#ian gallagher fanfiction

[ink-n-shadow]

ian and mickey - morning after their anniversary night? something sweet with ian being happy mickey organized something for him

Morning After | Gallavich

pairing: Ian Gallagher x Mickey Milkovich

genre: mainly fluff (brief mentions of sex?)

warnings: slight mention of sexual themes but nothing explicit (unless you count some sappy love scene as a warning, then you've been warned)

word count: 456 (not proofread) 

note: i finally got to this </3 so sorry it too forever－but pls send more >:)

"Thought you forgot－you know, 'bout yesterday?"

'Course Ian did. Mickey knew that. Why else was he so bitchy during their entire work shift yesterday? Mickey was just waiting for him to admit it.

The two of them were coiled together on the brand new memory foam mattress that Ian had bought, a mattress which was haphazardly strewn onto the floor with creme-colored silk sheets stretched over the corners. By the streams of orange lighting pooling across their bare skin, it had to be the morning of March 22nd－the morning after their 3rd wedding anniversary.

It had been Mickey's plan to go all out on the wedding anniversary this time－the first wedding anniversary being spent at the Alibi and the second spent working overnight together on a security gig until 3 in the morning. This time－after they got off of their shift, of course－their anniversary involved some fancy restaurant that Ian had been eyeing ever since the couple moved into their new apartment, a bottle of (cheap) red wine, and breaking in the memory foam mattress with however many rounds of sex they had went through－Mickey had lost count.

Mickey hummed, using the arm that wasn't currently tucked under own his head to weave through Ian's hair. Ivory skin parted through red waves, the letters of Mickey's tattoos peeking out amongst fiery strands of hair. "Have I ever fucking forgot about our anniversary, Mr. Milkovich?"

When Ian failed to respond－instead just continuing to lazily trace patterns into Mickey's hipbone－Mickey huffed out a soft chuckle and a barely audible 'that's what I thought.'

It was quiet for a while after that, filled with stolen kisses and hands wandering across expanses of naked skin. Ian tore his lips from Mickey's long enough to nuzzle his forehead into his lover's cheek, eyes fluttering close. "You didn't have to do all that, y'know? That dinner date alone had to be－what, a hundred bucks?"

Mickey's scoff echoed throughout the still barren bedroom, his hand disappearing beneath Ian's chin to force him to lock eyes. "Shut up, alright?" His fingertips mapped their way back up Ian's cheekbones, ghosting down the slope of his nose before finding their way back to his chin. "I worked some overtime so I could afford it for you. 'Was just an extra weekend shift I took while you watched Franny for Deb."

It was Ian's turn to hum softly in response, eyes fluttering closed once again as Mickey's fingertips tickled along his skin. "M’lucky to have you, Mr. Gallagher. Y’know that?"

A smile stretched across Mickey's lips as Ian nuzzled further into his open palm. He couldn't help but cup the red head's face in the palms of his hands. "Uh huh, whatever. C'mere and kiss me some more, Red."

[sisitrip]

Future Whispers

My little crispy soul is trying to knit itself back together. I'm choosing to do that with an early Gallavich stolen moment.

_________________________

Ian smiled in the dark as Mickey swatted his hand away from the bathroom lightswitch. 

“That’s not like you,” he murmured. “You usually want to see everything.”

A warm press of air was the only warning he got before Mickey kissed him, soft and deliberate. Astounded, he stilled, afraid to breathe. It was still so new, this kissing, and like new things, it was precious. 

“Easy,” Mickey whispered when he finally remembered to breathe. “There’s no part of you that I don’t want to see when we’re doing that.” Mickey gave him another soft, astonishing kiss. “But, right now, I’m after less, especially with your family down there doing the most.” 

A high pitched squeal rang out from downstairs, punctuating Mickey’s point. 

He laughed, letting Mickey drag him to the toilet and push him to sit on its closed lid. Before he could blindly reach out for Mickey, his lap filled with his warm, heaven scented weight. 

“So, what’s “less” to Mickey Milkovich? I didn’t think you knew how to do less,” he whispered around another kiss, sliding his hands up and down Mickey’s thighs. Emboldened by the dark, he rounded his hands to Mickey’s ass and got a nip to his bottom lip for his roaming.

“I don’t do less. But, I’m settling for this until everybody knocks out,” Mickey whispered back, slipping a bit of tongue between his lips.  

He nearly lost track of the conversation as their kisses grew longer, more heated. 

“I’ll try not to take your ‘settling’ personally,” he breathed.

“Relax, it’s not like that. I'm just trying this mouth-pressing thing again.”

“Mouth-pressing?” he laughed against Mickey’s lips. “God, you’re so romantic.”

“That's what it is, ain’t it? Just two sets of lips pressing together in a sloppy way.” Mickey pulled his lower lip into his mouth and gave it an exquisite nip. “Be glad I didn’t call it tongue stacking.” 

“If you don’t stop describing it so beautifully, I think I'm going to cry,” he said, chasing after Mickey’s tongue with his own.

Mickey chuckled and leaned back. 

“I’m just calling it like I see it. Anyway, I’m still deciding if I hate this whole mouth-pressing thing. No wait. Yeah. I hate it.” Mickey immediately dove in for another tongue-filled kiss.

“Oh, that much is clear.” He pulled Mickey closer, hardening beneath him. “You definitely despise kissing.”

“Absolutely disgusts me,” Mickey said, tilting his head so he could kiss at a better angle.

He smiled into the next kiss.

“Then we should just end this horrible kissing and do something else.” He tried to pull Mickey’s shirt out of his pants. “I've been thinking all night how much I want to feel you come on my stomach while you ride me.”

Mickey stopped his roaming hands and buried his hot face in his neck. Despite the sheer number of times he’s been inside Mickey, the little mouth-pressing hater was still shy about dirty talk. He didn’t have ‘bashful thug’ on his dating Bingo card, but he was here for it.

“Gallagher, if people knew that Disney looking mouth of yours was all Pornhub, your stock would tank.” 

He lifted Mickey’s head by the chin and kissed him. 

“I’m devastated. I thought my mouth was your favorite thing about me,” he murmured, stealing tiny kisses. 

“Tied for first. If you ask me what it’s tied with, I’m braining you.”

They kissed languidly for a bit, heat banking just enough to kick his thoughts toward things beyond kissing. Future related things he’s been wanting from Mickey for a while now. His mouth, clearly not occupied enough, decided to start trouble. 

“What are you going to do when I’m like, 60 years old and my mouth-pressing game isn’t as strong?” he asked, going for Mickey’s chin with a kiss and landing on his nose.

There’s a beat of quiet. He expected Mickey to change the subject, like he did with all future talk. But, instead, he got no such brush off, as miraculous as that was. 

“I mean, your mouth-pressing game ain’t that strong now.”

He snorted. 

“But, if you’re asking for 60 year old Ian,” Mickey teased, kissing his cheek. “I think I might tolerate a lower level of mouth-pressing. But, let the record reflect that everything else has to stay above board.”

“Yeah? Everything else like what?” he asked, heart thudding a little at Mickey envisioning the future with him. 

“That arms and legs wrapping thing we do before sleep.”

“Cuddling?” 

“Yeah. That shit better not slack off.”

He beamed in the dark. “Noted. What else?” 

“Hugs from behind. They remain fully operational or I’m out.”

He huffed a soft laugh. 

“Of course. Anything else?”

Mickey’s quiet for a long time, stroking his hands up and down his chest. 

“You being the first thing I see when I wake up,” Mickey whispered. “And the last thing I see before I go to sleep.”

He said nothing, but his eyes got entirely too hot. Like a bat using echolocation, Mickey knew he was teetering on tears, even in the dark. 

“Keep it together, Gallagher.”

His emotional laugh confirmed Mickey’s suspicions and he was rewarded with a kiss to his forehead. 

“Is that-” He stopped and cleared his throat. “Is that all?”

“No.” 

“What then?” 

Mickey scooted until they were belly to belly and hugged him tight, like he needed support. When he spoke, his voice was vulnerable and rough with emotion. 

“Keep being happy to see me. Keep … keep wanting me to be around.” 

He wrapped Mickey up, heart splintering. It wasn’t Mickey’s soft plea that broke him. It’s the idea that one day he’s going to stop wanting him close, as if that was remotely possible. He’d tried keeping his distance and it had been like watching color violently drain out of the world. 

“That’ll never slack off, you hear me?” He squeezed Mickey tighter, meaning it to his marrow. “Never.”

Mickey didn’t say anything. He only pressed closer. 

He held Mickey in the dark for a while, listening to his family’s ruckus downstairs. Unbidden, the thought of being a husband, Mickey’s husband, bloomed into his mind for the first time. He smiled into Mickey's shoulder, frightened and excited by the thought. Husband.

Mickey pressed a sweet kiss into his neck and hugged him tighter, clearly thinking about some things himself. He decided to let them both off the hook. For now.

“So, my fingers must be tied for first with my tongue-stacking, right?” he asked, bouncing Mickey a little on his lap. 

Mickey snorted. “First off, it’s mouth-pressing. Second, your fingers are okay, but not first place material.” 

“My legs then.” 

“Those chicken sticks? Hell no.” 

He started giggling. 

“My eyes. You’re always saying how green and alien looking they are. You like that weird shit.” 

Mickey pulled back. “I do, but they’re second place. You know, I could just tell you instead of you guessing, Ian.” 

“If you say anything but my dick, I’m tossing you in the bathtub.” 

Mickey held his face in his hands. 

“How could it be anything but that? Your beef bus is insane.” 

He broke down laughing, pulling Mickey into another kiss. 

“My mouth-pressing and beef bus thank you for the compliment.” He grabbed Mickey’s belt. “You feel like taking that bus for a ride?” 

Mickey groaned and gave his cheek a tap. 

“I don’t know how you live being that corny. And the answer is no. I ain’t skeeting with your little brothers and sister downstairs.” 

“How about some more mouth-pressing instead? Just to make sure you really hate it.” 

Mickey sighed. “Alright, get that Disney mouth ready. Maybe by the time you’re 60, you’ll be better at this whole mouth-pressing nonsense.” 

That earned Mickey some tickling and his whispered giggles made the dark bathroom magical. He liked Mickey whispering about their future. He liked that Mickey thought about it at all. If they somehow manage to make it, he’ll remember this as the place where their lives started to take root and shape. 

On a bevy of future whispers in the dark.

[monostardust]

Please someone anyone give me a Mickey Milkovich fanfic where people actually know he's hot as fuck. I need that boy's beauty appreciated and simped on I can't take anymore fics where everyone just thinks he's a good for nothing thug and they don't see what Ian sees in him. I need my boy appreciated please fanfic writers grant my wish!!!

[hadesrise]

heart of gold, heart of cold.

summary ➳ you’re much more than just the nicest boy in southside chicago

pairings ➳ ian gallagher x male reader x mickey milkovich

warnings ➳ fluff, foul language, violence, soft boy!reader, homophobia, established polyamorous relationship, absolute badassery lol, mentions of sex, a little apathy, small mention of blood, good but actually not trope, some mental issues

author’s note ➳ haven’t watched shameless, only gallavich scenes and few other moments. my anger issues can’t handle watching all of that. which is why none of my writing of them’s gonna be accurate to the timeline of the series.

Ian and Mickey couldn’t remember the time you were ever mean to anyone even before meeting you, had never even heard of your name being thrown around without it being extremely positive. Everyone had to say everything about you, which is understandable, considering you were definitely the odd type to be in southside Chicago — this place was full of shit with robbery being nonchalantly committed, guns shooting off in different areas, bunch of unconvicted pedophiles walking around, and teenagers high on whatever fucking heavy drugs they first could touch, while you’re out there, helping whoever you think might need help and genuinely being nice to even the worst fucking thugs you would ever meet.

It’s questionable, how someone could be in southside and grow up perfectly sane and not bottled up with any issues or anger.

You’ve always been the talk around the neighborhood, how the (L/n) kid helped some randos again, how you talked to them with the nicest personality and utmost respect, how you smile at anyone who passes by whenever you make eye contact with them, how you were calm in dealing with a situation most people would get frustrated at; just about anything positive. It wasn’t difficult for both Ian and Mickey to fall for you as much as they fell for each other. You were like a single flower blooming in the middle of a garden that a person would come back to just to see your beauty; something about your softness and kind personality struck a core into both of their hearts.

They never had someone like you in their life. A calm, soothing, comforting presence, like the warm sun in the morning. An accepting, welcoming presence, like the mother earth. You’ve always been gentle with them — not something they’re used to, considering the type of household they grew up in — always checking in, making sure they’re okay even if they push you away, taking care of them.

You’re one of the first person Ian came out to other than his family, because he knew you’d never judge. Mickey was rather an asshole in your first meet, nearly beating you up, but the way you didn’t snark or your nice demeanor didn’t change no matter what insults he threw at you made him hesitant, which never happened with Milkovich’s.

When they started sleeping together, you caught on it quickly before anyone else ever did and kept it a secret the entire time, knowing the personal problems they had to deal with; Ian and Mickey only found out you knew when you stopped Terry from making Mickey have sex with Svetlana by just walking in on the interaction. The near innocence in your eyes as you tilted your head slightly to the side, just staring at Terry until he grew uncomfortable and rushed off. He could never stand being near to you, especially with how holier than thou you were. It wasn’t actually an accident to walk in, but they don’t know that.

Despite the awkward circumstances, you were calm and paid Svetlana a good amount before getting both of them dressed and taking care of them, even though they didn’t have to be taken cared of. Your gentleness with them that time really caused something to burst within their chest, the same feeling they were starting to develop towards each other. The acceptance, the comfort, the gentleness. Everything about you felt magical — you felt magical.

Even after Ian and Mickey figured out their shit together, officially came out, figured out their shit together again that both of them liked you, flirted with you and won you over, and officially came out again to their family as polyamorous couple, they had never seen you be a dick. Sure, you swore a lot sometimes when you drop something or miss something, but never towards anyone. They never saw you doing the typical southside thing, being rebellious, smoking cigarettes, drinking alcohol, doing drugs or shit.

You’re always nice — and it’s supposed to be a good thing, but it also gets a lot concerning, especially when some dumb fucking guy punched you in the face for mistaking you as someone who slept with his girlfriend and you had the audacity to forgive him when he apologized, making Mickey nearly wanting to strangle you right then and there.

“Why the fuck did you forgive him?” Mickey snarls and shuts the fridge door close, ice pack in hand as he throws it to Ian, who immediately began pressing it to your cheek that was beginning to form a bruise.

You shrugged, “He just mistook me for someone else.”

“Yeah, and fucking punched you in the face without asking first who the fuck you are.” Mickey retorted, giving you a death glare. He moves around to stand beside you on the opposite side of Ian.

You were sitting on the counter facing the dining table where Fiona, Lip, Liam, Carl, Debbie, Sandy, Mandy, and Franny were, all contorting worried look since you’re the nicest and you having a single bruise means when the people you helped before sees it they’re gonna flip over and bury the guy ten feet under while still breathing. Everyone knew you, and you’re literally the holiest within southside, so they naturally hated when someone messed with you.

Your hand shoots up to rub his arm gently, warm look in your eyes as your soft voice speaks to comfort him. “Calm down, Mick. Let it go, I’m fine.” You smile softly, “It was just a little mistake. Everyone makes mistakes.”

Mickey frowns, still angry yet definitely calm now that you’re giving him comfort. “You’re too fucking nice, it’s making me sick.”

You chuckled, grabbing the ice pack from Ian to press it on your cheek yourself. You pull Ian to kiss him on the cheek before doing the same to Mickey, knowing it will help tone down their anger. “At least I have my own guard dogs.” You joke, earning a snicker from the group.

“Haha, very funny.” Mickey sarcastically replies.

Ian sighs, “(Y/n), I think Mickey’s right though. You’re too nice, maybe a bit much. Even to Frank and Terry.” He agreed with his other boyfriend, who puts his hands up in a gesture of i told you so.

You tilted your head, still smiling. “Frank’s your father and Terry’s Mickey’s father. No matter how horrible they are, I don’t think I could treat them any differently from how I treat others.” Shrugging, you ignored both of your boyfriends’ groan and sipped on the orange juice resting on your side.

“What’s up with you treating everyone equally and being unnaturally nice to even someone who doesn’t deserve it?” Fiona asked, genuinely confused with her brows furrowed together and crease forming on her forehead. “You were even nice with Monica.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, thinking for a while.

You could tell them what was really going on, but it would be too much to dump it on them all of a sudden. Being nice and having a lot of patience is a lot difficult, but you learned to, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to survive. It’s a survival skill that you had to adapt to; be nice and you get everything you want. A little... useful tactic that you taught yourself, though it’s more than that.

Deciding against telling them, because it’ll get out when it gets out, you simply gave her a tight-lipped smile and shrugged. “I like spreading dumb kindness. I think it helps people who deals with mental health issues that their relatives probably don’t even know. I might’ve been nice to them and turned their bad day into good day. Small things like that has an impact, you know.”

Mickey scowled, “That makes no sense.”

You simply smiled and patted his cheek, turning to Ian who placed his hand on your waist. “I still think you should’ve done something, (Y/n). Press charges or something.” He said, wanting to convince you.

Shaking your head with a reassuring smile, you kissed his lips and Mickey’s, successfully shutting both of them up as you hopped off of the counter. “I’m going to change. Take me out on a date, will you two?” You let your hands linger on each of their arm before walking away with an angelic smile, leaving the boys staring after you in slight awe.

“Oh my god, you two are so fucking smitten with him.” Sandy remarked, laughing. The others nodded in agreement, deeply amused.

Ian and Mickey rolled their eyes, “The fuck we’re not.” Mickey denies, though failing to convince them and himself.

“But you are,” Lip shrugged. “He’s got you wrapped all around his finger.”

“Kinda cute if you ask me,” Fiona chuckles.

“Oh, fuck off.” Ian retorts, a smile across his face.

Neither would admit it, but they really were. Equally smitten with one another, your relationship had always been wholesome, except for the times all three of you were friends with benefits.

Ian and Mickey slept together first obviously, only started hooking up with you after the incident with Terry. Mickey was first to do it when he went to your house to spend time with you since you’re the only person he could trust aside from Ian, the casual conversation taking a turn after he had asked if you would fuck him if you were gay, which you told him you were, causing Mickey to literally demand a fuck from you.

“Hey, man?” Mickey slowly called to you who was sitting on the opposite side of the ridiculously big couch, eyes focused on the movie with a can of coke in your hand.

“Hm?” You hum, turning to look at him despite being completely indulged in the movie plot. Mickey liked that, how you’re willing to give him your full attention even though you’re busy and don’t even have to look at him at all.

He glances down, picking with his hand, slightly nervous. But he knew you wouldn’t judge, you never did. It was unlikely of him to feel this way, but Mickey couldn’t help it. Nearly unbearable to talk to someone as nice and caring as you yet can’t bring himself to stay away.

“Would you—would you fuck me if you were, you know, fucking gay?”

Your brows raised at the random question. Though it wasn’t difficult to realize it’s because of the previous gay scene in the movie you’re watching where the main characters made love to each other without it being censored and shit. “Well,” You started with a small smile adorning your face, “I don’t know if you knew but I’m actually gay, Milkovich.”

Mickey’s head snapped to your side, eyes wide. “Wait, what? Why the fuck didn’t you tell me? Or Ian?”

“You didn’t ask,” You simply shrugged. “I normally don’t go around announcing to everybody what my sexuality is. Kind of weird if I did that,” You joked, earning a glare from the Milkovich. “But honestly, I didn’t think it was something I had to tell you or Ian. I just let people guess or notice it on their own.”

“How the fuck do they even notice?" Mickey remarks, furrowing his brows. “I’ve literally never seen you with any guys or girls. Have you even hooked up with somebody?”

You chuckled, “Nope. Wasn’t really interested.”

“Damn,” Mickey gave you a weird look. It was so odd to see someone in southside not doing drugs or shit, let alone sleeping around with whoever they liked. He wasn’t used to it. Now, you feel like a fucking holy being or something. But then, Mickey realizes you never actually answered his question, so he repeated again. “You didn’t answer my fucking question, would you fuck me?”

You’re gay, so might as well shoot his shot. Can’t really miss this opportunity.

You stare at him, something glinting in your eyes that definitely wasn’t innocence. Your lips slowly formed a sly grin as you tilted your head. “What if I said yes? What are you gonna do?”

A smile appeared on Mickey’s lips, “Then fucking get on with it, (L/n).”

Conveniently, you were a switch so Mickey didn’t have to pretend he didn’t like having dick in his ass. He told Ian he slept with you that came off as surprise since apparently Ian also didn’t know you were gay, which led to Ian sleeping with you as well.

“You’re so weird,” Ian laughed when he caught you stacking some nuggets together to build a makeshift tower, having woken up from a friendly sleepover at your house.

You grinned and stacked the last piece of nugget, looking at Ian as you gestured to your work of art. “Tadaaaa!” It caused him to burst out laughing, sitting down beside you on the couch.

“What are you doing?” Ian asked between laughter.

You shrugged your shoulders, “I was bored and you weren’t waking up anytime soon. Figured I’d kill my time.” Smiling, you offered him a can of beer that was sitting on the table, having just taken out from the fridge. Ian accepted, thanking you. “How did you sleep?”

Ian smiled after taking a gulp from the beer and placed it down on the table, “Great, actually. Like the times I haven’t been able to sleep isn’t real.” Relief was evident on his face, considering how big the bags under his eyes were. He never mentioned that you were the reason of him being unable to fall asleep, always thinking of you ever since that horrible day that suddenly turned great with your presence. Hearing about you sleeping with Mickey made him decide nothing will happen if he just thinks around, thus the sleepover.

A soft look crosses your face as you begin to play with his hair, touch displaying gentleness Ian had never felt before. His eyes met yours, such a warm gaze making him feel loved even without doing anything. “Well, I’m glad the cuddle worked, Gallagher. You can always come to me when you can’t sleep, I’ll hold you until you can.” Voice merely above a whisper, you gently told him.

Ian was feeling breathless. Everything about your welcoming and accepting nature deemed temptation; his pupils dilating, throat suddenly dry as if he’s been dehydrated, stomach growling as if hasn’t eaten in days, feeling your soft hand brush through his ginger hair as you stared at him innocently yet almost seducing. The tension was too thick to be cut with a knife. And with the growing urge to just give in to the temptation, Ian leaned forward without a second thought, capturing your lips in a kiss.

You made a noise of surprise that immediately caused Ian to pull away, a panicked look in his eyes, scared he might’ve ruined the most precious friendship he’s ever had. Series of apology slipped past his lips, but you shut him up by putting a finger up to his lips.

“Don’t apologize, I’m not mad, silly.” You reassured, though concern plastered your face. “Are you sure you want this?”

“Yeah,” His response was nearly quick. “Why do you think I agreed to a sleepover?”

That angelic smile of yours returned again, chuckling. “Okay then, Gallagher. Do whatever you want.” You said before kissing him again, letting the rest of the day continue.

Again, it was convenient that you’re a switch, because even though Ian has tried bottoming before, he preferred topping, especially with you or Mickey. Well, you and Mickey now. Those sleeping around days were a lot... wild, to say the least.

You never slept with anyone besides Ian and Mickey, always uninterested in other guys and turning them down nicely quite often, which Mandy — your bestfriend — noticed.

Questionable, of course, because there was one incident at the Alibi where she, Lip, and Fiona were present and you and Ian came out the bathroom covered in hickeys, not even bothering to hide them as the two of you sat down with them. However, when a guy noticed and realized what happened, they attempted to shoot their shot with you, miserably failing as you turned it down without further acknowledgement while Ian just shrugged, as if he already knew that was going to be your answer. Then, Mickey suddenly barged in only to tell you a short “not tired yet, are ya?” while walking to the bathroom, and you smiled at Ian before following Mickey.

It happened quite a lot in different circumstances that even the Gallaghers caught up on how Ian and Mickey are the only ones you let getting in your pants.

It was a messy and complicated time where everyone had to deal with their own shit; Mickey with his homophobic upbringing and sexual crisis, Ian with his confusion in feeling something for both you and Mickey at the same time and doubts to himself, you with accepting your romantic attraction to both of them, keeping it locked in, and fulfilling the desire to be with them by sleeping with them. It’s either they slept with each other, you slept with either of them, or the three of you slept together, all bonded somehow. Ian and Mickey were the first ones to get their shit together and officially became partners, and well... it honestly didn’t turn out good back then due to you still dealing with your own shit that nobody ever noticed. That story could be for another day, though.

The point is, your friendship used to be wholesome, but the extent of it increased more when you three settled after all that shitshow. There were some toxicity at first, especially with Mickey struggling to overcome the genuinely awful upbringing he had — he was dating a guy after all, and not just one but two — along with Ian’s diagnosis of bipolar disorder. But having each other and not giving up on each other made the toxicity disappear and morph into something positive, each of you going through some relationship development together.

Compared to back then, the three of you had grown overly comfortable with each other and the polyamorous relationship you had, not feeling discomfort when people look at you weirdly. Coming to terms with the issues truly helped.

However, neither Ian nor Mickey had come to terms with your kindness towards people who didn’t deserve it, and they absolutely have no plans of coming to terms with it at all. People can be a lot rude and asshole when you’re nice to them, which is why they simultaneously keep themselves and each other from strangling the person’s neck everytime it treated or spoke to you horribly.

Well, frankly, nobody would understand and you don’t expect them to. Too bad they’re going to have to sooner than later, because you’ve been feeling a little irritable — it’s only a matter of time before the truth cracks through the surface of friendliness and nice personality you’ve plastered on.

Once it does, people will be fucked.

You know who you are when you’re not nice; it’s never a pretty sight. It’s a bloodbath.

Everything seemed perfect.

Dinner’s pretty cheap, but not unbearable. One of the nicest things about you is that you don’t care for the price as long as it’s edible and tasty. You’re not the one to fuss over the cheapness or expensiveness of anything and the Gallaghers loved that, because you wouldn’t talk shit of how they can’t afford shit. Birthdays are special occasion where people usually ask for expensive gifts, but the Gallaghers were always reminded by you not to go grand on celebrations or presents, because you didn’t like them spending their money on something other than theirselves.

They still went with it though, going to a cheap local bar where they serve cheap dinner so everyone could celebrate the birth date of you, who was born special in southside Chicago with kindness that’s seemingly a curse.

The night went by smoothly, everyone enjoying their time and having fun — You, Ian, Mickey, Mandy, Sandy, Lip, Fiona, Liam, Debbie, Franny, Veronica, Kev, and even Frank who was by the bar because his family disapproved of him joining. He still did, considering you’re the nicest kid he’s ever met.

Perfect. Everything was perfect. Too perfect that it’s becoming strange, how well this night is going.

You were absolutely correct to feel like that.

Mickey’s blood was boiling at the man that had suddenly approached the table with a friendly smile only to go around spitting whatever the fuck he wanted to talk about, mainly nasty things. But according to him, he knew you and you knew him, well enough, even though they didn’t know him despite being your boyfriends. The Gallaghers were collectively surprised of his sudden appearance, considering none of them knew him, but concerns littered their faces when the man mentioned you.

“I honestly don’t know what (Y/n)’s thinking, hanging out with Gallaghers and dating one,” The man, who ( unwantedly ) introduced himself as Caius snickered.

Ian, despite his annoyance increasing at Caius’ presence, tried to remain calm. “What’s it to you? And fyi, he’s also dating him, so don’t fucking talk like that.” He pointed at Mickey, who glared daggers at the man.

“Fuck, he’s dating two guys?” Caius laughed mockingly. “And a Milkovich at that. But aren’t you, like, bipolar though? With the gene.” His mention of the diagnosis made Mickey furious as he slammed his hands against the table and attempted to stand up, only to be held back by Ian. Everyone had their blood boiling now, but forced themselves to keep calm since it’s your birthday. Nobody wanted to ruin it for you.

“I guess crazy psychopaths are his type, huh? With how the screws in his head are fucking loose, I’m not surprised.” He snarled, looking at both of them. However, his words cuts through the boiling rage within Ian and Mickey as they both processed his words, furrowing their brows in confusion at the mention of the screws in your head being loose.

Before anyone could utter a single word, the loud sound of wine bottle smashing against the back of Caius’ head erupts throughout the entire bar as he dropped to the floor cursing loudly, revealing you holding the remaining end of the shattered bottle. The nice look on your face no longer visible as it contorted into an emotionless expression, eyes holding utmost coldness with some unknown darkness within them that sent chills up everyone’s spine.

You merely acknowledged Caius groaning in pain on the floor, throwing away the shattered piece of the wine bottle to the side as you nonchalantly patted off your hands of any invisible dirt.

“Oh my fucking god,” Fiona was the first to react, terrified as she witnessed Caius touch the back of his head and get a blood on his palm. The other Gallaghers were already standing a feet away as they all jumped up and away from the table when you smashed a bottle on the man’s head, completely shocked and stunned, Lip and Carl letting out holy fuck.

“Jesus fucking Christ!”

“What the fuck did you just do?”

Ian and Mickey exclaimed in sync, with Ian looking at you while Mickey at Caius, both eyes wide and shock on their faces.

You shrugged, the usual smile completely nonexistent. “Smashed a bottle on an old friend’s head after talking shit about my boyfriends.” The slightest hint of apathy in your tone worried them a bit, but you quickly shifted your cold gaze to Caius. “Quit fucking moaning, Caius. You already saw it coming when you decided to approach them while I was gone for the bathroom.”

“Fuck,” Caius groaned, laying on his back to shoot you a glare. “I just got fucking discharged from the hospital you put me in, shithead. A little nice sympathy maybe? The one you fucking show people.”

“Certainly didn’t need sympathy when you brought up Ian’s bipolar disorder,” You smiled sarcastically. “And don’t be fucking dramatic, it was just few broken bones.”

“You made me fucking bleed internally and you wanna call that just a few broken bones?” Caius snapped. Everyone’s eyes widened.

Rolling your eyes, you folded the sleeves up of your button up while clenching and unclenching your fist, something that Ian and Mickey didn’t miss. “Serves you right for planning to shoot Micky Milkovich. Unfortunately for you, I genuinely and utterly loathe someone describing either of them as crazy psychopaths, especially since Ian’s been diagnosed bipolar, so...”

You grinned sadistically.

“Consider today your finally meet God and be sent to Hell day.”

Everyone watched as you rub your face while talking to the cops about what happened inside the bar, the back of your hand all bloody and knuckles busted, probably tainted in both Caius’ and your own blood. It was scary to see you so violent and, as Caius said, have screws in the head loose. The unlikeliness and the way you acted and looked so different from how you usually were terrified them.

Not Ian and Mickey, though. They were standing on both of your sides while the rest were a few feet behind, still attempting to calm down from the shock of witnessing your change in attitude and your true colors seeping through the cracks.

Your entire demeanor now was back to normal; not that cold and expressionless presence with terrifying apathy, but the warm, full of expression and accepting presence. You had quietly greeted the cops earlier with a small smile that turned into a frown of guilt, which somehow was enough for them not to handcuff you despite the damage you caused on Caius.

“I probably shouldn’t have done all of those to him,” You muttered thoughtfully while biting your lip. “I don’t think I regret it though. He crossed the line, I got pissed.”

“You normally don’t get pissed, Mr. (L/n).” One of the cops remarked.

Shrugging your shoulders, you gave them a small smile. “That’s just what you think of me. I don’t really care if people insult me or talk shit about me, but my boyfriends are one of the most significant people in my life, so they’re off-limits. I really can’t handle anyone talking shit about them.” Your soft tone falling down to a serious and firm one, you narrowed your eyes at the ambulance that contained Caius’ unconscious body.

“Are Mr. Milkovich and Mr. Gallagher basically your trigger?” The other cop wondered.

You nodded immediately, “Yeah. I think so.” Rubbing your nape with the uninjured hand nervously, you bit the inside of your cheek. “Shouldn’t you be handcuffing me? I definitely went too far, I blacked out in anger, and he’s unconscious with some injuries that are probably worse than what I think, so…” You slowly brought your hands together, ready to get arrested.

“Don’t worry, witnesses came forward and shared what happened. They confirmed Caius went too far with the disclosure of a person’s medical condition confidentiality.” One of the officers stated, gently bringing your hands down.

Your eyes snapped to the cops, “Wait, really?”

“Yes, they understood how off-limits your boyfriends are and immediately talked to us after we arrived.” The two cops smiled, seeing the look of relief on your face. “We’ll get going then, Mr. (L/n). You have nothing to worry about.”

“Thank you.” Sighing in relief, you gave them a look of gratitude as they began getting into their car before your blank face returned.

“You’re fucking one hell of an actor, (Y/n) (L/n).” Mickey remarked after seeing your face fall and glare threateningly at the ambulance as soon as the cops drove off.

“Hey,” Ian softly called to catch your attention, cupping your face. “Look at me. Look at us. Calm down, (Y/n). It’s fine, we’re fine, okay? You don’t have to be mad anymore.”

Mickey watched silently from the side with his arm around Ian’s waist and the other hand gently rubbing your arm to help bring comfort to you. Tense shoulders slowly softening and body relaxing, they witnessed the rage storm calm in your eyes as the hard gaze softened and you respond to their gesture by melting into their touch.

You sighed deeply, “Okay.”

Both of them couldn’t help but notice the empathy slipping back into your eyes and expression, brightening it up, making it seem more alive. Your eyes looked dead earlier when you were beating the life out of Caius until he was barely breathing, it honestly scared and freaked the fuck out of your boyfriends, even though they would probably never admit it. It was like seeing a soulless person because of the lack of empathy and all.

Though, seeing that happen definitely made them reconsider the thought that you grew up perfectly sane without bottled up issues in southside Chicago — They didn’t realize the bottled up issues was simply your kindness and nice atittude, the main things that literally allows you to get whatever you want from anyone because it’s the easiest way to manipulate others into giving you what you want, and they wouldn’t even realize the manipulation.

That’s your own shit to deal with; you force yourself to be nice and caring, so your apathy wouldn’t come up to the surface and destroy things. However, Ian and Mickey somehow knew none of the nice or caring side you showed to them were fake. Because if they were, would you even be in a relationship with them?

It would probably take a lot of time to figure you out, especially when you seem to like hiding behind the nicest person in southside Chicago mask and never let the surface crack to get even a peek inside, but they were willing to try. You’re their boyfriend after all.

“We’ll figure it out, (Y/n).” Mickey gently says. “We always fucking do. Right, Gallagher?” He smirked at Ian, who instantly nodded with an of course, before Mickey grabbed the back of his head and kissed his lips.

You smiled at them, genuinely.

© ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴅᴇsʀɪsᴇ. sᴛᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ, ᴘʟᴀɢɪᴀʀɪᴢɪɴɢ, ᴏʀ ᴜsɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ғᴏʀ ᴍᴏɴᴇᴛᴀʀʏ ɢᴀɪɴ ɪs sᴛʀɪᴄᴛʟʏ ᴘʀᴏʜɪʙɪᴛᴇᴅ. ᴀsᴋ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛɪɴɢ ᴏʀ ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪɴɢ.

[em-harlsnow]

the tiktok trend where you try and look through your partner’s phone to see how they react.

ian’s just plain curious about this one. he trusts mickey, obviously, but he does wonder how he’ll react if ian tries to go on his phone. he might not want him on it because he’s embarrassed about the kind of porn he watches, or maybe he talked shit about him to sandy.

either way, ian wants to know what he’ll do.

on the couch, mickey’s working his way through a bag of crisps, watching whatever TV show is playing absentmindedly.

his phone’s on his lap.

ian reaches across to get it and the reaction is instant.

mickey grabs the chips by the opening and holds it an arms length away. “No! I told you to get your own! I offered to buy you some! This one’s mine! Fuck off!” he yells, outraged.

ian can’t help but laugh. “i just wanted your phone.”

mickey looks confused, and then shrugs. “oh. here.” he says, handing it over.

mickey doesn’t even seem to care, never mind notice when ian flips through it. he checks the search history, and isn’t disappointed, but doesn’t check the messages because that seems like an invasion of privacy.

when ian looks back at mickey, the bag of chips is still gripped in one hand, hard, and he keeps side-eyeing ian as if he’s gonna catch him off guard and steal them.

ian chuckles, and hands his phone back.

[andreafmn]

Kinktober ⛓️ Day 3

Word Count: 2.5K Paring:  Lip Gallagher x Fem!Reader Prompt @kinktober2023: Hate Sex WARNINGS: SMUT 18+ (minors DNI),  p-in-v sex, foul language, reader is technically underage

Summary: There is no one that (Y/N) despises more than Philip Gallagher, but having his brother as her best friend forces them in close proximity more than they would like. Or maybe they do?

A/N: This is set some time during season 3 so Lip is around 18 and reader would be 17 since she's contemporary with Ian's age, so do with that what you will.

<- Previous

“Yo, Ian,” Lip’s voice rang through the house. “You’re girlfriend’s here!”

“Oh, fuck off, Lip,” (Y/N) said as she bumped past him into the Gallagher home. “I know you wish I was here to see you, but I don’t do charity work on Tuesdays.” 

“Fuck you, (Y/L/N). You’d be lucky if I was the one you were studying with.” 

“Of course, the genius Philip Gallagher that doesn’t even want to go to college,” she snickered, stopping at the rest on the stairs. “I’ll take my chances with my own brain. Thanks.”  

“You’ll regret helping Ian with math,” he called as he walked to the front door. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” 

With an exasperated scoff, (Y/N) walked up the rest of the stairs, clutching her backpack tighter than she should have. She didn’t understand why she and the older Gallagher son didn’t get along. She had a wonderful relationship with everyone else in the family –even Frank was courteous enough with her– but something never clicked with Lip. Every time they were in close proximity, they would bicker and fight until someone else got in the way. It made it especially difficult when (Y/N) came over to spend time with Ian. 

She would never say she hated Lip. But the sentiment was close enough that others would notice. Between the terrible side-eyes and the snide comments, being around the two could easily become suffocating. Granted, everyone but them knew what was truly happening. They had met their match in each other but were too stubborn to admit it. 

“You ran into Lip, didn’t you?” Ian chuckled as his friend walked into his room. “It’s all over your face.” 

“Unfortunately, I did,” she sighed, plopping down next to him on the floor. “But he seemed to be going somewhere, so I didn’t have to talk to him for much.” 

“Just long enough to make sure you got annoyed. Perfect mood to study Geometry with you.” 

“Fuck you, I’m always a delight.” 

“Sure. Until you spend a second with Lip, and then everything goes to shit.” 

“Shut up, Ian,” she said, rolling her eyes. “If you want me to help you study, you’ll stop talking about your despicable brother, Phillip.” 

Hours passed between textbooks and worksheets, notebooks and loose papers, and somehow the bright afternoon sun had shifted into night. Ian had already gone to bed, tired from a long day of shapes and mathematical equations. Almost everyone in the house had done the same, tucked into bed early, which was a luxury for anyone on the South Side. 

Meanwhile, (Y/N) was still wide awake, taking advantage of the tiredness of the family to use up what was left of the hot water. She could have gone home, to her packed house and probably cold water, but she found comfort staying with the Gallaghers. The family was a melting pot of chaos, there were more fights than a WWE ring, and every single day brought a different kind of adventure. Her house had all of that, except the real warmth of a family. And being there made her feel like she was a part of something. 

The water ran across her skin, soothing the tight muscles that stiffened her body. The smell of soap filled her nose as she lathered herself, and she was glad that the bar seemed new still. They were small luxuries that she was grateful she could partake in every once in a while. And in the quiet of the night, it was almost peaceful.

Until a sound that did not fit into her spa-like scenario filled the air. From behind the curtain, she could hear a strong stream of liquid falling into the toilet. But she knew she had locked the door —not that it would have worked in that house anyway. 

She moved the curtain slightly to reveal Lip standing in front of the toilet. “What the fuck are you doing?” (Y/N) exclaimed, making sure her body was covered. “Can’t you see I’m using the bathroom?” 

“You’re in the shower. Toilet was up for grabs.” 

“Why couldn’t you have gone downstairs?” 

“Because I was already upstairs,” he shrugged, shaking his cock above the toilet as he finished. “Stop gawking, (Y/N). I know it’s impressive, but staring is kind of rude.” 

“Fuck you, Lip. I’ve seen better,” she said, closing the curtain to conceal the way her skin was flushing. “I’ve definitely been with better.” 

“Keep telling yourself that,” he snickered, turning on the sink. “But we both know the guys you’ve fucked are not exactly Adonises.”

“You’re such an asshole, Lip,” she scoffed. “If you’re gonna be here, at least pass me my towel.”

“Why should I? You can just step out.” 

“You’re not seeing me naked, Lip.” 

“It’s only fair,” he chuckled. “You saw mine, I get to see yours.” 

“Stop being a perv, Lip. I’m not one of those chicks you fuck for fun. I actually have standards.” 

“Right, and they’re so high, right?”

“They are.” 

“Is that why you fucked Billy Spencer two months ago or lost your v-card with Jesse Suarez in his car? Yeah, those standards are skyscraping high.” 

In a fit of rage, (Y/N) ripped the curtain open and sauntered out of the tub, getting as close to Lip as possible. “You don’t get to fucking judge my decisions, Philip,” she spat, jabbing her index finger against his chest. “Who I sleep with or don’t sleep with is none of your business. And you sure as hell are one to talk. Your list is not the most pristine, either. Starting with Karen, for example.”

“Don’t you fucking talk about her,” he said through gritted teeth, pushing back on her as she had. “You don’t talk about her.” 

“What? You can dish it out but can’t fucking take it, huh?”

“I can take whatever you fucking throw at me, (Y/N). I ain’t scared of you.” 

“Maybe you should be,” she continued. There was almost no space between them. She had him pressed against the wall, their noses almost touching as they heaved in anger. “There is no one else that can put you in your place like I can, and you know it.” 

“I don’t need you to put me in my place.”

“Are you sure?”

“You’re so fucking infuriating!” 

“Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?” 

Lip’s next move was a surprise to her. She was expecting him to keep yelling or stomp out of the bathroom. Instead, he placed a hand on either side of her face and crashed his lips onto hers. He was all kinds of rough and forceful, clashing teeth and lips together without any care. But somehow, (Y/N) found herself kissing back just as roughly, grabbing onto the lapel of his jacket. 

But it wasn’t until she felt the roughness of his hands on the skin of her back that she realized she had jumped out of the shower, naked and still dripping with water. She jumped away from Lip as though his touch was fire and scrambled for her towel, trying her best to cover her body from him.

“Why are you covering yourself now?” he laughed. “I already saw everything, (Y/N).”

“Fuck you, Philip.”

“I was gonna let you,” he grinned. “But it looks like you got performance anxiety. Maybe you’re not as good as guys say.” 

“Not that it’s any of your concern, but I’m great in bed,” she argued. “But I would rather do it with someone I actually like.”

“It’s just sex, (Y/N),” he countered. “This is not to fall in love.” 

(Y/N) kept quiet for a beat, thinking over the boy’s request. His reputation for being a good lay preceded him, and she would have been lying if she said she had never thought about it. But the fact that his personality was almost revolting made her wonder if it was worth it. 

“God, you’re so fucking infuriating,” she said before doing the same thing he had done. “This means nothing. You’re just convenient.”

“Right,” he chuckled against her mouth. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“Oh, shut up already.” 

“Make me.” 

Her lips did all the answering, molding to his mouth perfectly, their tongues dancing together in perfect symphony. If she had believed in fate and the alignment of the universe, she would have deluded herself into thinking that they were meant to be. 

Lip’s clothes were rough against her unclothed skin, the zippers and the fabrics scratching at her body and rubbing the most sensitive parts of her body that were exposed. Warmth pooled between her legs with the kiss alone, and her body’s reaction scared her. It was almost instantaneous, and it had been the first time it had happened. 

“It’s not fair that I’m the only one that’s naked,” she said breathlessly.

“Do you ever stop fucking talking?” 

“Not when my mouth’s unoccupied,” she snickered. “And I have a lot to say.”  

“You’re too fucking much,” he grumbled as he took off layer after layer of clothing, letting them fall to the floor. “Now come here.”

He kissed her roughly again, pressing his chest as close to her body as he could, his hands snaking to the small of her back. As their mouth moved in synch, they walked backward until her back was pressed against the wall, the coldness making her skin erupt in goosebumps. But his hands were enough to build a fire inside her. The way they mapped every inch of her body and worked in tandem with his mouth to find her most sensitive spots. 

Lip nipped at her jaw and her neck, traveling down to her collarbone as his hands tweaked the hardened peaks of her breasts. Somehow, he was able to annoy her within an inch of raging ire and could bring her to the brink of orgasm with just his mouth and hands. 

In a swift move, Lip turned (Y/N), bending her against the wall as he pulled the zipper of his pants down. The clothes pooled at his ankles as he held his cock and lined himself up with her wetness, running the head across her fold and teasing her clit. 

“For someone that is just doing this out of convenience, you’re really wet,” he chuckled darkly. “Have you been dreaming about this?” 

“I could ask the same of you, Philip,” she retorted. “Because for someone that doesn’t really care, you’re really fucking hard.” 

“I’m only just a man, (Y/N).” 

“How about you shut up and prove it already, then? Maybe…” 

(Y/N)’s words died in her throat as she felt him sink into her completely, stretching her walls like no one had done before. He took the air out of her lungs, a moan getting strangled in her throat at the suddenness. 

Lip didn’t move instantly, allowing her body to get used to the size. At least, that was what he would have said if she had asked. Truthfully, being inside her was the most overwhelming experience he had ever had. He needed a moment to compose himself before he busted too early. The last thing he needed was for (Y/N) to have more ammo against him. He enjoyed their bickering reparté, but he had quite the reputation when it came to sex, and he wouldn’t let her ruin it. Even if his body was trying to betray him. 

Once he felt he could control himself, he started moving hips, quickly setting a pace that had (Y/N) letting out a string of moans that he wanted to listen to for the rest of his life. Her hands gripped the towel bar before her, her knuckles turning white from the tightness. She met his every move, pushing against him as he pummeled into her. 

“Harder,” she meweled. “Fuck me harder, Philip.” 

Lip did exactly as told. Skin met skin at a rapid pace, filling the otherwise quiet room with pants, moans, and slaps. Even her using his full name did not put a damper on his mood, rather loved the way it sounded in her mouth. And for the first time, it didn’t sound like she was saying it with  hate. At least, not completely. 

He snaked his hand around her body, his hand finding the mound of her clit and pressing two fingers on it. They circled and rolled the bud, making her walls clench around him as he pistoned into her. He knew both of them were reaching their end. The tightening of her cunt and the tightening of his balls told him enough.

“Fuck, don’t stop, Lip. Don’t you dare fucking stop.” 

“I wasn’t planning to.” 

And he didn’t. He kept thrusting until (Y/N) let out a pleasurable yell that had him covering her mouth. As he did, she bit down on his skin unconsciously, making him moan and awakening something in him he didn’t know was dormant. It brought him right to the brink of his end, and it took everything in him to leave her warmth and explode all over her ass. 

His body slumped over hers, absentmindedly kissing the skin of her shoulder as they both came down from their orgasm. They felt comfortable in their silence, their pants synching and their bodies melting against each other. If they could have, they would have fallen asleep in that very position. 

But a knock on the door startled them apart.

“Yo, I need the bathroom,” Carl called from the other side of the door. “I’ve gotta piss real bad.” 

“Can you go downstairs, Carl?” (Y/N) asked. “I’m just finishing up in the shower.” 

“Ugh, fine! Just hurry up. There’s more people in this house, you know?” 

“Yeah, sorry!” 

After wiping themselves down, Lip and (Y/N) started getting dressed, neither meeting each other’s gaze. “We don’t speak about this to anyone,” she finally said. “Especially not Ian. And this can’t happen ever again.” 

“Sure,” he mumbled. “Whatever you say.” 

“I’m serious, Philip,” she pleaded, placing a hand on his chest to get his attention. “If Ian finds out, I’ll never hear the end of it.” 

“I won’t say anything,” he laughed, looking at her in a way he never had before. “But I wouldn’t mind if this happened again.” 

“Are you serious?” 

“What? The rumors are true. You are a good lay.” 

“You’re not too bad yourself, Mr. Gallagher,” she grinned before stopping at the door to exit first. “But I don’t think this will happen again.” 

“Keep telling yourself that, (Y/N).” 

“Fuck off, Philip,” she whispered from the end of the hall before disappearing into the boys’ bedroom, leaving Lip to think of just how he could make this a repeat situation.

My content will always be free, but if you’re feeling particularly generous, you can leave a tip on any of my posts  or buy me a coffee to support me and my love of writing If you’d like to be tagged in every Kinktober work, any fandom or story: click here Make sure you have my notifications on so you know every time I post!

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[sickness-health-all-that-shit]

When Lip brings home an advanced android in order to test it for the company he works for, Ian doesn't know what to make of him. MIK-940810, or Mickey, seems virtually indistinguishable from a human being, throwing Ian for a loop as he feels an undeniable connection to the android. Their relationship deepens when Ian finds out about something that Mickey has been keeping from Lip and the people who built him. --- There’s a faint blue light shining from the place where Lip’s thumb rests for about two seconds. Ian’s expecting some kind of whirring noise, like when you turn a computer on, but there’s just silence. And then suddenly the blue eyes come alive.

here's my fic for the Shameless Big Bang round 12!! 💖

huge thanks to @whaticameherefor for organising this event and keeping it going, to @too-schoolforcool for the precious beta work and encouragement and to the amazingly talented @cal-tastrophe for this spectacular art!!! 🤩🥰 so excited to finally share this story with everyone <33

[fictionalcharactersaremypassion]

Caught

Panic came over Fiona when she awoke that morning, finding herself in a bedroom that was not her own. Slivers of sunlight streamed in between the closed curtains, the sounds of soft breathing beside her made her instantly remember last night’s events. 

“Fuck,” she said quietly. “Fuck. Colin, get up.” He stirred somewhat, mumbling incoherently. She shoved him. “Get up!” 

“The fuck do you want?” He groaned, rubbing at his eyes. 

“It’s morning, you fucking idiot,” she whispered furiously. 

He held her thigh, still looking sleepy. “Calm down.” 

“Oh, yeah. That’s what every woman wants to hear,” she snarked. 

“Everyone’s probably still asleep,” Colin said, ignoring that. “Just go out the front door.” 

“And if they’re not?” 

“I don’t fucking know,” Colin shrugged. “It’s too damn early to think right now.” 

She rolled her eyes. Sliding out of bed, she pulled her underwear and bra on, staying as quiet as she possibly could. 

“You looked better without them on,” came Colin’s smart ass remark as she looked around for her shirt. 

“One more remark like that and you’ll never see my tits again,” she said, to which he held his hands up, smirking. “Now where the hell’s my shirt?” 

“Hey, hey,” Colin waved a hand to get her attention, then pointed at his dresser. “Over there.” 

She turned, eyebrows furrowing, spotting it laying atop the dresser. “I didn’t put this here.” 

“I did,” he said, the blanket falling down to his abdomen, “when I got up to piss.” 

She narrowed her eyes. “And what time was that?” 

He shrugged. “Four or whatever. I don’t know.” 

“And you didn’t wake me?” She said, incredulous. 

“You seemed like you needed it.” A grin spread over his face. “Plus, you get kinda bitchy when you’re tired.” 

She rolled her eyes, pulling the shirt over her head. “Fuck you.” 

They had this thing going on for a while now. A thing that neither one of them brought up to properly define. It was more fucking, for sure, but they were both wary after so many shitty attempts at relationships. Best to just take it slow and see where it took them. 

“You did plenty of that last night,” Colin said smoothly. She paused, taking in the hickeys she’d left along his bare shoulder. 

“Shit,” she said with a slight laugh. “Sorry about that.” 

“You hear me complainin’?” Colin’s gaze slid over her body appreciatively. And it didn’t feel like the way those sleazy guys at work did. Come to think of it, nothing with Colin ever resembled any of the guys she’d been with before. Fuck, is she actually fallin’ for a Milkovich? “You got work today?” 

“Not ‘till later,” she replied, buttoning her jeans. “Why?” 

He didn’t respond right away, making her look up. It might just be a trick of the light, but Fiona thought he might actually be blushing. 

“It’s fucking stupid,” he said. “Never mind.” 

“No, what is it?” she said curiously. 

Colin rubbed the side of his nose, reminding her of the way she’d seen Mickey rub his eyebrow in the few instances they were in each other’s presence. Must have been a Milkovich thing. “If you were hungry,” he said, trying to come off as indifferent, “I know this cheap diner we could go to.” 

Her eyebrows flew up. “You’re askin’ me out to breakfast?” 

The question made him uncomfortable. “You said you wanted more than just fucking.” 

“Yeah,” she said, surprising herself with how much she did want it, “yeah. I did.” 

“Is that a yes, then?” Colin asked. She saw beneath his exterior that she was actually hopeful, and that just wasn’t something she was used to seeing on a Milkovich. 

She toyed with her hair, making it look a bit more presentable and less disheveled. “Look, I would if I had the money. But I’ve got the electric to think about it-” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Colin cut her off. “I got enough for both of us.” 

“I can’t ask you to do that,” she shook her head. 

“You didn’t ask. I’m offering,” he sat up now, the blanket pooling in his lap. “And if you really want to pay me back, then you can always give me a blow job-” 

He broke out into soft laughter when she gave him an unamused look. 

“You’re a jackass.” 

“I’m kidding,” he assured her, still chuckling. “But I wasn’t kidding about paying. You can pay next time if you want.” 

“You’re already thinking about a next time, huh?” Fiona smiled, despite that nagging twinge telling her to reconsider. Sue her. She fuckin’ liked him. “Alright. Fine, you can pay. But this place better have good coffee.” 

He grinned. It was a damn good smile too. She briefly wished he did it more often. 

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to tell the kids, though,” she said thoughtfully. They’ll be awake soon enough and notice that she’s not there. 

“Nothing if you move fast enough,” Colin swung his legs over the edge of the bed, reaching for the pair of shorts closests to him. Her eyes were drawn to his bare upper half, watching the muscles in his back flex as he bent down to find a t-shirt to throw on. 

“You’re a fucking creep, Gallagher,” came Colin’s teasing voice, snapping her out of her thoughts. 

Fuck, she was busted. 

“I saw you staring,” Colin was looking at her again, smirking. “You like what you see?” 

“There’s not much to see,” she replied, going that route instead of acknowledging that his question had made her face feel unusually warm. 

“That what you’re going with, Sweetheart?” Colin stood to his full height, pushing the curtains open. 

“Don’t call me that,” Fiona rolled her eyes. She was going to start walking out but Colin had other ideas; he wrapped a strong arm around her waist, gently pulling her back. Her hair was pushed out of the way, giving him access to her neck. She pressed her lips together, fighting the urge to squirm. Fuck, he knew just where to go. “Hey, if you want to have breakfast, I’ll have go home and freshen up.” 

“Hang on,” he mumbled in between kisses. 

“I swear to God if you give me a fucking hickey, Milkovich, I’ll rip your dick off.” 

“That’s kinda turning me on, not gonna lie...” 

“Oh my God,” she muttered, and he huffed out a laugh. She lightly shoved him away. “I’m gettin’ out of here before your brothers or Mandy wake up.” 

“They won’t be up this early, trust me.” 

The two of them crept out of Colin's room. The rest of the house was silent, much to Fiona’s relief. She didn’t need anyone seeing them. The last thing she wanted to do was explain what all this was between them. 

“I still can’t believe we fucked while they were home,” she mumbled. 

“They probably just think you’re some whore I brought home,” he said with a shrug, to which she scoffed. 

“Thanks.” 

“Hey, I didn’t call you the whore,” Colin said, keeping his voice down. She snorted. “Okay, looks like they’re all sleeping. Just head out and we’ll meet back up in twenty.” 

Fiona saw something in her peripheral that made her freeze. She whirled around, figuring it to be one of Colin’s brothers, only to gawk. 

“Ian?” 

Her brother froze too, staring at them with wide eyes. “Fiona?” He squeaked out, voice noticeably a higher pitch. 

She couldn’t help but notice his rumpled clothing and the messy hair. “What the fuck? What are you doing here?” 

Ian looked a little panicked. “What are you doing here?” He yelped. 

“Did you come from Mandy's room?” Colin demanded, butting into the conversation, his protective instincts coming out. 

“N-no!” 

“I swear to God if you were fucking my baby sister-” Colin hissed. 

“I wasn’t!” 

“Okay, okay,” Fiona put a hand on his chest to calm him. Ian gawked at this momentarily, but was a little more focused on not getting murdered.“Don’t fucking touch him.” 

“I wasn’t with Mandy,” Ian said hurriedly. “I swear I wasn’t!” 

“Then why the fuck are you here?” 

“Colin,” Fiona snapped. “Calm the fuck down. Jesus.” 

“Fi-” Colin started with a sigh. 

“If you touch him, Colin, I swear to God-” 

“Alright, alright! I won’t touch him. He still owes me an explanation.” 

“And you’ll get it,” Fiona said, looking at Ian expectantly. 

“Um, well-” Ian said weakly. 

“Goddamn it, Gallagher, what’s all the noise about? Did you wake my brother up?” A new voice complained, and out came Mickey from his room, stopping dead in his tracks when he saw all of them standing there. “Fuck...” 

Ian shut his eyes, one hand covering his face. 

It didn’t take Colin long to connect the dots. “Holy shit,” he said in disbelief. 

Fiona was just as shocked. This was not what she expected to happen this morning. Although, she couldn’t help but notice the way Mickey stiffened up when his eyes landed on his brother. Not a surprise, given the Milkovich’s asshole of a father. 

“You’re a fag, Mick?” Colin said, completely caught off guard. “Since when?” 

She whacked him hard for that one. “Hey,” she said sharply. 

Colin gave her a look in return. “What? I don’t give a shit. I’m just askin’.” 

Ian tried to do damage control, which she suspected was to save face for Mickey, and blurted out, “I-I was just returning something to Mickey. I, uh, borrowed it from him and I thought I should bring it back before he punches me or something.” 

Colin snorted. Mickey looked like he was seconds away from actually punching him right then and there. 

“Do you think we’re fucking stupid?” The second oldest Milkovich said to no one in particular. Then, he asked staright up: “Gallagher, are you fucking my brother?” 

“No. I mean yes but-” Ian faltered, trying to come up with the right words. He looked at Mickey, and their silent communication lasted for several moments. Taking a deep breath, he finally said, “Me and Mickey aren’t just fucking. He’s my boyfriend.” 

Fiona felt like her mind was blown. Jesus. “How long has this been going on?” 

“A couple of months,” Mickey answered cautiously. He was still glancing at Colin. 

“Seriously?” Fiona didn’t know how she’d missed this. Wouldn’t she have known if Ian was sneaking off? 

“Hold the fuck on then,” Colin said suddenly, “I thought you and Mandy were dating? That’s what she told us.” 

“It’s fake,” Ian said quickly. “She offered to pretend to be my girlfriend at school. I keep the creepy guys away and no one suspects I’m gay.” 

Colin rubbed his face tiredly. “Jesus. It’s too fucking early for all of this.” 

Fiona definitely agreed. 

There was silence for a couple of seconds. Ian’s eyes darted from her to Colin. “Are you guys together too?” 

Mickey looked interested in hearing the answer as well. 

“We’re-” Fiona didn’t know how to explain it. What were they? They weren’t just fuck buddies. They were both interested in taking this further, but at the moment? She didn’t know what they were. 

“Yeah,” Colin took the reins and said. He placed his hand on her lower back. Fiona unconsciously leaned into his touch. 

“I stayed here last night,” she admitted. 

“That’s probably why we heard all the thuds,” Mickey said to Ian, casually. Fiona was mortified. Ian just grimaced. 

“Jesus, Mick. Don’t say things like that.” 

“Did I offend your delicate sensibilities, Gallagher?”

Ian, seemingly forgetting who he was in front of, just grinned. “Didn’t think I was so delicate last night.” 

“Okay, no,” Fiona said loudly. “You’re not going to do that in front of me. You two can fuck or be boyfriends and shit all you want, but I don’t need to know anything about my brother’s sex life.” 

Ian flushed, ducking his head. 

“Me either,” Colin added. 

“Sorry,” Ian offered an apology, and she rolled her eyes fondly. 

Her brother seemed alright, if just a bit surprised that they were both dating Milkovich’s. But Fiona had been studying Mickey for a couple of minutes now and he seemed close to fleeing or shitting his pants. It reminded her a little of when Ian came out; he’d been nervous too. She could only imagine how he must be feeling right now. 

But even in the midst of this, she saw Mickey’s eyes glancing her brother’s way, his face softening and for a moment, he wasn’t one of South Side’s notorious thugs, but just a kid that was clearly in love. 

“We should probably head out,” Fiona said, referencing to herself and Ian. “Come on.” 

Colin spoke up, “Are we still on?” 

She turned, a smile lighting up her face. “We’re still on.” 

“On for what?” Ian said curiously. 

“More fucking, probably,” Mickey shrugged. 

“Fuck off,” Colin swatted him upside the head. “It ain’t like that, dickhead. We’re going out.” 

“Your brother’s secretly a gentleman,” Fiona told Mickey, who scoffed. 

“Since fucking when?” 

“Keep talkin’, fuck head. You did plenty of shit as a kid that I’ll gladly tell Gallagher,” Colin threatened. Mickey, much to her amusement, blanched a little. 

“Technically we’re both Gallaghers,” Ian pointed out. 

“You know damn well what I meant, Red.” 

“Come on,” Fiona smirked, a hand on her brother’s shoulder. “Let’s get back before the others wake up. I don’t need Carl blowing up the house.” 

Ian nodded, his gaze settling on Mickey. “Bye Mickey,” he said shyly. “You should stop by Kash and Grab later. You know, if you want to.” 

“Yeah, sure. Whatever,” Mickey said like he didn’t care. 

Colin snorted. “Some relationship you’ve got there.” 

“Shut the fuck up.” 

Fiona made a bold move of taking Colin by the hand, pulling him towards the door. “You can go on,” she told Ian, who didn’t need to be told twice, so now it was only three of them. “Bye Mickey,” she called. 

Mickey grunted, and went back to his room, slamming the door shut. 

“Make sure you talk to him,” Fiona said, realizing that she was still holding onto his hand. 

“About what?” Colin said, slightly confused. 

“About him being gay,” Fiona said carefully. 

“Why the fuck do we have to talk about it? I don’t care where he sticks his dick.” 

“That’s not the point,” Fiona sighed. “We both know how Terry is. He needs to know you aren’t going to kick his ass over it.” 

Colin met her eyes. He nodded, understanding now. “Okay. I’ll talk to him.” 

“Make sure he’s okay,” she added. “And don’t pressure him to tell Iggy or Mandy. It’s his choice.” 

“I know that,” he said, looking serious. “I’d never do that to him.” 

“Good,” Fiona glanced down at their still conjoined hands, and let go. “See you in twenty?” 

“See ya, Gallagher.” 

Fiona walked back home with a grin on her face. Unlike the other guys in her past, she had a good feeling about Colin Milkovich. 

[cloudy-em]

Hi, that's me again😅

So... my other idea for Lip is: (again with relatively shy reader, because I love the thrope a lot) the reader and Lip are already in a relationship, one day someone teases her a little too much on the sexual theme (they haven't had sex yet so she's a bit insecure about it) he notices, he defends her, and once they're alone he starts to joke around, teases her in a sweet way, to make her feel more comfortable to talk about it. (She is not a virgin, she's just not that experienced)

Hope you like this one, if not. It's okay, I promise😂

another great idea! <3

personally i don't celebrate thanksgiving but i remember an episode from one of the earlier seasons of them doing a thanksgiving meal which is very convenient for this so it's loosely based on that

warnings: sexual comments, innuendos, Mickey's kinda being an ass but his comments aren't ill-intended

xxxxxxxxxx

The Gallagher household was bustling with activity. Fiona and V were in the kitchen, finishing up some last minute food preparations while Kevin was entertaining Carl and some of his friends in the yard with games. Ian was fixing drinks for everyone, desperately trying to find Debbie to figure out what she wanted (she was in her room, Mandy braiding her hair for her so she could impress Little Hank). Lip was finishing up a project for some sophomore who'd offered to pay him $100, and Liam was sitting patiently in his high chair. Y/N did her best to help out by setting the table, ensuring there were enough chairs and that everyone had all the proper utensils.

Mickey walked in the front door, beer in hand and flopped down, watching as Y/N reached across to the other side of the table to put a fork next to the plate. Mickey whistled like a boy in a 60s tv show.

"Damn, I bet you're used to that position," he quipped, taking another swig or his beer. Y/N looked at him, furrowing her eyebrows.

Mickey shrugged. "You know, cause I'm sure Philip bends you over pretty often." Y/N realized his implications, blushing and looking away. Mickey laughed, much more comfortable on the subject of sex than she was. "I'm sure Fiona's had to schedule time out of the house with the rest of the kids just to give you two some 'alone time'!"

Y/N grew increasingly uncomfortable. She wasn't a virgin or a puritan, but she and Lip hadn't had sex yet. They hadn't had a conversation about it or anything, but she wanted to wait a while and Lip had never brought it up with her.

Mickey laughed, "Look, kid, don't have to hide anything, we've all walked in on Lip with one of his hookups before." He paused for dramatic effect.

"Besides, it's always the shy one's who are the kinkiest!"

Y/N looked away, trying not to pay him any more mind and focus on her task. Lip walked down the stairs having finished with the sophomore's project, and immediately noticed something was off. His girlfriend was shy, sure, but she never bowed her head as low as she had.

"Hey, Lip!" Mickey called, teasing. Lip looked at him, eyebrows raised in expectation. "Maybe you should go out back and have quickie with your girl, get 'er to stop bein' such a priss." Lip realized what was wrong, walking over to his blushing girlfriend and placing his arm around her waist.

"Fuck off," Lip sighed. "Y/N isn't a priss, she just doesn't think the whole world needs to know about her sex life like you and Ian seem to."

Mickey raised his arms in surrender, "'Kay, fuck, Gallagher, it was all teasing, no harm meant!" He got up from his seat and went to the kitchen, presumably to grab another beer.

"C'mon, baby," Lip said softly, squeezing Y/N's waist and guiding her up to his room. He sat with her on the edge of Ian's bed, holding her hand and rubbing his calloused thumb on the back of it.

"I'm sorry he was messin' with you, baby," he whispered. "I'll make sure it doesn't happen again. Anything I can do for you?" He emphasized his apology by pressing a soft kiss to her temple.

"No, just," she paused, thinking about how she wanted to phrase her next sentence. "Do you ever, I don't know, feel like I'm holding you back?"

Lip had a puzzled look on his face. "Whatd'ya mean, hon?"

"Well with like, you know," she sighed, pulling her hand away from Lip to hide her face. "We haven't had sex and I feel like that's my fault." She heard him chuckle quietly, her embarrassment seeping into her soul even more.

"Baby," he cooed, wrapping his arms around her in a hug as she continued to hide her face. "It's nobody's fault. We haven't talked about it yet! That's the most important part of any relationship, and that's taken me a while to learn. I figured you'd bring it up when you were ready. I didn't want you to feel pressured."

She looked up at him, eyes wide and glazed over, on the verge of tears because of her embarrassment. "Really?" she asked.

"Really," he nodded like he had given an order to the universe.

"I thought that maybe you weren't attracted to me or that you thought I wasn't good enough," she whispered.

"Me? Not attracted to you? Aw babe!" he laughed, nose touching hers in a loving exchange. "A pretty thing like you deserves to be worshipped. When we have sex, I'm takin' my time with you."

She giggled at his compliment, rolling her eyes in disbelief.

"Oh, what you don't believe me? I've wanted to sleep with pretty girl forever, I just wanted to make sure she's ready for me," he smiled at her. The more he complimented her, easing in sex references, the more comfortable she felt on the subject. He had waited for her! He didn't think she was a prude or anything, he just had respect for her; he cared for her. She felt warmth in her chest as she processed the conversation. Lip kissed her nose briefly, helping her stand up from the bed.

"And try not to let Mickey get you down. He's just like that and assumes everyone else is comfortable talking about their sex life the way he does. I'll warn him to dial it down when he's around you, though," Lip told her, looking into her eyes to make sure she knew he was serious.

"Thanks, Lip. I love you," she told him, hugging him again.

"I love you, too, Y/N. Now, we'll talk more about us and our boundaries and moving forward later," he told her, trying to help her be more comfortable discussing sex with him. "But right now I think we've got a dinner to be at."

xxxxxx

thanks for reading! sorry about me projecting a lil bit in lip and reader's conversation lol, i just think it's really important to have these conversations with your partners and i think lip, despite being all tough and "not sappy" (but he totally is) really cares about discussing boundaries with his partner

have a great day!

[mickeym4ndy]

re your post about fics where mickey gets released from prison - what are your favorite fanfics like that?

Hi anon! Sorry I this is late I’ve had a crazy week, but here are some of my favs:

The New Year by LanJevinson - so so good. First fic is set over the months following Mickey’s release. It’s from the Gallagher’s perspective and deals with Ian adjusting to Mickey being out and everything that happened between them. (Somehow you get such a good understanding of Mickey even though none of it is from his POV). The sequel is set over the years following the events of the first fic with flashbacks to Mickey’s time in prison. Great characterisation and doesn’t sugarcoat what they went through and how it affected Mickey, but doesn’t villainize anyone either. Honestly I could talk about this fic all day.

broad-shouldered beasts by @biblionerd07 - so good. A fandom favourite for a reason. A set of long one shots set over the years following Mickey getting out of prison. Great characterisation and so so well written. The Svetlana-Mickey-Ian-Yevgeny family unit makes me🥰🥰. Such a great read.

In your love by @sgtmickeyslaughter - set after Mickey gets out of prison after like 2 years. SO good. Tattoo artist Mickey is my favourite thing. Also gives Mickey friends and a good support system which I love. There’s also unreal art to go along with it.

Rebuilding by Freespiritedone - set after Mickey gets out after like 6 years. Tbh, it’s probably not for everyone because it deals with some very very heavy subject matter (Mickey went through some terrible shit in prison) so heed the content warnings!! But if that’s what you’re into it’s really well written. The sequel isn’t finished but it’s still a great fic.

You can’t hurry love by crazynadine - actually set after s7 but it’s a similar vibe. Mickey gets acquitted while he’s in Mexico and moves back to Chicago. Again it gives Mickey friends and a support system which I love.

That’s all I can think of right now but if anyone has any recommendations on fics like this to add feel free! I’m always looking for new fics.

[badassfetish]

This week's @galladrabbles prompt is offered by Sarah, @atthedugouts and it's the sweet song "You Were Meant For Me" by Jewel. ---------------------------------- -- Subject unconscious. No palpable pulse. Airway open, not breathing

-- Gallagher, take over. Prepare for mouth-to-mouth resuscitation

His first time having to resuscitate someone, Ian pinched the nose closed and sealed the guy's mouth with his own. Rescue breaths. Chest compressions. Rescue breaths again. Pulse back. Chest rising. 

He did it.

-- Sir, can you hear me? I'm Ian. You were unconscious. Can you tell me your name, please?

Blue eyes opened and pierced through him, straight to his heart

-- Mickey..  I'm Mickey

Ian knew right there You were meant for me and I was meant for you

[ink-n-shadow]

Request - a headcanon or fic for Ian and Mickey realising their lease is up on the West Side apartment and they have to decide whether or not to stay. Or… their first official date night on the West Side. 💖

Eviction | Gallavich

pairing: Ian Gallagher x Mickey Milkovich

genre: slight angst/eventual fluff (shitty ending but i'm too tired to fix it)

word count: 1118ish

note: i kinda took this into a little bit of an angsty direction so i might rewrite this later but anyway－ (also apologies for going MIA again oops)

The red 'EVICTION NOTICE' stamp was the first thing Ian had noticed after Mickey carelessly tossed their mail on the kitchen counter.

"Hold up－" Ian pulled the envelope in question from the pile and held it close to his face, almost as if it was written in code. "Mick, I thought we paid our rent for the month."

Mickey sidled up to Ian's side, arm coming to loop comfortably around the taller man's midsection. "Thought I did－I took the check to that fucking office lady downstairs and everything."

There was a pause while Ian hurriedly ripped open the envelope and rifled through its contents, eyes scanning over the words quicker than Mickey could keep up with. He was barely past the 'Dear tenants...' part of the letter whenever Ian tossed it back onto the counter in defeat, knuckles immediately digging into his eyes anxiously.

Mickey forced Ian's back against the edge of the kitchen counter as his hands encompassed his husband's, uncovering the now watery green eyes staring back at him and soothingly petting at his cheek. "Hey, chill out, Gallagher. No need to get all anxious and shit, 'ight? I'll just go downstairs and talk to－"

"No! Mick, that's the fucking problem. The check bounced. If the check bounced, that means we don't have enough money in the account－which means we can't afford rent this month." Ian's chest was rising and falling in anxious, panicked breaths as he yanked his hands from Mickey's grip and started combing through his ginger hair. "I－I thought you said that that job was fucking legit!"

"It was! I..." Mickey turned on the ball of his foot as his eyes began scanning his surroundings, the gears of his brain spinning a mile a minute. "I thought it was." Maybe he had gotten the hourly rate wrong－it wouldn't be the first time Mickey struggled with math. But this was the first time that that lack of skill had him worried.

Ian had put his heart and soul into this West Side apartment, and it was finally starting to look like a real home. A photo of him and Mickey from their wedding reception hung delicately in the front hallway, beneath it a shoe rack full of old sneakers and a vanilla-scented candle Mickey swiped from a Marshall's. They even had scrounged up enough money to furnish the living and dining rooms, which simply consisted of some bare-bone table and chairs alongside a foldout sofa Ian was able to find on Facebook Marketplace. It wasn't a lot－especially not for a West Side apartment－but it was at least theirs. Ian couldn't begin to imagine having to pack it all up and move back in with Debbie and Lip. He couldn't imagine having to be back in that house again.

The sound of feet shuffling drew Ian out of his anxious spiral, his vision coming back into focus to see Mickey tousling his hair in the front hallway mirror. He had put on a white muscle tank with a pair of black sweatpants slung low across his hips. If the circumstances had been different, maybe Ian would be reacting differently.

"Mick－c'mon, might as well just start packing now." Ian stretched his hand out, frowning when his husband moved past him quickly without any acknowledgment. His anxiety morphed into annoyance. "Where the fuck're you going?"

"I'm just gonna go talk to the office lady. Shouldn't take me too long," Mickey muttered as he patted down his pants pockets, pressing a absentminded kiss onto the redhead's cheek before his head swiveled around the kitchen. "Have you seen my fucking keys?"

.................................................

Ian was halfway through writing a sappy text message to both Debbie and Lip, trying to explain the situation as best as he could without completely throwing his husband under the bus. He was about to hit send when the door busted open, Mickey padding inside with a soft smile and an armful of some takeout containers. “Mick—we had leftovers here. Why’d you—”

“Shut up. I got your favorite, so don’t give me that fuckin’ lip, ‘lright?” Mickey’s words seemed harsh, but the way his lips wore a soft smile made it known that it was all teasing.

Mickey made his way over to where Ian was sprawled out on the couch, setting the takeout containers onto the coffee table and pushing it closer so the redhead could reach it.

As he watched Ian wearily tear into the plastic bag, Mickey moved to set his keys onto the kitchen counter. “Got the rent stuff figured out too.” He said absentmindedly, as though it was no big deal. Mickey knew that Ian wasn’t going to react to it that way though.

“What did you do, Mick?” Ian asked slowly, eyes meeting his husband’s as he stopped opening the styrofoam container. “God, please tell me you didn’t tear that poor lady’s office down.”

Mickey groaned as he joined Ian on the couch, taking one of the styrofoam contains into his lap before kicking his boots up onto the coffee table. "Oh Jesus Christ—my husband has no faith in me. No, I didn't tear that woman's office apart. So relax and enjoy your food, 'kay Red?"

It was calm and quiet for a moment, the two of them eating their dinner in comfortable silence and listening to the storm outside as it began to pour. Mickey let out a soft sigh, knowing by the way Ian's eyebrows were knit together that his husband was still thinking about it.

"I just explained the situation to her, told her I'd get the rest of the money to her tomorrow. She said don't let it happen again. Happy?" Mickey explained as he reached over, stealing a french fry from Ian's container before leaning back against the leather of the couch.

Ian didn't object, instead leaning back with Mickey and chewing his food thoughtfully. "So what—that's it? How're you gonna come up with the rest of the money so quick?"

Mickey set the takeout container onto the coffee table as he swung his legs back down to the floor, fingers moving to untie the laces before toeing off his boots. "I called Frank. He's gonna let me work a quick shift at the Alibi tomorrow—should be enough to cover the difference."

Once his boots were off and on the floor, Mickey shifted in his spot on the couch to face Ian, laying one arm across the back of the couch and letting the other lay in his lap. "Now c'mon, stop being so worried and pissy at me. Please? I bought your favorite food and everything."

As much as Ian wanted to fight it, he couldn't help the soft smile that stretched across his lips as he took another bite of food. "Alright—fine. You're outta the doghouse f'now. But next time? Let me handle the money, alright?"

[sisitrip]

More Like Me, With You

Palate cleanser from some heavy. Don't know what this is, but it made me feel warm.

--------------------------------

Mickey’s key’s clatter against their door and Ian stretches on the couch, wiggling his toes in relief. Finally. A rare, full day apart from Mickey had reminded him of what it felt like to not have his husband at kissing distance.

What a shock. He’d hated it. 

He’s been askew in his skin all day and his mind sparked chaotic like so many pop rocks on a wet tongue. An empty apartment and being alone with his thoughts has never before, or now, been a good thing for him. 

Cold chapped and smiling, Mickey steps into the tropical heat of their apartment. Ian’s set up a trap house tailored to his husband’s tastes and he doesn’t feel guilty at all. The apartment was humidly redolent with dinner - a crock pot full of brisket, potatoes, and the veggie puree he’d snuck in. Cold beer was sitting in the refrigerator and various other items he knows Mickey loves are scattered around the apartment. He probably gets more out of doing these things for Mickey than Mickey does himself. It’s a poorly kept secret that he mainline’s Mickey’s happiness shamelessly.

“Ah fucking yesss,” Mickey hisses when he closes the door behind him and the warmth hits his face. “You’re getting all the blowjobs.”  

Ian laughs and drops his book on the coffee table. 

“That’s a pretty tall promise, husband.”

Mickey starts shedding his shoes and clothes as he walks over. 

“I mean that shit, husband. It’s jungle perfect in here,” Mickey says, finally stripped down to his boxers and tank top. He flops down onto Ian, pulling a laugh from him.

“We aim to please,” he chuckles, wrapping Mickey up in his arms. The cold clings stubbornly to his hair which makes Ian shiver in his own shorts and t-shirt. “How was it without me today?”

“You want a lie or the truth?” Mickey asks, burrowing. 

“The truth.”

“It sucked. Not the work, but the rig. That shit’s loud as fuck when you’re not in it.” 

Ian smiles and rubs Mickey between his shoulder blades. Loud is code for lonely. 

“Sorry I couldn’t be there. Lip rarely uses the emergency child care card.” 

Mickey snorts into his neck and hooks a leg over his thigh. 

“Fred, good?”

“Perfectly slobbery. He put applesauce in my hair.”

Mickey chuckles. “Fred put his favorite thing to eat on his favorite thing. That kid likes your hair as much as I do.” 

He hums and noses into Mickey’s hair, sniffing past the cold, smoke and city smells to find what he’s looking for. When he does, he inhales deeply. “Speaking of favorite things,” he murmurs and smiles when Mickey laughs.

“Fucking sniffer,” Mickey mumbles into his collar bone. “Repeat offender sniffer.” 

“Then stop being a human aromatherapy candle,” he teases, sniffing again. He stops when Mickey’s belly rumbles against his. 

“Tell me what you ate today and I better not hear Snickers once. Your last dentist appointment was a miracle.” 

“I had food.” Mickey shoves his hands under Ian’s back and hides his face. He can feel Mickey trying to cross his lying little fingers.

“Like?”

“Mountain Dew and a candy bar.” 

“What’d I say about the Snickers?” he faux gruffs. 

“I never said the word Snickers,” Mickey says with a sniff.

He grins, giving Mickey’s temple a peck. “You eat like a bachelor when I’m not around.”

“Then stop ditching me for Fred. He can’t even talk,” Mickey says, nipping his neck.

They lie quietly for a bit, listening to the muffled city sounds and wind pelting snow at their windows. Although the world is ordered now that he had Mickey close, he can’t quite let go of the discomfort he’d felt all day. It was like he wasn’t himself until Mickey was around. As a matter of fact, it’s been a long time since he’d thought about who he was without this soft, heaven-scented man in his arms.

“Mick?”

“Mmmm?”

“Did you feel like yourself today?”

Mickey makes a noise of confusion.

“Uh, kind of?”

“Explain please,” he says, stroking Mickey’s back.

“I mean, it’s having a routine, you know? If it gets out of whack, anyone would feel out of sorts or whatever.”

“Was it because I wasn’t there?” he asks softly.

Mickey pulls back, face comically sad. 

“My world caved in,” he begins, sober as a grave.

Ian flushes. Here it comes.

“I looked at the long devastation of the day and nearly gave up because you weren’t there.”

“Shut up,” he says, starting to laugh.

“When I thought the snow would drown me in the hole your absence made, I reached for a potion, nay!  An elixir.” Mickey bows his head solemnly. “Yes. A flagon of Mountain Dew. Without it, I might have perished.”

Ian’s laughing hard now. “You’re a dick.”

Mickey settles down, laughing too. 

“And you’re in your head again. Stop that shit. You’re Ian, and I’m Mickey even when we’re apart.” Mickey nuzzles into his neck. “But, truth? I feel more like me when we’re together.”

He kisses Mickey’s cheek. “Me too.” 

Mickey hums against his neck then stills when his stomach grumbles again. 

“Alright, are you ready to eat?” Ian asks, giving him a squeeze.

“Yeah.”

He makes as if to get up. “Come on then. I got brisket on.”

Mickey grumbles and sags his weight down fully, hiding his face in Ian’s shoulder.

“Wait a minute.”

“Why? Thought you were hungry.” 

“I am.”

“Then let me up so I can get us some food,” he laughs when Mickey doesn’t budge. “You need to eat, baby.”

Mickey kisses his neck and squeezes close.

“Need this more.”

He liquifies to absolute besotted goo, sliding his hands under Mickey’s tank and down into his shorts, squeezing softly. 

“You are several levels of sweet, Mickey Gallagher,” he whispers into his hair.

“It’s the Snickers,” Mickey mutters. 

Ian holds him tight, head and heart full of all the things that are completely true about Mickey, but would be brushed off by his husband as romantic nonsense. 

“Nope. The candy hasn’t got a damn thing to do with it,” he murmurs, accepting Mickey’s soft kiss.

“Yeah?” Mickey whispers. 

“Yeah.”

They curl into each other in the loving humidity of the life they’ve built together, needing nothing more than to be this close for a while. 

[mouseymilkovich]

When He Went To Juvie

Content Tags: mentions of drugs, juvie obviously, mentions Sammi and Chuckie (sorry), mentions of shitty home life, loss of sleep, lack of eating

masterlist | spotify playlist

This is a flashback in which Carl and the reader are minors - there is obvious no smut here! I always keep my banner on my posts tho just cus I don't want minors coming to my blog.

"What do you mean he's going away?"

You were in total disbelief. Your best friend... was going to juvie - actual juvie. He apparently got busted for drugs with stupid Sammi's stupid fucking kid.

Your parents were pretty furious that you'd demanded to see him - they said no. That didn't stop you though, no. You went right to Fiona. You begged her, pleaded with her.

"I need to go see him. Please. He's my best friend. My parents won't let me."

Well, Fiona loved you, she loved Carl, and she fucking hated your parents... so she gave in. You were allowed a five minute visit with him and that was it. After those five minutes, you couldn't see him again until the court date.

The two of you sat across from each other at the metal table. You couldn't read him, he was completely stone faced, he was showing no fear, absolutely none.

"Did they say how long you might be in for?" You asked, tilting your head curiously.

"Nah. I'm not worried though." He sounded so casual. How could he sound so fucking casual?

"You're not worried? Did I hear you correctly?" The disbelief is evident in your voice. When he shrugged, you were so close to jumping across the table and just smacking him. How in the hell was he not worried?

The five minutes was almost up... you hated the feeling that you might never see him again. Yeah, you were going to go to the court date with the Gallaghers, but you wouldn't actually get to see him. Sure, it was juvie, but your parents could forbid you from seeing him... well, not that that'd ever stopped you before.

"I'm gonna miss you." That's all you could manage out as the guards came to escort you out. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his face fall.

"I... I'll miss you too."

For the next while, you just paced anxiously while waiting for the court date. You couldn't focus on anything. Your best friend was going away for god only knew how long... you didn't know what you were going to do without him. Sure, you were also friends with Debbie, you had other friends too. But this was Carl, your best friend since kindergarten. The boy who tormented you in the most loving way possible. The boy whose family welcomed you into their home without second thought when you needed comfort. Most importantly, the boy you refused to admit you were in love with. Would you ever get the chance to tell him while he was put away? The whole situation made your head spin.

You could barely even eat or sleep, the time felt too slow because you couldn't occupy yourself with anything else.

Then it was finally here - the court date you'd long awaited.

You couldn't stop bouncing your leg as you sat with the Gallaghers, to the point where Lip put his hand on your knee and told you to just take a deep breath.

"We won't know anything for a while, okay, kiddo? We gotta see how this plays out. Then you can be an anxious little disaster all you want."

At least Lip always knew how to make you smile, even in a situation like this...

"All rise."

Chuckie's trial was first. You had to stop yourself from gagging as Sammi tried to make it seem like he was a sweet innocent kid, and that the Gallaghers were all to blame.

Then came Carl's trial. You had to admit, they tried to make him look like an upstanding citizen... and it sort of worked.

Well, it worked until he spoke. You could not believe what was coming out of his mouth. The whole family was in disbelief. Except Lip, who stifled a laugh.

And then it was set. Carl was going to juvie for a year.

But to you, that felt like a lifetime.

You looked so distraught, he looked completely satisfied with himself until he saw your face when he looked back.

[jessij1997]

Ian replies to Mickeys letter he received from Mexico. (The answer to @badassfetish s drabble for @galladrabbles. The prompt is forgiveness by @michellemisfit )

Mick,

It is the forgiveness that haunted me since I got the letter.

How could you forgive me?

I am the worst person on earth who has done the worst to you and it eats me up.

You are right. It should be me and you. But I can't. It's not about gay Jesus or other shit that's going on here. It's about me.

I'll let you down again, I know that. But I promise you I'll wait here. I'll wait until you're in my arms again and then I'll never let you go again.

Hope you come back.

Ian

[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.