#Mickey was NEVER insecure about bottoming and he was always adamant about how much he loved it but suddenly it’s an issue

[biblionerd07]

I tried watching some of the Ian/Mickey scenes from season 11 and it made me ill. These are IMPOSTERS. That is not Ian and Mickey!! Especially Mickey!!! Look at how they massacred my boy. But one of the most frustrating parts is that if you watch the deleted scenes it shows that someone in that writers’ room DID know how to write Ian and Mickey but the producers or whoever makes that decision were like “nah, no meaningful conversations that show how much they love and respect each other and are working on their relationship. These fans who’ve been watching the characters struggle for a decade want them to continuously argue and beat the shit out of each other and act like they hate each other!”

#John wells if I ever catch you #there were a very few small spots of goodness and I credit ONLY Noel and cam for that #they were doing their level best #some of the things they had coming out of Mickey’s mouth made me want to drive my head through a wall #in what world am I supposed to believe Mickey was getting blow jobs from other guys #and making a joke out of Ian’s bipolar???? #like the one time they remembered they even wrote Ian as bipolar and it was for a shitty line where Mickey throws it in his face #it feels like every season is a whole new show and not connected at all to the others #and then it starts feeling like every EPISODE is a whole new show that’s not connected #why was there like a goofy soundtrack as Mickey’s literal Nazi abusive rapist father moved in next door #Noel was giving us everything and they made a joke out of it #and then they made a joke out of Mickey being conflicted and crying after terry died?????????? #I want to kill them #Ian saying frank was worse than terry????? girl in what world?????? #Mickey was NEVER insecure about bottoming and he was always adamant about how much he loved it but suddenly it’s an issue #from ‘liking what I like don’t make me a bitch’ back when he could barely LOOK at Ian to…this #also Ian used to be very sweet even when he was being stubborn and self-righteous and even violent #but they really lost his sweetness #and I know it wasn’t just cam growing up bc there were glimpses of it in the way he chose to have Ian move and hold onto Mickey #but the writers seemed hell bent on all of the characters being so horrible to each other #in the early seasons they could sometimes be cruel and selfish even to each other but underneath it all they loved each other #and it feels like when they decided to lean solely into goofy comedy that lost that #it’s just sad to see a show that started so good end so badly #I’ve seen people talking about a spinoff with Ian and Mickey and I don’t even fucking want it with these writers #maybe if cam and Noel were producers and got to choose the storylines #they’re the only ones I trust

[avalindin]

Tales of the Naughty Sugarplums

Tale 4: Krumpus

P.S.: If you haven't seen Filth, know that Bruce is a textbook of piece of shit.

_____

Previous Chapters: Hiddleston | McAvoy | Adam

Scotland.

Your first trip abroad and first holiday away from the family. It was lonely but the company of the police station was plenty cheerful. It was fine but you don’t even know how you got there.

Fine, you knew.

Your cousin was under the weather and rather than spending the night alone with her, she heavily insisted that you go to her workplace’s party and sure, at first you were weary. You were going to a strange party in a strange place in a strange town but Edinburgh was quaint and you knew how to take care of yourself.

You arrive safely at the station and are welcomed with open arms. You converse with the local authoritative people and their family members and enjoy yourself. The music never stopped and you could say that you were filled with pure holiday spirits.

“Hi there. That Gran’s sweater is working for you.”

You turn your head and smell the bitter stench of a bad night on someone’s breath.

“The fuck? Who are you supposed to be?”

You cover your mouth and take a step back. You aren’t sure whether to laugh or be disgusted with the man that staggered his way next to you. He straightens himself out and smiles. His smile makes you pull the lapels of your sweater closer together.

“Bruce Robertson, DI. Again. You’re Mickey’s cousin. The dyke from down under.”

“I’m American.”

“My mistake. I thought all dykes spoke Austrailian.”

“Yeah and you smell like you came from Pittsburgh. You look like it.”

“What?”

Bruce lifts his arms to look down to his messy and disheveled ensemble. What neither he or you don’t see is his drink that sloshes on the front of your dress. The dress didn’t exactly mean that much to you but the stink of the whisky and the shocked faces of the guests nearly made you lose your cool.

“Oh, shit! I am so sorry.”

You turn from the party and barricade yourself in the small restroom you found downstairs. In the small time you’ve been on vacation, it was the first time you wanted to go home. You hold back your tears and do what you can to wipe off the whisky.

The door thunders open behind you, scaring the life from you as you meet Bruce’s eyes.

“Look, I am so sorr… Shit, woman. You’ve been hiding an Ashley Graham under that monstrous sweater?”

You were always a big enough girl and were happy with what you had but in that moment, you felt riddled with insecurity. You turn with anger in your eyes.

“Why are you such a fucking prick?”

“Hey,” he shouts as he tries to shield himself from you, “if it’s a fucking prick you want, all you had to do was ask!”

Your palm grabs your shoe and hit him harder as he backs away from the restroom.

“I’ve only been here a few days and I can see why no one fucking likes you!”

You storm from the basement and out the front door, fixing your shoe as you make your way home through the falling snow. You are so mad that you not only realize that you left your sweater at the police station and that you were hopelessly lost in your anger.

You force yourself to remember where you are and try to carry on with a group of drunken men whistling at you.

“Hey Darling!”

You look over your shoulder as one of the men starts almost starts into a jog towards you. This was going to be their mistake until a police car skids safely between you and the group of men. The moment is ruined as Bruce stumbles from the car with his badge upside down in hand.

“Alright, you fuckers. Get lost before I tie you up to my bumper by your pricks and go for a fucking joyride.”

They back away slowly and flick him off as he does the same to them.

“Go back to your mums’ tits, fucking wankers. Here.”

He throws your sweater into your face without looking in your direction. You only stand confused.

“Don’t make me repeat myself. Let’s go.”

“You’re drunk. I’m not getting in a car with you.”

“We all drive better piss drunk now get in the fucking car. Mickey will worry if she hears about this.”

You pull on your sweater and get into the back of the car. Bruce huffs his breath a single time and sends the car wheels spinning. True to his word and his hiccups, he drives well enough that would impress your mother until he jerks the car to a stop in front of your cousin’s home.

“Thanks, officer,” you mumble as you leave Bruce in the car.

“Yes, you’re welcome. See what happens when manners matter.”

“Go away.”

“The streets are too dangerous at night. I’m staying until you are inside and safe.”

“It’s creepy.”

“It’s the gentleman thing to do.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry.”

“Holy shit. Was that an actual apology?”

You wait on the top step for your cousin to answer but as time and the cold get to you.

“She has a key in the back. Have a good night.”

You hurry to the back with Bruce behind you. You look for the key with his help.

“Look, ah fuck. I’m sorry for how I acted towards you. I’ll recently been reminded how being unkindly isn’t the best way to go about life.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve had the same talk. It is fun when it is.”

“Found it.”

Bruce raises from the base of the stairs with the key in hand. He takes a single step and slips on a small patch of ice. He falls forward. You catch him before he falls face first on the stone steps. When he finds his footing, you feel his eyes burn into you.

“Thank you. You’re strong for a woman of your size.”

“Thank you? I have my moments.”

“I’m sure you do.”

You feel the tension as thick as the ice he just slipped on. You’ve heard so many stories about him to make your skin crawl but you didn’t seem to care in that moment. You hand drifts to the front of his pants and squeezes the life from him.

A groan falls from his throat that plasters a devious smile to your face.

“Fuck, woman...”

“Yeah, that is still fun.”

Just as you are about to let him go, his hand covers yours and you can feel his hard cock grinding against your hand. This was going to be fun as long as your were careful. There were some stories that weren’t as pretty as him.

You pull your hand away and watch Bruce contain himself beautifully.

“Are you trying to give me a fucking heart attack, woman?!”

His face was as red as his eyes as they burned into you. That how you liked them. You pulled your hand from your pocket and Bruce sees the condom between your fingers. You flick it at his chest.

“It’s a season of giving and I can’t give you what you already had.”

You pull the top of your dress apart and lift the hem to show him what you are willing to offer.

“Fuck...”

“Tell me what you want for Christmas, Bruce.”

He doesn’t. He only shreds the foil and rolls the condom on in one flick of his wrist. You stay still as he stops and glares to you. You take a step back and wait until it become painful. The moment was exciting while it lasted. Your eyes roll.

“Fine. I’ll just go inside and fuck myself.”

Before you can turn, Bruce lifts you from your feet and has your legs separated over the sides of the freezing metal railings. You hold onto his arms as he hunches under you and fills you with one try. He chuckles when he hears the faintest whimper from you.

“Shit,” he grunts as he slowly has his way with you, “you’re not so tough once you got a good cocking in you.”

His teeth nip at your skin, sucking wildly as his mouth moves lower. You push yourself up from the back door to ease the rough sounds of the creaking wood. Your cousin was a heavy enough sleeper and you didn’t want to find you as you were now.

“Do you ever stop talking,” you pant.

“Honestly, I’d rather hear that beautiful voice screaming my name.

He pulls out of you and pulls your from the railing. He shoved you face first into the door and kicks your feet apart.

“Do us a favor and stick out that lovely arse for me.”

You can hear his hand as he works it up and down his cock. You look over your shoulder to the wickedness in his eyes. His hand slaps at you to make you jump.

“I said put your arse out before I tear this perfection to shreds,” he slowly hisses into your ear.

You brace the door and bend over slightly. His hand is slow, lifting the dress up and over the curve of your bottom. He hums in approval. His fingers play with the edge of your panties until he starts to teasingly stroke you.

“You should not be ashamed, woman. The bigger the berry, the tastier the juice. Stick it out more for me.”

You back your feet further and feel the cold sting your legs. He kneels behind you, toying with your lips as he kisses the back of your thigh.

“Fuck.”

You gasp as he spreads you further and presses his tongue to your panties. Your hips rock back for more friction. He chuckles.

“If you wanted more,” he whispered as his finger hooked to the bottom of your panties, “all you had to do was ask and good ole Krumpus would have answered.”

His tongue fills you, slowly tastign and flicking away at you as you claw into the door. His hands hold you steady and wandering your body as you still rock back. Clouds of steam rise from between your legs from Bruce’s mouth as he nibbles on you. You fall against the door. The cold isn’t bothering you anymore. The snowy wind whips your hair and you hld out for as long as you can.

“Please,” you force as you finally give in.

Bruce pulls himself away as you see him lick his lips. He collects what is left on his and sucks it slowly from his finger.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“Please.”

“I fucking heard that. You’ll tell me what you want or I’ll have to make you suffer, Darling.”

He waits, tracing his finger to your wet sex. You whine as his finger pushes into you, slowly fucking you as you turn your face into your arm.

“Just say the word, woman, and I will fuck you until you are breathless. I’ll even put you back in your place if you want...”

His finger goes faster, adding a second as he makes sure you feel every inch of his fingers.

“Tell me what you need.”

“Don’t stop...”

“Is that all,” he whispers into your hair, “I got a wrapped package right here and waiting for a good girl to open but she won’t even admit that she wants it for herself, like the greedy cunt rocking on the end of my dripping fingertips.”

Faster and faster, his fingers make you melt. You can only imagine how you look, half naked and stuck on a stranger’s fingers. You open your eyes to the fucking dirty smirk on Bruce’s face. You know he’s only getting harder from making you squirm.

“Fuck me.”

“What was that?”

If it wasn’t midnight, someone would have heard him from the other houses and saw the indecency as fingers fucked you so quickly that his palm was slapping against your wet cunt.

“Fuck me, Officer. Please just fuck me.”

He pulls his hand away and holds your hips out.

“Merry fucking Christmas.”

He pistons his hips back into you, taking the breath away from what you sure would have been a scream of pure bliss. You push both palms up to the door, countering in rhythm to meet his thrusts as he slams into you. His hand pulls you up by your throat so that your moans are no longer hidden. Once he’s satisfied, the hand moves down to the front of your dress as his cold hand gropes the life from your full breasts.

“Let’s see if you truly deserve your gift.”

He gives your nipple a quick pinch as your whole body jolts. He grunts as you tight around him from the pinch.

“Oh, I’m gonna get every bit of juice out of you.”

His fingers, his cock doesn’t stop as he fucks you wildly than you could have dreamed. There was a few strong strikes of his hand to your bottom. There was his teeth that dug into your neck as the growls themselves made you want to come around him but there was still something you wanted.

One of your hands reaches behind you and grabs Bruce by the back of his neck to pull him forward. He is already ahead of you as his lips press to yours. His wicked tongue passes your lips and tangles with yours.

You are nearly gone as his fingers wrap around your leg and lifts it to the railing to hold you completely open. His fingers toy painfully with your clit and you can no longer hold yourself together. You head spins as you come around him. Bruce holds you up and open, grunting like an animal as he fucks you faster through your orgasm.

You hold the both of you up as he shudders into your ear. Bruce takes low and frighteningly even breaths. His fingers dug carefully into your flesh as you are both still.

Bruce is the first to move. He helps your leg down, waiting to move until you are steady on your own two feet. Then he pulls out of you and kisses your skin before sluggishly fixing your clothes. He pulls you from the door and embraces you.

“Thank you,” he whispers as he steps back to fix himself, “I really did need this.”

You stop his hand and do it for him as you feel him get harder in your hand.

“You evil wench, I didn’t need that.”

“Think of it as a present to use for later. You may just miss me.”

“Yeah,” he smiles as he smells the long fingers he was fucking you with, “I may just.”

He grabs the back of your neck and pulls you towards him. His tongue doesn’t try to tease you and his hands stay glued to your side to hold you perfectly still. The kiss is so simple that you don’t want it to end but he pulls the key from his pocket and presses it in your hand.

“Merry Christmas, you fucking tease.”

“Bye Santa,” you giggle.

“Krumpus,” he laughs as he backs down the stairs.

“What?”

“Krumpus. He steals the bad children and beats the sacks they’re in with rods.”

“Huh.”

Before he disappears around the side of the house, his hand reaches through the railing and strokes enough up your leg to make you want him.

“If I had my way, I’d use that rod on that arse to make you beg me to take you.”

“All you have to do is ask. It’s not waiting for anybody.”

He smile widens as he pulls his hand away.

“You are some fucking trouble. I’m gonna keep in touch through Mickey.”

“I’ll be waiting. Hopefully you get to America before I chose to sit on another cock.”

He rubs himself so that you can see.

“Keep telling yourself that and good luck with replacing your fingers with mine. Merry Christmas!”

He disappears down the alley as he goes back to his car.

“Fucking prick,” you moan as you feel a bit of wetness down the inside of your legs.

You use the key and shut yourself away into the lonely, warm house and force yourself not to go out the front door after him.

#Filth #bruce robertson #james mcavoy #smut #feels #fanfic