#poking eyes mickey

[abra-ka-dammit]

professor mickey has no business looking like that

i bet you hes a dragon in this one too

[shakespeareanwannabe]

As You Wish, Epilogue

Summary: When arriving at Camp Silver Star, Abby Floyd was anticipating a summer of adventure with an ocean separating her from the three people she loved most: her mom, her Uncle Bob and her Aunt Natasha. But after a run in with Charlie Seresin, an extremely familiar looking and irritating camper in a different cabin, her summer plans take a turn that neither girl ever could have expected.

Trigger Warnings: reader's children are described as being blond with green eyes because genetics are wild and Jake's genes are strong, reader is canonically Bob's sister (but biological relation is never discussed), reader goes by Buttercup and is tattooed, references to babies, swearing, extreme happiness and sappiness, talk of babies, talk of pregnancy, talk of PPD

Seresin Family Ranch, Clifton, Texas, Twenty-Two Months Later

The pictures from the day would be displayed on walls, tucked into photo albums and pulled out to coo over for years to come, and a few would even manage to make it into a country living lifestyle magazine. There were the typical shots, of course. The bride and bridesmaids getting ready, the best man and groomsmen standing around while drinking with the groom, the ivory lace dress hanging against the lilac walls of the home office that had been deemed Team Bride Headquarters. Reminiscers would talk about how sweet the groom’s surprise mimosa brunch was, and some would sniffle over the handwritten love letter that the bride had given the groom to read on the morning of their wedding, preserved so carefully between the plastic protective pages in the photo album.

What the photos wouldn’t be able to tell them, however, was just how excited and nervous the bride was on the morning of her wedding.

The day had dawned more perfectly than anyone could have predicted. The birds were chirping, the Sun was quickly warming the ranch landscape, and the men in the field outside her window were giggling like schoolgirls as they played a round of Dogfight Football, shirts versus skins. The two foam footballs were flying back and forth, and the old aviators were showing Javy’s high school football players how they played football in the Navy. Those boys had been recruited to put up the tents, set up the chairs, and decorate the new barn with all the décor that had been so painstakingly chosen, but Buttercup couldn’t bring herself to be mad about the delay. They were all having fun, they had several hours to put up the décor before guests began arriving, and, more importantly, Jake Seresin was looking particularly good in the morning light. She could see his muscles rippling under his sun kissed skin as he pretended the football in his hands was a grenade, pulling the ‘pin’ with his teeth and tossing it over his shoulder, sending Javy, Bradley, and Mickey to the ground with the force of the ‘explosion’.

“Ugh…” Natasha muttered, appearing at her side to stare down at the impromptu football game from Buttercup’s office window. “Remind me why they get to be outside playing football and we have to be up here, getting poked and prodded?”

Buttercup giggled and let her curtain fall back into place. “Hey, Jake offered you a spot on Team Groom. Don’t blame me for choosing Team Bridesmaid instead.”

Natasha scoffed. “Like I would choose that dickhead over you.”

Buttercup rolled her eyes and turned from the window, her eyes catching on the clock that hung above her desk. They were two hours from showtime, and she felt her nerves catch in her throat before sinking to reside low in her belly.

“Watch your language, Nat.” Buttercup’s voice was soft, but with a biting edge that spoke to her anxiety.

“Seriously?” Natasha rolled her eyes.

“Oui,” Genevieve quipped, standing from the hair and makeup artist’s chair and sweeping towards them, looking like she had stepped out of the pages of Vogue. “I will not have my son picking up such nasty language.” Gen stooped to gaze down at six-month-old Mathieu, asleep in his Pack N Play.

“I hate to break it to you, girl, but your son has been hanging around ranchers, football players, and aviators since birth. If his first word isn’t a curse, I owe Mickey twenty bucks.” Natasha’s infectious laugh had a smile pulling at Genevieve’s stern frown.

“Non,” she replied with a loving look down at her son. “He will be soft-spoken. Like his father.”

Natasha’s voice dropped to a comedic whisper as she leaned towards Buttercup. “Has she even met Bob?”

This time, Genevieve couldn’t help her laugh. “Yes, I have met my husband, now stop distracting me. We have to get the bride dressed for her big day now.”

Natasha nodded, suddenly completely focused on her role as Maid of Honour. “Get over here, Buttercup. Let’s get you into this thing.”

Buttercup nodded and sighed before shrugging off her silk ivory robe, willing herself to relax as Genevieve and Natasha helped cinch her into the lacy ivory A-line dress. She looked…different. She felt different. Life on the ranch had changed her. She had loved her life in London, and she always looked forward to that quarterly week-long visit, but she hadn’t realized just how much it had taken out of her until she was looking at her old life from afar. The rainy weather, the big city, being asked to write and edit in a cramped office…it hadn’t been for her. She had made it work because she had needed the change, but she didn’t miss it. No, the Texan sun, the small-town living, the freedom to work and write from home made her feel more like herself than she had in years. And the man she woke up to every morning played a huge part in that.

She and Jake had started out living in separate rooms, but it hadn’t lasted long, especially since they often found themselves sneaking into each others’ rooms for some quality, private, adult time. But even when they were in separate rooms, she would wake up to find he had left a bouquet of flowers outside her door, or her favourite breakfast prepared in the kitchen. In turn, she left him little notes to find throughout the day. A scrap of paper in his Stetson that told him how much she loved him, a blue sticky note asking him out on a date stuck to his computer screen, a folded piece of paper under his pillow detailing how much she ached for him. Their marriage councillor helped them work through any remaining issues and communicate in a healthy way when they fell back into old patterns. Their family therapist helped the girls work through how they felt about everything, ensuring that they wouldn’t get their hopes too high in case things fell apart again. And they didn’t. Every day, their relationship grew and strengthened into something that couldn’t be shaken.

Six weeks after moving to Texas, Buttercup moved into Jake’s bedroom. Six months after moving into his bedroom, they dropped their marriage counselling to once every three months. Three months after that, Jake took her out to the gazebo, ate chicken parmesan with her under the stars, got down on one knee, and asked her to marry him. She had agreed through her tears, and they celebrated with 3 a.m. grilled cheese and a bottle of beer. And now, after almost a year of planning, she was about to become Mrs. Seresin again.

The ivory gown flowed around her feet as Geneveive expertly began lacing up the corset-style back and Buttercup held back her tears as best she could. She felt beautiful, worthy of standing next to Jake at the altar.

The door to the office opened and Abby and Charlie strolled in wearing their peach-coloured junior bridesmaid dresses.

“Oh my god…”

“Mum…”

Buttercup smiled tearfully at her teenage daughters. “Do you like it?” The girls had unfortunately missed out on wedding dress shopping because they had been at school while Natasha accompanied Buttercup back to London for a joint shopping/work trip.

“You look so beautiful,” Charlie sniffled, treading softly into the room to stand next to her mother.

“Like a fairy tale princess,” Abby tacked on, cuddling into her mother’s side and being careful not to smear her makeup on the light fabric.

Buttercup hugged both her girls close and smiled at them in the mirror. “I love you both so much.”

“We love you too, mom,” they chorused as a flash went off and Maryanne smiled at them from the doorway, lowering her phone.

The slightly older woman was already dressed in her rose-pink coloured bridesmaid dress and had been put in charge of wrangling the boys until the ceremony.

“Okay,” she clapped her hands. “Reuben has successfully trapped all the groomsmen in the cabin to get dressed. Javy’s football team have set out all the décor, Penny and Amelia are double and triple checking everything to make sure it’s just right, and the photographer is with the boys to get some candid shots. The officiant is here, the caterers are all set up, and the bartender is just arranging all their gear. DJ is in the barn and guests should start arriving in the next hour or so.”

Buttercup sighed in relief. “Maryanne, I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

“Don’t worry, honey,” she smiled as she took a seat on the plush couch on the corner. “We’re all here for you.”

As Buttercup gazed around the room, she felt a rush of love wash over her. This was her family. She had both her daughters in her arms. Natasha was as close to a sister as she had ever had. She felt so blessed to have Genevieve as her sister-in-law, and Mathieu was the sweetest nephew she could have ever asked for. Maryanne had been her rock through the whole wedding planning process, and Buttercup was more thankful than ever that both Mickey and Reuben had been able to be home for the wedding. The whole Daggers Squad had been able to make it out to the wedding, and Buttercup knew that, within the hour, the ranch would be swarming with people from Clifton, friends from London, acquaintances from the book world, and Navy personnel.

Buttercup sniffled as she smiled at the women in her life. “I love you all.”

Nat squeezed her shoulder and grinned. “We love you too. Now let’s go get you married. Again.”

Jake gazed around the crowded barn as friends and family from around the globe ate and drank and danced, and he felt at peace. It was a strange feeling, especially when he was surrounded by people, but it only spoke to how much he had changed since he had first been called to Top Gun. Back then, he had been all about himself, screw anyone and anything that got in his way of being the best of the best. But he had changed. Falling in love, being a dad, getting divorced, and working his way back into his Buttercup’s life had altered him on a fundamental level.

Speaking of, his beautiful bride was sitting next to him, leaning against him while nursing a tall glass of bubbly as their friends tore up the dance floor.

“Have I told you today just how beautiful you are?” he murmured, leaning in to nuzzle her ear.

“Maybe not in words,” Buttercup grinned up at him. “But your tears while I was walking down the aisle definitely got the message across.”

With a low chuckle, Jake reached around and gave her thigh a quick pinch through the lace of her dress. “Brat…” He rubbed the spot, soothing the sore as he kissed her cheek. “You’re the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.”

“Much better than the first time, right?” she giggled, placing her glass down to curl further into his side.

“I don’t know…” he teased. “I really liked that white sundress you wore in Vegas.” His smile grew as she scoffed and whacked him lightly on the chest. “But you deserved the big white wedding, and I’m really glad we were able to pull this together for you.”

“For us,” she corrected. “After everything we went through, we deserve a big celebration.”

“Mmm, agreed.” Jake nuzzled against her lips and kissed her softly, slowly. The crowd and the chatter and the music faded into the background as something inside of Jake settled. He felt lucky, so very lucky, to have her back in his life, and he would do whatever it took to keep her for the rest of his life. “I love you, Buttercup.”

“I love you too, Hangman.”

“Alright, you two, break it up.” Javy’s voice broke them apart and Jake rolled his eyes.

“Excellent timing, Coyote, as per usual.”

“Fuck off, man,” his Best Man chuckled. “You’re the one who put me in charge of making sure that y’all stayed on schedule. And it’s time for the bouquet toss. The DJ is gonna announce it at the end of this song, so I wanted to give you a heads up.”

“Shoot,” Buttercup sprang up and smoothed her dress. “Okay. Are you ready?” Javy nodded and she smiled so brightly at him that Jake melted. “Let me go get the other bouquet and I’ll get ready.” She bent down to kiss Jake softly before scurrying off to get the duplicate bouquet that she would be throwing.

“How you feeling, man?” Javy clapped Jake on the shoulder as they watched her go.

“Like the luckiest son of a bitch alive, Javy,” Jake returned the gesture as he stood. “What about you? You ready?”

“I’ve been ready, man,” Javy laughed. “I just hope it works out okay. Because if it doesn’t…” Javy flinched. “Shit man, that would suck for both of us.”

Jake laughed as his green eyes watched his wife trek to the middle of the dance floor. “It really would, man. But we’re not going to think like that. Thinking gets you killed, remember?”

Javy laughed and nodded. “It really does.”

“Alright, everyone, if I could get all the unmarried ladies onto the dance floor, please! It’s time for the bouquet toss!” the DJ called over the crowd, and the men dispersed while the ladies formed a loose ball behind Buttercup. All the ladies except Abby and Charlie, who ran over to the sweetheart table to hug their father.

“Hi honey.” He pressed a kiss to Abby’s perfectly styled hair. “Hey you punk.” He repeated the action on Charlie’s hair, still perfect but differently styled.

“Hi dad.”

“Hey old man.”

Jake rolled his eyes and hip checked Charlie. Some things would never change, and he loved that about his relationship with his daughters. Charlie would always be his little punk, always giving him a hard time and sassing him. Abby, on the other hand, was sweeter and more likely to curl up next to him to watch a movie. They were so different, and he considered himself to be blessed for getting to watch them grow up the last 22 months.

“You ready, Uncle Javy?”

“Born ready, girlies.”

Javy slowly walked to the edge of the dance floor as Buttercup pretended to throw the bouquet once…twice…before turning and handing it to Natasha, who looked like a deer in the headlights.

Buttercup hugged her friend tightly as she leaned in to whisper, “Just don’t break up with him this time, okay?”

Natasha’s face was the picture of confusion as Buttercup backed away to join her family at the sweetheart table…until she spotted Javy walking towards her purposefully.

“Don’t worry, Phoenix,” he murmured, a nervous smile playing at the corners of his lips. “I asked permission to do this at their wedding.”

“To do what?” she sniffled and hated herself for it. Natasha Trace did not cry.

“To do this…” Javy pulled out the green velvet box and knelt on one knee. “Natasha Trace, you are the biggest pain in my ass. You show me up in everything, you’re smarter than me, and, yeah, you were a better flyer than me. But all that makes me do is want to be better for you. I made a boneheaded mistake 13 years ago, and I have spent the past two years or so trying to make up for it. But I can’t wait any more. So, Phoenix, will you do me the honour of marrying me and putting up with my sorry ass for the rest of my life?”

Natasha couldn’t fight the tears as she nodded. “Yeah, you pain in the ass. I think I will.”

The crowd roared and cheered as Javy slipped the engagement ring onto Natasha’s finger. Charlie and Abby bolted away from their parents to congratulate their aunt and uncle while Rooster grabbed a few flutes of champagne from the bar and handed them to his friends.

Jake chuckled and picked up their own flutes, passing one to Buttercup before wrapping his free hand around her waist from behind and nuzzling into her neck.

“Did we make the right choice?” he asked.

“Oh yeah…” Buttercup sighed and leaned into him. “We put them through Hell. The least we could do is give him permission to propose at our second wedding.”

“Definitely makes it more memorable than the first,” he chuckled, watching Rooster, Bob, Mickey and Reuben hoist Javy up into the air. “No more shotgun weddings for us.”

Buttercup hummed, pressing her pink-painted lips to the rim of her glass. “That depends on your definition of shotgun wedding.”

Jake blinked. “What do you mean?”

Buttercup blinked back at him, joy and worry warring in her eyes. “Well, one definition is a last-minute wedding, one with minimal planning.”

Jake’s brow furrowed. “Yeah, that’s what I meant. I don’t care what kind of wedding they want; they’re not having an Elvis impersonator marry them in a Vegas wedding chapel. They deserve better. We deserved better too, but hey, at least you can drink this time.” When Buttercup didn’t speak, he felt worry begin to gnaw at his stomach. “Buttercup?”

With a sigh that rocked her body, she placed her glass down and turned towards him. “The second definition is when a couple gets married because the girl is pregnant. And…and I actually can’t drink this time.”

Jake blinked once…then twice. “But…you’re drinking right now?”

Buttercup shrugged shyly. “It’s sparkling grape juice. Unfermented. Non-alcoholic.”

Jake blinked again. “Does that mean…are you…are we…?”

Buttercup ran her hands over the lapels of his suit jacket. “I know we didn’t plan for this…but we haven’t exactly been careful either. And-and I know that you’re probably really worried that I’m going to relapse or something, but I’ve been talking to my therapist, and she recommended someone who specializes in PPD, so I booked myself an appointment and she’s going to help me make sure it doesn’t happen again. Or, if it does happen again, that I’ll have strategies in place to make sure it doesn’t get too bad and—”

Jake pressed a firm kiss to her lips, holding her tight and close as she melted against him. “Buttercup…” His voice was ragged from their kiss, but it held so much love and hope that she felt herself fall even further in love with him. “Are we having another baby?”

She sniffled and smiled at him. “Yeah. In about 8 months, we’ll have another baby Seresin running around the ranch.”

His smile was so bright that it was infectious, and Buttercup couldn’t stop herself from kissing him again.

“I love you so much, darlin’,” he murmured against her lips.

“I love you too.” Buttercup giggled as she wiped her lipstick from his mouth.

Turning towards the dance floor, she saw their family weaving their way towards them. Bob had his arm around his wife, looking down at his son like he held all the answers to every question. Rooster was being towed along by Charlie and Abby, who had him by the hands as they dragged him away from the bar and towards the sweetheart table. Javy and Natasha were strolled behind them, looking so in love that it was almost sickening.

“Buttercup? Can we not tell them yet?” Jake wrapped his arms around her from behind and cuddled her close. “I kind of want this to be our little secret for just a little longer.”

Buttercup smoothed her hands over his arms, folded so tenderly, so protectively over her abdomen, and could think of only one thing to say. “As you wish, honey. As you wish.”

A/N: And that concludes As You Wish, a strange little Parent Trap x Top Gun Maverick AU with a stupid amount of The Princess Bride references. I just wanted to thank you all from the bottom of my heart for sticking with me through this fic. It's been my passion project for almost a year, and you all got me through it. Thank you for every comment, DM, reblog, and like. It means so much to me that you liked this story as much as I loved writing it. Much love to all of you! (Now someone cue up Unwritten by Natasha Bedingfield so we can all jam out at Buttercup and Hangman's second wedding!)

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[tastesousweet]

⭒ the girl with the tattoo (xi) - pt 1 pt 2 p3 p4 p5 p6 p7 p8 p9 p10

matt sturniolo x fem!oc / reader

summary : a birthday, a bracelet, and brash decisions

warnings : angst(ish), fluffy, mentions of alcohol and weed, sort of proofread

mickey speaks : if you need a refresher on this series here's a little recap here; otherwise i hope you all enjoyyyyy!!!!

THIS IS PART ELEVEN, U SHOULD KNOW TO READ THE OTHERS FIRST BY NOW...

your rekindling with matt has become far from friendly very quickly.

after your fruitful trip to santa monica you were quickly back to regularly texting (and eventually touching) each other.

it's hard to forget the sight of matt, hair tussled after removing his hood and eyes distracted by your appeal as he breathlessly asked you to kiss him only a few weeks ago in the dark movie theater.

your eyes widened as you turned to face him and smirk through your mouthful of popcorn slowly, "what?" you whispered.

"want you to kiss me. please." his body language was so obviously frustrated by the distance that damn arm rest had put between you two. and frustrated by his crave for your taste ever since the pier.

your tongue began to poke into the back of your mouth to fight a kernel out of your hard molars, "matt- there's like people everywhere..." you'd lift yourself forward to glance around at the many heads facing the screen in front of you.

matt reached for your hand, bringing you back to him, "hey," he pressed a kiss to your knuckles, "they won't mind... s'not like i'm gonna start moanin' and shit."

your smile grew and before you sunk any deeper into the seat you were reaching to meet his lips for a swift chaste kiss. just as you pulled away matt was quick to take hold of your neck and whisper "the fuck was that? give me a proper kiss, c'mon sunny" against your pursed lips.

and you did; you kissed him hard because you too had been holding back a yearn for this ever since the pier. you kissed him to tell him everything he'd been making you feel. with these flirty ass friendship dates he'd been taking you on- only he'd still be quick to defend them as nothing serious or more than friends.

but how could he when he's the one interrupting your friendship time for a kiss with chemistry that could never be twisted into some platonic bullshit?

it seems you're a full, hot air balloon and he's just far too scared of the heights you'll take him. unsure of giving up his own control for the rewarding views you'd share with him.

your heads bobbed as your faces moved as one. your eyes remained pinched shut when he finally backed away and wiped the corner of your full lips softly. "mmm, thanks," he'd breathe and peek his tongue out over his lips.

"thanks," you'd mock and giggle as you push his face away from you, taking a sip of your cherry red slushy to coat his addictive taste with a sugary sweetness on your tongue.

since that moment shared in the dark, there were plenty of secret kisses and heated fuckings whenever you'd both get the time alone. there was no trivial conversation to establish what exactly you both would be reengaging as; no points made about exclusivity, no confession of adoration, no signs of steadiness.

but you think matt makes up for this with the way he's been treating you. his shell gone a little soft and his demeanor all the more trusting.

you both avoid the erin thing. except for when you innocently sneak her name into your conversations just to see how his face may change or his lips may twitch, hiding a small smirk- but your intentions are never questioned by matt. and you can't tell if that's his way of communicating that erin is no longer on his radar or him allowing you settle in your ignorance. both options would drive you crazy if you're honest.

it took some self reflecting and ranting voice memos recorded alone in your car for you to forgive erin- you knew she did nothing truly unforgivable to you, but her comment calling you a bitch was the perfect catalyst for your resentment.

you wanted to use something as petty as that to cut her off- knowing you and matt were on speaking terms again and if you'd gotten with him officially, in some convoluted and fucked up way, you would escape any violation of a girl-code principle.

except you both are too good of friends to fall out due to something so silly (and you were completely delusional to think you could handle the thought of someone being mad at you that intensely). erin had texted you almost a week after the exchange, claiming to have missed you and wanting to meet for lunch.

luckily she didn't bring matt up, you'd probably spill your water all over your shirt and blow your cover completely. instead you both apologized and held a long conversation of catch up, interrupted by bites of tacos and scoops of salsa.

౨ৎ

you should have known andrea was dead serious when she’d told you that she’d make you a frozen strawberry margarita (her at-home specialty) as soon as the clock struck twelve on your birthday.

you both had a ball, drinking two margaritas in the span of an hour and dancing together in the kitchen while “in da club” by 50 cent plays repeatedly.

and you’d never have expected to be interrupted with a text from matt that you read while slurping the last of your drink:

MATT - 1:37 AM

Hey come downstairs rq I’m at ur place

Y/N - 1:37 AM

mmkay…….

“drea ill be right back… left something in my car,” your voice is distracted and your eyes are still on your phone as you drift towards your front door and slide into the closest pair of sandals lying by.

“okay? do you want me to come too?! it’s dark out.” she furrows her eyebrows and speaks through chews of strawberry.

MATT - 1:38 AM

So many dots ……. lol

MATT - 1:38 AM

Can you come here quicker 😘

a smile grows when the texts form on your screen, “um no i’ll be fine, it’ll be quick.” you open the door without further conversation, rushing down the first few flights of stairs before walking slowly down the final flight to catch your breath (not wanting matt to think you were in too much of a rush to see him).

your eyes find his figure quickly with the soft warm street lighting hitting him as he perches against the wall of your complex. when he sees you his face exposes a toothy grin as he tucks his phone away.

the closer you get the more giddy you feel. “hi matt,” you greet reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck, connecting your bodies in a gentle hug. matt’s arms hold your waist and he breathes in your hair’s smell of sweet vanilla.

“mmm, hi sunny,” he pulls away first to cradle your face in his left palm, kissing your cheek then your lips. you move a hand to hold his wrist, smiling into the kiss and allowing matt to have a proper taste of the sugary margarita you were just sipping on.

you both pull away when the kiss gets too intense, matt breathes heavily as you wipe your mouth and smile up at him. “why’re you here?”

“well it’s your birthday… wanted to stop by and say hi and shit,” he licks over his teeth before returning a smile to you, he still keeps a hand on your waist running his fingers over your skin.

and his response makes your head spin. because, yes, of course matthew would think something like driving all the way to your house in the middle of the night just to “say hi” on your birthday is casual and would not fuck with a girl’s head. only he could so confidently trick himself (and you) into thinking like that.

he shrugs, looking at your mouth as he moves his thumb over your bottom lip for a second, “and i was already out, you know, your place was on my way home anyway.” there’s the cover up you were searching for. something, anything that he can pull out of his ass to remind you this is nothing romantic in the slightest.

you nod slightly as you adjust the small chain around his neck, his eyes still on you, “what were you possibly out doing this late?” you glance your eyes up to him then back to the necklace, “fucking around with whatever girl put you on to that little kissy-face emoji?”

matt laughs at your accusation, “damn, i’m a slut for using emojis now?!”

“you were a slut before the emojis,” you joke, “matt you’ve never used an emoji when texting me ever and it’s hard to believe you did that without some girl telling you it’s cute.”

matt reaches up to squish your cheeks together and gain your eye contact again, “hey you fuckin’ sunbum, you told me to start using emojis more. remember that? ‘cause they make everything funnier’” he uses air quotes when saying your words back to you.

he laughs when he sees the realization dawn on you, you push his hands away from your face. “okay, yeah that was me… and i stand by that!” you push him away to avoid laughing with him, “well, i guess i'll go back in my house now.” you dramatically sigh and back away.

“oh so you want me to give you your gift tomorrow?”

“gift? oh matt how you spoil me,” you gawk, adding a posh accent along the way.

“mhm, c’mere it’s in my car,” he begins to walk away and you follow. you lean against the car as he opens his door and looks for the present.

eventually matt’s head peeks out, “might be better if you just come in here too.”

“is your gift sex? we both know that’s all that would come from me getting in that car matt…”

matt's eyes get wide at your suggestion and he chuckles a bit as he shuts the door. he then moves to enclose you against his car and kiss you, giving you an out of breath confession throughout: “i like when you’re” kiss, “tipsy and just say” kiss, “like, the most direct shit.” kiss.

“i like it when you come to my house in the middle of the night just to kiss me.”

“mm yeah, i like it when we’re alone and you start talkin’ to me about the most random shit just because,” matt feels so comfortable with you at times like this. when it feels like you two are in your own bubble that cannot be popped.

“i bet you do,” you smile, enjoying his ability to make you giddy. “did you get your hair cut?” you draw your hands through his hair softly.

matt scrunched his face the slightest bit, “like, the tiniest trim. that’s crazy you noticed though.”

“it looks nice.”

“thank you.”

“can i have my gift now?”

matt’s immediately scrambling to grab the gift from his pocket. he presents it to you, placing the small box in your hand.

“oh god, what the fuck did you get me?” you pull the top off and see a bracelet lying on top of a layer of black foam.

“it’s an italian charm bracelet,” he watches you glance and feel over the silver bracelet, “fuckin’ sick, huh?”

“thank you,” you turn it over and your stomach falls sick at the sight of a frank ocean lyric engraved into the metal: i been thinking bout you.

matt continues to talk as you process, “yeah, and we can try to find more charms for some of the empty slots.”

you nod and ask him to put it on you. once it clasps he looks to you, “do you like it?”

“yeah, of course i do. thank you so much matt,” you try not to get emotional about it, instead distracting the both of you with a kiss that lasts for far too long matt pulls back with your hands still holding his face not too far from your own. “hi," you prompt him to say something rather than just look into your eyes.

he smiles, "hi. i gotta get home soon. it’s past my bed time and you know i live with two patrol dogs- probably barking in my phone right now.”

you laugh softly, “yeah, i know. i need to go to sleep too, andrea’s probably sending out missing persons reports. but i'll see you at my dinner tomorrow night, right?”

“yes ma’am.”

“perfect,” you hug him once more before you both unravel from each other. you watch as he gets into his car and when you walk away he starts signaling you to come back by flashing his bright headlights then waving you over.

he rolls his window down and you lean against it, “forgot to say ‘goodnight’ to the pretty birthday girl,” he whispers to you making you roll your eyes with a laugh.

“goodnight matt,” you reciprocate, trying not to turn into mush with how his eyes are admiring your entire face so unapologetically.

“and one more kiss for the road?”

you agree with a nod and allow him to peck you one last time, "m'kay bye matt, be good!"

౨ৎ

you shut your front door slowly and turn around to see andrea giggling, sipping another margarita as she plays with your car keys.

“you made another marg without me?” you call out.

“i had all the time in the world up here might as well,” she continues to sip and spin your keys.

“mmm, yeah ‘m sorry i took so long,” you begin to look through your fridge for any snacks when it clicks for you.

“that’s okay,” she picks up her straw and sucks some of her drink from the bottom of the straw, “i’m sure it was hard to find what ever you left without your keys.”

your change in demenor gives away everything.

“so were you just never gonna tell me you’re with matt?”

you turn around and she stops spinning the keys around her finger abruptly. “drea…”

she laughs, “no, no it’s fine. i mean, i definitely thought we told each other everything but- how long have you two been together?”

you move closer to her spot on the couch, “we’re not together.”

her eyes about fall out of her skull, “what the fuck do you mean you’re not together?! that makes it worse! if what i saw said anything it was you two are the most together ‘not together’ people i’ve ever met.”

“what all did you see?” you throw your head into a pillow on the couch.

“well when i realized you left your keys i went downstairs to bring you them but then i’m down there and immediately see you two kissing and holding onto each other like he’d just been at war for years-”

you visibly cringe and andrea shakes her head, “no i think it’s cute. i was just shocked, thinking i was imagining shit. i had to just turn around and come back up here. i hope you’re proud you know it’s hard for me to hold my tongue, i was ready to fucking scream.”

you hold the pillow your face was resting on, “i’m so proud of you.”

“… so i need some context please.” she offers you a sip of her drink.

you take a large sip from the straw before responding, "we just y'know... fuck around. he's very sure that there's nothing serious between us so. yeah."

"i'm sorry what? he told you that? and you, the most lovable bitch i know, are okay with that shit?!"

you reach for her drink and sip some more as she speaks and nodding your head along, "yes, unfortunately. but i'm, like, fine. i know i can't change him and if i can only have him like this then i'll take what i can get." andrea looks a little lost and baffled by your words. as if you'd just spoke an entirely different language.

"dre i know i sound desperate and stupid as fuck but i think that's exactly what i am at this point..."

she silently moves closer to you, wrapping her arms around you for a tight hug, "y/n you're so smart, just blinded right now by an idiot man of a crush. i can't believe you hid all of this- you haven't even spoke kindly about this man since like april. rem and i thought his mega ego turned you off his ass."

you giggle through another sip and begin to shake your head slowly, "nope... his evilness reeled me in and got me bad."

andrea laughs, "clearly you horny bitch! wow, you've held out on me so much- i need to know details."

you nod and begin to pull yourslef from the couch, heading over to the kitchen, "i'm gonna need us to start blending more drinks to get through all this shit."

౨ৎ

"hey, yeah, we're here with the party?" matt inquires to the host, lifting the small giftbag as if he needed to provide proof.

"great, they should be right down the hall and out in the patio section."

"thanks," matt dryly replies, walking towards chris and tugging his shoulder. "'s this way."

chris follows matt with a nod and his hands shoved into the pockets of his jean shorts. his face brightens immediately when approaching the full table, "hey guys what's up?!" as everyone welcomes them to he stops by andrea's seat, wrapping an arm around her lovingly and asking her how she's been. he seals their interaction with a forehead kiss before moving on to the chair next to her and greeting you with a 'happy birthday' and soft shoulder squeeze.

"what took you guys so long?" remi asks.

"i would give details but already we had a whole debacle during the car ride and matt's still a little sensitive about it," chris snickers while he takes a seat next to matt, giving him a lighthearted clap on the back.

matt begins to sarcastically laugh to himself, "alright chill out bud."

"hey, it's probably best if you both just shut the fuck up and eat some of this pasta i got. here." nick suggests, moving his plate of scraps between them.

౨ৎ

your dinner was as perfect as it could be.

you enjoyed your food quite a bit and having your friends all together is always something you cherish. you were happy to have gotten to speak with everyone in attendance even if your gaze continued to make its way back to matt, who was usually looking at you as well.

after experiencing the full restaurant staff's loud birthday chant (which only you, andrea, and remi seemed to enjoy and sing along with), you all made your way back to your shared apartment to eventually end the night.

the apartment is loud. music screaming out of speakers and voices speaking over each other. and amongst all of the ruckus andrea sends you on a mission to gather guests orders (she's taken it upon herself to play bartender for the night).

"nickk," you string out the syllables in his name as you practically lie on top of him when squeezing yourself onto his beanbag.

"y/nn" he returns the tone of voice.

"what do you wanna drink?" you click your purple glitter pen with enthusiasm and flip onto a random page in an abandoned notebook you'd just found in your closet.

"hhmmm," he rubs over his chin and pinches his eyes, "let me get your specialty- as long as its sweet. you know i hate hate hate that bitter shit!"

"yes diva, i will get you something so sweet and soooo special, don't you even worry." you write down 'nicky - sweet special'

you approach everyone, making your list of drinks along the way, before eventually nearing matt. he's slouched on the couch, phone in hand while taking long drags from asha's pen.

you place each of your hands on his knees and lean close to ask him what he'd like to drink. he smiles at first and drops his phone on his stomach as he sits up to be at level with you. "i want whatever you've had tonight. how the fuck are you tipsy already?"

you laugh, "it's my birthday, i ask the questions."

"okay but pregaming dinner is crazy," his face crinkles a bit as he laughs.

you roll your lips into your mouth realizing just how close you are to his face and feeling the smallest inkling to crawl onto matt's lap and kiss him right here.

he feels it too. especially with you leaning over him and your tits threatening to spill out of that tight dress. he just lets out a breath and reaches for your notebook and pen next to him, writing his order down for you.

just as he goes to speak again there's a knock against your door.

"y/n can you get that! i hope it's not one of our neighbors..." andrea exclaims while turning down the music.

matt's shocked by how quickly your warm hands leave his legs and you're off to answer the front door. you peer through the peep-hole and laugh, "oh my god, it's lucas!" you unlock and open the door.

"happy fucking birthday!" he pulls you in for a side hug and squeezes the fullest part of your hip as you smile against his chest that smells faintly of weed and warm amber. "what's up girl, how was dinner?" he feathers a small kiss to the top of your head and grins as you begin to overly explain every part of your birthday.

matt thinks lucas showing up to your after party is weird and bizarre as fuck. he never realized you were close with him, because when and why do you have time to talk to some pothead goof like him? and why's he holding onto you so much? and why are you so fucking happy about it?

matt bites at his bottom lip harshly, as he stares. he can only let this go on for so long before he's making his way across the room to redirect you. he and lucas make eye contact first, lucas quips his head, "heyy matt!"

"hey, man." man shortly replies with a fake smile, then looks to you, "you gonna get those drinks for your guests?" he raises the notebook.

your eyes widen, "oh shit- i totally forgot." you pull yourself from lucas to grab the notebook, thanking matt before suggesting lucas follow you so that he can get a drink and put the bottle of tequila he brought in the freezer.

matt internally twitches his eyes, but externally tightens his lips and walks away from the abandoned spot.

౨ৎ

with everyone two shots and two drinks drunker, the karaoke machine is put to use; you and andrea are now sexy dancing in the living room as asha sings a rendition "london bridge" by fergie.

nick of course sings adlibs and absolutely hollers whenever one of you drop yourselves low enough. its a miracle you haven't received a noise complaint yet.

as for matt, he's decided to play into erin's interest due to his lack of entertainment from you. he's looking deeply in her eyes, playing with her fingers, glancing down at her lips. you see it all; only you're the type to bitterly down a shot while watching from afar or whisper a sly comment into andrea's ear in the middle of dancing (to which andrea motions her finger into her mouth as if to gag at matt's actions).

you've yet to confront him, instead letting him waste his time with her.

౨ৎ

two hours after everyone agreed to go to bed, you're woken up by a few taps on your shoulder and whispers of your name.

"please- 'm tired..." you whine into your pillow.

you feel a kiss to your shoulder that draws you to at least peek your eye open. and of course matt is there- shaggy hair and shirt left somewhere in your living room.

the soft glow of your yellowed night light hits him enough for you to recognize every part of him, "matt." is all you huff before turning over.

"yeah? hey, can i be in here with you? for a sec" his voice stays at a whisper as he softly begins to move you over, "come on sunny, why y'bein' stubborn?"

you sigh and lift your head up, keeping your eyes shut as you allow your words to come out louder than you mean, "why were you flirtin' with her?!"

"shhhh! you're loud as fuck. stop it." matt's made his way under your comforter and his audacity is pissing your drunk brain off.

you pettily kick at his side and push his chest until he lifts himself up, "ow! what the fuck y/n?"

"matt why are you in here? go to sleep."

"you want me to go?"

"yeah, if you want to be holding up on erin you can go lay with her on that couch, right?"

"that's not what happened but whatever." matt shakes his head slowly and wipes a hand over his face.

"no. it's not 'whatever' matt! you were selfish. it's my fucking birthday i expected at least a little more respect from you- but clearly i'm nothing but a bird bitch to you or something."

"you know that's not how i think of you."

"do i?"

he sits closer to you, "no matter what i'm your friend at the end of the day."

if only he knew that's exactly what you'd hate to hear from him right now, "okay."

"okay."

you hold your head for a few moments before lying down and tugging the comforter over your body once more, "i don't feel like talking about this shit right now, matt. can you just come here and kiss me please?"

he nods silently, moving as close as possible so you both can kiss each other to sleep.

lil insta blurb for this chapter! (you dont need to see this for plot info)

taglist -★

@deadxrx @breeloveschris @saintsturn @honestlybab @starrysturniolo @st7rnioioss @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @sturnioloa @tcvazq @novasturniolo03 @sturnsintrouble @sturnrc @wovenribbons @watercolorskyy @imsosillygoofylol @sturnrc @wh0resstuff @peachmels @udonknowmeh12 @solaceinwritings @h3arts4harry @imaslutforwhitemen @lovingregulusblack @sturnsintrouble @rxeae

[em-harlsnow]

there comes a day when mickey will make fun of ian in front of his whole family for the whole mexico thing (they will both ignore how it ended)

they’ll be taking the piss out of each other on the couch, while everyone else just sort of minds their own business.

it will end up something like

“please you still fucked me when i had long hair and hadn’t showered in a week” mickey rolls his eyes at his husband.

“you never had long hair” lip says, thinking he’s talking about when they were young.

“when he broke out of prison he did.” ian elaborates.

“yeah, and how long did it take you to cave?” mickey prods, and lip laughs.

“seriously, ian, ive always wondered about that. i mean, you were dating someone else so how long did it take before you went with mickey?” debbie asks, putting her phone down.

“um- i mean- it wasn’t instantly-“ ian tries to defend himself.

“wasn’t instantly my ass, man. you said ‘i have a boyfriend’ and i said ‘okay, what are u doing here then’ and that’s all she fucking wrote because you were all over me.”

“really ian? that quick?” lip mocks

“i mean- not- it wasn’t like that! it was just like- you were doing that stupid lip thing and we’d already kissed so- and i hadn’t seen you in ages! and you were like bouncing ur eyebrows and-“ ian keeps gesturing at mickey like it’s just all his fault.

“all i hear is i was too irresistible.”

ian scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“jesus ian, you’d already kissed? so what, it was even less time?” debbie pokes lightly and lip laughs.

“he kissed me!” ian argues, making mickey raise his eyebrows.

“yeah, you seemed real upset about it too. you definitely weren’t an active participant” mickey rolls his eyes, tone dripping with sarcasm.

“urgh, shut up, mick! it took- it took convincing! he was texting me beforehand!”

“i texted u ‘r u comin’ because i was freezing my ass off. not exactly a love sonnet, man.”

lip laughs. “you’re so easy ian. jesus christ.”

“i am not easy, lip. you’re the slut here, not me.”

“c’mon man, you are kind of easy for me.” mickey teases jabbing him in the ribs slightly.

“oh fuck you mickey as if you’re any better.”

mickey holds his hands up. “never said i was.” he gives ian a toothy grin, which he scowls at. “but really? my hair was down to here. surely it should have taken you longer to fold.”

ian rolls his eyes again, and mickey chuckles.

later, when they’re alone, ian admits, “i liked the long hair though. i mean you looked sort of homeless… but i liked it.”

mickey smiles at him. “ur such a sap. i love you”

“i love you too.”

“but you folded SO QUICK, gallagher. you barely even tried to avoid fucking me!”

ian rolls his eyes and punches him in the shoulder for ruining the moment.

[flamingbluepanda]

"Hey."

Ian groaned, eyes closed. He was so, so comfortable. Maybe if he just ignored him...

Why had Ian been so dead set on marrying this bastard again?

"Hey, Ian."

Poke.

Motherfucker.

"Hey. Ian. Red. Firecrotch. Sugartits."

Poke poke poke poke-

"What?" Ian groaned, raising one heavy arm to swat at him. He had been dead asleep when Mickey had shaken him awake.

"C'mon," mickey said, "You have to see this."

Ian sighed, forcing his eyes open. He would've ignored him, really, but Mickey sounded so earnest, and they were three days into their ridiculously long awaited honeymoon to Mexico, so Ian was feeling particularly sappy.

When they'd gotten off parole, finally, three long years after leaving prison, Mickey had been the one to suggest they visit the little village he'd settled in. It was close enough to a big city for mickey to work, back when he lived here, but out of the way enough to hide from the feds and any cartel members that were looking for him. The little old lady who had rented mickey his apartment here was still kicking, by some miracle, and had spent the last three days gleefully whacking Mickey with a shoe every time he was in reach, yelling at him in Spanish.

("She actually really likes him," her son, Luca, who was apparently mickeys singular friend from his time here, had told Ian. "They only ever got along by yelling at eachother, but Mami thinks he's hilarious and was really worried when he disappeared off the face of the earth.")

Still, the last few days had been paradise -- the beach, meeting the members of the community who surprisingly thought mickey was amazing, the food -- and Ian was feeling sappy.

He heaved himself out of bed, sleepily letting Mickey lead him out of the small motel room and down to the beach.

"Okay," mickey whispered, "look up."

Ian did - and his breath caught in his throat.

There were so many stars.

"Were far enough from the city that the light pollution isn't so bad," Mickey explained, "I cried like a baby the first time I saw it."

Yeah, Ian thought he might cry too.

They spread out a blanket and sit there for a long while, just staring. It was gorgeous -- Ian almost thought he could see the milky way.

"It's beautiful," Ian said, "worth getting out of bed for."

"It always is," Mickey said, so tenderly that Ian didn't need to look to know his husband was looking at him, not the sky.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

M.I.A.

Summary: When Colter Shaw calls the reader for help on a job, she thinks nothing of helping out. Only he never shows up and Colter may have just become the latest disappearance in this small town. It’s up to her and Russell to work together to find him before his case goes cold like all the others before…

He's My Man Masterlist

Pairing: Russell Shaw x reader

Word Count: 6,500ish

Warnings: language, kidnapping, violence, torture, mentions of death

A/N: Welcome back to more Russell Shaw! This story is considered a timestamp to He's My Man and it's highly recommended that story be read prior to this one. With Tracker coming up again soon I wanted to dive back into this world with these characters and thought this would be a fun way to check in with the gang. Please enjoy!...

________

“Thanks,” you said to the waitress who refilled your coffee. The diner was quiet, the mid-afternoon lull between the lunch and dinner crowd. You poked at the slice of chocolate pie in front of you and scrolled through your phone, an anxious feeling growing in your gut.

Colter had called last night, asking if you’d be willing to come out and act as his date at a gala event where he was investigating a young woman’s disappearance. Admittedly, you were a bit nervous to accept. You’d only been doing reward work for six months and you’d had success so far with tracking down a few show dogs, a horse, a signed Mickey Mantle baseball card and a stolen car. But you hadn’t dipped your toe into the truly hard stuff yet. People.

After Colter got you to put the phone on speaker, he and Russell had wore you down and convinced you this would be a good first run. It was Colter’s case, you were simply there to help and offer input.

Flirting with a rich playboy Colter suspected of kidnapping the missing woman while he searched the house was also up there on his request list.

It was only a three hour drive to the small town from home and Russell had an important meeting with a brewery investor at lunch so you decided to help him do some last minute prep in the morning before agreeing to catch up with Colter for lunch at a diner. Yet, it was a few minutes past three and you’d heard nothing from him since around midnight the night before.

“Fuck it,” you said, slapping down a ten dollar bill and dialing.

“Hello, hello, qark,” answered Russell, his voice cheery and bright.

“Your lunch went well I’m assuming?” He hummed. “Don’t leave me hanging. What’d you settle on?”

“He gets 5% profit sharing after the first year for five years. By then he said we’d be well established and probably wouldn’t need him anymore. He was a good guy, invited us to get dinner with him and his wife sometime.”

“That’s great, honey,” you said, turning when the bell over the door rang, pouting to find it was a pair of older men that took a seat at a booth. “You haven’t heard from Colter at all, have you?”

“No…he never showed for lunch?” You sighed. “He could have been arrested.”

“Russell,” you chided.

“He gets arrested and Reenie bails him out all the time,” he said. “I just texted her. I bet he’s sitting in the station right now because he pissed off some local power hungry…shit.”

“Shit what?” you asked, taking a big, stress induced bite of pie. 

“Reenie said she hasn’t heard from him.” Russell groaned in the background. You closed your eyes. Today was supposed to be a good day for him. The last thing you wanted was him worrying about his little brother.

“I bet he ate some bad food, puked his guts up in the airstreamer and is sleeping it off. He said he was staying at the Sunny Days Park. I’ll go meet up with him there-”

“I’m coming out there,” said Russell. You rolled your eyes. “If he’s so sick he can’t pick up a phone then he needs help and that girl he’s looking for needs help too.”

“Fine,” you said, your heart rate spiking when you stood. “He’s probably just being his usual anti-social self, right?”

“Yeah. He’s totally known for being flaky on jobs,” deadpanned Russell. “Just…I’m not going to ask you to wait at the diner for me but be careful. Keep your gun on you and you call me when you get to his trailer. I have a bad feeling.”

“Me too,” you whispered. “I’ll call you in ten, Russ.”

You’d frowned when you found Colter’s truck parked in front of the airstream fifteen minutes later. Your pout remained when you cleared the the area and the inside of the trailer, carefully tucking your gun away into the holster on the back of your jeans. “He’s not here, Russell.”

“Anything look off?” he asked through the headphones in your ears. The space at first glance didn’t look out of the ordinary. Computer and maps on the kitchenette table. Coffee mug upside down on the drying rack next to the sink. You stopped short and squatted down, cocking your head.

“There are two pairs of shoes tucked under the table. Boots and trail running shoes.”

“Okay…” You stood up and sighed. 

“Russell, I lived in this trailer for a few days and Colter is a minimalist. There are two pairs of shoes here and he only owns two pairs of shoes. So he’s walking around barefoot? That’s-”

“Not good,” sighed Russell. “Do you see any sign of struggle? Blood? Anything weird? Or missing?”

“Not that I can tell. I didn’t exactly do an inventory of his closet when…” Your eyes zeroed in on a tiny black speck in the corner. “He has a security camera.”

“Call Bobby, see if he can get the footage from a cloud server or something. I’ll call back in a few once I’m on the road.”

“Drive safe, hun.” 

“You be safe. Anything feels fishy, get to a public place and stay there until I get in.”

“I know. Love you.”

“Love you too.” Two minutes later you were on Colter’s computer, Bobby sending you a link to the 24 hour cloud account where Colter’s subscription was saved to once a day.

There were two feeds, one right over the door to the air streamer and the other a wide angled shot staring down the entire length of the trailer. You backed it up to midnight, watching Colter sitting right where you currently were, texting and finishing off his beer. He stretched and stood, putting the empty under the sink.

He hit off a light and you sped it up, Colter padding out once to get a glass of water during the night. You smiled when he got up around six, an unusually cuddly version of Colter appearing on screen. He had a blanket wrapped around his bare shoulders as he shuffled over to his coffee machine, getting a cup brewing.

It reminded you of Russell in the morning. He too had a habit of walking around with a blanket first thing. You wondered if that was a Shaw thing or a habit Colter picked up from his big brother when they were kids.

You watched Colter disappear into the bedroom, exiting in a black tight pullover along with fitted pants for running. He sat at the booth and tugged on his sneakers before knocking back his coffee. He glanced at his phone quickly and tucked it into his pocket before he was gone, the interior still. The video was motionless for another hour when Colter came back inside, a thin layer of sweat on his face. Sneakers were removed and socks tossed into the bedroom, Colter taking deep gulps from a bottle of water. He tucked it back in the fridge and headed for the bedroom when suddenly the airstream door opened. 

Three men in black masks bounded inside, one holding a bulky looking gun. Colter didn’t get more than a step in before cords shot out and you realized he’d been tased. Your heart caught in your throat as he fell to the floor hard, body rigid. His face was etched in pain as he slowly moved his arm but the men were on him fast. Punch to the face, hands zip tied behind his back, tape over his mouth. Colter was out cold when they threw a hood over his head and he was lifted off the ground by a man on either side of him. They quickly left, no one appearing until you found yourself on tape hours later.

“Colter,” you breathed out, looking out the windows, as if he’d suddenly appear safe and sound there. Shakily you dialed Russell, your head in your hands. 

“Hey. You hear from Bobby at all?” You tried to keep your breathing calm, remember the stress management techniques you’d learned in med school. 

You winced, Russell’s voice loud on the other end. “Y/N, answer me.”

“I watched the tape. Russ, s-someone took him. They took Colter right out of the airstream this morning and-”

“Where are you?” You lifted your head, Russell growling. “Where?”

“In the air-”

“Leave right now, right fucking now,” he said. You grabbed the phone, Colter’s computer and a stack of papers nearby before rushing out of there. “Are you out?”

“Yes, I’m in my car,” you said with a pant, tossing everything in your passenger seat and taking off out of the campground.

“Go back to that diner and I’ll meet you there in two hours. If anyone tries anything-”

“I know,” you sighed. “Don’t speed to get here. The last thing we need is you in an accident.”

“Diner. Two hours. Be there.”

Two Hours Later

You munched on a basket of once warm fries as you heard the bell over the door jingle. You eased slightly when Russell headed your direction, wrapping you up in a big hug. “You okay?”

“I’m fine, Russ, I swear.” You sat back in your corner booth, Russell sliding in the opposite side, getting a cup of coffee and burger for himself before you ordered dinner. “How are you holding up?”

Russell didn’t say anything, just had that look on his face he did right before he killed Owen. Honestly, you shared that sentiment. Colter had your back when you were strangers and now when you were family? Yeah, someone was going to pay and dearly.

“Bobby’s been running the video through his programs but couldn’t ID any of the guys. They ditched Colter’s phone outside the airstreamer so no leads there,” you said, passing the computer over to Russell. He watched the video, his eyes twitching momentarily before he took a long, deep breath.

“Can we trace these guys phones?” You shook your head. 

“Bobby tried. No cell activity in the nearby area before or after they…” You swallowed the lump in your throat, Russell reaching across the table and taking your hand in his. “The team’s been trying to find who took Colter while I’ve been looking into his research on the case. I figure he found out who took the woman or got real close without realizing it and that person took him.”

“Smart girl.” Russell cracked a smile, a heavy weight quickly settling back over the table. “But I have a problem with it.”

You nodded, keeping your lips sealed as his food was delivered and you got a plate of eggs and hashbrowns set down before you. “Me too. It doesn’t make sense to take him unless they wanted to know something he knows and they figured he wouldn’t crack immediately.”

“Yup. Aren’t you supposed to go to a party with him tonight?” You stopped with a forkful halfway to your mouth. Russell cocked his head. “He got an invite to that party. For two people. They must think he has a partner and that the partner knows everything Colter does.”

You set your fork down, Russell forcing a smile. “They’re looking for me. Those people are probably hurting him-”

“Hey,” said Russell, voice quiet. Gentle. “They took him because he found out something these people don’t want him to know and he didn’t realize it, not because of you. Let’s figure out what that is and then we’ll come up with a game plan.”

“Okay. Let’s figure this out.”

Forty minutes later, two clean plates and Russell making more than one odd face at the computer screen did it hit you. You slid Colter’s notebook with the name of the party over, Russell’s eyebrow quirking. “What?”

“These people don’t know who I am, otherwise I’d be gone. Colter wanted me to go to this party with him, right? Well, let’s go to the party.” Russell leaned back, closing his eyes. “Isn’t the most likely scenario that the person that took this girl also took Colter? And they clearly are powerful enough to have a few guys working for them. Let’s go to the party full of rich people and see what we can sus out.”

“Y/N.” Russell sighed, rubbing his temple with his palm. “It’s way too dangerous. Just because someone hasn’t come after you doesn’t mean they won’t. We need to figure out what Colter stumbled on-”

“This party,” you said, holding up the notebook, slapping it down. Russell clenched his jaw, relaxing after a beat. “The only research Colter did was on this girl and then there’s the party invite. He wanted to go there for a reason.”

“Alright, alright,” he said, picking it up, flipping through the pages. “How’d he get the invitation in the first place?”

“It’s a charity fundraiser. Anyone in town can go as far as I can tell,” you said. “All I know is he wanted me to be a distraction.”

“Distraction…” Russell typed on Colter’s computer, biting his bottom lip. “Party’s at some older rich dude’s house. Francis Duvel. Sounds like a real upstanding community member.”

“That’s not surprising the wealthy guy is hosting a charity event.” Russell’s eye twitched before he spun around the screen. Your eyes flickered down, reading a headline.

Duvel Industries Once Again Cleared of Safety Allegations; Whistleblower Drops Suit as CEO Vows Quality & Integrity Valued Over Profits

“I couldn’t figure it out earlier but there’s been a pattern of people going missing every so often in this town. Men. Women. Old. Young. Never kids or teens. Always adults. Your missing girl, Alexis Pearson works at-”

“Duvel Industries,” you said, flipping through a paper. “Executive assistant. You think-”

“Poor girl probably found out they were cutting corners somewhere and she said something to the wrong person.” He handed you back the computer and sure enough, all of the people that had “left” town or simply gone missing had at one point or another worked for Duvel Industries.

“How did no one figure this out before? It’s obvious what’s going on,” you said, Russell looking around. “Wait. You think…”

“Article said the local cops found no issues and never have. This charity auction is for the community including-”

“Fuck,” you muttered. “He’s got the sheriff in his pocket, likely a few more cops. No wonder Colter couldn’t just turn over what he found. He couldn’t trust them.”

“He should have called me,” said Russell, closing the computer. He shook his head, staring out at the cloudy evening sky. “I have a friend in the bureau. I could have…”

“So let’s call your friend, get the FBI up here to take a look at Duvel and in the meantime, try to find Colter and Alexis.” For the first time he looked worried and it made your heart clench. “What is it?”

“Alexis is probably already dead and when FBI agents show up at Duvel’s front door, he’s going to kill Colt and the girl if they aren’t already. Y/N, we have to find him tonight.” 

“Okay,” you said, getting up and pulling him into your side of the booth, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Screw the party. That was Colter’s plan. Ours needs to be more direct.”

“What’d you have in mind?”

“Duvel isn’t stupid enough to keep him or Alexis at a place where he’s having the whole town come to, right? So where would you hide them as a CEO?” He smiled, kissing your cheek before pulling out his phone. 

“Bobby, it’s Russell. I need the address of every property owned by Duvel Industries asap.”

One Hour Later

“How do you know it’s this one?” you asked Russell as you got out of his car. He went to the trunk, resting his head against the open thing. “What’s wrong?”

“I know because this place is isolated, it’s been under construction for years with no progress but the tire tracks we saw were fresh. It’s Duvel’s dumping ground.” He straightened up, hands on his hips. “Qark.”

He didn’t have to say it. He wanted you to stay here, out of danger. He’d wanted you away from this kind of life and said it more than once.

Russell reached inside the trunk and opened a black duffel, holding out a black vest to you. It was much smaller than the one he and Colter fit in though. You took the vest, followed by Russell handing you a thigh holster. “I thought you were going to tell me to stay in the car.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I want you to stay here,” he said, bending down to buckle the straps against your thigh, pulling it taut. He looked up with a half-smile before taking your gun from the back holster and putting it inside, tossing the other one in the trunk. 

“What are…” He zipped up your jacket all the way and pulled the vest on over your shoulders, fixing your hood before tightening the sides so the vest hung tight to your body. “Russell.”

He shrugged, green eyes nervous but gentle. “You have let me teach you self-defense, how to reload and shoot, tactics and stealth so you’d be safe doing reward work. You’ve done it all without complaint. I want you to stay at the car but I know my queen of darkness. You can do this. You told me once before you wanted me to show you how to do things, not do them for you. So let’s go do this together.”

You smiled, running your hand over the vest. “How long have you had this?”

“I bought it the first reward job you took. I figured someday you’d need it.” He put on his own gear and locked the car, inhaling deeply. “If you want to change your mind-”

“That building is massive. You can’t go in alone.” He nodded, closing his eyes. “Am I liability to you? Serious question. If I go in there with you, does it make things harder if Colter is in there?”

Russell peeled open his eyes, smirking as he planted both hands on your face and kissed you hard. 

“I always worry, qark. Whether you’re in there or out there.” He touched his forehead to yours, hot breath fanning over you. “You do not have to go in. Absolutely you do not have to. But if my girl wants to do this with me, then I’m glad I’ve got her for a partner.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, Russell lifting you up into a hug. 

“But if shit goes down, you run.” You shrugged, Russell groaning. “Alright, alright, Rambo. Follow my lead and stick close. Bobby’s going to contact my friend in two hours if he doesn't hear from us so let’s get a move on.”

“Age before beauty,” you said. He narrowed his eyes. 

“Yeah, keep it up youngin’ and next time you’re in that outfit I’ll teach you a lesson.” You glanced down to his groin, Russell growling. “Y/N.”

“Sorry.” He nodded, checking his gun before letting in hang by his side.

“Stay low and quiet. Clear your corners and don’t hesitate to use your weapon. You sure you want to go in?”

“Let’s do this.” Russell checked your gear one more time before you headed into the forest, jogging through it for a moment. You stopped at the edge when Russell held up a hand. He reached into his back pocket, revealing a small scope. You knelt by his side, looking around as he mumbled to himself.

“Good news and bad news. Good news is there’s only one vehicle and it’s a car which means most likely there’s four guys or less. Could be more but odds aren’t in favor. No cameras from what I can tell. Bad news is two outside guards. It’s going to be hard to get in.” You pursed your lips. “What are you thinking?”

“If we each get one-” 

“Y/N,” Russell scolded. You frowned, his face softening. “Those guys are huge. Odds are they grab you before you get the guy out cold.”

“Russell. I fought off Owen when I was roofied when I was younger. You have taught me so many moves. I wouldn’t risk Colter if I didn’t know that I can take out a guy that size. Trust me. Please.” He lowered his head, shoulders sagging.

“If he’s not going down, shoot him.” You agreed and then the two of you were jogging across the dark grass, coming to a stop against the concrete wall of the building. Russell pointed you forward and you went ahead of him, gun in front of you, squeezing the cold metal tight.

The guard rounded the corner quickly though, startled by the sight of you. You ducked fast, Russell’s fist flying out where your head had been. It connected hard with the guard’s jaw and he slumped against the wall, crumpling down in a heap. You stood up, Russell tapping your shoulder before stepping in front of you. After a moment the guard was restrained, tape over his mouth. Russell peaked around the corner before holding up a hand for you to stay back before he disappeared. 

Ten seconds later he returned, body slightly less tense. He nodded and you jogged over to him, keeping behind him as you went through the door and past the other out cold guard with hands and feet secured.

The building was large, some warehouse space, offices on either side. Russell sighed silently before going left. You walked backwards behind him for a few minutes as he cleared room after room after room with nothing to show.

“It’s taking too long,” he whispered. “I can’t check every room fast enough if the guards check in on a schedule.”

“I can finish the hall. Do the other side. You’re faster without me,” you murmured. Russell stared at you for five seconds then planted a kiss on your forehead.

“Be safe. I’ll be right back.” Silently, he went the way you’d came from and disappeared around the corner. You turned your attention back on the six or so offices to go with a thick swallow. Without Russell by your side, your nerves came front and center. But you couldn’t stand there forever. There was probably someone else inside and Colter wouldn’t hesitate if you were in his shoes.

You steadied yourself and cleared a dark, empty office, then another. The second to last door pushed open easily, bright light hitting you in the face. 

There was barely enough time to register Colter in a chair, someone behind him with a knife and then the man’s hand was moving fast towards his throat.

The trigger pulled hard as you squeezed it once, twice, three times. You couldn’t hear over the ringing in your ears as you did wide sweeps of the room. No one else was in there and after finding the man slumped on the ground was dead, you rushed to Colter who’s head hung low.

“Colter. Colter,” you urged. He was shaking as you tilted his chin up, a thin line of red on his throat but not deep. You closed your eyes. Fuck, a second later and Colter would have already bled out by now. 

But something wasn’t right. His clothes were wet, skin ice cold. Your eyes darted upwards when you felt cold air conditioning kick on overhead. It was only then that you noticed the dead man was wearing a winter jacket for some reason.

You checked Colter over after cutting him free, a few bruises on the face, bruised ribs from his labored breathing and you winced when you patted his shin and felt how swollen it was. You cut up his pants leg and saw the deep bruising, very highly a broken bone in there.

Another gun shot rang out nearby and you spun around with your gun, aiming at the door. Russell appeared a few moments later, sighing in relief. But his face fell when he saw Colter violently shaking in the chair, arms wrapped tight around himself.

“What’s-”

“He’s hypothermic,” you said, cutting up his pants, Colter shaking his head. “We need to get him out of these wet clothes and warmed up now.”

“Y/N-”

“Russell, he’s not stable.” You finished cutting off his pants and had his pullover halfway off. “Call your FBI friend and tell him we need a med evac to a level 1 trauma center. In the meantime, go kill the A/C and get my med kit from the car.”

“Got it,” he said, turning to leave. “I found Alexis.”

You looked over your shoulder at him, Russell smiling. “She’s roughed up but she convinced these guys-”

“I’m sorry but does she need medical attention, yes or no?” He shook his head. “Then go do as I ask.”

Russell took off down the hall, Colter’s wet clothes dropping to the ground. You got behind him and put your arms under him and around his chest, hoisting him up.

He screamed at the sudden pain in his side and leg but you could deal with that later. Right now, he was too fucking cold. You walked backwards out of the room, Colter whining the whole time which frankly scared the fuck out of you.

Colter was stoic. Tough as nails like Russell. Calm in moments of terror.

Scared, hurt, out of control Colter made you heart feel like it was being stabbed.

“S’okay, Colt. I got you. You’ll feel better real soon,” you said, dragged him down the hall and into an office you’d found a couch in earlier. You jerked when you noticed a shadow at the doorway.

Alexis was hiding halfway behind the doorframe, wide eyed at you. “I-I can help.”

“You know what a space heater is?” She nodded quickly. “Find them and bring them back here. Quickly. I saw a few in this hallway.”

She ducked away as you lowered Colter to the ground and plugged in the space heater you’d saw in there, turning it to the max. 

You found a wooden chair and kicked at it with your boot until it broke apart. Taking two long pieces, you placed them on either side of Colter’s leg and removed your vest, jacket and shirt. 

“And you said my red jacket was ugly,” you teased, laying it over his shivering form. “Too visible if I recall.”

His fingers squeezed the material so tight it started to tear, your heart breaking for him. You leaned down close, wiping the wetness out of his hair with your shirt. With a sigh you kissed his forehead, Colter mumbling something you couldn’t make out.

“I know you know you’re in shock. Everything is fine. All I want you to think about right now is a story I’m going to tell you. Okay? Just lay back and listen.” You soaked up more water with your shirt and leaned back, removing your tank top, leaving you in just a black bra. “You know Russell bought me this bra back when we went on that trip to Paris last month. I know we told you about it and you did a lot of humming like you couldn’t care less, remember?”

You shredded the tank top with your hands into strips, laying them over and under his broken leg. “I’m going to splint your leg now.”

“So there was I,” you said, pulling tight, Colter nearly doubling over as you did the few other spots quickly. “In Paris with your brother of all people and he’s bought me all these nice pajamas and lounge sets and other things you don’t need to know about when he says, let’s take a few days trip to Africa. Let’s go to the desert. Now, I don’t know about you but if you’ve never been to the desert, it’s hot as fuck.”

You made sure his leg was straight before fixing your coat on him, Colter shivering into your hand. Alexis returned with three space heaters and you quickly go them on and around him.

“When you’re in the desert, you can feel the sun prickle your skin. You know that feeling? The heat from the rays literally warming you, getting inside. It makes you so hot. It reflects off the sand, like hot sand at a beach, right back at you. It’s like you’re on a baking sheet, hot out of the oven, baked on all sides.”

Colter was still shivering but he was starting to relax, less violent shakes coming out now. 

“You ever have a sunburn like that? I bet you did. Your nose and cheeks got all red, your skin so hot. I know you Shaw boys were always outside. Russell gets these freckles when he’s out in the sun. Do you get them too? A nice hot summer day, out on the water with a warm breeze.”

Russell entered the room, kneeling beside you. “Chopper will be here in thirty.”

“Okay,” you said, Colter’s head turning to the side. “Rest up for me big guy.”

You got up and pulled Russell to the back corner, nodding at Alexis sitting on the couch. “What?”

“Russell, you should take her to the nearest hospital.” He frowned, biting his tongue though as you held up your hands. “She’s not as bad as your brother but she’s dehydrated and cold.”

“No, I need to stay here in case Duvel’s guys show up. You take her-”

“I’m sorry, are you a doctor? Do you know what to do if Colter has a heart attack? A seizure? Those are very real possibilities right now, Russell. I need to warm him up and calm him down the right way and I can’t worry about her right now. I need you to take care of her. Please.”

He closed his eyes. “Fine but I’m tossing those two guys in the trunk of their car. And put your vest back on. And keep an eye on the door-“

“Shaw.” He opened his eyes, finding you glaring at him. 

“Please help him the best you can,” he whispered. You hugged him, Russell squeezing you tight before he was moving and out the door with Alexis under his arm. Only the hum of the space heaters and Colter’s incoherent mumblings could be heard as you sat down beside him. 

“Here you go,” you said, resting the vest over his injured leg to try and give him some warmth. You held your gun in your hand as the other rested on his forehead. Fuck, he was still too cold. Slowly, he peeled open his eyes, looking so young for the briefest of moments. “I have one last idea. But it’ll hurt.”

He nodded very slowly before closing his eyes tight. “I’ll be right back.”

You jogged out to the warehouse and hit the switch to open the bay door, quickly breaking into the luxury car out front and pulling it in. You left it on and hit the heated seats to low, rushing back to Colter where he was breathing shallowly. “Come on, bud. This should help.”

He groaned when you pulled him through the halls and out to the warehouse, cursing a long string of profanities at you that felt like the closest Colter Shaw had ever gotten to going absolute ape shit.

The ache in your chest eased when he hissed at the contact with the seats and then, you swore on your life, he cooed like a newborn baby. With the heat blasting in the car and thanks to the seats warming his bare skin, he finally passed out with a smidge more color to his skin.

“Okay,” you sighed, resting your head against the wheel. “You’re going to be okay.”

The Next Evening

“Hey,” said Russell. You didn’t acknowledge him as you watched flames flicker in the outdoor fireplace back at home. He sat down on the couch behind you, pulling you back into his lap. “Can’t sleep?”

“No,” you said, leaning your head back against his shoulder. You tucked yourself into him, Russell wrapping his arms around your body. “How’s Colter? He sleeping yet?”

“Oh, he’s annoying as hell. Little shit thinks he’ll be driving out of here tomorrow morning.”

You groaned, Russell humming. “He broke his damn leg. He isn’t driving for at least a month. He is staying with us at a minimum until that cast is off.”

“I’m not the one you have to argue with.” You sighed, Russell’s long legs shifting around to lay over top of yours. “You want to talk about it?”

Your eyes welled up, Russell sensing your tension. Your eyelids squeezed tight, something heavy boiling up under your skin.

“What’s the hardest thing? Killing someone? Or almost losing Colter?” he asked quietly. You shrugged, turning your head down to your lap. “He hurt-”

“My little brother died of hypothermia.” Russell went rigid behind you, turning you in his lap so you’d face him. Your bottom lip wobbled as he pulled you in close, his hands on your back. “The car accident…it was winter. My mom died on impact but we went down a ravine. My dad went to get help for me and my brother but it was so cold and we had no heat and Charlie was so hurt…the last thing he ever said was how cold he was.”

You looked over Russell’s shoulder at the dark lake, save for a few homes with lights on across the water.

“I don’t care that I killed that son of a bitch after what he did to Colt. But I just…” You inhaled shakily, gripping Russell’s hoodie tighter. He shushed you, rubbing his hand up and down your back. 

“He’s home with us. He’s safe,” said Russell softly. Long fingers stroked through your hair, tucking you into his neck. “I think Charlie would be really proud of you for protecting Colter like you did.”

“I should have protected him too,” you mumbled. Russell sighed, quietly embracing you. “You’re an older sibling. You understand.”

“Bullshit.” You leaned back fast, glaring at his stern green eyes. “Your dad was an amazing doctor and he left two injured kids. He was either a moron which I doubt or your brother had internal bleeding which made him say he was cold. If it was hypothermia you would have died too.”

“No, my dad said-”

“Was this before or after Owen’s fucked up mob family started drugging your dad so he had psychosis?” Your voice caught in your throat. Russell raised his eyebrows. “Sweetie, do you even know why Charlie died?”

“It was hypo…” You unraveled yourself from him, planting your bare feet on the warm deck. You gripped the couch cushions, closing your eyes, medical facts bouncing around your head. “Jesus, Russ. Why did I think…”

“Because your dad said it. He probably never even remembered he did. Deep down, he didn’t blame you so you shouldn’t blame yourself.”

You stood up, stepping in front of the fire with your arms crossed. You titled your head back, inhaling deeply. “He said a lot of mean things when I was a teenager, as I got older. But at the funeral…he was still himself. He didn’t…”

“No, he didn’t.” Russell stood behind you, curling his arms around your chest, trapping you against his strong warm frame. “So back to my original statement. Charlie, hell your parents too, I know they’re proud of you.”

“I killed a guy,” you scoffed.

“You saved a woman, helped catch a murderer, expose corruption throughout a small town, bring closure to a dozen families with missing loved ones-”

“Russell,” you groaned.

“And you saved my little brother’s life all while risking your own. We are damn proud of you, my queen of darkness.” Your head tilted backwards to look at him, Russell grinning back. “No objection?”

“Fine. You wore me down. I did good,” you grumbled. He chuckled against your ear, giving you a tight hug.

“The words every man loves to hear from his girl,” he laughed, giving you space to turn and hug him back. “You want to try sleeping?”

“In a minute. I want to check on him quick.”

“Don’t be long,” he whispered. He pressed his lips to your forehead, letting them linger. You gave him a hum and slipped inside, walking down the hall to the guest room. You cracked open the door slowly, Colter laying in bed with a frown.

“Need some pain killers?” you whispered as you entered, shutting the door behind you. 

“No,” he grumbled, glancing up at you when you took two pills out of the bottle on the nightstand. “I overheard you and Russell.”

You sat on the edge of the bed, Colter grabbing your arm. He tried to sit up, relenting when you pushed on his shoulder. “Rest. I know that’s a foreign word to you but you have to take things slow if you want to recover correctly.”

“And you need to realize this job is dangerous and I am not your responsibility.”

“No, you’re not.” You ruffled his messy hair gently, Colter pouting. “But that’s what family does for each other.”

He wanted to retort but bit his tongue, grumbling as you fixed his blankets and made him take a painkiller. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you and Russell got engaged?” You glanced down at your hand and the shiny silver band on your finger. 

“When did you notice?”

“When you shot that guy. It helped to think of something else for a bit.” You nodded, playing with the ring. “When’d he ask?”

“About a week ago. We wanted to surprise you and Dory.” His hand fell down to yours, giving it a light squeeze. “Colter, I know you have your issues with your brother but we love you. I know you’re going to hate it but you need to stay here for awhile. At the very least you need to stay with Dory if not us. You can’t be alone right now.”

“I will try to not complain too much,” he said. You smiled, leaning down to hug him. “Thank you for finding me.”

“Let’s not make a habit of it is all,” you said, getting up and pushing his glass of water closer. “Need anything else?”

“I’m good.” You went to the door, Colter clearing his throat. “Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“That red jacket is still fucking obnoxious.” You flipped him off, Colter cracking a smile. 

“Goodnight, asshole.” You turned off his light for him and found Russell curled up in the blankets in bed.

“How’s the patient?” he mumbled, big spooning you as soon as you were tucked under the covers. 

“He’s going to be alright.” 

“Did you ask him about being in the wedding yet?”

“One step at a time, hun.” He chuckled, burying his face against the back of your neck. 

“Try to get some rest too, qark.” You closed your eyes, nodding once. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Russ.”

___________

[roostersbby69]

Back to you

Summary: After having a son and graduating top gun, you get a call to come back. This may be a new opportunity for reconnection, and maybe for love.

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x OC

OC name: Victoria

The drive to the Hard Deck was making my anxiety sky rocket. As soon as I turned the car off I could see through the window, a crowd of people wearing khaki uniforms were conversing and had drinks in their hands. It's been so long since i've seen them.

I got out of my truck and opened the back door to get Dallas, my son, out. Penny, who’s been there for me ever since I found out I was pregnant, was going to watch Dallas while we were in town.

I grabbed his bag and got him out of his car seat, he was previously asleep and waking him up wasn’t usually a good idea.

"Where we going mama?" He asked me rubbing his eyes.

"Miss. Penny is going to watch you remember?" I situated him on my hip comfortably. "You like Miss Penny."

"Yeah she gives me blue lemonade."

"Is that so?" I gasped. "I want some."

He giggled as I locked my truck and walked to the door taking a deep breath.

I adjusted his book bag on my shoulder and opened the door. The sound of chattering, glass clinking, and laughter filled my ears. Many people in uniform, just like me, shot pool and sat at the bar flirting with the bartenders.

Nobody noticed me yet, so I walked over to the bar to set his bag down by Pennys purse. She was nowhere to be seen. Great, just great.

"Let's go sit, yeah?" I asked Dallas.

Once we sat down at an empty spot at the bar I got out his cup and toy dinosaur and let him play and eat his snack. I looked around watching my people drink and laugh and have a good time. Sometimes I wondered what it was like. No priorities, no care in the world. I love my son to death and would do anything for him, but mama needs a break.

    Penny came into my view in front of us as her beautiful pearly white smile greeted us. "Miss Penny!" Dallas smiled. "Hi buddy!" her energy was equal to his as she smiled at him and ruffled his hair. "What's going on Tori?" she asked me as I was still staring into space at the other aviators.

    "Nothing much, just came here you know, business stuff." I blankly said.

"Why don't you go hang out? You know I've got him." She said, "Go have some fun." she poked my arm. "I don't know Penny." She shushed me and shooed me off with her hand. "I've got him, you go do your business. If you need me I'll be right here." I smiled at her and took a deep breath before walking over to one of my good friends, Phoenix.

    "Tori!" She pulled me in for a big hug as she laughed. "Oh my gosh it's been so long!" She squealed. "I know! I've missed you so much." I held onto her arms as I looked at her.

    "Well, well, well" a voice came from behind me, "if it isn't Tiny herself." I looked back to see a familiar face walking towards me. Hangman. His superstar face smiled big as he stopped right by me and Phoenix.

    "Miss me?" I asked him cocking an eyebrow.

    "Always, sweetheart." He smiled down at me slinging an arm around my shoulders.

"Want to introduce me to your friends?" I asked them.

    "Mickey Garcia, callsign Fanboy."

"Nice to meet you, Victoria Austine, callsign Tiny."

    "Tiny?" one of them asked me.

    "You can see where she gets that from." Hangman laughed.

I rolled my eyes and smiled. He was right, standing at 5ft I weigh no more than 110. Most of the women were five foot seven, eleven, etcetera etcetera.

    A little bit later I turned my head to check on Dallas when a certain someone caught my eye, just walking into the room.

    "Hey fellas!" he shouted, taking off his sunglasses. He hung them on his floral shirt as he walked over shaking hands with several of the guys.

    I stood back a little bit to hide myself but, too late. He spotted me.

"My, my Miss Tori." He spoke just for us to hear.

    "Hello Rooster." I greeted him. "Long time no see."

    "You ain't lying." He laughed as he gave me a side hug. I returned one back to him.

    "How've you been?" I asked him.

    "You know, here and there." He said as we pulled apart.

    "I don't know how to feel about that." I laughed.

    He laughed with me. "I've been good. How have you been? It's been a w-" he started to say but something tugged on my khaki pants. I looked down to see Dallas' fingers wrapped around the fabric tugging.

    No, not now. "Uhm, Dallas this is my good friend mister Bradley. Can you say hello?" I grabbed his hand gently.

    "Hello mister Bradley." He spoke to him.

    "Hello Dallas." Bradley spoke. He looked at me, "Is this your brother?" he asked me.

    "Uhm, son actually." I corrected him softly.

    "Oh! Oh, I didn't know you had one, uh kid." He stuttered. "I didn't know you were married." He said.

    I sucked in a breath, "Dallas, honey, why don't you go help miss penny. I'll be right there baby." I said as I looked down at him.

    "Okay mama." He said. I kissed his head as he ran off.

    "Uhm, I'm not. Married." I rubbed my arm.

    "Oh." He said rather loudly, surprised.

    "Yeah." I whispered. There was a long pause.

    "How old is he?" He asked me, changing the subject.

    "He just turned five." I smiled.

    "Wow." he whispered watching Dallas run off. "You're a mama." he looked back down to me.

    "I'm a mama." I smiled.

    "So who's the lucky guy?" He asked.

I hated that question. Because there was no lucky guy. I was young and thought I was in love with this guy. Got pregnant and a year after I had Dallas I found out he cheated on me with my cousin. Yep, word gets around fast in a small town.

    "It's been so long since I've seen you." I said. "Used to be best friends." I looked down.

    "We still are."

    I looked up at him and smiled a small smile.

    "You got any other little ones running around anywhere?" he asked me.

    "Nope, it's just Dallas" I looked over at him, "just me and Dallas."

I looked back up to Rooster who was looking down at me with a frown. I rubbed my hands together and took a deep breath. "So, you want me to buy you a drink or something?" I asked him.

"Are you trying to get me drunk, Tori?" He smirked at me.

"I'm trying to be nice, Rooster." I frowned and cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Bradshaw, as they live and breathe." Hangman came up to us holding a few beers. He handed one to Bradley and tried to hand me one.

"No thank you, I'm driving tonight." I politely declined him.

"Hangman, you look...good." Bradley said.

"Well, I'm very good, Rooster." He took a pool stick from a nearby guy. "I am very good. In fact, I am too good to be true."

Me and Rooster made eye contact and I rolled my eyes. Maybe our friendship is still there somewhere.

"Does anyone have any idea what this special detachment is about?" Payback asked.

"A mission is a mission. They don't confront me." Hangman said walking away to go play pool. "What I want to know, whos going to be the team leader?" He bent down to line the stick up. "And who's gonna have the guts to follow me."

"Hangman, the only place you'll lead anyone is an early grave." Rooster said from beside me. I forgot he was there.

"Well, anyone who follows you is gonna run out of fuel." He stood up with a shit eating grin. "I love this song." he said as he dropped the pool stick and walked off.

"He hasn't changed, not one bit." I said with folded arms to Rooster and Phoenix.

"Nope, not one bit." Phoenix said.

Me, Rooster, Hangman, and Phoenix all went to Top Gun together. Good times. We were like teenagers, dumb, ruthless, and unstoppable.

    I heard a piano playing and a specific voice that snapped my head into its direction.

"You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain!" he sang as his fingers danced along the piano.

"Too much love drives a man insane! You broke my will, oh what a thrill. Goodness gracious great balls of fire!" Everyone in the room yelled.

    It's good to be back.

—————————————————————

Authors note: It’s good to be back.

[ohtobeleah]

Arrival // Robert Floyd

Summary: Your early morning pregnancy cravings turn into more then what you bargained for when you go into labour.

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: Pregnancy. Birth. Robert Floyd x F!reader. Mickey Garcia x Platonic! F!reader. Inaccurate depiction of birth. Fluff!

Author Note: Hi! Happy Saturday folks! Yes, I’m painfully aware this isn’t what you wanted this weekend. However, it’s what you’re getting. So sit back, relax, and enjoy for once something fluffy as fuck.

It wasn’t all that often that you got a good night's rest this late into your pregnancy. Every night was the same as the last, up and down, side to side, kick here and a pain there. You woke with a hiss as  the feeling of what felt like the left side of the rib-cage breaking in half. Your hand imminently came up to caress your stomach, thirty seven weeks along, with no sign of labour in sight. 

“Shh—go back to sleep, little one.” You whined as you slowly circled your hand over your swollen belly. As the kicking persisted the realisation set in that you wouldn’t be getting any sleep anytime soon. “Without fail hey?” It was almost a nightly ritual at this point. You’d toss and turn for a few short hours before you’d accept your fate. 

As you sat up carefully and ever so slowly so as to not wake your boyfriend, you checked the time on your phone. You were, at the very least— unimpressed at the time staring back at you, 2:30am. A slight moan left your mouth as you rolled over to see the love of your life, Robert Floyd, sleeping soundly next to you. A soft but all consuming smile crept across your face at the sight of him. He was just unapologetically Bob. His soft nature and caring personality was what drew you to him in the first place, and now, in the early hours of the morning, you fell just a little more in love with him with every soft snore that escaped past his slightly parted lips. The love you had for your partner Bob radiated through you like the strongest drug of all. It was so powerful and so consuming that your little bundle of joy that was due earth side any day now felt that love and got a little too excited. A hard kick planted itself into your side. 

“Yeah bubba, I know.” You tried to contain the small gasp of pain that threatened to echo out into the quiet of the night as you rubbed your stomach in a sweet soothing motion. “Daddy’s still sleeping, I wish I was too.” You swore if you could see your baby girl right now, she’d be poking her tiny tongue out at you. Every bit the cheeky girl her dad used to be when he was a little boy. 

“Ow!” You winced, your little bundle of joy really enjoyed using you as her personal punching bag. “Bub, please stop yeah? It’s not funny anymore, well it never was to begin with, but yeah just cut it out okay?” You spoke to your expected daughter a lot, you’d read somewhere that while in the womb expected children can hear voices and recognise important people like mum and dad. a”let’s go get something to eat before daddy wakes up.” You spoke softly to yourself under your breath as you waddled your way into the kitchen. 

At the beginning of your pregnancy, Bob had begun  stockpiling the fridge and pantry with weird and wonderful food so you would never go without. You bit your lip as you looked through the plentiful pantry, your eyes fell on the fresh container of peanut butter. Placing it on the counter you opened the fridge, your mouth instantly salivated at the sight of the pickle jar. Specifically dill pickles, specifically the kind Bob's grandma made. There was nothing better than a crisp home-brined pickle and your little girl couldn't agree more as you used the small, strategically placed stepping stool to help yourself up onto the kitchen bench. It wasn’t long at all before you had the lid of the peanut butter off and were dipping the pickles straight into the peanut butter. 

Your little girl kicking at your stomach as if to say she was happy with your late-night or rather early morning decision.

“I know, good right?” You giggled to yourself as you dipped another pickle into the peanut butter. It wasn’t long at all before you heard heavy footsteps pattering down the hall from your bedroom. “Opp, it’s the fed's baby girl.” You teased loud enough so that Bob could hear. “Hide the evidence.” A gentle hand landed on your shoulder, massaging the tense muscle softly as you leaned into your boyfriend’s touch. 

“What unholy thing are you snacking on this early in the morning baby?” You heard the early morning grumble in a sleepy Robert Floyd’s voice as he wiped his hand over his eyes. 

“Hey, don’t knock it till you try it, besides—“ you took another bite of the peanut covered pickle. “Your daughter was the one craving it, not me.” Everything you had eaten in the past month had been at the decision of your unborn child. She was picky and very weird. The amount of watermelon you had consumed had to have been a world record and you couldn’t stand the smell of any kind of cooked meat right now. It was later in your pregnancy that your cravings and food aversions really started to hit and hit hard. 

Bob moved himself between your legs as they dangled over the edge of the counter-top to rest his hands on your hips. 

“Why do you insist on making your mama eat weird food combinations baby? And not to mention she doesn’t like to be woken up at all hours of the morning. She needs her beauty sleep angel, well not that she isn’t beautiful, but you get the point.” Bob babbled as he leaned down to place a gentle kiss on your belly. She kicked in response to hearing her daddy's voice. “You know—” Bob smirked as he came back up to leave a kiss on your lips, trailing tender kissing down the left side of your neck. “You look awfully sexy while you’re pregnant, not that you weren’t sexy before, but you have this glow about you that I can't resist.” Bob continued his assault on your neck. 

A soft moan left your mouth as your lips parted at the feeling of Bob’s warm lips against your neck. He ran his hands up your oversized shirt which was coincidentally, his, and placed them atop your baby bump. 

“I can’t wait to meet our beautiful girl, she’s going to be just as perfect as you, I know it.” 

“Mmm, I’m not perfect Bob.” You tried to argue as you bit into the next pickle. Bob chuckled at the sight of you obnoxiously chewing, purposefully exaggerating your facial expressions. It didn’t take him long at all to cave in to the curiosity.

“Okay let me try—“ Bob gestured to the pickle in your hand. “C’mon, give me a bite.” You dipped it into the peanut butter once more and placed it in his awaiting mouth. Bob's face contorted into something of disgust as you chuckled softly. He ran to the sink to spit the pickle out. “Oh god, that’s definitely a flavour combination I’m not keen to try again.” Spitting into the sink, Bob washed his mouth out with the running tap. 

You couldn’t control your laughter, tears had begun to form in your eyes. “Oh? you think that's funny, huh? We’ll see who’s laughing in a second.” Bob teased as he sauntered back over to you and started his assault on your body. His fingers moved all over your body sending shivers and Goosebumps all over. 

“Robert! Stop it, stop B-Bob!” You laughed out loud through gasps and giggles as he continued tickling you. In the early hours of the morning Bob let out a boisterous laugh. He loved you. Oh so much. 

“Who's laughing now huh?” 

“Bob, I can’t breathe s-stop p-please—.” As you pleaded with your boyfriend, you felt as if you wet yourself, however, unlike all the other times you have due to your baby girl pressing inconveniently on your bladder, this time felt more intense. The feeling kept going until you saw water dripping down the bench.

“Bob! oh—oh my god, I think, I think my water just broke.” Bob's eyes imminently widened as he stared at you in fear. Like the last nine months hadn’t been building up to this very moment. 

“What? You aren’t due for another two weeks?” Worry was prominent in his tone. You could tell he was starting to panic, the thought of him having a life dependent on him starting to set in. You knew you needed to calm Bob before things progressed into something more severe, so you reached out to grab his face with both your hands and rubbed the pads of your thumbs against his cheeks. 

“Bob homey, listen to me.” Those ocean blue eyes were truly home to you. “My water just broke— so you need to take me to the hospital yeah? Fanboy and I put an emergency hospital bag together a few weeks ago in case I went into labor while we were out so it's in the back of the Jeep.” 

“Oh, okay, i-i'll go wake h-him up.” Bob and Fanbky had lived together off base since they first came back to North Island a few years ago. They’d been friends for as long as you’d known Bob for. “Holy shit—I can’t believe this is act-actually happening.” He stuttered as he lent into your hands, the feeling of you caressing his check comforted him. Of course, you’d go into labor and STILL have to take care of Bob, you were his rock, his entire world, you’d always be there to take care of the love of your life so nothing was different about this situation. 

Bob helped you down off the kitchen countertop as a sharp pain radiated throughout your lower abdomen. It took your breath away for a moment. You circled your hand over your stomach and took a deep breath in. 

“Ohh— little girl you just had to come tonight didn’t you?”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“Mickey? could you maybe drive a little be faster, please?” The contractions had come quickly. Bob was sitting in the back with you, stressed as all hell, rubbing small circles against your lower back as you tried breathing through the pain as best you could. All Mickey did was smile at you through the rear-view mirror. 

“Y/n, even when you’re in labour you're still so nice.” Mickey grinned— he was so excited to meet his best friend's first child. His daughter. 

“How you feeling bub?” What kind of a stupid question that was, you thought to yourself. 

“Umm not good, I just want to get to the ho-hospital.” Tears now traveled down your face. “I’m scared baby, I don’t think I can’t do this.” Your contraction eased, you were thankful for the moment to breathe as you settled back against the backseat. 

“Baby, Y/n, listen to me yeah?” Bob held your face softly between his slightly calloused hands, the pads of his thumbs collecting your tears. “You are the strongest person I know, you carried our baby girl for nine months, nine months baby! You can do this and I'll be with you through the whole thing.”

“yeah! so will I!” Mickey tried to lighten the mood, he thought if he could make you laugh you’d feel a little better before yet another contraction washed over you. “Y/n please try not to have a baby on my new seats?” Fanboy joked as he tried to keep you smiling. You knew Mickey was joking the moment he said it. He was such a good support system. 

You let out such a loud moan that you were convinced the car next to you at the red light could hear you. 

“I’ll try not to Mick b-but I’m n-not going to p-promise you anythi-OH-MY, GOD! Bob, help me.” As you wailed you grabbed onto Bob's forearm and squeezed through your pain. It felt like a million more hours had passed you by before you were finally arriving at the emergency room waiting bay at the Miramar Base Hospital. 

“Baby, we’re here okay, as soon as Mickey pulls up i'll help you out.” Bob kissed your temple, sweaty and hot, as you leaned into him already exhausted from the last hour and a half since your water first broke. As Bob hopped out to help you, Mickey ran up to a nurse going inside the hospital. Probably coming back from taking a breath of fresh air. 

“Excuse me miss? My best friend's fiancée is in labour, she needs help.” You didn’t even register at first what he called you. You were just Bob's girlfriend, not his fiancée. You couldn’t help but scoff at yourself for thinking too much into what Fanboy had called you while you were literally about to give birth. 

“What’s so funny? Bob asked. “You okay babe?” Again, no. No you weren’t okay. But Bob was just doing his best to be the support you needed right now. 

“Nothing hun, just excited to meet our little girl who’s currently trying to tear me to shreds right now.” It wasn’t an exaggeration—you felt as if you were about to be split in two. 

But it was about to be so worth it. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~*

Three hours later: 

“AAHHHH, fucking hell can’t she come any faster!” you were in so much pain at this point. You were currently bent over the hospital bed leaning your head on the bars and moving your hips around in a circular motion. Bob was being nothing but supportive, feeding you ice chips every once and a while and rubbing your lower back. He hated seeing you in so much pain. Even if you were a  sweaty cracked out mess Robert Floyd still thought you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. 

 “You're doing great baby, I know she’s being stubborn, but she’ll be here soon.” A nervous laugh left your mouth.

“Screw you, Floyd, she’s already just like her dad, stubborn and what feels like big headed!” Bob fed you another ice chip as he ran his finger over your bottom lip as you took it from his hand. 

“I’ll let that comment slide considering you're bringing our daughter into the world.” Bib moved your hair over your shoulder to gain access to your neck. His peppered gentle kisses along the side as your latest contraction subsided. Things were progressing smoothly, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. 

You were glistening with a layer of sweat from your contractions as your body prepared itself for birth. exhausted from the pain, you leaned into Bobs touch, his arms snake their way around your body to support your weight. 

“Come on bub lets get you in bed yeah?” Bob moved the covers back and you slid in slowly, almost scared that any movement you made could trigger your next contraction. As Bob was placing the thin blanket over your legs the nurse came in to check on your process. 

“You’re about eight centimetres dilated honey, we can start to push at ten so your very close.” You almost didn’t respond. You were far too tired to think as you rolled over onto your left side as another contraction washed over you. Bob noticed you struggling to breathe and placed the oxygen mask they nurse had previously set up for you on. 

Bob pushed your hair back and tied it up in a loose ponytail, he was just trying to make you as comfortable as possible. You looked at him. He was so perfect, you couldn’t imagine going through this amount of pain for anyone else. He was your biggest supporter, your best friend, your therapist. You were his soulmate, his biggest Stan, his number one girl. From the moment you met Robert Floyd you instantly gravitated to each other, a wonderful flirtatious friendship which bloomed into a beautiful relationship complete with all its perfect imperfections. 

He would stop by the small coffee shop on his way to work every morning and you’d be there, with his order ready to go and made to perfection. 

At this point, you were coming close to your three-year anniversary, your gift to Bob? Telling him you were pregnant. The poor guy almost had a heart attack but was ecstatic, to say the least. 

You caught yourself reminiscing and focused back on Bob “I love you so much.” You mumbled into the mask. He smiled back at you letting out a chuckle.

“You won’t be saying that in a few moments baby.” Bob was already prepared for the worst. You were always the nicest out of the two of you and that was saying something. You felt your whole body tighten at the feeling of what felt like the most painful contraction yet and that was it, you couldn’t hold in the cry that you let out. It was a guttural scream as you tried to breathe through it the best you could.

Bob’s face filled with heartache as he watched the women he loved unconditionally go through agonising pain, he’d give his life to ease your pain just the slightest bit, yet there was absolutely nothing he could do to help. And it killed him. 

“Babe, I’m going to get the nurse okay.” He started to move away but you pulled him back by his arm. “Honey—“

“Don't you dare leave me, Robert Floyd, I n-need you here now.” Your eyes filled with tears as the light layer of sweat turned into dripping beads. Just as Bob turned back to say he’d be right back you felt a sudden urge to push. 

“Bob, I need this baby out of me right now! I can’t do this anymore!!” Sobbing, you screamed out in pain just as the nurse ran in.

“Darling I heard you from the reception, do you feel like you need to push? She said as she sat down on the swivel stool and rolled herself in between your legs at the end of the bed. 

“YES! YES, I need this fucking thing out of me NOW!” You felt bad for Bob at this point. He was just standing there holding your hand as you endured the most amount of pain he’d ever seen someone go through. He must have pressed the call for help button moments prior as three other nurses ran into the room. 

“Okay Y/n on the count of three I want you to push for me, can you do that? Dad, I want you to count down from ten for me out loud okay? Y/n don’t stop pushing till he’s finished counting” you nodded your head. “Okay in three, two, one push Y/n push” Bob held onto your hand a little tighter as he began to count down from ten, you pushed as hard as you could.

 “7, 6, 5….” 

“BOB COUNT FASTER!” Screaming at the top of your lungs, you continued to push, gripping his hand as tight as you could in the process. 

One—alright Y/n stop pushing, have a break, you did so well darling.” The nurse said as she inspected exactly how far along your baby was. You fell back onto the pillow, just to look up at Bob. 

“Make. It. stop.” Your breathing weighed heavily on your chest. Bob looked at you with wide eyes. He felt helpless. 

“I wish I could baby I’m so sorry, you're doing so well yeah? Just a few more pushes and she’ll be with us forever.” You had to push again, this time wasn’t any easier, but you knew that every second you pushed as hard as you could you would meet your baby girl quicker. That this would be over. That the pain in this moment would be worth it. That the last nine months were entirely worth it. 

“I hate you, I hate so much, you did this to me.” You looked at Bob, the love of your life, almost ready to pass out. “You are never coming anywhere near me again after this.” Bob couldn’t have looked more upset. He knew you were in agony though. He knew you were just going through it. 

“Don’t worry daddy, she’ll still love you after this, probably even more.” The nurse between your legs chuckled. “I hear it all the time.” 

“The hell I will!!!” You interrupted the nurse making her and Bob both laugh. He was so in love with you. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

You were on your final push. 

“Okay Y/n final push and your baby girl will be here, are you ready?” Drenched in sweat, completely and utterly exhausted you mumbled up to Bob who had yet to let go of your hand the entire time. 

“Just get this thing out of me.” Pushing as hard as you could, a scream erupting from your throat and suddenly, the pain was just……gone. A small cry filled the room and your head hit the pillow, exhausted. A few moments passed and the nurse returned to place the newly wrapped bundle of joy onto your chest, yet to be cleaned of all the blood and gunk from inside you. But oh she was perfect just the way she was. 

“Oh, oh hi little one I’m your mama.” Tears of joy streamed from your eyes as you looked at your baby girl for the first time. She was perfect, everything you could have imagined and more. 

“She so tiny, hi baby girl, I’m your daddy.” Bob whispered as he gently touched his little girl's tiny head. “Baby, you did so well, I'm so proud of you.” He kissed your forehead in thankfulness. “Thank you so much for giving me the best gift of all, thank you for giving birth to the best little girl in the world.” Bob couldn’t control his tears as he planted another kiss on your forehead. “I love my girls so much.” 

“I don’t hate you, I could never hate you.” laughter escaped from both your mouths. “Here, you wanna hold her?” Bon nodded with a gentle smile that had crept across his face. You lifted your baby girl up towards Bob's strong awaiting arms, he held her so close, so gently. Your heart overflowed with happiness. He’d never let anything bad happen to her. Not to his little girl. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

Two hours later 

After receiving some stitches and getting cleaned up you were happily resting with your newborn on your chest getting precious skin to skin time. 

“Y/n are you sure you don’t want me to leave?” At this point it felt like the whole world had seen your vagina, so you didn’t really care if Fanboy had stuck around in the waiting room for updates. Now, he stood by the window, wondering if he was crossing some invisible boundary as you tried your hand at breastfeeding. 

“No Micky,  I really don’t care, trust me, I’m just happy this little one is here”. Bob had gone to get you three some food, naturally asking Mickey to watch over his girls while he was gone. He was busy giving the rest of the Daggers updates on how you and your newborn were travelling. 

“Hey Mick? When we arrived here this morning you said something to the nurse. It was probably an accident and I’m totally over-analyzing the situation, but you referred to me as Bob's Fiancée?” Fanboy spat the water he was drinking from one of those little plastic cups all over the room, completely shocked with the statement. Did he actually? In the whirlwind did he actually let that one slip? 

“I uhhh, i-I did? Huh, that’s so weird, I honestly didn’t even notice I did that.” At this point, after having known Mickey Garcia for well over three years, you could read him like the back of your hand, you knew he was lying. But just as you were about to answer back, your baby girl started to cry, wanting to be fed. 

“Here, ill leave, give you some privacy” Fanboy thought he was doing you a favour as he begun walking towards the door of your maternity room when you stopped him. You weren’t all that ready to be alone yet. What if something happened? 

“Please stay Mick? I really don’t want to be alone and plus Bib would kill you if you went against his wishes and left his girl alone.” The tiny baby latched straight onto your nipple no problem. She was just perfect. 

“Okay, but i'll face the window, I feel like a pervert.” 

“Then don’t perv then?” Minutes later she was done feeding, You gently gave her a quick burp and asked Mickey if he could put her in her baby bed, so you could at least get a few minutes of sleep. She had after all woken you up at a crisp two thirty in the morning. 

“I don’t want to hurt her, are you sure you want me to?” 

“Of course I do! you’re her uncle, plus I know that we’re going to need your help a lot so you may as well start practicing now.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***

You must have been out for a while, when you woke up, a smiling Robert Floyd was nursing his baby girl. Holding her close as he paced around the room. 

“I'll protect you with everything I have darling, you’ll always be loved and cared for. Your mamma was my best girl, my one and only love, I didn’t think I could love another girl as much as I love her but then you came into my life and I'd happily use her as a shield to protect you.” He laughed at his own joke. 

Great, the first dad joke and it was only the beginning of your forever of your lives together, you thought to yourself. A tiny cry came from the little human in his arms. “Shhh, shhh don’t wake your mama up darling, she’s been through a lot to get you here to me, she deserves her rest now my sweet, sweet girl.” Bob bounced her as he walked around the room slowly. 

“We still have to pick a name for you baby, I like Lily or Sky, we can’t name you Natasha because that would give Aunty Nix too much power, and we don’t want that now do we?” You laughed, startling Bob a little that he jumped a bit.

“Sorry I scared you, but very true. If it means anything I love the name Lily.” Bobs eyes went wide as a smile grew from ear to ear. 

“Did we just name our daughter?” Biting into your bottom lip you nodded in agreement. He walked over to you dawning beaming smile. Bob was completely filled with all the  love in the universe for his two beautiful girls. 

Bob placed Lily down onto your chest and you noticed something odd around her tiny fingers. You took a moment to process what it was. A shiny diamond ring, the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. besides your beautiful daughter.

“Bob?” Was all that fell out of your mouth before your eyes started to well for the seventh hundred time today. He brought his chair up to the side of your bed and rested his hand on the side of your face, caressing your wet check just as you had done to him back at home earlier that morning. 

“Y/n will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?” Bob had told Fanbky earlier that week he was planning on asking you to marry him. That why in the flurry, Mickey had let it slip. 

You knew this day would come, you felt it in your heart. You loved Robert Floyd so fiercely and so tenderly and you knew he loved you just as much. 

He reached out gently to place the beautiful engagement ring his grandmother had given him on your finger. And with the happiest of tears with your newborn resting on your chest, you got the chance to say yes. 

“Robert Floyd, I thought you’d never ask.”

[aeoncss]

…some more of my personal movie!mike headcanons

authors note: thank you so much for all the love on my recent mike posts omg? yall are so sweet ):

cw: not much except for like 2 nsfw hcs (18+!)

stiff as a ROCK when he sleeps. he always manages to fall asleep on his stomach but somehow always wakes up on his back, and if you try to wake him up with just a gentle shove or a poke — he’s dead to the world.

9/10 times you have to push him out of the bed or (politely) slap his arm / cheek to get him up.

can make some of the the best pancakes ever. learned how to make them into fun shapes for abby, like mickey mouse ears or a smiley face.

mike doesn’t really like large bodies of water, and that does include pools. if abby or his partner ask to go to a lake or to a nearby pool, he’s practically hiding underneath the shade the entire time.

butttttt will get into the water eventually. just takes a whole lotta pleading.

100% the human embodiment of hangry. feed this man or he will choke someone out.

loves, LOVES using nicknames / pet names. angel, baby, honey. got to the point where mike started using it all the time rather than every once in awhile and he will stare at his partner in shock if they ever have the audacity to call him by his first name.

“mike? mike? no baby or babe? did i do something wrong?”

mike gets super shy / embarrassed if you go down on him. not because he’s insecure, but because you’re fucking going down on him. his eyes are on you the entire time, he’s struggling to keep his hands still and constantly moves them between your head or your neck. also can’t look at you swallowing him down or he will cum immediately.

unironically loves those stupid raunchy comedy movies with way too much cussing and random acts of nudity. he doesn’t even enjoy them, he likes the fact that they’re so bad that they turn out hilarious.

^ speaking of cursing, he tries hard to not have a potty mouth inside the house. if his partner is around, he asks them to not cuss as well (or as much) because he doesn’t want abby to pick up on it.

man will probably pass away if he ever heard her cuss out randomly.

surprisingly really handy when it comes to building and repairing stuff? he learned some basics from his dad, like how to change out a tire or mess with something under the hood of his car. but, he also built abby a swing-set in their backyard with little to no instructions, and it’s still in pretty good condition. things like that come super easily to him.

mike absolutely hates celebrating his birthday. don’t remind him that he’s getting older. (but maybe do get him like a small cupcake or something. he still wants a sweet treat out of it)

he likes candy corn. i 100% stand by this.

loves positions where he’s able to press right up against his partner. missionary, doggy but with their stomach flat on the bed and his chest pressed against their back. it makes it feel much more intimate with him, and he’s able to groan right against their ear…

knows how to play the guitar. not great, knows only a few songs, and refuses to play any of them with people around. has to be by himself so he has the silence to help him concentrate.

[ange1sang]

going under

gallavich/ian x mickey, word count: ~996

summary: the first time mickey tells ian he loves him. ; canon compliant, set seasons 4-5, hurt/comfort, fluff, crying, sex

a/n: here's my contribution for mickey's birthday !!! a day late but i just moved yesterday and fell asleep trying to finish it so </3 here it is !!

Mickey's drowning in Ian. He isn't sure how but he knows he is, every last sense overwhelmed by the redhead above him.

The smell of his skin - soft, clean - and the smell of his cologne - strong, overly masculine - clings to his nostrils. The taste of his spit and sweat, spread over his lips like a thick layer of cheap chapstick. His skin is so hot beneath his palms it feels like he's pressed his hands to a stovetop. His voice buzzes in his ears, every breathy moan and groan and bit back curse word like a shot of adrenaline. And when he focuses his eyes on the face above him, it's like a too-hard hit to the head, the kind that has him thinking he's seeing God.

Ian's beautiful. He'd been gone for so long Mickey'd almost forgotten what it was like getting to see his face. Getting to see his freckles, count every little patch of them like stars in the sky. Getting to grab the back of his neck and pull him close enough that they're breathing the air straight out of each other's lungs.

It reminds Mickey of his very first nicotine high. Veins thrumming, stomach tingling, fingertips trembling. His bottom lip shakes, hands scrambling for purchase. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to shut out the dizzying feeling in the back of his head. His hands land on Ian's shoulders, nails digging into the freckles scattered across Ian's right shoulder, leaving behind little red marks that Mickey wishes would stay there forever.

"Gonna cum?" Ian asks, and he asks like he's teasing, but the strain in his voice gives him away. He's probably closer than than Mickey is. If this were a year ago, or even months ago, Mickey would've teased right back, would've poked fun and called Ian one of the dumb nicknames he seems to love so much. But right now his voice ties itself into knots, catches in his chest.

Ian leans down, kisses along his jaw. Open-mouthed and gentle, nudging his nose into Mickey's cheek like he's committing his scent to memory. Ian buries himself deep inside him, rocks his hips and presses as deep into Mickey as he can get. He's groaning through gritted teeth and Mickey could live off of that sound, could spend the rest of his life drowning in it like he's doing right now.

"Gonna cum, Mick," Ian murmurs into his cheek and his voice is so gentle that it rocks Mickey's world. "Want me to jerk you off?"

Mickey tries to nod, tries to do anything less embarrassing than what he can feel his body trying to do. It doesn't work. Ian reaches down between them, and a sob tears itself from Mickey's throat.

"Mick?" Ian asks, pulling back from his cheek to look him in the eyes. Concern shines through when their eyes meet, and it makes Mickey's heart squeeze in his chest. Because Ian's been so absent since he came back, eyes always half-lidded or open too wide, always focused on someone else or not focused at all. He's been so out of it, so drugged up and so fucked out that Mickey isn't sure a single one of his words has gotten through to Ian since he's been back. Ian pauses where he's pressed into Mickey, stops his movements in the middle of cumming even though his arms start to shake where they're holding him up. "Mickey?"

And as much as he'd rather drown, Mickey has to come up for air before he's totally smothered by Ian.

"I love you," he says, voice barely reaching a whisper. Hot, fat tears roll down his temples, and he crosses his arms over his face so Ian won't see them. His chest heaves even as he swallows back another sob. "You asshole. I love you. I thought you weren't coming back."

Ian stays quiet, but his body melts against Mickey, hands sliding down his sides and pulling him into a sweaty, sticky, uncomfortable hug. It's the sweetest way anyone's ever touched Mickey. He cries shallowly, and in doing so breathes in another mouthful of Ian's scent.

"I came back," Ian whispers, and it's all Mickey can do not to smack him upside the head. He settles for punching his shoulder weakly.

"Fuck you," he mutters. Ian's lips press to his temple and turn up to form a small smile as he kisses him there. It reminds Mickey of the smile he gave him when he visited him in juvie for the first time. His heart squeezes so hard in his chest it hurts.

"I love you too," Ian says, lips moving against Mickey's skin. He moves his head just enough to kiss his ear and then the trail of tears on the side of his face. "I love you too."

It sounds so easy when Ian says it, nothing like how the words tore themselves from Mickey seconds ago. It sounds like he was meant to say it. Mickey uncovers his eyes and Ian pulls back to look at him, to really look at him, for the first time since he's been back. He smiles, soft and sweet and freckly and dorky like Ian's been since the first time Mickey saw him, and the clenching in Mickey's chest lets up a little.

"Stay, then," Mickey mumbles, and it sounds pathetic. It's weak. It's like he's pleading. It's the gayest thing he's ever said. He can't find it in him to feel embarrassed or ashamed like he expects to feel.

"Okay," Ian replies, once again like it's the easiest thing he's ever said. He leans in to kiss him and it's like being able to breathe underwater. Mickey breathes him in, runs his fingers through his hair, swallows as much as he can get.

"I love you," he says right into Ian's mouth. It isn't easy this time either but it hurts less. He hopes one day it won't hurt at all.

[vivwritesfics]

Love cowboy Rooster so I have idea,

Rooster and reader taking a trail ride (with others horses if you want) to a lake to have a picnic date while the horses are going crazy in the water :)

Also I love how you did a mixture of both the ideas, I loved it 🥹

-🐎

in my multipart baby of a bob cowboy fic the callsigns are nicknames they got from the rodeo -- same applies here

Bradley would never get sick of the sight of this. Of her in the barn, wearing a sundress and his fucking Stetson. All she was doing was leaning against a stable door, feeding Goose a sugar cube.

(Goose was Bradley's dad's horse. They'd gotten him at two years old from auction just months before Nick Bradshaw sadly passed. Bradley had kept Goose going for the better part of twenty eight years. He was too old to ride now, and nobody loved him more than Bradley's girlfriend).

Bradley couldn't stop himself from sliding his arm around her shoulders and pulling her in for a kiss. "Ready to go?"

"Let me say goodbye to Goose," she said and pulled the Stetson from her head to place it on his own.

The way Bradley watched her, it could only be described as having hearts for eyes. He watched as she held Goose's nose and lifted it, giving the little pink patch on his nose a kiss. "We'll be back soon, buddy," she said as his nose came to rest on her shoulder.

"C'mon," Bradley said and gently pulled her away. If he had any competition in this world, it was Goose.

Bradley helped her get into Bo's saddle. He didn't have to help her, but he always liked to. As soon as her feet her in the stirrups and she had leaned down to kiss him, he moved on, easily swinging himself up into Rusty's saddle.

They set off, riding side by side away from the Bradshaw ranch. It had been his parents before his. When his father died, Pete Mitchell (who had earnt the nickname from the rodeo) stepped up for a few years. Bradley couldn't remember when Pete left, he didn't even remember him being there. But Bradley had been the man of the house for damn near twenty years.

When his mother died, he was all alone on the ranch. Well, until she came along.

She, who brought that sparkle of light back into his life. She, who Bradley loved with everything that he had. She rode beside him, barely holding onto Bo. She didn't need to, not when he would loyally follow Rusty.

When they got to the lake, there was a series of whoops and hollers. Bradley jumped down from Rusty first. He knew she didn't need help getting out of Bo's saddle; he just liked standing behind her, pulling her against him for a brief second.

"Nice hat!" Jake 'Hangman' Seresin called towards her.

There was a time where she would have been so embarrassed that she rushed to place the hat back onto Bradley's head, but she just grinned at Jake. "Thanks," she said, tongue poking between her teeth as Bradley tied the horses up. "Stole it."

Jake rolled his eyes, but there was no malice behind it. She took her seat beside Bob, gratefully accepting the water he offered her. It wasn't often the squad got to do things like this. Jake and Natasha were both on the rodeo circuit and Bob, Javi, Mickey and Reuben all worked on ranches in the area.

Bradley sat down beside her and immediately pulled her closer, planting a kiss to her cheek.

"Are we gonna see you on the circuit this year, Bradshaw?" Nat asked from where she laid in the sun, her own hat covering her head.

Although Bradley (Or Rooster, as they called him on the circuit) was born and raised for the rodeo, he gave it up. Once his mom died and he was alone running the ranch, he just couldn't. There was far too much to do. Besides, he didn't miss the buckle bunny's begging for him to take them back to his Bronco.

"Yeah, Bradshaw," his girl said, but it didn't take him by surprise. She loved watching him do what he did best.

He finally took the hat from her head and placed it on her own. "You want to watch, pretty girl?" He asked, his mouth close to hers. They kissed and, well, a little more, only pulling away when they heard the group of late twenties/thirty year olds shouting 'ew!'

[mouseymilkovich]

In honor of our most recent shenanigans - I would like to request a Dad!LipxReader where Lip takes his baby girl (toddler age 1-3 years old🤗) to a *water*park (since it is summer after all!) & also takes Frannie and Deb’s / Sandy along & lip realizes when reader is tending to Frannie/Their little babe that he really does wanna get married after tossing it around in his mind after a while 🥰😍

CAPRI MY BELOVED!!!! yes. i love this.

no content tags !! just loads of fluff. and introducing reader's daughter with Lip officially: Morgan Claudia Gallagher (Claudia after Clyde Youens our beloved<3)

A small pile of Gallaghers (and two honourary Gallaghers) in a van— Debbie, Franny, Sandy, Liam, Lip, you, plus your daughters, Xan and Morgan, all on your way to the waterpark, in an attempt to beat Chicago's summer heat.

You and Lip had very briefly discussed getting married a few times— for a few reasons, one of the biggest being that technically, you weren't a legal guardian of Liam or Xan, only Lip was, it'd be easier for you to become that if you were married... and the even bigger and most obvious reason, you two were in love. But, marriage also scared the hell out of both of you.

As the family settled on a place to sit and keep their things, you slathered sunscreen on all the kids— Morgan, then Franny, then Liam, then Xan.

"Why do I even need sunscreen?" Liam asked.

You sighed. "Buddy, we've been over this a million times— it protects you from more than sunburns."

Lip couldn't help chuckling to himself as he watched you with all the little ones; though, Xan and Liam weren't so little anymore. It got him thinking about the whole marriage thing again...

You, looking beautiful in a wedding dress. Ian being his best man. Maybe Debbie would be your maid of honour, she always adored you and you loved her, no matter how ridiculous or stupid she could be. Xan, Franny, and Morgan all as little flower girls, Liam being a ring bearer. Maybe Mickey giving you away, seeing as your own father wasn't in the picture...

"Dada?" Morgan's little voice broke Lip from his thoughts.

"What's up, sweetheart?" He asked her with a smile.

"Mama says 's youw tuwn fow sunscween!" She told him, motioning over to where you were looking at him expectantly.

Lip laughed softly and nodded. He gave Morgan a quick kiss on the head, then went over to you. "Right. That."

"We really don't need a repeat of last summer, do we?" You teased as you started rubbing sunscreen on Lip's back.

Ah yes, last summer, when he refused sunscreen, but you were too busy with Morgan fussing you pay attention. And spent majority of the following two weeks complaining about the gnarly sunburn he acquired— Xan and Liam would not stop making fun of him, calling him the names of various red fruits and vegetables.

"No, we don't." Lip muttered with a reluctant groan as you made sure every inch of his exposed skin with sunscreen.

You laughed a little, rolling your eyes as he turned to face you so you could get his front.

He smirked a little at you, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Keep touchin' me like that and we're gonna end up giving Morgan a baby sibling."

"Oh my god, get your mind out of the gutter." You giggled, playfully poking him in the ribs. Oh, if only he knew...

"It never leaves the gutter, babe."

┈

Once you were sure everybody was sunscreened up, including Debbie and Sandy, Lip took it upon himself to take Liam on the biggest waterslide the park had to offer. Xan would've joined them, but she was a little intimidated by it— maybe later.

Instead, Xan took Morgan and Franny over to the little kiddie pool in front of where you guys had parked your things. Debbie and Sandy had gone to get everybody drinks.

While you sat alone, watching your daughters and niece, your mind wandered to the same place Lip's had earlier— marriage. Somehow, in your mind, being married to Lip would simultaneously change everything and nothing. You'd officially be a Gallagher, you'd become Liam and Xan's legal guardian, you'd be fucking married.

"That was awesome!" Liam shouted as he and Lip returned to you, the same time Debbie and Sandy returned with drinks.

You laughed softly. "I'm glad, buddy! I know you've wanted to go on that slide forever."

You recalled coming to the same waterpark with Lip and his siblings when the littlest ones were younger, even baby Liam looked at that giant slide in awe. Back then, you and Lip hadn't been more than friends, and you never would've imagined having a baby with him either. The thought made you smile.

"Hey, um, Debs, Sandy, you wanna take the kids on a ride?" You asked, hinting you wanted a second with Lip.

The pair looked at you, and shrugged, then Sandy went to round up the girls.

"Yay! Auntie Sandy!" Morgan giggled happily as Sandy scopped up your daughter and Franny.

As the pair headed off with the kids, you looked at Lip with a little smile.

"So... we were talking about... yknow..." You muttered, trying to hint.

Lip took a second, then he realized, his eyes widening a bit. "Y-Yeah? What about it?"

"Do you still wanna—"

"Fuck, baby, seriously?! Of course, but— shit! You gotta let me do it properly!" Lip said quickly

You laughed loudly, taking his face in your hands. "You know I don't care about you doing it 'properly' or whatever, babe." You muttered softly.

"Yeah, but... I wanna." He muttered softly, sighing a little.

You smiled softly, then kissed Lip gently. "Okay. But make it soon, cus... I've been feeling a little sick lately."

Lip's eyes widened again. He remembered the last time you said those words to him. "You're...?"

"I think so."

[corrodedbisexual]

The original plushie

Steddie | G | ~4.1k | AO3 link

This fanart of Eddie sleeping with a bunch of stuffed toys by @baleful-blurbs infected my brain and refused to leave until this ridiculous fluffy thing got written 😭 Please make sure to reblog those wonderful sketches to support the artist who inspired the plushie silliness♥️

Featuring: Tooth-Rotting Fluff, seriously beware of cavities, Light Angst, Plushies, Childhood Memories, POV Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Good Parent Wayne Munson, Requited Love, Cuddling, Getting Together, Boys In Love

The mortifying ordeal of Eddie's crush discovering his secret plushie cuddle nest turns out to be not so mortifying after all. Steve even starts borrowing said plushies to take back home with him; some time later, Eddie finds out why.

Snippet under the cut

“Who’s this?” Steve asks, grinning as he pokes at the teddy’s ridiculous smiley face. 

“Oh. That’s… that’s Mr. Boogers.” Eddie huffs and rolls his eyes. “Please don’t ask.”

Still grinning, Steve turns to him. “Well, now you know I gotta.” 

Eddie groans, rubbing a hand across his flustered face, and figures he might as well tell the story now that he’s dug his own grave. “He was, uh… kinda defective from the start, there were some stitches loose around his nose and there was stuffing coming out of it, like… well…”

Steve giggles. “Boogers. Gotcha.” 

“Yeah. Wayne grumbled about it and wanted to ask for a different one, but I was already in love with this one and clung to him and refused to trade. Cos like, you know how plushies of the same type are supposed to be identical but they’re really not ? And one of them has that perfect face and the others just seem off?” 

Eddie blushes, thinking now would be the moment he finally gets ridiculed for being twenty years old and having strong opinions on plushie faces of all things, but Steve just smiles and nods.

“Yeah, I know exactly what you mean. I once spilled some gouache on a Mickey Mouse I owned and instead of washing him, mom just bought me a new one of the same series.” Steve sighs. “It was obvious 'cos his eyes were a little closer together and his smile wasn’t crooked to the left. I knew he wasn’t the same Mickey.” 

Again, Eddie’s heart aches for little Steve, like pretty much any time the boy reveals stories from his childhood in a tone too lighthearted for the words spoken, in Eddie’s opinion. Rich people really don’t value anything, huh. (With Steve being the obvious exception.)

“Yeah, see? You get it!” Eddie exclaims, pointing at Steve and putting more excitement into the words than he feels. Mostly, he just feels relieved and pleasantly surprised at how unexpectedly he and Steve managed to bond over their shared fondness for their childhood toys. “So anyway, Wayne relented and we took this funny guy home, my uncle patched him up, but the nickname stuck. Mr. Boogers. Boogie for short.”

Steve laughs again, but there’s nothing malicious about it as he looks back to the teddy in his lap and flicks his ear.

“Nice to meet you, Boogie,” he says with an affectionate smile that makes Eddie want to burrow his face into the mattress and giggle like an idiot. 

And maybe scream a little, because what the fuck. It should be illegal for your crush to talk cute to your goddamn childhood plushies.  

Whole fic on AO3

[fluffle-writes]

Twst Weirdcore AU Masterlist

General Masterlist Here

Edits

Cater Diamond

Ace Trappola

Deuce Spade

Leona Kingscholar

Ruggie Bucchi

Kalim Al-Asim

Vil Schoenheit

Rook Hunt

Epel Felmier

Idia Shroud

Ortho Shroud

Malleus Draconia

Lilia Vanrogue

Sebek Zigvolt

Dire Crowley

Divus Crewel

Grim

Rollo Flamm

Fellow Honest

Art/Collages

Vil's Overblot

Possum Bus Critter

Videos

Late to Class

Meeting With Vil

Asks

Epel - Are Epel's Apples Edible?

Epel - Apple Shedding + Wing/Branch info

Pomefiore - what are their self care routines like?

Ortho's Face Hole

Is Yuu human in this AU? |★| (+ Extra info I forgot)

Poking Ace's Eye

Do the Weirdcore Guys think the Human is Weird?

Is anyone else edible (Laios moment) + How do they Eat?

Why don't the OBs kill Yuu?

How does their sense of taste work?

Are Yuu's changes permanent or temporary?

More eye goop shenanigans + how do UMs work?

Self Defence, Cannibalism, and Yuu's weirdcore traits

Brief Jamil thoughts + Human Birthday Celebrations

Does Sebek Zap People? |★| Sebek Smooch Flashbang

Weirdcore food - Creepy Baking

Does Heartslabyul ever use cutlery?

Cooking there is odd (+ mandrake incident)

Scream Cheese

How do the different guys blush?

What if the roles were reversed?

Octotrio scarier underwater

Vil Preening Meme

Ace's Eye Goop Comic/meme

Ramshackle Haunted Ecosystem

Design Thoughts

More Elaboration on the Dorm Themes/Symbolism

Design Choice - Skin Textures (+ Kalim info)

Weirdcore Design Difficulties

Malleus Ideas

Lilia Ideas

Octavinelle Ideas |★| More Octavinelle Ideas

Silver Thoughts

Jamil Ideas

Misc. Thoughts

Mickey's Room

Writing

Heartslabyul Eye Goo Flavours (HCs)

What shenanigans does Yuu get up to/event chaos

[em-harlsnow]

mickey would do the trend of texting your S/O something dirty while at a family event

oh I agree.

-> NSFW

it's family movie night, and mickey's bored. he usually likes carl's suggestions, but for some reason he just can't find fucking fast and furious 2 interesting. vin diesel isn't even in it. sure, Paul walker's okay, but he looks like a goody-two-shoes.

no one minds when he starts flipping through his phone.

for once, mickey's on the armchair, not the couch, with Ian on the couch where he has a better view of the TV. while mickey has a great view of Ian.

he scrolls through TikTok, sound down. god, the app is really addictive.

and then he finds the perfect thing to get rid of his boredom.

he flips over to his text chat with Ian.

usually, they don't need to send dirty texts. they're together all the time, why would they?

now seems the best time to start.

he thinks about what to type to get the best reaction, and settles on

m: if we were home rite now, id suck ur dick until I choke

he smirks as he sends it, and has to contain his grin when ian's phone buzzes. mickey watches as Ian sips his beer, eyes half on the movie and only darting quickly to his phone. ian's not very good at keeping his cool, spluttering a little and coughing slightly when he swallows the beer in his mouth. Ian looks up at him, part glare part interest. mickey grins back.

m: wld have to go real deep in my throat to make me choke

m: im sure that won't b a problem 4 u

he types out and sends.

ian's reaction is to scowl at mickey and he can see him typing swiftly.

I: what are you doing

is all he says.

I: nothing, just explainin what imma do wen we get home

mickey responds, trying to look innocent as he does

m: you don't want your dick sucked?

m: i'll just ride u into the couch then

he watches as Ian takes a deep breath

I: you need to stop

Mickey smirks again.

m: don't what that either?

m: u wanna pound me from behind?

m: shoving my head down into the mattress?

ian's leg starts bouncing, and mickey's so sadistically happy.

I: watch the movie

urgh, and ian's still playing hard to get. even though he can see how badly he's effecting him

m: rather watch u

m: love watching ur face when I deep throat

m: such a big fucking cock

m: make it poke out of my cheek so u can see it

Ian bites his lip at that, trying hard to keep composure.

I: ur an asshole

m: u wanna see my asshole?

m: wrapped around ur dick?

and that's enough, apparently, because ian's getting up.

"there's an emergency at work, me and mickey have to go." Ian tells them, grabbing mickey's arm and pulling him from the chair.

"what? a weed delivery emergency?" lip scoffs, disbelieving.

"yup." Ian says in the worst lying voice ever.

Debbie glares at them as they pull on their coats, taking notice of mickey's proud, self-satisfied grin. "you guys better stay for the whole thing next movie night."

"sure thing, debs." Ian smiles, and then pulls mickey out of the door by his elbow.

once they're well and truly out of the house, almost at the car, Ian leans in to whisper in mickey's ear. "you're doing all that shit the second we get home."

fuck yes, toktik clock app is actually good for something.

I don't usually write NSFW, but I hope this met expectations!

-> send me prompts for TikTok trends <3

[whatwouldmickeydo]

I have the mental image of Mick coming in to the Gallagher house one day and then realising that there's a picture of himself doing something or other nestled in among the family photos over the fireplace and then having to go off somewhere to have an emotion.

“Told ya you should have had somethin’ to eat with that coffee this morning!” He yells up the stairs, shaking his head when he hears the bathroom door slam shut.

Ten years in and Ian’s still annoying about remembering to eat something when he takes his meds.

“It’s not a lot of coffee, Mick, I’ll be fine, Mick,” Mickey mimics to himself. “I’m not that hungry, Mick. Yeah and look at you now, shittin’ your brains out.”

He wanders around the living room, poking at random stuff while he waits. The Gallagher house is largely unchanged since Debbie and Carl, and now Sandy, back for good he thinks, had moved in and taken it over. They’d brought in the last of Sandy’s stuff today, Debbie and her taking one more swing around her old place to make sure nothing was forgotten before officially declaring her moved in.

The living room is pretty much the same, couch still shitty as ever, although the tv is much newer and there’s a fresh coat of paint on the walls.

He glances absentmindedly at the pictures staggered around the top of the fireplace mantle, about to go wander into the kitchen when a newer image catches his eye. It’s nestled between a framed photo of Franny as a baby, and a shot of several Gallaghers flipping off the camera at a party somewhere.

It’s a photo of him and Ian, with Ian’s arms wrapped around him from behind. Ian’s got his head up against his ear, smiling and whispering something to him while Mickey’s grinning widely, so big his eyes are almost slits, hands holding onto Ian’s arm. Neither one of them seem to have noticed their picture being taken, or if they did there’s no evidence in their frozen expressions, just ones of pure joy and happiness.

He’s not sure when it was taken, can’t quite place where they are but it looks to be summer and they’re young, maybe 17 or 18. So young.

He stares at it, unsure of the reason why there’s tears threatening to prick at the corners of his eyes while he looks, and he’s not sure whether it’s from being happy or sad. Maybe a bit of both. He gauges it has to have been from when he was living here, or Ian with him, that whole time period a confusing mess if he thinks about it too much.

The door opens behind him and Debbie comes in carrying a cardboard box. She calls a greeting to Mickey but it’s almost like she’s far away, his senses barely able to focus on anything but the picture in front of him. She’s just about to head up the stairs when he comes back to himself a bit and he calls out to her.

“Ey, where’d you get this picture from?”

He gestures in the direction of the mantle, turning to look at her.

She steps off the bottom stair and comes closer, squinting a bit before realizing what she’s looking at and smiles.

“Oh, I found a bunch of disposable cameras when we were cleaning out one of the rooms upstairs. I had them developed to see if there was anything good on them - most of them were blurry shots and Carl doing weird shit but that one was mixed in. I thought it was cute so stuck it in a frame.” She starts heading up the steps but turns down to call, “You guys can take it home if you want, I made a few copies.”

“Yeah, thanks,” he says softly, belatedly, realizing she’s already disappeared up the steps by the time he answers.

He grabs the frame to look at it closer, swallowing hard as he stares at the images of their younger selfs, practically kids.

He’d never had a lot of pictures of himself growing up, mostly baby pictures stashed in boxes and pretty much nothing from his teenage years, save a few out of focus and blurry shots that Mandy may have taken on her small camera, when she was still here.

They have tons of pictures of them now, some framed around their place and others taking up most of the space on their phones, silly selfies and candids, cute shots of them together smiling at the camera.

But this, this feels different. Heavier. But also not. They look happy here, so it must have been a good day, he thinks. Hopes.

He startles at the feel of a hand on his shoulder, relaxing when he realizes it’s Ian, finally finished in the bathroom.

“Hey,” he says quietly, leaning back against his chest.

“Hey. What ya lookin’ at?” Ian asks, sliding his arm around his waist and hooking his chin over Mickey’s shoulder, pressing a quick kiss against his cheek before looking down.

Mickey doesn’t reply, just shakes the frame slightly to direct his attention, his heart rabbit kicking slightly in his chest.

He feels Ian still behind him, the grip on his stomach tightening for a moment before relaxing.

“Wow,” he finally says. “Where did that come from?”

“Debbie,” Mickey murmurs back.

Neither of them say anything for a minute until Ian speaks at last, voice a rumble in his ear.

“You look cute as fuck.”

Mickey laughs, the sound bursting from him suddenly, unexpectedly, and he aims an elbow backwards at his stomach that Ian dodges with a grin.

“Fuck you! I wasn’t fuckin’ cute.”

The statement dislodges something in his stomach though, and he feels like he can breathe a little easier somehow.

They settle back down, both of them lost in their own heads a bit as they continue looking at the picture. Ian wraps his other arm around his waist and holds him, the two of them swaying slightly together in the middle of the living room.

“You wanna take it home?” He asks finally.

He feels Ian nod against his shoulder.

“We can put it up next to our wedding pictures.”

Mickey smiles at that.

“Yeah, that’d be good.”