey also taking a drag of a cigarette on the other end of the line. She smirked to herself. Guess we both didn’t break the Milkovich nicotine addiction.
“So, uh, listen,” Mickey continued, and Sandy immediately knew he was in deep shit if she was the one he was calling to ask for a favor. “I’m in a bit of a… situation. Don’t wanna go into too many specifics, but there might be a massive fucking Mexican cartel after me right now.”
Sandy barked out a laugh before she could help herself. Fucking Mickey. “Oh yeah? Sounds like you’re feeling thrilled to be a free man again.”
Mickey chuckled again. “Fuck you. But hey, d’you think you can bring my shit by to me, so I don’t have to stop by the house and get fucking killed? You don’t gotta rush or whatever, just didn’t wanna show my face quite yet.”
Sandy could feel all the unsaid things wrapped in the way Mickey’s sentence ended. Didn’t want to show his face quite yet because of this cartel bullshit, or because of Terry? She decided it didn’t really matter— Mickey was a good guy, she could spend an hour or so rounding up his shit and bringing it to him if that’s what he needed.
“Got it.” She blew out more smoke, watching it curl and drift over the wasteland of the front yard on a gust of summer air.
Mickey cleared his throat, like he was gearing up to say more. When he spoke, his voice was softer around the edges, more genuine than before.
“I’m, uh. I’m sure you heard everything about me while I was gone. About Terry flipping his shit. Probably not the best idea for me to come around the house quite yet—my brothers n’ I haven’t really talked much since then either.” He paused, inhaling another drag of his cigarette. “I figured you’d get it. And hey, if you can bring the stuff by, I’d love to hear all the badass shit you’ve been up to the past few years.”
Sandy nearly winced—yeah, if by “badass shit” you mean getting forcibly married to a douchebag and then couch surfing for months— but she tried to keep her shit together for Mickey’s sake. She stubbed out her cigarette on the railing of the porch, straightening from where she was leaning.
“I’ve got it Mickey, don’t worry about it. Where are you right now, anyways?”
She could hear the hint of relief bleeding into Mickey’s voice when he replied. “I’m at the Gallagher house? The grey one by the tracks.”
Sandy rolled her eyes. “I was in jail for a couple of years Mickey, not braindead. I know where the Gallagher house is.”
Mickey huffed out a breath, but there wasn’t any sharpness in it. “Excuse me for tryin’ to be helpful, smartass.”
“Why the fuck are you there, anyways?”
“I’m, uh, crashing with my partner for now. Ian?”
Holy shit, Mickey was still fucking Ian Gallagher? Sandy had pieced together that Ian was the reason Mickey came out months after getting married to some Russian bitch, and according to Iggy the whole reason Mickey went to jail in the first place was some love-crazed revenge plot on Ian’s behalf— but since getting locked up Mickey hadn’t kept in touch with anyone, other than a shady-as-fuck message to his brothers after he’d busted out of prison letting everyone know that he was in Mexico, despite getting thrown back into jail in Chicago a couple months later. Sandy didn’t really know the details, and she especially didn’t know anything about Mickey’s love life— but it was wild as fuck that someone as unsettled and ruthless and batshit crazy as Mickey could’ve been with the same person all this time, especially someone as seemingly bland as Ian Gallagher. Huh. Wonder if I’ll get to see Ian.
“Got it. I’ll round up your shit and bring it by the Gallagher house later today. And don’t worry, I won’t let anyone know you called til you’re ready.”
Mickey exhaled on the other end of the line. “There shouldn’t be much, just check the drawers or whatever. “
Sandy knew for a fact that most of Mickey’s lingering possessions had probably been taken, sold, or thrown out by a zealously homophobic Terry by now, but she wasn’t going to say as much to Mickey over the phone.
“I’m on it. See you in a couple hours.”
“Hey, Sandy?” Mickey blew out a long breath, and this time Sandy couldn’t tell if it was because he was still smoking or because he was riding a wave of relief, releasing the floodgates of anxiousness he’d been holding in the whole conversation. “Thanks. I fuckin’ owe you one.”
Sandy smirked. Maybe Mickey being let out of jail early was a good thing, despite how fucked his whole situation seemed— maybe, for once, someone in her family would be fun to be around, wouldn’t set her teeth on edge every two seconds by making a racist comment or forcing her to be something she wasn’t.
“I’ll text you when I’m almost at your love nest.”
She imagined Mickey’s grin as he replied. “Fuck you. See ya soon.”
**
After scraping through every rickety dresser drawer in Terry’s house for nearly an hour, Sandy could barely come up with anything that was reportedly Mickey’s: a couple of tattered shirts, an impressively overused-looking bong, and a single sneaker she’d left behind because she couldn’t find the other one. She threw it all in some shitty burlap rucksack she’d found on one of the bedroom floors, assuming no one would miss it— it dawned on her that maybe her cousins were lying, and some of the other stuff in the house was still Mickey’s, but she’d collected what she could based on the whispered directions Alek and Iggy had given her when Terry was out of the room.
Sandy unlocked her phone, and typed a quick message to Mickey. “Out front.”
Mickey’s reply came quickly, and Sandy noticed the front curtains rustling on the top floor of the Gallagher house.
“Coming down”
The front door creaked open, and Mickey walked out onto the front porch. He looked good; he looked cleaner, sure, but also like a fucking adult—like he’d grown into himself, like he actually carried himself with confidence instead of just pretending to. He nodded his chin up at Sandy in acknowledgement.
“Long time no see.” He smirked, leaning on the banister. “You make a good delivery service. All those hauls we did with Terry must’ve been good training.”
Sandy lazily walked up the front steps, reaching the bag out in front of her for Mickey to take. “Here’s all the shit I could find. It’s not much.”
Mickey jerked his head to the open door behind him. “You wanna come in for a sec?”
Sandy grinned. Why the fuck not. “Sure."
So that was how she found herself perched on what was presumably Ian Gallagher’s bed, watching Mickey ruffle through the burlap bag, his brows furrowed as he realized just how much of his shit was actually gone.
“This everything?”
“As much as I could find.”
They comfortably chatted back and forth about how everyone was— Sandy decided to divulge the fact that Mickey’s brothers were idiots who tried to crawl in bed with her every night, which is something that she had to joke about so she didn’t go fucking insane sleeping under the same roof as them.
“Fuck ‘em, chop their nuts off next time they try it.”
Sandy smirked. Finally, a decent fucking relative. She made some hollow joke about staying with Mickey, alluding to the extra-shitty night decades ago when their cousins had forced them to make out when they were way too high on something.
“Or I could stay here with you. Have fun like we did when we were kids.”
“You know that’s fucked up, right? We’re fucking cousins!”
“Plus he’s taken.” A voice came from around the corner.
Ian Gallagher looked bigger, taller, and more solid than Sandy remembered; he was definitely miles away from the scrawny kid with the bangs who worked at the Kash N Grab that Sandy and her cousins endlessly used to fuck with in middle school. Ian’s shoulders were wide, his body imposing in the tiny room; immediately, Mickey’s aggravated stance softened when Ian walked in, wrapped in a towel from the waist down.
“Oh right, you.” Sandy grinned as Ian hunched over the bed and grabbed his deodorant from the nightstand.
Mickey had turned back to the bag of clothes. “Hey, I had shampoo and shit, is there soap anywhere?”
Sandy rolled her eyes. “You’ve been gone for years, you think your brothers would save that shit for you?” she bit out— and okay, maybe she was a little pissed at Mickey’s brothers for the constant-sexual-assault thing.
Ian just applied his deodorant and leaned in close to Mickey as he passed by the bed towards the doorframe. “You can use mine. We’ll hit Costco later, I’m getting paid.”
It was stupid, but Sandy felt something soft pang in her chest at Ian’s words; it was just now that she was realizing it, but she didn’t think she’d ever seen someone take care of Mickey before, or so… automatically factor Mickey’s needs into a situation. Being a Milkovich was all about scrounging and scraping, and guarding what little you had; a Milkovich would never let someone use their fucking soap just because they cared about them, or not as an immediate reaction anyways.
“Nah, I can’t, man. PO texted me when you were in the shower, he’s got a job for me.”
Ian kept looking at Mickey from where he was leaning in the doorway. “Then give me a list of shit you need, and I’ll pick it up for you,” Ian said in an overly simple tone, like he was mocking the fact that Mickey didn’t realize Ian would run an errand for him.
Sandy smirked. Jesus, Gallagher is whipped.
“Isn’t that cute, little domestic bitches,” Sandy crooned before she could help herself.
Ian stepped into the room again and leaned in towards Mickey, pressing a kiss to Mickey’s cheek while Mickey aggressively tried to uncrumple one of the pile of shirts from the bag.
“Mm, thank you,” Ian said in reply, his voice muffling as he smushed his face closer to Mickey’s.
Mickey instantly smiled smugly as Ian’s lips pressed against his cheek—then he noticed Sandy was staring, so he flipped her off and smiled even wider. What the fuck? Sure, Mickey had flipped Sandy off, but he was practically fucking beaming in a way that Sandy had never seen. God, wonder if I’ll find this shit someday.
Ian detached himself from Mickey and walked out of the room, Mickey’s eyes lingering on his torso. Once Ian had turned the corner Mickey snapped back to attention, fixing his eyes back onto the small mountain of clothes spread on the bed in front of him. Mickey lifted the bong off the bedsheets, and met Sandy’s gaze. 
“You have to go, or d’you wanna hang for a bit? I don’t have to be at work for a couple hours, and it’s gonna suck enough that I should probably be high before I get there.”
Sandy grinned. “Hell yeah, I’m down.”
**
They sat on the rickety back steps of the Gallagher house, silently taking hits and passing the bong back and forth. It had been years since they’d been in the same space, but Sandy and Mickey easily sank into a comfortable silence, passively surrounded by the shrieks of kids playing across the alleyway and the bubbling of water as they inhaled. Mickey blew smoke out of his nose, then sat back so he was leaning against the banister and passed the glass pipe to Sandy.
“So,” Sandy started as she held the lighter to the bong and inhaled deeply. “Ian Gallagher.”
Mickey huffed out a laugh. “Yup. That’s some Romeo and Juliet shit for ya.”
Sandy smirked as she exhaled. “You really fucking love him, huh?”
Mickey eyebrows raised almost imperceptibly as he looked towards her. “Yeah. Guess I do.” He took the bong from Sandy’s outstretched hand. “Took me forever to get shit straight with him, though.”
Ah. So their road to domestic bliss wasn’t as straightforward as it seemed. Sandy’s curiosity was growing.
“Because of shit with Terry?”
Mickey stiffened, coughing a bit as he exhaled smoke, like Sandy’s question caught him off guard. “Shit. Yeah. That too. Let’s just say there were lots of fucking ups and downs, and we both had a lot of shit to unpack.”
Sandy snickered. “You sound like a fucking couples therapist.”
Mickey rolled his eyes. “If you wanna see couples therapy, I should tell you about the months me and Ian were sharing a fucking cell. We nearly ripped each other’s heads off. We literally stabbed someone so one of us might get sent to fucking solitary.”
Sandy’s laughter grew. “Are you fucking serious?”
Mickey grinned, and passed the bong back to Sandy again. “Fuck. Yeah. I fucking love him, though. He’s fucking crazy, and I still can’t let him go.” Mickey looked off into the distance across the alleyway, and either the weed was really hitting him right now, or he was being a very sappy motherfucker.
Sandy nudged Mickey’s knee. “You guys are cute together.” Mickey’s eyebrows raised when he heard the word “cute,” and Sandy quickly tried to rephrase. “Not cute, but y’know. Good for each other. You seem happy. Happy is... good.”
Mickey nodded pensively. “How’re you doing, anyways?”
Sandy shrugged noncommittally. “Eh. We can talk about me another time. How the fuck did you and Ian end up sharing a jail cell, anyways?”
Mickey let out a throaty laugh. “I heard Gallagher was getting locked up when I was down south, so I essentially pulled some strings and fucking snitched on the cartel I was working for. Hauled my ass back up here so we could be together.”
Holy fuck. Sandy’s jaw nearly dropped. “Mickey, you’re batshit crazy.” She shoved him squarely in the chest this time. “Are you fucking serious?! You evaded the feds, were living in Mexico, and you came back for Ian Gallagher?”
Mickey rolled his eyes again, placing the bong on the steps. “I can’t explain it, man. I just didn’t wanna be anywhere else, I guess.”
Sandy leaned back onto the banister. “Shit.” She paused for a moment, wondering if she should ask the next question. “Do you… want me to tell anyone you’re back?”
Mickey glanced over at her, his eyes alert. “Nah. Not yet. That okay with you?”
Sandy nodded. “Of course.” Mickey pulled out his phone, checking the time and presumably looking for a distraction from tiptoeing around talking about Terry— but Sandy had to tell him, had to let him know one more thing.
“Hey, Mickey?”
Mickey looked up. “Yeah?”
“I don’t really know the details of what went down with Terry, or whatever— but I just wanted to let you know that… if you ever wanna come home, I’m on your side. No questions asked. And I think a lot of the others are, too.”
The corner of Mickey’s mouth ticked upward. “Thanks.”
Sandy stood, checking her phone and zipping her leather jacket. “Well, I’d probably let you sober up a bit before your big parolee first day of work.”
Mickey raised a middle finger up to her from where he was seated, but then rose to stand.
“Thanks for comin’ by. And hey—you’re free to crash here anytime. There’s a million fucking kids running around all the time, but there’s always a couch or something open if everyone at home’s giving you too much shit.”
Sandy felt something warm growing in her chest. It had been a long fucking time since someone offered to take care of her, just because they could, just because they wanted to— maybe being a Milkovich wasn’t half bad. Maybe there were some good ones.
Sandy nodded in acknowledgement, and turned to walk down the creaky back steps. Wow. If Sandy was sure of one thing right now, it was that Mickey really, really fucking loved Ian Gallagher.
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mirrorforevers · 4 years
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graham/reader • and i love him
hmmmmmm so
i wrote a lil smutty n angsty gra/fem!reader fic set in the late 90s and im kinda proud of it ‼️
👉🏼 👈🏼 
this is my first work for the blur fandom and im Nervous bc i haven’t been writing for a while and english is not my first language but hope u guys enjoy it anyway - if you enjoy it enough i’ll post it on ao3 too, aight? also this hasn’t been beta’ed by anyone so yeah. also feel free to send me a message if u want to beta it in case you wanna see it there. aaaaaaaaa
tw: alcoholism
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You haven't been sleeping very well these days.
Any noise, no matter how insignificant, would wake you up. When there weren't noises, there were nightmares that you were losing him - those were the worst nights. Many times you woke up crying because everything was so real, and you couldn't have peace even in your moment of rest.
Sometimes it was difficult to love him.
The memories of the long lazy days you spent watching TV, painting each other's backs and tasting all sorts of bizarre treats he brought from the different countries he travelled to with his band were gradually replaced by memories of corrosive words exchanged between the two of you and moments where either you or he ended up crying in each other's arms - out of shame, out of despair, out of frustration. But that didn't mean that you were loving him any less, just that your individual tribulations sometimes got too heavy even to share.
You knew he was going through a very difficult time, but he didn't open up to you very much about it and it frustrated you on a level that you could barely describe. Being in a serious relationship was something so new to you, and it helped you so much in your bad times, and you just couldn't understand why he didn't trust you like you trusted him. "It's not that I don't trust you, you're the most important person in the world to me," he'd typically say. "It's such a terrible feeling, and I just want it to go away. I don't even like to talk about it."
This is the same thing he says to you with teary eyes as the hot water in the shower wets your skin and his. For the third time that week, you had to help him, without even having the opportunity to take your own clothes off, to take off his clothes that smelled unbearably of alcohol and sweat and to take a shower. You no longer had the strength to argue or lecture him, and your silence of resignation somehow seemed to hurt him even more. He tried to bring up other subjects and remind you of good things, and your throat seemed to close more and more. Before your eyes could also fill with tears, you just left a small, shaky "Gra, please... let's just get this over with." escape from your lips. He got the message, maybe. And he agreed to have his hair washed in silence.
After you help him dry off and choose clean underwear, sleep got the best of him and then it was your turn to take a shower and try to sleep. You swore he was asleep a long time ago, when, just before you fell asleep, you heard an almost whispered, fragile "I love you" coming from the other side of the bed. It somehow hurt you more than it should - it's been so long since you've wanted to hear it from the man you truly know - a sober Graham, a little unsure of himself but a guy with such a full and gentle heart. You knew that his problem with drinking was not just the search for overcoming that insecurity, but a constant attempt to escape from the reality that, years before, he thought he wanted to be part of. And as for that, there was not much for you to do. But you still missed it so much in another context, in what now seems to be an eternity ago.
By some miracle, you did not wake up in the middle of the night due to some noise caused by Graham or due to some nightmare, but only in the morning thanks to the sunlight illuminating your face. But Graham was no longer on your side, and you closed your eyes, sighing. Another long day without him among thousands of rehearsals and concerts and meetings and photoshoots he had to attend, which anticipated yet another long night of ill-resolved fights.
"I'm terribly sorry for fucking up again." And then you opened your eyes. There he was, now with a shirt over the underwear you chose for him, his voice as low as ever. Without his glasses.
Finally, the Graham you knew. Your eyes light up and you move to get up from the comfortable bed you shared when he interrupts you. "No, stay right there."
"I've been missing you." You say with an almost whiny voice, a faint but genuine smile taking over your expressions. "Don't you have *anything* to do today?" You ask, as he pulls out a camera to photograph you in your current position - messy hair, while wearing only his t-shirt. You don't hide from the clicks. After being satisfied with the result, he positions himself between your legs, and you spend a few minutes in silence in that position, face to face, just reading each other's expressions so closely.
It was very difficult not to love the beautiful boy in front of you.
"I do." And with that, he places a very soft and loving kiss on your lips, which slowly incorporates the latent desire burning on both of you. It's so good not to taste the alcohol, just the mouthwash with the touch of a cigarette that he just smoked. He only stops after a few more long pecks, calmly brushing away some of the strands of hair off your face, "I'm sorry for being such a cunt. Things are being very difficult for me lately."
You look away from him so you don't cry. This subject really breaks your heart. "Things are very difficult for me too."
He calmly brings your face up to look at him again. "They don't have to be. I don't want to make you go through this. I swear I will try to get help."
This is not the first time he has said this. But you pretend to believe him. And this time, you start the kiss, a little more fervently than before. Perhaps this is a silent agreement between you two. You feel something slowly grow beneath you, and you move against the feeling, making you both gasp softly in the middle of the kiss. The lips part, and then he looks into your eyes deeply again, both foreheads touching - as he silently asks you for permission to make it up to you. You just nod between heavy shared breaths. He goes to kiss you intensely, albeit very lovingly, while slowly lowering his hand to your clit, where he begins a slow circular movement. You close your eyes, and he pleads, quietly – “Keep looking at me, love”.
Gradually, you start to grind harder against his talented fingers, and when he realizes that your body is prepared enough (and quickly expresses it to you - "fuck, you really missed me", making your cheeks burn), he inserts two fingers into you, while insisting on the circular movements that delighted you so much. You're having goosebumps and you slowly feel that delicious wave of heat build up in you as he continues with his movements. You surprise him by kissing his neck slowly between timid but sincere moans that gradually escape from you. His voice trembles with arousal. "This is all about you, love. But that's quite nice." When he feels your body stiffen, and hears your moans become more urgent, he stops his movements and gives you a kiss on the cheek that borders on mockery, giving a small laugh with your grunt of protest. He mutters a small "Be patient baby, please. Come on my mouth instead.". Graham's hoarse voice in your ear almost kills you. He raises the hand that was stimulating you in an absurd way seconds before to lift and remove your shirt, basking in the sight of your breasts - hands sliding down your sides, he lifts your chest to his mouth, which makes you happy but it does not meet 100% of your needs. He knows that. And he wants to take his sweet time while his talented tongue takes turns between each of your breasts for a while, eliciting smaller moans from you but still giving you so much pleasure.
Honestly, what a view. His big brown eyes, when not closed due to his determination and focus on making you feel good, sometimes fixes on yours and the cloud of attraction between you two almost becomes tangible. Then, he quickly lifts up to give your mouth a sensuous kiss while his hand then makes its way down your body, taking a detour at your already sensible breasts to grab one and give it a slow squeeze. "You're so fucking beautiful. I love you." His pure adoration for you drips from his voice, and you feel like you're about to burst from how much in love and horny you are.
"I love you too."
He gives you that goddamn smile that melts you every time before he lowers himself again, this time placing his head between your thighs while snaking his arms above them, trapping you in what is about to be a hell of a great time. He begins on an exploratory pace, then gradually starts eating you out with passion, though not forgetting to be gentle enough so he doesn't hurt you or seems inexperienced. That he *really* isn't.
He moans deliciously on your clit the moment your grip on his hair tightens - he loves it when you're rougher with him, a sub at heart, really, though he's undoubtedly getting better at dealing with your more submissive side lately. Your body is reacting in the prettiest ways, and he recognizes it's the time for his fingers to be inside of you again. You have to contain yourself not to wake up your neighbors with the sound of your excitement, and you bite your finger. You can't help but buck your hips in response to the stimulation. “Gra–God. I--I need to--”
“Keep still, darling. I know what you need,” His eyes are gleaming with mischief when one of his hands moves to rest on your waist so he can hold you in place. It's too much, and when he hears your quiet pleas and sees your back arching and the frozen expression of pure pleasure in your face, he intensifies his movements and you freeze - your legs twitch and he lets you ride your orgasm freely on his gorgeous, hungry mouth.
You looked down to see his chin was resting on your stomach as he gazed up at you with *that* infatuated look that suited him so well along with the cheekiest smile - he keeps his thoughts to himself before his suggestion makes your satisfied smile grow even wider: "Let's spend the day together. I still feel like I owe a lot to you.".
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lavenderlattaes · 4 years
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txt as high school au tropes
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⇒ summary: txt in a high school au setting.
⇒ [ high school! au ]
⇒ pairing: txt x reader
⇒ word count: 2.5k words
⇒ genre: fluff
⇒ warnings: cursing, mentions of fighting, parties, making out
⇒ note: hello,, yeonjun’s cover got me so emo last night that i knew i just HAD to finish this so i can finish the bad boy au i had started writing for him sksks. Also i only had a bad boy fic planned for yeonjun, but if you guys think i should write for the other members too, please send me an ask! ignore mistakes bc im a bit of a blind bat and enjoy!  \ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ/
choi yeonjun:
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↳ the bad boy
YES.
C’mon guys, this is badboy!!!! Yeonjun!!!!
okay, so yeonjun’s definitely the leather jacket wearing, motorcycle riding kind of badboy
the one that gets into all the fights (ง’̀-‘́)ง
the one that smokes and drinks and punches his way around bc he cannot, for the life of him, control his emotions and feelings ‾͟͟͞(((ꎤˋ⁻̫ˊ)—̳͟͞͞o
he’s also hardly at school
but on the rare days that he’s actually at school, he’s always punching someone or he’s all bloodied and bruised
like,,, dude do you wanna die N O W???
the first time you met was at the nurse’s office
oh wow i wasn’t expecting that
the nurse wasn’t around but you volunteered there frequently, so you were the only one there
the door opens and you’re surprised to see someone you’re not familiar with??
he wasn’t wearing your school’s uniform,,,
who is this dude and why is he heRE
but he looked like shit and like he was gonna die
so even if he may be part of some sketchy gang
you had no choice but to patch him up pspspsps
he was covered in scratches and bruises and his lip and eyebrow were bleeding
ffs man
you told him to go sit on a bed while you went around looking for all the supplies you needed
yeonjun was being a lil shit too, bc he wouldn’t cooperate right away but eventually after threatening him that he might die if he was being choosy about who’s gonna patch him he gave in
so you started to patch him up and he was just
s t a r i n g 
like 
⊙﹏⊙
D U D E
he’s really attractive if he just wasn’t into fighting all the time y’know
girls still occasionally wanna try “breaking his badboy rep” 
all that cliché stuff
you get really conscious under his gaze and then he asks for your name and you ask him what happened instead psksks
he goes (◕︵◕)
so you give him your name fAM AND HE SAYS, “I’m Choi Yeonjun”
pspspspp
and then he tells you that he’s friends with two other choi dudes who are also really well known in your school
and then it hits you
HE’S THE BADBOY EVERYONE’S TALKING ABOUT
damn y/n you’re so lost fam 
lmao so he does go to your school but you’ve never seen him before????
you finally finish patching him up and you wrap his knuckles in a gauze and his arm as well
hIS ARM HAD A HUGE ASS CUT btw
“what kind of fight did you even get into?” (´・(´・(´・(´・(´・(´・д・`) ・`)・`)・`)・`)・`)
“the kind where I almost die???” ( ̄ω ̄;)
eye-
after getting him all patched up, you take a good look at him and whew he’s all better now
he doesn’t look like he’d die any minute 
then you smile at him like (✿◠‿◠)
AND HE SAYS 
“I like your smile, can I call you sunshine?”
PSPSPSPSPSPSP
yeonjun’s about to leave when you’re still bothered by the large cut on his eyebrow
“Wait!”
you pull out a cute rubber ducky cartoon band-aid from your pocket and place it on top of the cut sKSKSKKS
after he finally leaves and says goodbye, yeonjun suddenly can’t stop thinking about you
and maybe, just maybe, you can’t stop thinking about him too.
choi soobin:
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↳ the rich kid
okAY so remember how badboy! yeonjun was friends with 2 other chois
Well duh who would those other two be (●´ω`●)
so soobin’s the riCH KID!!
like, he be drippin in finesse yo
(okay that was bad)
he wears gucci, channel, louis vuitton, armani, all that shit
tO SCHOOL
jk you guys had uniforms
but there’s always something expensive on him
whether it be his shoes, or his bag, or maybe a ring
AND EVERYONE LIVED FOR RICH KID CHOI SOOBIN WEARING HIS ROLEX 乂❤‿❤乂
but he isn’t exactly the friendly type (๑◕︵◕๑)
he’s the quiet one out of the three of them and he always keeps a straight face
\|  ̄ヘ ̄|/
Like that ^^^^
despite having literally no emotion on his face whatsoever, his lips always seem to be upturned in a pout ksskskksks
and despite his cold personality, that doesn’t stop the girls from swooning over him lol
so,, y/n you’re a pretty clumsy simpleton
dID I JUST USE SIMPLETON
and you somehow,,, idk 
the world hates u
you accidentally bump into him like really hard when he was adjusting his precious Rolex on his wrist and the collision caused his Rolex...to...fly…
basically you broke his watch.
sKSKSKSKSKSKKSKS DUDE
Y/N YOU BETTER RUN AWAY NOW FAM
and everyone that was there was like :000
And soobin is just ( •̀ω•́ )σ
And you’re ಥ_ಥ
but he just sighs, picks up his broken watch and slips it into his pocket and walks away as if nothing happened
HNGGGGG o(╥﹏╥)o
you’re so guilty that you started to come up to him everyday asking how you could repay him and if you could,,, you know,, pay for it in six months time or some shit
and after a few days soobin’s had enough of you following him around
and ( ̄ー ̄)ノ
“can you stop annoying me? It’s an expensive watch, you can’t possibly pay for it”
wOW OKAY :///
“But i feel really bad for breaking it...( ˃̣̣̥ω˂̣̣̥ )”
so soobin decides to make you his “servant”
and you know it’s stupid ,,, just bc he’s rich as hell doesn’t mean he can treat you like that
but he wasn’t giving you any options so you had no choice
you followed him around now and well, somehow
you got to know the real choi soobin hiding under all that expensive clothing and jewelry
the choi soobin that built his walls up so high that no one saw except his other two friends
and now, you.
choi beomgyu:
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↳ the heartbreaker
YES CHILDREN
THIS BOY
steals hearts left and right
or: also known as the fuckboy
skskskksksks
he slept around and girls always fell victim to his charms
aside from the fact that he was just really really good looking and handsome and gorgeous and-
he was also really friendly and funny
you’d see him at parties all the time, and sometimes with soobin and yeonjun too 
there’s always a random girl on his arm too lmao
beomgyu’s never brought a girl to bed more than once before
it’s always just making out for like hours and one night stands here n there
and flings here and there
never had a serious relationship ever
and all the girls at school are fighting to be the one he decides to “do” more than once
(・_・ヾ
i mean,, who wouldn’t want to be the first girl choi beomgyu ever fucks more than ONCE 
but you just can’t seem to share the same sentiment with the other girls at school
shouldn’t they be fighting over who gets to be his first serious girlfriend or sumth? the girls in your school r weird tbh
besides,, you’re too busy looking for new memes or something and aren’t fuckboys supposed to be the type to do one night stands anyway???
but you know, you’re the mc in this world y/n
and you caught beomgyu’s eye bc he’s always noticed you on your phone laughing at something or bopping your head to some cool new song
he can’t stop smiling every time he sees you do that
BC YOU’RE JUST SO CUTE AND OMFG IS CHOI BEOMGYU CATCHING ACTUAL FEELINGS
and get this,,, beomgyu’s never been the type to be all shy and flustered bc that’s just so not him
but then you get partnered up for a project and suddenly you’re approaching his desk with a bright smile on your face and 
sKSKSK heLP HIM SOMEONE P L E ASE
“hi! I’m y/n!” you extend your hand out for him and he just
ฅ(*°ω°*ฅ)
seeing beomgyu all flustered makes you giggle and he breaks out of his trance and goes back to his old self
“Hey, y/n. Let’s have a great time together(づ。◕‿‿◕。)づ”
so that’s how you and beomgyu become friends
even after the project ended you still hung out and you even became somewhat friends with yeonjun and soobin
you sometimes went to parties with him too
and whilst beomgyu fell deeper for you
you remained clueless as ever
you just thought it was him being friendly and stuff bc that’s what he does
what you did notice though
beomgyu hardly made out or slept with anyone at parties now
he hung out with you and played games with you and with soobin and yeonjun
and he didn’t usually go to parties now if you couldn’t make it!!!
and everyone can clearly see how much he LIKES?? LOVES?? you 
so yeah, maybe beomgyu’s gotten rid of his fuckboy ways bc of you.
kang taehyun:
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↳ the valedictorian
name a smarter guy in your school than kang taehyun. Go
jk never gonna happen HE’S the smartest
literally breezes through his subjects like it’s nothing
idk how it works for you guys but in my school, we don’t have GPAs and stuff but anyway
he has like, an average grade of 99 (*•̀ᴗ•́*)و ̑̑ (and that’s a 4.0 GPA right????) 
PSPSPPS WHAT THE HECKITY HECK
and all the teachers love him ofc
he doesn’t have to sit in front to be THIS smart
he can sit at the back row and be all emo with choi yeonjun if he wanted to and he’d still ace a test
h o w ⊂•⊃_⊂•⊃
and not only that
he’s got a really good voice?? he’s in choir omg
no,,
he has the voice of an angel ★~(◡‿◡✿)
he hits high notes like how he breezes through his subjects
he’s the type of guy you bring home to meet your parents after one (1) date bc they’ll love him anyway
aND if he could get any more perfect,,,, he’s captain of your football team AND class president
AND I SAY WHAT
yUP
kang taehyun best boy _へ__(‾◡◝ )>
and you?
HAH
you guys are a match made in heaven
you’re his vice president, and while he’s in choir, you’re part of your school’s journalism club
plus, you’re smart enough to go against him but you like slacking off lmao
also
“you have all the glory in high school tae, i’ll kick your ass in college” PSSPPS
And if taehyun’s the captain of the football team, you’re captain of the volleyball team just bc
goals? I think so too (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧
but sigh,,, yunno
as smart as taehyun is, he’s a bit dumb when it comes to matters of the heart
THIS IS THE ONLY TIME WE CAN CALL KANG TAEHYUN DUMB!! BECAUSE!! HE!! CAN’T!! SEE!! HOW!! MUCH!! YOU!! LOVE!! HIM!! (;¬_¬)
you’ve always loved him, but you realized it only when you guys won the science quiz bee the year before ⊂( ◜◒◝ )⊃
basically, you’ve loved him for more than a year now,, sigh
and you’re just trying to find the right opportunity to confess
wHEN BOOM you suddenly remembered you’re on the school paper!!!! ⌒°(❛ᴗ❛)°⌒
v-day is right around the corner and since you’re editor in chief, you decided that it would be nice to have a lil fun in preparation for the event
so you got the whole school dropping anonymous love notes for their crush!!
and the club went around pasting them on lockers for the students so they don’t risk the chance of getting caught pspsps
totally smart idea huh !(•̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑
all for the sake of confessing your feelings for your best friend.
hueningkai:
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↳ the popular guy 
this boi
loved by everybody
and i mean everybody
even yeonjun and soobin who seem like they don’t give two flying fucks about anything
like literally everybody wants to be his friend !!!
there’s nothing people have to hate him for honestly
he’s in choir with taehyun 
he follows no crowd bC THE CROWD FOLLOWS HIM SKSKS
“hey, kai!”
“ey, wassup! I like your top!”
(▰˘◡˘▰)
he’s a cute babie too oomf
the girls that aren’t swooning over yeonjun or beomgyu or soobin are definitely swooning over him
(with taehyun they’ve lost all hope bc they know his best friend’s the only one that’s supposed!! to!! stand!! next!! to!! him!!)
kai’s also really sweet and nice to everybody,, and i mean everybody
he talks to everyone, even those emo kids who sit at the back row
and even they can’t resist smiling :) 
he’s that kind of popular guy that’s really preppy and fun to be around
he’s the type to help girls carry their books, or help guys plan on how to ask their crushes out
everyone knows a lot about him bc he doesn’t hesitate to share and talk about his life bc he literally has no trust issues whatsoever
not in a bad way, tho!! he’s just really honest n stuff
but
the one thing that everyone doesn’t know about him is that he can play piano sksk ♫꒰・◡・๑꒱
they know he can sing, but they didn’t know he played piano like???
he’s never brought it up before
but one time you find him playing the piano in the music room
you’re in the art club and you guys usually stayed behind after school to work on your paintings and stuff when you were feeling like it
and it just so happened that you were staying behind bc you entered into an art competition and you had only two weeks left to complete your painting
but lately you’ve been running out of inspiration and decided to clear your thoughts first before going back to your painting
what’s that beautiful melody??? 
【・_・?】
and it led you to him and you were surprised to see mr. popular in the room
(*゚ロ゚)
and you didn’t mean to, but the door was ajar and you push it open even further to hear the song better
DUMB MOVE
a chair was resting behind the door and it screeched on the floor spsps
Kai turned around and saw you
“oh! Hey y/n”
he stopped playing and you could see a faint blush on his cheeks ≧◡≦
“you play piano? i never knew” you decided to just step inside bc he wouldn’t mind right? rIGHT???
yeah,, if he didn't have such a big PHAT CRUSH ON YOU
“uh yeah, it helps me to clear my mind sometimes”
“i was taking a break too, i couldn’t finish my painting”
sKSKSK AND KAI FOUND THAT PERF OPPORTUNITY TO SPEND TIME W YOU BY OFFERING YOU HIS COMPANY TO GO AROUND
he’s always liked you, ever since you were lab partners for an entire year,,
you occasionally talked, but since he was on the more popular side and you had a smaller group of friends it was hard for him to find proper alone time with you
but life’s good to this baby and he finally got to spend his time with you.
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