#fiona gallagher fic

[svltzmans]

illicit affairs - f.g.

a/n: hi! here's a cute little blurb based on a request i got recently 😁 i'm kinda obsessed with this fiona x milkovich! reader concept

warnings: making out (i think that's it) (oh and also this is unedited) (but you probably knew that already lmao)

"mmmph, fiona," y/n slurs between kisses from her girlfriend. "you're so perfect."

fiona smiles against y/n's lips, not wasting any time pressing hers against them again.

fiona and y/n had decided to keep their relationship under wraps for a while, not wanting to create any commotion.

considering that fiona had never dated a woman before and that their brothers were dating, it would be quite a shock.

nonetheless, the chemistry between them was too strong, and became undeniable.

luckily, it had been possible for them to spend time together when the kids were at school or when fiona was able to sneak off.

fiona climbs on top of y/n, the kiss heating up by the second.

fiona and y/n are too captivated by each other for either of them to hear fiona's bedroom door opening.

"hey fiona, mickey and i are gonna go to- oh, what the fuck?"

it's ian, and he's standing in the doorway with his mouth agape.

behind him is mickey, y/n's younger brother, staring blankly at the scene in front of him.

fiona practically leaps off y/n's lap, knowing they had been caught.

"i, um, ian, i thought you were out for the day?" fiona mutters, flustered by the situation.

"you guys don't knock around here?" y/n jests, trying to provide comic relief. fiona giggles, but ian and mickey are still frozen in shock.

"okay hold on a minute, you two are... fucking? or what?" mickey speaks, gesturing with his hands as he does.

"um, more than that," fiona responds first, noticing that y/n appears slightly unnerved by her brother's reaction.

ian and mickey look at each other, both cracking a smile.

"we both thought we were the gay siblings, jesus," ian laughs, the rest of the room following.

"no better connection than a gallagher and a milkovich, i guess," mickey adds, looking at ian. "right ian?" he says, giving his boyfriend a gentle smack on the ass.

"at least we got a room, unlike you two freaks," fiona quips.

"at least we told you we were dating," ian teases, hoping for a reaction from his sister.

he gets one, with fiona standing and starting to chase him.

left alone in the room, mickey and y/n look at each other for a few seconds.

"y/n?" mickey breaks the silence first.

"yeah?"

"if ian's sister..."

"fiona," y/n interrupts.

"yeah, fiona, whatever, if she hurts you..."

"you don't have to be so protective, mickey. she is to me what ian is to you. you know that."

mickey softens, swallowing the rest of his words.

"fine. just, lock the door if you ever have her over to our house, would you?"

[luvzshy]

Love and Despair

Summary: Fiona Gallagher is in a self-destructive spiral, pushing everyone away—including the reader, who refuses to give up on her. Desperate to save her, the reader confronts Fiona at a bar, trying to break through the anger and pain. But Fiona lashes out, convinced she’s beyond saving, leaving them both teetering on the edge between love and despair.

Warnings: Angst, self-destructive behavior, emotional distress, mentions of alcohol abuse, toxic relationship dynamics.

Word Count: Approximately 1,500 words.

You watch as Fiona downs another shot, her hands trembling slightly as she slams the empty glass onto the counter. It’s the third one she’s had in the past ten minutes, and the haze in her eyes tells you she’s already far gone. The bar around you is filled with the din of voices, laughter, and the clinking of glasses, but all you can focus on is her—how she’s slipping through your fingers no matter how tightly you try to hold on.

“Fiona,” you murmur, stepping closer, hoping she’ll hear the plea in your voice. “Come on, let’s get out of here. I can take you home.”

She scoffs, the sound rough and bitter. “I’m fine, Y/N. Don’t need a babysitter.”

You reach out, your hand brushing against her arm, and for a moment, you think she might lean into the touch. But then she jerks away, her face twisting in frustration. It cuts deep, but you swallow the hurt, refusing to leave her like this.

“You’re not fine, Fi. Look at yourself,” you whisper, trying to keep your voice steady despite the lump forming in your throat. “You don’t have to go through this alone. Let me help you.”

Fiona’s laugh is humorless, filled with a bitterness that makes your chest ache. “Help me?” she repeats, her words slurred but sharp. “How the hell do you think you can help me, huh? You don’t know what it’s like to carry all this.”

Her words are like daggers, but you know they’re born from pain, from a place deeper than she’s willing to show you. You step closer again, refusing to back down. “I don’t know what it’s like, but I want to understand. I want to be there for you.”

Fiona’s eyes flare with something unreadable—anger, desperation, or maybe something else entirely. But then she shakes her head, stumbling back a step. “I don’t need you, Y/N. I don’t need anyone.”

The words pierce through you, and you feel your composure slipping. “You’re lying,” you say, barely louder than a whisper. “You’re hurting, Fiona. You can’t keep pretending like you’re okay. I can see through it.”

She glares at you, a tear slipping down her cheek that she quickly wipes away, her hand clumsy from the alcohol. “Just go. Go before I say something I can’t take back,” she mutters, turning away from you, shoulders hunched as if bracing against the world.

But you don’t leave. Instead, you take a deep breath and reach out once more, letting your fingers brush against her back. “I’m not leaving you. Not tonight, not ever. You’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not.”

For a moment, she seems to falter, her body trembling beneath your touch. But then she straightens, wiping her face roughly with the back of her hand. “You should,” she says, her voice cracking. “I’m not worth it, Y/N. I’m just gonna drag you down with me.”

Your heart aches at the rawness in her voice, the vulnerability she tries so hard to hide. You want to pull her into your arms, to tell her she’s wrong, that she’s worth everything to you. But instead, you let your hand fall away, realizing that no matter how much you want to save her, you can’t do it alone.

“I wish you could see yourself the way I do,” you say, your voice breaking. “But I’ll be here, Fiona. Even if you keep pushing me away, I’ll be here.”

She doesn’t respond, just stares into the empty glass in front of her, her jaw clenched and her eyes shining with unshed tears. And as you stand beside her, you realize that sometimes, love isn’t enough to fix what’s broken.

But that doesn’t mean you’re going to stop trying.

[t0yac1d]

Girl of My Dreams (F.Gallagher x F!Milkovich!Reader)

Summary: Fiona's first time with a woman, let alone a Milkovich.

Word Count: 1,353

Warnings: smut, oral (Fiona receiving), fingering, hair pulling, praise, degrading, teasing, face riding

You're so glad that the house was empty, no Gallaghers to walk in and disrupt you two. You already wanted to have her under you, to taste her and have her to yourself. The desire for her was strong from the beginning, but when you found out that she has never been in an actual relationship with a girl, let alone get eaten out by one, that desire and want for her became stronger. That want turned into a need, and that desire turned more into a craving for her. You just wanted to have her, even for a night and you finally got that.

You held her thighs apart, keeping them wide open while you slurped at her exposed cunt. Her pussy dripping from her own juices and now, your saliva. Your chin drenched in her essence and her fingers tangled in the roots of your hair while yours curled in her pussy and gripped the fat of her thighs.

Fiona's back arched off of her bed, toes curling as your fingers curled against that spot that made her scream.

The room was filled with her moans. whimpers, whines, airy breaths and your name. The way it rolled off of her tongue sounded so natural, the way her body reacted to your touch seemed like this was an everyday thing.

"You sound so pretty sayin' my name like that,"

She smiled at the praise and looked down, "Didn't think you were the kind of person to praise someone." she chuckled, "What do you wanna hear then, Fi? Want me to degrade you? Call you 'my slut' or something?" you asked, your fingers never stopping.

She clenched around your fingers at the suggestion, "Deadass?" you asked, stopping your movement, causing Fiona to let out a whine. "You're serious?" you asked again. She covered her face with her hands and nodded. You pulled your fingers out and licked them clean before climbing onto the bed and hovering over her.

"Move your hands, pretty."

She did as told and looked up at you with those eyes. Those beautiful, brown eyes.

"Were you serious?" you smirked, "Yeah...do you wanna try it?" she asked, you gave her a nod, "I'll try anything with you,"

She laughed, God her laugh was just so full and happy, "You're so corny!"

You left a trail of kisses down her body, "Shut up," you muttered as you made your way back down between her legs.

"You know, for the record, I didn't take you for one to like being degraded." you mentioned, flicking her clit with your tongue.

She moaned, and pushed your head down, "But I'm glad I know now,"

You continued to talk as you ate her out, the vibrations of your words on her pussy sent shivers throughout her body.

She didn't mind that you were talking, but God, she just wanted you to call her names while praising her. You guys can have a conversation any other time.

"Reader."

"Pretty."

She smiled at the name, "Just eat me out, we can talk normally after."

"Impatient much?" you mumbled, sitting up, resting your hands on her thighs. Fiona whined and reached out for your hands, trying to move them between her legs.

"Why? Please, don't do this right now." she panted, "Don't do what? Use your words, bitch."

"Don't tease right now."

You chuckled and hovered over the brunette, your arm wrapping around her waist as you switched positions.

You lied on your back and had Fiona in your lap. Her hands rested on your chest and yours rested on her waist and thigh.

"Why not?" you asked, "Please? Don't tease right now, please?" she begged. You pretended to think for a moment, "Nah. If you want to cum, do it yourself."

"You mean like ride you or something?" she asked, "I mean, do it yourself. I don't do anything for bitches who act bratty."

Fiona had a feeling in her core now, she liked hearing you talk to her like this. Degrading and mean. She didn't think she'd like being called a bitch. She usually doesn't like being called a bitch by anyone, but it felt different coming out of your mouth.

But the cherry on top, was the way you looked at her when you did. Especially now, with you under her calling her names. She could honestly cum right then and there from your words alone.

Fiona, very nervously, crawled her way up your body and hovered over your face. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Ride." you bluntly stated.

"Ride your face? What if I hurt you or something?" she asked, "You won't hurt me."

"But what if I do?"

"You won't."

"What if I do though?"

"If you don't want to cum then I'll leave."

"Okay! Okay!"

Fiona leveled her pussy just over your mouth, not on it, but just ghosting it.

"Fi."

"..Yeah?"

"Sit."

She sighed, she really didn't want to take that chance of hurting you. She didn't want to hurt you at all.

You grabbed her hips and pulled her down on your face. Your mouth was open, and you were lapping at her pussy like you were starved.

She held herself up against the wall behind her bed and her hips bucked on your face. Her clit would rub against the tip of your nose every now and then.

"I- fuck I thought you didn't do anything for "bitches who act bratty" or are you just a liar?" she asked.

"I'm many things, Fi. But a liar, I ain't." the more you spoke the louder she moaned. Your words sent vibrations through her cunt and throughout her whole body.

"Plus, you're the kind of brat whose too dumb to do shit on her own." you degraded. The dirty words you spewed at her made Fiona's eyes roll to the back of her head.

You licked, sucked and flicked her clit with your tongue as she rode your face. Her thighs clenched around your head and her body tremble when she felt herself cumming all over your tongue, mouth and chin.

She rested on top of you for a moment, you rubbed her back and thighs, letting her take her time. You didn't mind staying in between her legs.

After she caught her breath, she moved from on top of your face and sat in your lap. You sat up and oh my god you looked so fucking sexy.

The way your eyes were still low, evidently filled with lust, your droopy smile, your hair was a mess and you had her cum and juices on your chin. You grabbed a tissue from the nightstand and wiped the spots on your chin that you couldn't easily lick off.

Fiona stared at your shirt and played with the hem of it. "You want it?"

"Really?" she asked, hesitant to say 'yes'. She didn't want to ransack you of your clothes just yet. "Yeah, don't worry, I got another under here."

This has been one of the first times Fiona has felt truly happy and at peace with a person. Usually everything goes downhill for her, but ever since she's met you and became great friends with you, her life brightened up.

It's been around an hour or two, the two of you were in the midst of a conversation that you didn't hear the front door open and shut close. You were sitting with your back up against the wall with Fiona sitting between your legs and her back against your chest. She wore your shirt and the two of you passed as cigarette between each other.

"Fi', you don't mind if Mickey.." Ian trailed off as he saw his sister, who was naked waste down, cuddling with his boyfriend's sister.

"Did she say anything?" Mickey shouted, walking up the stairs, Ian quickly closed the door before Mickey could peak in. "She's uh naked."

"So? Move, bitch." Mickey opened the door and saw the scene, "Fucking Gallaghers." he chuckled. Walking over to the two of you. He sat next to you and took the cigarette from you. "Literally, fucking the Gallaghers."

[thelostmagicians]

Unlucky | Lip Gallagher

Summary: Lip Gallagher has a shitty life, but he still has a chance of a happy future with you. [2.4k]

Fluff, comfort, slight angst, insecure Lip

♡

Lip Gallagher has always considered himself unlucky for as long as he could remember. If you asked him to describe his life in five words he’d use shitty, really shitty, and extremely shitty.  

He was dealt a crappy hand since the beginning not standing a fighting chance even as a kid. 

There was always so much crap to deal with, whether it was bills that needed to be paid, kids that need to be taken care of, or anything dealing with Frank and Monica, sometimes he felt as if the weight of the world was resting on his chest and the only breath he’d be able to take peacefully would be his final one. He’s grateful for all the help he has because everyone pulls their weight as much as they can, but sometimes he just wishes life was just a little bit kinder to him. He wishes that he was able to do something with his high IQ, make something of himself and finally get out of this hell hole, but that didn’t roll over so well. But just as he was slowly losing hope the universe finally took pity on him and gave him you, so now he’s hanging onto you with everything he’s got. 

_

It’s quiet in the Gallagher household when Lip shuffles out of bed. He can’t remember the last time he was able to sleep past 7am, so when he wakes up to birds chirping at 9am instead of the usual yelling and chaos, he’s surprised and even a little scared. He makes his way towards the bathroom getting ready to fight whoever is next in line, but finds it empty and even clean. He’s shuffling around, looking through doors to find a sense of life in his otherwise loud home when he hears a squeal from the backyard. He doesn’t think twice before grabbing a nearby bat and hurtling through the backdoor towards the pool, but he stops once he sees the atmosphere is anything, but fearful. Frannie is being tossed back and forth between Carl and Mickey in the pool, Fiona and Ian are chasing Liam with the garden hose and Debbie is bringing in watered down lemonade from the kitchen. 

He has no idea what caused this change of pace, but he isn’t mad about it. Just as he’s about to make himself known, he feels a soft touch caressing his back. 

“Hey baby,” you whisper, brushing your lips against his neck. 

He turns his head at your sweet voice finally fully awakening his sleepy trance. Lip tugs you towards him by the belt loops of your, too short, cut off shorts and breathes into your neck. Hands slowly creeping down towards your ass to grab and pet, not socially acceptable in front of family, but he couldn’t care less. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” he rasps into the valley of your chest, slightly picking you up to hug you closer. “What’s going on out here?”

“Thought everyone could use a day off especially in this heat, so Debs and I planned a pool party. Wanna join me?”

He pulls back on slightly to finally get a look at your face, your eyes are kind and happy followed by a mischievous smile. 

“Sure, let me get my trunks on and I’ll be down soon.” You reward him with a soft peck on his chapped lips and an arm squeeze before moving out of his hold and grabbing some leftover toast. 

The day goes by without a hitch. Everyone enjoys the much deserved break filled with laughter, junk food, and only a few fights. You’re nearly on top of Lip as you cuddle as close as you can basking in the happiness before you get ready to go out. There are only a handful of days that you and Lip both get off at the same time, so any day given is taken as a golden opportunity to spend some time together, leaving your worries at home. You plant a small peck to Lip’s cheek before untangling yourself from his hold as he answers the ringing phone. 

You don’t hear much of the conversation, just faint hmms of acknowledgement as you're flying past rooms trying to get ready as fast as you can. You’re struggling with your heels as Lip comes over and steadies you, your smile meeting with his frown.

“Sweetheart, they called me in to cover someone else’s shift and you know I hate to do this, but they’re offering me time and half..” he trails off.

A quick look of disappointment flashes on your face, before you cover it up with a reassuring look. You’re disappointed, sure, but not at Lip. Never at Lip. Just the shitty circumstances that forces the both of you to work as much as you can just to make ends meet.  

“It’s okay, I get it. We can always reschedule, don’t worry about it.” You pull him in and hold on to his waist hoping to ease his guilt, but your efforts go to waste as his eyebrows stay furrowed and his frown deepens. 

“I’ll make it up to you, I swear it,” Lip murmurs against your lips before squeezing your arm and letting you go. 

You watch him leave, slowly pulling off your heels and plopping yourself on the old couch, sighing already missing Lip. Your eyes shift trying to think of things to do now that your night opened up, but your mind keeps drifting back to Lip. You had eaten dinner earlier with everyone, skipping out on dessert and opting to get your fill when you go out, but now that plans have changed you were now missing both your boyfriend and something sweet to nibble on.

You quickly change out of your clothes and put on a pair of old shorts before deciding to make a batch of brownies. Lip works hard and if you guys couldn’t go out for dessert tonight, then you were going to bring dessert to him. 

He’s halfway through his shift when he spots you coming in, hands holding a tupperware to your chest. 

“Honey, what are you doing down here,” he shouts from across the room.

“Wanted to spend some time with you before I leave for my shift. I made some brownies since we missed dessert, care to join me?” you plead hopefully.

Lip’s heart aches with love and a lot of guilt. He can’t believe you would go through all that trouble just to see him. He calls out to say he’s taking his break before leading you to a secluded corner. 

“I’m really sorry about today,” he hugs you from behind swaying back and forth, mouth opening occasionally as you feed him a chunk of the sweet treat. 

You squeeze his wrist in response, “s’lright you can’t help it. I just like spending time with you.”

He smiles softly for the first time that night, stress immediately leaving his body. “Though, I love that you did all this for me, I don’t love the idea that you were walking alone this late at night.”

“Guess I’ll have to keep you company until you can walk me home then,” you compromise. 

Lip’s shift goes by somewhat fast now that you’re here to keep him company. He’ll leave his station sporadically to check up on you and to keep you from falling asleep. He’s in the final stretch now, only 30 more minutes before you get to go home and fall asleep holding each other, after a long day. He looks over hoping to catch your eye and send you a smile when he feels his face slowly morphing into a glare. A glare aimed at the guy standing way too close to you, a guy whose intentions go beyond a friendly conversation, and a guy who on paper was everything you deserved, but Lip couldn’t be. 

You finally glance at Lip sending a small wave and smile as you keep nodding along to the fucker next to you. He had fluffy brown hair and honestly looked quite plain if it wasn’t for the gleaming rolex on his wrist and the shiny Gucci emblem on his belt. He was a rich kid, probably from the nearby university, wasting away mommy and daddy’s money, chatting up pretty girls and sweeping them off their feet with his money. Lip’s never felt insecure about your relationship, you never gave him a reason too, but once he compares his ratty jeans and stained shirt to the pristine polo of Richie Rich he can’t help but wonder if he’s good enough for you when you can do so much better.

_

Lip was struggling. He never learned how to tie a tie before and now that the time has come, he’s racking his brain trying to get the knot perfect. He knew you couldn’t care less about a stupid tie, you were anything but superficial, but since that dreaded night when he witnessed you being chatted up by Richie Rich, Lip’s come to the conclusion that he was going to try his hardest to give you the perfect life. 

When Lip proposed going up to the north side for dinner, you were shocked. You’ve been there a few times mostly on walks or running errands, but you’ve never been there to spend actual money considering neither of you could afford it. The most you and Lip would do is windowshop and daydream about the things you would buy if you had the money, before being chased off by the glaring sales people.

He picks you up at your door, pecking your cheek softly and telling you how beautiful you look. He takes your hand and leads you to the borrowed car before pulling out an expensive bouquet from the backseat. Your hands flatter as you mutter a quiet thanks. You’re a little confused at the grand gesture since Lip’s never gotten you flowers before, at least not without reason. He’s gotten you flowers exactly four times since he’s known you: the first on your first date, the second for your graduation, and the last two times for your anniversary. And all those times the flowers were below 5 bucks, something he picked up from the corner store. But the bouquet he gave you now had to be worth at least a day’s salary, you and Lip had a mutual understanding since the start that since money was scarce you wouldn’t spend it on materialistic things for each other, but lately it seems like he forgot that promise. He’s been taking you out to eat nearly everyday, always putting money down and never letting you pay, surprising you with little gifts, but worst of all he’s been running himself haggard, taking up as many shifts as he possibly could. 

He notices your quiet demeanor as he starts driving, “You okay, baby?”

“Yeah, I just…” you hesitate, not wanting to offend him. “I’m grateful for all of this Lip, really I am, I love everything you’ve gotten me, but I’m confused about where you’re getting all the money from and why you’re doing all this in the first place.”

Lip tightens his grip on the wheel, “Isn’t this what you want? Isn’t this what all girls want?” Lip scoffs the memory of Richie Rich slowly coming into picture. 

“I don’t understand what changed, everything was fine before, why are you spending money you don’t have? You don’t think I know that you’re working yourself to death trying to afford this shit?” Your voice raises in annoyance. 

“Yeah, well that’s my problem, it’s none of your concern how I get all this as long as you get it.”

“It is when you’re burning money on materials that won’t even last the year instead of investing in our future.”

Lip pulls to stop as the words leave your mouth. “Our future?” He asks. 

You lick your lips, trying to think of a way to backtrack but his eyes plead with you to tell the truth. “Yeah, our future. You know when we eventually move out, get a place of our own and have a kid or two?”

Lip smiles at the thought, “You want all that with me?”

You nod incredulously, “What did you think this was you idiot? That we were just playing boyfriend/girlfriend? Look I appreciate all these gestures, but the way I see it you’re burning 50 bucks on flowers that are gonna wither in a week instead of spending that money on something like our future house.”

Lip cups your chin in endearment before pulling you in for a quick kiss. “I’m sorry, I let everything get away from me.” He huffs in frustration before letting your chin go and clenching his fists. “It’s just when you visited me at work a few weeks back you were talking to this guy. This very rich guy who… I don’t know… I know you aren’t like that, but I couldn’t help but think this is all I’ll be able to offer you, at least right now. I will never be able to whisk you away on a private jet or buy diamonds just cause.”

You giggle as you hold his face in your soft hands, his head tilting to lean into your palm. “Lip Gallager, for someone with an insanely high IQ, you are so incredibly stupid, ” He huffs out a laugh in embarrassment as you continue, “That guy, that fool was annoying as fuck. I was just trying to get him off my back. And not to mention incredibly fucking stupid. Everything that was coming out of his mouth made me cringe and thank the stars that you’re nothing like him.”

He kisses your palm before pulling you into another kiss. “Can we skip the fancy restaurant now?” you ask as he presses kisses to your pouty lips. 

“Where do you wanna go instead?”

“Family dinner, and then out for ice cream?” you suggest. He nods before putting the car back in drive. 

_

Lip Gallagher was all sorts of fucked up. But somehow in his fucked up life, he managed to find you, his light at the end of a dark, narrow, and gloomy tunnel and he thinks, maybe, he isn’t so unlucky after all.

[m4ndysk4nkovich]

i know some people may see this and disagree, but honestly, i don’t care- lip was not at all at fault for not calling the cops on kash and some people need to stop acting like he was evil for not doing so. while i do think he should’ve, my main issue with it is that we always acknowledge that ian was a child at the time, but never seem to mention lip’s only a year older. the person who should’ve called the cops was linda, the adult who instead of placing the blame on kash, placed it on ian. and with ned, it should’ve been fiona or jimmy-steve, also adults, and in fiona’s case, an adult who had a parental role in ian’s life (even if she wasn’t yet legal guardian) and instead brushed the situation off as “just sex” and dumbed it down to it all being about ned being gay. lip knew it was wrong and was extremely upset both times it happened, and expressed his guilt for not calling the cops on kash. would it have been good if lip had called and kash was arrested? absolutely. but do i think he was obligated to as a child and bad for not calling? no. that should’ve never happened in the first place and while i understand where people are coming from when they express their disappointment with lip for not doing anything about it, i still don’t feel like lip was the one who should’ve been forced to handle that situation. leave that to the adults.

[izzyspussy]

i also like picturing fiona, v, and ian sitting at the kitchen table for a lil coffee break after the chaos of seeing everyone else but mickey out of the house and just comfortably chatting, and it's still kind of early on in the phase of the whole extended household knowing about ian-and-mickey so when mickey comes downstairs into the front room in the undershirt and threadbare sweats he went to bed in, one or both of the women kind of wrinkle their nose at him.

ian glares and pouts playfully but there's a barely-there shadow of real offense underneath. and at this point they've all seen mickey be sweet to ian, seen the way he looks at him, and mickey's been. well, helpful-ish around the house despite hogging the bathroom and the oj lmao. so one or the other woman admits okay she kind of gets it now. but all of that is stuff you grow into in a relationship.

"i just can't imagine what you first saw in him," she says.

ian grins. the exchange has taken like ten seconds, and what with mickey still being half asleep and shuffling his way across the other room he hasn't heard any of it.

"hey, mick," ian greets him as soon as he steps through into the kitchen. in the tiny breath between ian's first and second sentence, mickey halts and narrows his eyes, correctly identifying ian's overly peppy tone as ominous. "turn around."

mickey's too asleep (*cough* and too whipped) to put up a big fuss about it, so he just narrows his eyes further into a suspicious glare and then does what ian wants.

so there's mickey in the doorway. bedhead. his strong shoulders and grabbable waist accentuated by his black undershirt. the perky, full shape of his individual ass cheeks clearly apparent under the thin knit of his sleep pants. the pink flush creeping down the back of his neck as he starts to wake up and realize that ian is blatantly checking him out in front of the other two and probably showing him off to them.

ian doesn't need to ask if that answers the question. he just thanks mickey with all the false innocence a "sweet" baby brother can muster and goes back to his coffee, all three of the others grumbling about his smug face.

[alchely]

I wish at least one of Mickey's older brothers had been a more prominent character for a single (silly) reason.

Imagine Fiona hearing about all the "fucking fantastic" sex the Milkoviches are having with her brothers and later on with her sister (she's still there when it happens,shut up,this is an au) and she just decides to "try them out" for herself once. Idk it's probably a throwaway one-night stand or something,but there's a scene of her stumbling away from the encounter dazed as hell from how good it was lol.

And it's just...the Milkovich and the Gallaghers are really compatible ok?

[atthedugouts]

Remember when I said I wanted Iggy to help dig up Monica's grave? No? Anyways, enjoy!

The Gallaghers meet Mickey and Iggy outside the graveyard.

“Are you sure you guys want to do this?” Mickey asks.

“What and have you guys steal the pound of drugs?” Lip asks.

“They’d probably dig up the wrong grave,” Fiona states.

“I think they can handle digging up Monica’s grave,” Ian defends.

“Your boyfriend has your own name spelled wrong,” Fiona says.

Mickey rolls his eyes. After all these years Fiona still takes any opportunity to talk down about him and his family.

“He’d probably dig up a Megan Gilbert or something,” Fiona continued.

“Haha,” Mickey says sarcastically to divert the conversation. “Get the shit Iggy.”

Iggy opens the trunk and reveals a whole collection of shovels.

“Why do you have so many shovels?” Debbie asks.

“For my job,” Iggys says, like she should know.

“Are you a grave robber?” Carl asks.

“No, I work for a non-profit that organizes groups to plant trees and shit all across the city,” Iggy explains.

“That’s what you do?” Mickey asks, surprised.

“You don’t know what your brother’s job is?” Ian asks his boyfriend in disbelief.

“Fuck you,” Mickey responds. “Like you know what everyone in your family does for money?”

“Uh, yeah I do,” Ian answers.

“You really work for an environmental non profit?” Debbie asks as she takes the shovel from Iggy.

“Yeah, when I got out of Juvie, what, like seven years ago? I had to do like 300 hours of community service. My PO hooked me up with this group and I liked all the digging you know. I stayed and somehow made it on to their payroll,” Iggy shrugs. “I lead rich teens around the city and show them how to plant trees and they get something on their stupid resumes which make their lonely pill addicted moms grateful and then I get laid.”

“Yeah that sounds right,” Lip says after a moment of stunned silence from the rest of the group.

“All right gang,” Fiona says, grabbing a shovel from the trunk. “Let’s dig up a dead mom.”

[mother-of-houseplants-2]

fiona gallagher // "oldest" by brooke alexx

[ange1sang]

sweetface, angelface

2.2k words

; canon compliant/post season 11, domestic fluff, sibling love, gallavich, fiona and ian + fiona and mickey, past regrets, mild hurt/comfort but mostly just sweet

Ian and Mickey's West Side apartment is silent when Fiona lets herself in with the spare key she borrowed from Lip. The quiet is thick in a way that it never was back in the Gallagher house - quiet always meant something terrible had happened, and rarely lasted more than a minute or two in their neighbourhood - and Fiona has to pause to take it in with a deep breath.

Lip had warned her that her visit was poorly timed. Ian had been climbing up the mental steps towards another high which had resulted in a quick and easy adjustment of his medication, and while Ian was resilient and experienced after so many years of learning the ins and outs of being bipolar, it had still left him sleepy and distant as his brain got used to the change in chemicals. He'd been off work for half a week - a long time for someone finding their footing in the real world - and Mickey had taken the past couple of days off to take care of his husband, something that had taken Fiona back to Ian's first depressive episode as soon as Lip had told her. Mickey's determination to take care of Ian, his hardheaded love for her little brother, and the fear in his eyes as he rambled about the sudden shift in Ian's behaviour.

She'd been less than supportive back then, knowing that Ian needed real treatment more than he needed love in that moment, but hearing now how Mickey's determination has persisted for years longer than they'd ever expected had made her heart ache.

Ian had always been her baby. Since that first night Frank left her and her only siblings at the time out on the street and she'd carried a feverish Ian and teary Lip to the clinic he'd been her baby. Lip was the second oldest, a role that came with signifcantly less responsibility but still enough of it for him to be her rock through those first few years of playing house all by herself. But for the years before Debbie was born Ian had been the youngest, the one who needed the most care, and even after their other siblings were born and Ian became Lip's best friend instead of just his little brother, the need to take care of him had lingered for Fiona.

It didn't help that Ian was so sweet and kind, always wearing his heart on his sleeve in a way that Fiona and Lip never did. He was vulnerable, and even when he kept his aches and pains to himself it was obvious when he was hurt. She wanted, always had wanted, to shelter him from as much as she could, even when she had too much on her plate to know his whereabouts or the names of kids bothering him at school.

Despite the desire to keep him safe, Fiona knew that he had slipped through the cracks more often than his siblings had. Maybe it was the sweet smile he gave her when she asked if he was alright, maybe it was the resilience that shone through when he started navigating his sexuality by himself, maybe it was his dreams of the army and the tough guy exterior he put on whenever he talked about West Point. Whatever the reason, he'd been left behind when she fussed over Lip being in school, when Debbie got pregnant, when Carl came back from juvie. He was the apple of her eye, but he was so meek sometimes that it was easy to focus on the rest of the kids and what they needed from her.

She knows now that she could've done more. That she should've been glad Ian was with Mickey instead of some guy who was old enough to be his father, who there'd been far too many of without any of them stopping to question what the hell those men were doing with their brother. She should have fought to bring him home when he ran off to the army the same way she fought to bring Lip home after he dropped out, and she should've done more than turn a blind eye when he started working at clubs and came home skinny, high out of his mind with eyeliner still smeared around his lashline. She should've carried him to safety, the same way she did that night when it was just the three of them alone in the world for the first time. There was no way she could have done a perfect job at raising all five of the kids - she knows that too - but her heart aches when she thinks of the times Ian slipped through all of their fingers without a safety net to catch him.

She owes Ian, forever her little brother and the only sibling she calls 'sweetface', for not trying to understand him better. For not trying harder to love the only boyfriend who had been there through the first highs and lows without ever turning his back on him. Ian did okay even without those things, she can see as much as she looks around the little apartment. The family photos in frames on the TV stand, the taupe couch with only one stain, the coffeetable with a half-full ashtray she recognises from their old home. He did okay because, despite being a softer kid than any of them had the courage to be, he was strong. She smiles when she spots a wedding picture hung above the TV, Ian and Mickey holding each other's faces like the rest of the world had fallen away at that moment. She wishes she'd been there, will likely wish as much for the rest of her life, but she's here now and has to hope that's enough.

The clattering of dishes pulls her out of her thoughts. She can hear coffee being put to brew, the soft shuffle of socked feet coming from the kitchen. She blinks back the dull ache in her chest and makes her way to the source of the noise, smiling when she sees Mickey leaning against the counter, an unlit cigarette between his lips as he puts two Pop-Tarts in the toaster. He startles at her presence but smiles as soon as he sees her.

"Hey Fi," he greets, setting aside his cigarette and allowing her to hug him hello without a struggle, which is a win for Fiona even if he doesn't really return the touch. He's softer in their new environment she realises, more relaxed than he ever was when he was in the same neighbourhood as his family. She pulls back and gives his arm a squeeze, smiling warmly at the sight of the wedding ring on his finger.

"Hi angelface," she says. Mickey immediately turns to the doorway, looking for something before he freezes and turns his attention back to Fiona, brows drawn tight together as he looks her up and down.

"Thought you were talking to Ian," he mumbles, pulling away from her touch as though to get a better look at her. "Where the fuck did that come from?"

Fiona can't help but laugh, shrugging off her jacket and draping it over the back of one of the chairs at their kitchen table.

"Ian's always been sweetface," she says, watching how Mickey's expression softens as she says that. "I was thinkin' the whole way over that you ought to have a nickname too."

"Y'know, I was doin' fine without one," Mickey grumbles, but the furrow between his brows has disappeared, a half-amused smirk on his lips.

"Count yourself lucky you didn't get one the day he started lookin' at you like you hung the moon and fucking stars," she jokes, which makes him snicker. She thinks back to the days Ian and Mickey were just teenagers wrapped around each other's little fingers, smiling little smiles that they only shared with each other and falling asleep side by side in whatever cramped space was available to them, be it Ian's childhood bed or the worn and torn Gallagher couch. Mickey had been the farthest thing from an angel at the time and he's still pretty far off, but if she could go back she'd have started calling him angelface the second he proved he was in it for the long haul. She takes a deep breath and perches on the edge of the table. "How's he been?"

"Good," Mickey says quickly, not dismissively but confidently, his blue eyes fond as he glances towards the doorway again. "Sleepin' a lot but he's eating and keeping up a routine and all that shit. He"– Mickey hesitates here, eyes darting back and forth between Fiona's face and the floor as a flush climbs his cheeks. –"works real fuckin' hard, y'know? He doesn't want anyone to worry, not like when we were kids. He knows his shit and he fuckin'... He works hard."

Fiona smiles. She does know. Ian's never been half-hearted in anything he cares about, and hearing that he cares about taking care of himself soothes some of the worry that's always going to nag at her, wondering if he's got his head above water.

"Helps that he's got you," she says, giving Mickey some of the long overdue credit she never let him have before. Mickey rolls his eyes and his fingers twitch like he's going to flip her off but ultimately he just pulls out three mugs to pour coffee into. She smiles, recalling how he was with Mandy, bickering and cussing back and forth but always reserving a special kind of sweetness for each other that they didn't share with anyone else in their family. Fiona knows better than anyone that siblings can't be replaced, but him offering her a little of the friendliness he used to reserve for his little sister makes her happy.

"Fi."

Ian's voice, slow and rough with sleep, breaks the comfortable silence in the kitchen. Fiona jumps up and launches herself at her little brother in a tight hug, smiling into his shoulder when he wraps his arms around her.

"I didn't know you were coming over," he mumbles, tucking his face down into her shoulder the same way he used to do back when they were the same height. He has to bend his neck down to do it now, making himself smaller as she brings a hand up to run her fingers through his curls.

"Lip called after you went to sleep, didn't wanna wake you," Mickey explains, voice soft.

Fiona grins as she pulls away from him, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

"Hey, sweetface," she murmurs, pinching his cheek and pulling a whine from Ian. "Forgot how tall you are."

"You were gone for too long," he replies, but there's no hard feelings in his voice. She still thinks about the day she left, visiting him in prison and squeezing his hands tight so she wouldn't forget the warmth of his palms once she let go. His smile, supportive and sad and excited all at once had reflected all of her own feelings and tied her stomach in knots but also grounded her, reminding her that her family would always be here for her to come home to. She kisses his cheek again even though this too makes him whine before finally letting him go.

"Now that you got your own place I'll visit more often," she reassures him. Through the bleary, sleepy expression on his face Ian smiles.

"You better," he jokes, before stepping over to kiss Mickey's cheek. She watches them exchange gentle 'good morning's, Mickey's hand trailing up and down Ian's spine in a way that's so casual, so clearly the norm for them, that she has to look away before she gets teary-eyed.

They sit around the kitchen table, coffee mugs and Pop-Tarts and pills and cigarettes all carefully laid out in front of them. Seeing them go about their lives with her there, mumbling about bills and what they dreamt last night and whether or not the movie they've been wanting to watch will be easy to pirate, is the best gift she's ever received. Lip has his own family, Carl has a great job, Debbie is a better mother than Monica ever dreamed of being, Liam is cleverer than any of them and Ian is doing well. Better than well, even after everything he's been through, after being let down in ways Fiona will never be able to forget. They all did good with what they were given, but it's Ian's life - cozy and safe and domestic - that makes her happiest.

"You're never gonna guess what she fuckin' called me, man," Mickey says suddenly, drawing Fiona's attention back to the present. Ian raises an eyebrow and turns his attention to his big sister, already smiling before she says anything.

"You're sweetface, only makes sense if he's angelface," she defends the sappy nickname, giggling when Ian laughs out loud. Mickey is only slightly less amused, blushing when Ian reaches out to hold his hand.

"Makes sense to me, Mick," he says, which has his husband rolling his eyes.

"Course you'd side with her, fuckin' payback for me siding with Debbie one time, huh?" he mutters, which brings forth another round of teasing from Ian. Fiona listens to them and makes a mental note to ask about Mickey and Debbie later. For now she just steeps in the peace of their apartment, of the life they've carved out for themselves, and breathes a sigh of relief.

[svltzmans]

closer - f.g.

warnings: 18+ smut, weed smoking, fiona and reader are both high but everything is 100000% consensual, they are also not in an established relationship, but they might be after this 🫢, i can't tell if this is bad or not :(

y/n stares intently as fiona lights a blunt, inhaling sharply and turning away to blow out the resulting smoke.

"want some?" fiona gestures to y/n, clearing her throat.

"i've never tried it. i kinda want to though," y/n responds tentatively, trying to gauge fiona's reaction.

y/n and fiona had been pretty close friends for a while, but y/n had never cared to try smoking, despite fiona's own interest in it.

"wait, this is your first time? am i about to take your weed virginity?" fiona laughs, inhaling more of the blunt.

"you'll have to teach me how, though," y/n laughs back, feeling clueless.

fiona inches closer to y/n, flicking her lighter.

she gingerly sets the blunt between y/n's lips, lighting it for her.

"now just take a deep breath in," fiona instructs, watching y/n's mouth closely.

y/n exhales and coughs, laughing at her own inexperience.

"there you go," fiona praises, sending a shiver down y/n's spine.

"so, what do we do now, truth or dare?" y/n jokes, feeling her body relax.

"yeah, that sounds mature," fiona teases.

"you go first. truth or dare?"

"truth, but this is dumb."

"have you ever had sex with a girl?"

fiona freezes momentarily. sexuality hadn't been a conversation between her and y/n before.

"uh, yeah," fiona mutters, eyes heavy as they analyze y/n's reaction.

"hmm. wouldn't have guessed," y/n laughs, feeling herself blush.

"what's that supposed to mean? have you?" fiona quips, laughing alongside y/n.

"of course i have, women are beautiful," y/n effortlessly responds, her nerves melting away.

"ain't that the truth."

fiona lights the blunt again, taking another sizeable hit.

"your turn. truth or dare, y/n?"

"truth."

"boring", fiona teases, earning a feigned look of disapproval from y/n.

when y/n makes eye contact with fiona, it feels like the world slows down. y/n isn't sure if it's the weed or her attraction to the woman in front of her.

"have you ever thought about having sex with me?"

fiona knows she's being bold, but she can't help herself. she wanted to know, the coil in her stomach growing at the thought of y/n seeing her in such a way.

y/n can't help but quietly laugh at the sudden twist in the conversation, but she knows she can't get out of answering the question.

"i don't know, maybe," y/n practically whispers, knowing that she had just practically admitted to her less-than-platonic thoughts about her friend.

the pair both giggle at y/n's response, unable to contain themselves. somehow, the situation didn't feel awkward.

"have you actually?" fiona questions after she manages to stop her laughter.

y/n simply nods, suddenly feeling her nerves twisting in her chest.

"'cause i think about eating you out all the time."

for a while, y/n just stares at fiona. she's awestruck by her confession, yet turned on by the thought of it.

"you in there, y/n?" fiona waves in front of y/n's face, trying to bring her out of her haze.

"can i kiss you?"

fiona doesn't even take the time to respond before pulling y/n in for a kiss.

she pulls y/n into her lap, intoxicated by the way her body feels in her hands.

y/n wraps her arms around fiona's neck, pulling her even closer.

fiona pulls away, throwing her head back to move her hair aside.

she gives y/n a gentle push, encouraging her to lay on her back.

"i'm gonna show you what i was thinking about. that okay?"

y/n frantically nods, anticipation building in every inch of her body.

fiona pulls y/n's pants down, discarding them across the room.

she can't help but stare at y/n's entire lower half, admiring how effortlessly beautiful she looked.

she rests on her stomach on the end of the bed, hovering over y/n's legs.

"you still okay?"

"never been better," y/n reassures, giving fiona the green light.

fiona plants a tentative kiss on y/n's thigh, earning a content hum.

she continues to pepper y/n's legs in kisses, making her way higher as she goes.

y/n felt like she must be in heaven.

admittedly, she had thought about this a lot.

"stop teasing me, fi," she mutters, feeling more desperate with every touch from fiona.

without a word, fiona kisses y/n's clit before moving her tongue, instantly making y/n's back arch.

"even sweeter than i thought you'd be," fiona coos, resting her hands on y/n's hips.

the speed of fiona's tongue makes y/n dizzy, a mix of the pleasure and her ongoing high bringing her to cloud nine.

she instinctively brings her hand to her mouth to keep quiet, which only gets harder with fiona's relentlessness.

fiona pulls away, staring into y/n's eyes.

"none of that. wanna hear how good this feels," she mutters against y/n before continuing as if she had never stopped.

y/n lets herself go then, letting moans and whines escape from her lips.

"so good, fi. feels so good," she manages to say, her hand laced in fiona's hair.

fiona feels like she might be enjoying herself even more than y/n is. she squeezes y/n's hips and pulls her even closer, although it doesn't feel close enough. fiona feels like she could never be too close to y/n, as if she was addicted to her.

"fiona, i'm- i think," y/n pauses, her speech being overtaken by an almost scream-like moan.

"there you go, pretty. let it all out," fiona coos, coaxing y/n through the intensity of her orgasm.

it takes y/n a minute to readjust, her breathing and heart finally slowing.

fiona pulls her into a hug, suddenly feeling softened by y/n's beauty.

"so, was it like you imagined?" y/n questions, unable to stop herself from giggling.

fiona laughs, breaking the embrace and looking at y/n.

"somehow even better."

a/n: this was a request but i can't find the ask now? either way thank you for the request :)

[acethetically-bway]

i think we need to spend a minute, or several, talking about the al-anon questionnaire that fiona canonically got a “perfect score” on (TWs for alcoholism/self harm):

imagine little fiona realizing frank loves alcohol more than her and her siblings for the first time and carrying that with her all the way until season 9 when she takes this test 😭 also makes me think of her giving him the ultimatum as his liver is failing and realizing that if he is gonna stop (which he’s not, but regardless), he’s not gonna do it for her. it honestly hurts more to think of the fact that she took this test years AFTER giving him that ultimatum and making that realization, meaning that she *still* deep down, at almost 30 years old, thinks he’d stop if he really loved her.

i can also just picture her heart sinking when she sticks her little kid nose just a bit too close to frank and the strong smell of booze just radiates off of him and makes her nostrils burn. also holy shit #9 (and others on this list too tbh) has me thinking about the wifeification of fiona and how she has to be the one to placate frank and walk around eggshells with him, otherwise he’ll go off the rails and hurt her (or worse, her siblings). because they’re just kids and they’ll say shit without knowing any better, and by that point it’s too late. imagine fiona coaching the others on how to act when frank’s around, telling them exactly what to avoid saying so they don’t set him off and incur his drunken wrath. her letting frank steal their money because it’s better to just give him what he wants and get him out of their hair than to challenge him (until she and her brothers are physically strong enough to fight back.)

PLEASE AGH IF FRANK WASNT AN ALCOHOLIC FIONA WOULD’VE HAD A NORMAL CHILDHOOD WITH A PRESENT AND LOVING FATHER!! she wouldn’t have had to be a mom to her siblings, she wouldn’t have to worry about money constantly bc frank would be there to hold down a stable 9-5 job, she wouldn’t have such a fucked up view of love/men in general (“i can handle men trying to fuck me, i’ve been doing it since i was nine”), and she might not have gone to jail or become an alcoholic herself. she could’ve gone off to college on a track scholarship and made something of herself. and if she had just been better at controlling frank and been good enough for him to love and stay sober for at the age of NINE then none of this bullshit would’ve happened. oh this is my final straw istg.

there’s a story behind #18 i can FEEL IT oh god it makes me wonder if she ever actually made those types of threats *to* frank or if she just kinda intrusively fantasized about it. like “if he saw me bleeding out or sick or on the brink of death, would he still choose drinking over me?” and #19 genuinely i wanna know the details, like she obviously has anger issues but confused and depressed?? perhaps a shift from one to the other over time, like as a kid her predominant state was one of confusion and then as a teenager it turned to depression and it’s now just festering as this lingering resentment and bitterness because of the walls she’s built up and how she’s so stuck in her current life. she’s so independent but also so dependent on her siblings for a purpose and even on frank, because the course of her day/week/life depends on his behaviors (if he needs their money, if he’s exploiting the younger kids, if his actions/crimes put her or her family in danger).

[calummss]

shameless

cameron monaghan

being in a relationship with cameron monaghan headcanon

gallavich

gallavich as girl!dads

[localspiderboy]

Hello could you possibly do a fiona gallagher x ftm reader who is debby’s friend/tutor that usually gives her free home made food is she gives him something in return(ice-cream) and he is on testosterone and had top and bottom surgery

You Give You Recieve | Fiona Gallagher x FTM!Reader

summary: You and Fiona grow closer as she thanks you for looking out for her sister.

genre: fluff

word count: 458

DNI WOMEN/FEM ALLIGNED I have gn content that I have no problem with you interacting with :)

a/n: Love this! Thanks for sending it in, sorry for the wait. I kept it kinda short my brain is on a writer's strike lol. Sorry if she's ooc it's been a little bit since I watched the show. I feel so icky I've never written under 500 words lol but I'm getting back into the swing of things. Might expand on this! It's not really mentioned that reader is ftm but if I do another part I will talk about it more.

“Thanks again for helping me out y/n, and for the dinner.” 

You smiled as you walked Debbie to her door, she had been coming to you for after-school tutoring sessions for the last month. It’s been a really big help for her you’re able to explain things in a way that makes it much easier to understand. 

“No problem Deb, I made extra for Carl and Liam too, make sure to give it to them.” Just as she was turning to open the door her sister Fiona stepped out, on her way to take out the trash. 

“Hey Fi!” Debbie greeted her sister quickly before she rushed inside, she must be eager to try what you made for her this time. Fiona and you both chuckle at her antics. 

“Let me get that for you.” You offered and take one of the trash bags from her hands.

“Oh, you don't have-”

“Fiona.” You cut her off and gave her a look that she knew meant you weren’t taking no for an answer. 

Fiona sent you a grateful smile and simply nodded her head. Together you both walked to the curb to set the trash out. 

“Thank you again Y/n.” 

You shrugged as you set the trash bag down. “Eh, no problem these looked heavy so-”

“Not for the trash.” She laughed.  “For tutoring Deb and always sending her home with dinner.” 

“Oh well yeah, I love Deb she’s a smart kid and I always seem to make too much so it’s no problem.”  

You smiled at her and took the time to really get a look at Fiona’s appearance. She looked tired, she’s always tired. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her hair was in a disheveled ponytail. She must have just gotten off work. Still. She looked beautiful.  You know she’s been picking up extra shifts lately. If you could do something to lessen her load you’d gladly do so in a heartbeat, hence the homemade meals you’ve been purposely making extra of. 

Fiona and you had been friends in high school and have only recently gotten back in touch but it really feels like nothing has changed. Despite her not really being able to recognize you when you reconnected although you can't fault her for that.

“I wanna make it up to you, you know for taking care of Deb and everything.”

“Fiona you don’t have to.” 

She had given you the same look you’d given her just moments before and it made you laugh, reluctantly you nodded accepting her offer. 

“The place I’m working at has really good ice cream. My treat?” It was less of a question and more of a demand. 

 “How could I possibly say no to that?” 

Like the fic? consider reblogging! <3

[what-you-doing-here-then]

I'm gonna post Gallavich edits I have saved cause why not?

Credits to mrmilagher on TikTok

[scarlet-witchery]

Day 7 — Femslash February — Canon Divergence

Fiona/Vee, what if. (ao3)

@m4ndysk4nkovich @holymurdock @lovekenney

Fiona wasn't sure when it started. Maybe it was when Vee’s latest boyfriend broke up with her and she had to stay with the Gallaghers for a while, just until I'm back on my feet, Fi. But days turned to weeks and Fiona hadn't even thought about asking her to leave. Instead she told her friend to get off the couch, come crash with her, my bed’s big enough for two people, it's fine. None of the kids minded, either; they all loved Vee like she was another big sister. Not that Fiona would ever ask, but Vee didn't need her to—she picked up the slack where Fiona fell short, and between the two of them they had managed to get the Gallagher household in decent shape.

And sure, they'd always been the kind of friends who hugged and kissed a lot, had been from the start. It was so easy to fall into it with Vee, who might have been all sharp-tongued and rough edges, but they fit together like puzzle pieces. Affectionate hugs in the kitchen, cheek kisses when Fiona made Vee laugh and vice versa, draping themselves all over each other when they sat on the couch with the younger Gallaghers as they all watched TV on cable they'd “borrowed” from the neighbors.

But somewhere along the line, Fiona started to feel a swooping in her stomach whenever Vee winked at her, or put her arms around Fiona's waist. Her heart skipped a beat when Vee would wear those shimmery, slinky tops on nights they went out to the club; an ache grew in her heart when they danced, pressed up against each other with arms slung over each other's shoulders. She didn't know what this was—didn't want to name it—but she couldn't stop thinking about it. Loved it whenever she could make Vee laugh, that unflattering kind where she snorted loudly and sounded like a parrot. (Fiona didn't feel bad about thinking that, since Vee always told her she laughed like a dying hyena. So fucking sue her.)

But then one night they'd been drunk, so fucking drunk, hanging all over each other like they couldn't stand to stop touching. Fiona's heart kept pounding in her chest, loving the way Vee’s dark, smooth skin felt against her own. Loved the way their fingers looked, laced together like they couldn't bear to let each other go. And it was true—Fiona didn't want to let go, wanted to keep Vee close, all wrapped up in her arms.

Maybe it was the giddiness, maybe it was the liquid courage, but Fiona knew it was all on her when she turned her head at the same time Vee did, planting a sloppy kiss on her best friend's lips. The club was dark and packed with people, but right then it felt like the two of them were alone in the world as Vee stared at her with those beautiful brown eyes. Then she muttered something under her breath—Fiona couldn't figure out what exactly—and kissed Fiona back, just for a moment.

It was all a blur after that, a drunken moment of nervous laughter, hands squeezing one another's tightly. They stumbled off the dance floor in their heels, ignoring everyone they bumped into so they could get away faster. Somehow they managed to sneak away, find an empty bathroom stall, and Fiona grabbed Vee by the wrist and pulled her in so she could lock the door behind them.

Vee turned them around, pressed Fiona against the stall door, murmured “fucking finally” before pressing their lips together hungrily. Fiona clutched at her shoulder, other hand at Vee’s waist, and she'd never felt higher than this. Vee’s long, beautifully manicured nails carded through Fiona's wild mess of hair, tracing lines along the back of her neck that made Fiona shiver. Nothing mattered right now except this. Fiona made a lot of stupid decisions when she got drunk, but this definitely wasn't one of them.

When they finally broke apart for air, the two of them stared at each other for a long time, breath coming fast and harsh, pressing their foreheads together.

“...you said finally,” Fiona managed to get out. “That mean…you, uh…”

“It means exactly what it sounds like,” Vee said, her voice fond. She brushed Fiona's dark hair out of her eyes, playing with one of Fiona's earrings as her hand swept back. “Didn't know if I should say anything. Didn't wanna fuck things up between us.”

Fiona laughed breathlessly. “I get it. I uh…yeah. Me, too.”

There was a moment of silence before they both burst out into laughter, their heads resting on each other's shoulders, knees twined together.

“Damn, you're the worst,” Fiona said, giggling.

“Shut the fuck up and kiss me again, bitch.”