#i hope you like this lil ditty in second person pov

[gallawitchxx]

gallavich kiss #43 please hehe

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send me a number & i'll write you a smoocheroo 😚

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#43: ...out of greed

Holy fuck.

Mickey Milkovich is in your bed.

If it hadn’t happened to you—if you couldn’t still taste the tang of his spunk in the back of your throat—you might not believe that it happened at all. Most have a better shot at winning the lottery than they do at seeing the business end of the permanently inked vines and chains that intertwine before disappearing beneath the cuff of Mickey’s rolled-up sleeves. In the three years you’ve been harboring a dangerous crush on your best friend and roommate’s brother, you’ve never known anyone who’s made the acquaintance of the huge blue lilies that bloom across his chest, swirling around soft pink nipples.

Until now.

Until you.

Holy fuck!

Mickey Milkovich is in your bed!

The previous night had seemed like any other Friday night: Mandy had insisted on having people over, and you were too impressed by her continual efforts to make friends to put up much of a fuss. Besides, you knew the chances were good that her foul-mouthed doppelgänger would show up before the night was over, a cigarette dangling from his sinful lips.

And you were right—ten minutes after midnight, your Southside Cinderella sauntered through the door and headed straight towards you, plopping his perfect ass down next to you on your ratty couch.

Long night? you’d asked, offering him a sip of your beer.

Your reward was a cock of his expressive brows and the pleasure of watching him swallow. ‘M just gettin’ started, Red.

You didn't expect the nickname, so it hit you square in the gut, which is how you found yourself in the alleyway behind your apartment building, smoking a spliff as Mickey’s greedy gaze roamed your recovering body.

Thanks to school and meds and a pair of lagoon-blue eyes, it’d been a minute since you’d gotten any real action. But historically, you'd been good at picking up what’s put down, and Mickey seemed to be laying his cards on your table, one lick of his slightly chapped lips at a time.

You could have blamed the weed seeping into your system, or maybe it was the primal pulse of the full moon overhead that made your blood sing and your hands itch... Either way, your belly burned too bright to bear, and before you could stop yourself, you shoved a shocked—but smiling—Mickey up against the wall.

Sorry, Mandy, you thought as you looped your fingers underneath her brother's gold chain necklace and pulled his hips flush against yours. The need was just too great, and your willpower was far too compromised to hold back any longer.

Your lips against his could have destroyed whole universes.

Funny thing was, you wouldn’t have cared one bit.