#gallagher brothers settles it

[nostalgic90s]

I wanna know Ian's first thought(s) when he heard Lip masturbating on the top bunk. I kinda think it went like this:

"Oh. Shit. Should I say something? No. I'll act like I never heard anything gross."

(Second time) "Okay he's doing it again. It's not so bad, just a few minutes and he'll be done."

(Third time) "Oh God, please be loud this time Lip. Please-" All the while Ian is thrusting into his own hand.

[pumpkinpastiesandcoffee]

Princess - Lip Gallagher

Lip Gallagher x F! Reader 18+

Summary: Tony's little sister has a crush on Lip and Lip has fallen for her even if she seems like a princess. Words: 2400 Warnings: NSFW, Dry sex / Dry humping, alcohol, marijuana

~MDNI~

Y/n was Tony Markovich's little sister and she had the world's biggest crush on Phillip Gallagher. Lip hadn't always liked the girl, he found her too shy, always hiding in the background but the last few months, bumping into her as she leaves her brothers place to then hanging out together, he found himself falling for her. Walking sunshine would be his best description of her, followed closely by princess which she complains about although she secretly loves the nickname.  

Lip was apprehensive to start anything with Tony's little sister, the man might like Fiona and by extension Lip and his family, but he was still a cop and he'd seen how scary he could be towards her boyfriend Kyle a few years back so it was no surprise she'd been single since. Y/n however was afraid Lip just wasn't into her and had been too afraid to say anything, her anxiety keeping her feelings just below the surface. It was hard though, watching him with Karen then even harder when they stopped seeing each other because now she could feasibly tell him how she feels but still the words would stick in her throat.

Tonight, she sat huddled under a picnic blanket, staring at the small crackling fire as people around the makeshift circle laughed and chatted. She glanced up when a beer bottle entered her line of sight and smiled up at Lip who was offering her the drink. "Thanks Lip, looks like it was a fight for the cooler tonight" she mused, eyeing the small group of guys that were stood around said cooler yelling at each other. "Ah, worth the fight I recon" Lip had laughed as he sat down beside her and as she tugged the blanket tighter around herself. Getting a glare from her in response, "It's not my fault I dressed for summer in summer, only for the temperature to drop like it's fall".

Lip pulled out a joint, lighting it up and taking a long drag of it, watching the smoke he blows back out dissipate into the air. Turning slightly, he offered it to y/n before remembering she doesn't smoke, "sorry, I always forget, you're a princess" he scoffed, lips curled into a playful smirk. He often made fun of her for it but never with the intention of forcing her into it and up until now she had never shown an interest either, never seemed bothered by the teasing. However, to his surprise he felt her fingers brush over his hand as she moved to take it from him causing Lip to raise a brow in surprise.

"Y'know I'm joking right? It's fine you don't smoke" Lip was quick to reassure her as he turned to face her properly. "Yeah, I know. You'd never make me do anything I didn't want to Lip. I want to try it, just been afraid of getting caught by Tony and he's working tonight, so" she shrugged, blue eyes flicking up to meet his. "Plus, I know I'm safe with you for my first-time smoking weed so, if the offer stands?" Lip nodded, that familiar warm feeling settling in his chest which he was quick to wave off as the weed even though he knew better. He handed the joint to her, explaining how to smoke it then watching as she followed his instructions.

Y/n only held it in her lungs for a few seconds before the dry burn of her lungs had her coughing. Lip reached over, rubbing her back as he laughed at her, a shit eating grin on his face. “Cat got your lung?” Lip laughed again, only to get whacked in the chest by her hand causing him to cough. Y/n shot him daggers but her lips were quirked up, her features alight with amusement the way he loved and it made him smile and that warm feeling tighten.

It only took a few minutes for it to kick in, but when it did, y/n found herself entranced by the fire, the way it moved and the flames broke off and flicked up into the sky had her captivated. Lip however was captivated instead by her, the way her eyes watched the flames and reflected them and the little gasp when it made a particularly loud crackle. At one point y/n leant into Lip’s side, his arm moving to wrap around her while she spoke, “Does it always feel this peaceful?” Lip shook his head, squeezing her lightly, “Not always, depends on the person and how often they smoke.” Y/n made a small sound in reply before smiling up at him. “I think this is the first time in my life I actually feel calm, like I can talk without everything catching in my throat, I like it” her voice trailed off as her eyes returned to the fire.

She perked up as a new song came on, “Oh! Oh Lip, I love this song” she beamed, standing up and extending her hand to him, “dance with me?” Had it been anyone else he would’ve said no but he couldn’t, not to her and with that he placed his beer down and took her hand. Y/n wasn’t a good dancer, but her awkwardness was rather endearing to Lip as they danced to a few songs, laughing freely as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him into a hug. Lip smiled, wrapping his own arms around her waist and hugged her back before lifting her up and spinning her around. She giggled, holding on tighter until he set her back down. Y/n expected the anxiety to bubble up as she looked up at him but instead found only the uninhibited desire to kiss him. One hand still holding his shoulder, the other moved to his cheek as she leaned in to kiss him, catching Lip off guard entirely. It took a second for him to kiss back but once he did, he never wanted to stop. It was a simple kiss, but they could both feel more, so when she pulled back, he pouted causing her to laugh.

“Walk me home?” she asked, a small smile on her lips. Lip nodded, “yeah, ‘course.” He took her hand and they headed for Tony’s house, although as they reached the foot path, the cool breeze had y/n shivering, curling into his arm. As much as he liked her being that close, he felt bad and quickly pulled away to shed his coat and wrap her in it, smiling when only her finger tips peeked through the sleeves. Taking her hand again, he was relieved when she leant back into him. As they reached the porch, she unlocked the door and stepped inside, smiling back at him, “coming?” Lip was quick to take her outstretched hand and follow her in. They walked upstairs and she pushed open one of the doors, he looked around her bedroom before looking back at her. She was kicking off her shoes and hopping onto her bed so he followed suit, coming to sit beside her, back against the wall and feet hanging off the other side of her bed while she sat facing him, legs tucked to the side.

Her fingers brushed his hand, pulling his eyes to her, “can I kiss you again?” Lip smiled, leaning forward and she was quick to meet him halfway. This time the kiss wasn’t unexpected and Lip made sure to make it a good one. His hands sat either side of her face, fingers curling into her hair as his tongue traced her bottom lip and without hesitation she opened her mouth for him, giving him complete control as she leant into him. Her hands grasped at his shoulders and Lip moved a hand to her waist, pulling her closer until she was sat, straddling his lap. The kissing only got more heated from there, Lip ran his hand on her waist under her top, loving the way she leaned into his touch. His hand moved to her back, tracing up and down her spine before returning to her waist.

Lip broke the kiss causing y/n to whine before he pressed his lips to her neck, hands moving to shove his jacket off her shoulders. She easily shrugged it off, letting the heavy fabric hit the floor as she focused on the way his teeth nipped her neck making her gasp. “Lip” her voice came out so softly it was barely audible but their proximity meant he heard her and he smiled against her throat, “Princess?” Her cheeks reddened at the teasing tone, her fingers carding through his hair, tugging at the short pieces at the back making him groan as he looked up to her. Both of his hands sat on her hips now and he gripped them tightly, pulling her forward, grinding her against the rough denim that wasn’t doing much to conceal how hard he was in that moment. She surprised herself with the moan that escaped her throat, cheeks now a deep shade of red as she looked down at him.

“Lip, I…” her voice trailed off and Lip stopped, eyes lifting to meet hers, brows knitting together, “We don’t have to if you don’t want to” She shook her head, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before glancing down, “I want to, I really do but, you should know I’m, well I’m a virgin.” Lip felt bad, the way she whispered the word ‘virgin’ sounded like she was ashamed and his hand caught the side of her face, encouraging her to look at him, “It’s okay.” Now it was his turn for his voice to trail off as he sighed, “You’re still high though, we can’t… you’re first time should be sober.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I should’ve told you before I invited you up here, now we’re both, I’m sorry Lip!” y/n rambled, immediately afraid she’d ruined his night and was about to hop off when Lip grabbed her hip, shaking his head, “It’s okay, we can just, make-out if you want? Or not if you don’t want to.” She shifted her weight back to the centre of his lap to kiss him however the friction had them both groaning. She was quick to apologise again and Lip was just as quick to reassure her it was okay, pressing his lips to hers in hopes of returning to the make-out session.

Lip kept his hands to her back and waist, his lips on hers or the hickey he had started earlier. Y/n however was still well aware of just how turned on they both were and decided to roll her hips against him. Maybe it was the weed or maybe it was the desperation for some form of friction, either way, feeling Lip dig his fingers into her waist made her smile. It wasn’t until she did it a second time with a bit more force that Lip realised it was no longer an accident, he glanced up at her with a brow raised and she bit her lip, “Is this okay?” Lip was sure he should say no and stop her, he should be decent and tell her to go to bed, but his decency seemed to stop at sex. Grinding on one another though? That was fair game. So instead, he found himself pushing his hips hard up into her, watching with a smirk as she gasped.

Things devolved into desperation after that, both tipsy and high, they wanted to feel good and their hot kisses full of tongue and teeth were only adding fuel to the fires burning in them. Lip was now gripping y/n’s hips tightly, using them as leverage to drag her over his now painfully hard cock, grunting as he pressed his lips to the crook of her neck. Y/n was no better, the previous slow rolling of her hips was now faster and getting uneven like her breathing, the small whimpers and moans only pushing Lip closer to his own climax. “Fuck, princess, you sound so sweet” Lip groaned against her ear, kissing her temple then her lips. She had avoided speaking, knowing sentences weren’t going to be achievable right now but she stuttered nonetheless, “so close, Lip, so” her voice cut off with a particularly harsh thrust from Lip. “Lip, Lip please, Lip,” she whimpered, nails biting into his shoulders as she chanted his name. She came moments later, body tensing as she cried out his name while Lip kept her moving as until he came too, groaning against her chest.

Y/n began to come down from her high, head resting against his shoulder as she got her breathing back to normal. Lip held her tightly still, arms now wrapped around her waist and his head leant back against the window. They stayed like that for a while, both enjoying the euphoria and comfort within one another before finally y/n leant back, cheeks red as she looked at Lip. He was quick to kiss her before leaning back to meet her eyes, “you okay?” She nodded, “yeah, I’m okay. You?” Lip nodded, kissing her cheek softly. “It’s probably really silly but god I am so tired now” she whispered causing Lip to laugh. “No, it’s not, it’s pretty normal. I should get home anyway; let you get to bed” He smiled softly at her.

Nodding, y/n slipped herself off his lap, “Yeah, plus if Tony comes home to us in bed together, I think he’d kill you.” Lip laughed nervously, hopping off the bed and grabbing his jacket, holding it in front of his crotch in hopes he could hide the dark patch they’d both made. He leant across the bed, kissing her gently but with a depth that had her head spinning. “I’ll see you tomorrow princess” Lip smirked at her before heading out. Y/n sat on her bed wondering if she just imagined it all or if it was some crazy weed induced hallucination, however as her eyes flicked across the floor, she noticed Lip’s scarf on the floor and she went a grabbed it. With the scarf in hand, she curled up under her covers, bringing the scarf up to her nose and breathing in, smiling at the smell of cigarettes, weed and beer she knew it was real and found herself falling asleep to thought of seeing Lip again tomorrow.

[eternalnat]

I rarely make tumblr posts, but I am so infuriated by this situation I need to say something about it.

Five Hargreeves, who spent 45 years alone in a post-apocalyptic world, and every single moment of his life since was spent trying to get back to his family. The Five who ran himself dry for 2 weeks straight trying to stop the end of the world, and reunite his family. The Five who slaughtered an entire board of directors just to ensure him family's safety. Who turned back time himself, while bleeding out on the floor, just to save his siblings. You're telling me, that the Five whose entire motivation for living was once saving his family, is the same Five, who in s4 has entirely given up, and in the Subway is the one trying to convince Lila to stop looking after 6 and a half years? The Five who never once stopped trying to return to his family in all 45 years of surviving alone, decides to settle down in a greenhouse and live out a cottagecore life?

Furthermore, the same Five who told Lila that Diego loved her, who reassured his brother that his wife wasn't cheating on him and loved him dearly, the same Five who got on with Lila only due to the fact that they both cared for and loved Diego, the person they had in common, is the same Five who stole his brother's wife, whom he had three children with, just because the writers were excited that Aidan Gallagher was finally legal?

Five who hated authority, who despised when people gave him commands, who wanted nothing more than to retire in s3, is now working for the CIA and willingly calling his boss, 'sir'?

Five who used to be so paranoid and suspicious of everyone and everything, who used to solve problems alone and came to epiphanies that saved the world, who didn't even trust a past version of himself, also didn't realise that his boss of many years had an umbrella tattooed on his wrist?

Everything that once stood out about his character is now gone, as if the writers themselves entirely forgot about his existence until the last moment, and added him in as an afterthought, without thinking of the effect he would have on the story.

[builtbybrokenbells]

CAPITAL VICES | JACOB T. KISZKA

Jacob Thomas Kiszka: the eighth, undiscovered, most deadly sin of all.

Masterlist

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 19k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving) mentions of oral (m!receiving), sir kink, dom/sub, praise, dirty talk, biting, nipple play, degradation, very brief mention/phrase of free use kink, overstimulation, spanking, name calling, ANGST, mentions of breakups/heartbreak, depression, anxiety, sadness, graphic description of grief/grieving, loss of a parent, mentions of cheating/toxic relationships, past trauma with relationships, mentions of abusive relationships/physical violence, mentions of dying/death, mentions of addiction/withdrawal/drugs, fluff, drinking, swearing, sorry if i miss any!!!

you guys didn’t really think I’d end it there, did you? ;) i did tell a little while lie and say wrath was the last chapter, but I didn’t technically say ‘the end’ 🤍 I apologize for leaving you hanging, and I hope this makes up for it! as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!! (Very lightly edited)

Forget, move on, move forward.

That was the mantra you had been repeating to yourself for days. The sound was nearly sickening now, and the only reason you had not abandoned it was because it was stuck in your head. It was not helping, and it definitely was not working, but you were so deep in despair that you hoped it would eventually make the difference. You were desperate for any type of relief, for none of your usual coping mechanisms were working. The more the time passed, the more you were beginning to think that you would never recover from the loss of Jake Kiszka. You could not look at your piano, and you could not get out of bed for long enough to even think about readying yourself for the bar. All of your most comforting television shows had turned bleak, and the thought of playing music made you sick.

Well, all but one particular band, at least.

One sleepless night, you grew annoyed with your own relentless tossing and turning. After moving to the couch and turning your television on, you realized that not even the sound of Shameless, or more specifically, Frank Gallagher’s drunken babbling could pry a laugh from you. You switched to Brooklyn Nine-Nine, wondering if maybe a goofy comedy would settle the unbearable misery, but it only seemed to worsen your sadness. With one last shred of hope, you pulled out your phone that was lacking any messages like usual, and you opened your Spotify account.

You took a deep breath as you typed the three words into the search bar, and you felt like you were punched in the stomach when the picture of Jake and his three brothers graced your screen.

Of course, you would notice Jake first. He always came first.

You listened to Jake’s music for the first time that night, and instead of sharing the memory with him, you had to digest the intimacy you had previously denied yourself whilst trying to forget him. You promised that it would only be one time, and that if you only listened to one song, it would curb the need you held for him in your heart.

But, as you learned before in the hardest way imaginable, promising and following through are two completely different things, and it did not stop at a single song. By the time the sun rose in the sky, you were a mess of tears as you finished up the last few songs on their discography. Instead of turning your phone off and moving on, you put it on loop and leaned your head against the arm of the couch. One particular song caught your attention as it began playing, and it drew you in even further as the melodic guitar solo began. By minute three, your eyes were heavy, and not long after that, you were sound asleep.

When you woke in the morning from the best sleep you had in weeks, you were still hearing the soft sounds of Jake’s guitar. You swore you would turn it off and move on, but as you stretched and stood from your position on the couch, you let the melodies carry you through morning coffee and a long, overdue shower. Since then, it always seemed to be playing in the background while you tried to survive life without him.

A few days after the final breakup, Scott had sent you a message inviting you out for lunch. He was curious about how the night went after the blowout at the restaurant, and you couldn’t blame him. He sacrificed his own pride to help you find happiness, and the more you thought about it, the more appealing friendship with him seemed. You needed something to break up the monotony of sadness, and you knew that calling your sister was the last thing you wanted to do. You loved her, and she had always been your best friend, but you could not recount the mistakes you had made to lead you here. It would kill you to relive all of the sweetness and eventually, all of the heartbreak.

So you agreed, but it was all but happily. You made plans for a Saturday afternoon, exactly one week after you had called it quits with Jake. You thought that maybe by the time it rolled around, you would be more excited at the prospect of leaving the house considering you’d spent seven whole days inside, wallowing in your own misery. When you woke up that morning, it felt like lead was weighing down your limbs and you cursed yourself for ever making the plans in the first place. You forced yourself through a shower, but had to sit down on the side of the tub for ten minutes to regain your strength before getting dressed. You picked a hoodie that you’d stolen from your dads closet a long time ago, hoping that it would help you feel closer to him. You had been missing him more than you had in a very long time. You squeezed into a pair of jeans, debating whether to change into sweatpants, but eventually convinced yourself to wear them anyway.

You returned to the bathroom to dust on some makeup, hoping to cover the deep eye-bags and pale skin. About halfway through, you realized that there was not enough makeup in the world to cover up your heartbreak. You put on some lipgloss and sprayed some perfume, finishing just in time to hear the doorbell. With a sigh of defeat, you abandoned your reflection to greet Scott. You trudged to the front door, unlocking the knob and swinging it open to reveal his smiling face. He was much more relaxed than he was the weekend prior, and his clothes were not nearly as fancy. Relief flooded you when you realized that this was, in fact, just a friendly meal.

“Good afternoon, Sunshine.” He chuckled, first noticing your solemn face. You had given him a brief rundown of the situation the night before through a poorly written text so he knew what he was walking into, but you feared that it did not even come close to the way you were truly feeling. In truth, you had been texting quite often, and you weren’t sure that any of it made sense. Still, he was smiling, happily radiating positivity in hopes of making you feel better.

“Not much that’s good about it.” You grumbled, grabbing your purse from the hook by the door. You double checked for your phone and keys before nodding your head in the direction of his car. Your pessimism was staggering, but it did not seem to phase him.

“There’s lots of good,” he tried, stepping out of the way to allow you outside. “You get to see me. That’s good, is it not?” He raised an eyebrow, watching as you locked your door.

“You give yourself too much credit.” He chuckled at your grumpy expression, brushing off your insults like it was nothing.

“You look nice.” He said, placing a hand on your shoulder as you both made your way to the car.

“Thank you,” you said, giving him a small smile. You knew you should not be so harsh with him; he only wanted to help, and you should be grateful for that. When you missed Jake so badly, it made it hard to think of anything other than the sound of your broken heart. “You, too.”

“You have any idea where we should go?” He asked, opening your door for you. You climbed inside, trying to ignore the turn of your stomach at the thought of food. When he got in next to you, he was still waiting for a response.

“Do you remember that little cafe we used to go to in high school?” You asked, suddenly recalling the little spot that you spent so much time together in all those years ago.

“With the two dollar sandwiches?” He asked, laughing at the idea.

“Yeah, and the best grilled cheese in the whole world.” You added, making sure he remembered that fact. “It’s a little bit of a drive, but I haven’t been there in forever.”

“I’m down,” he said, putting the car in reverse and pulling out on the road “I’ve got all day.” He looked down at the radio, reaching out and grabbing a cord. He tossed the aux in your direction and turned the speakers up a notch. “I haven’t been to that diner in a long time, either. We used to go there every day.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “you, me, Seth and Katie Haynes.” You tried to hide the sneer in your voice when you spoke the names.

“Fuck, yes! I forgot about her.” He shook his head in disbelief at his own memory.

“I sure didn’t.” You leaned back in the seat, clicking on the seat warmer in hopes of soothing your aching body. Laying in bed nonstop finally seemed to be taking a toll on you. “Maybe I should have clued in that Seth wasn’t the one when I caught them fucking in my bedroom at my own house.”

“Not to say I told you so, but…” you rolled your eyes, reaching over and giving him a light smack on the arm.

“You know, that’s like rule number one of what not to say when you’re trying to cheer someone up.”

“Oh, I know.” He laughed. “That wasn’t to make you feel better; I just like being right.” It was crazy how fast the two of you seemed to rekindle the friendship that was once so strong. It made you regret losing contact with him, and you thought that if you had been friends with him the whole time, life might have seemed a little less lonely.

“Some things never change.” You sighed, looking out the window as he drove. For a little while, the two of you sat in silence. You admired the city and how it continued on as normal despite you feeling like the world was ending. It was a terrible thing to know that the sun would continue to rise and fall even while you felt like you were dying. You turned on your phone, finding yourself sick of the sad music floating through the stereo. You looked through playlist after playlist, but could not seem to find one that sounded appealing to you. When you grew sick of scrolling your phone in search of a song to play, you gave up and hit shuffle on your recently listened songs, and the first note that played was equal to a punch straight to the stomach.

“Oh, who’s this?” He asked, intrigued at the old-timey sound of the guitar.

“Uh, it’s called ‘Built By Nations’.” You muttered, trying to tune out the guitar and focus on Josh’s voice.

“Who’s it by?” He asked again, his original question being left unanswered.

“My ex and his brothers.” You confessed, You cheeks searing with heat.

“A musician in Nashville, y/n? Come on.” He implored you to think your decision out again.

“I know, I know.” You sighed. “Definitely wasn’t my smartest decision, but I’m suffering now, am I not?”

“Fair enough.” He laughed, taking the cutoff to the road that housed your old High School.

You were hit with a whirlwind of memories as he slowed down, likely feeling the same as you were in that moment. You strained to look out at the football field, and laughed to yourself as you saw the old sign that displayed the name. It was falling apart with some of the letters missing, but it was familiar, and it was comforting. You didn’t hate high school, but you did hate the life events that happened while attending. It seemed to sour the whole experience, but as you thought back on it, you knew it was not nearly as bad as you made it out to be.

“If you could go back for a day, would you?” He asked, looking over at you as the sight passed you by.

“I think so.” You nodded. “Would you?”

“Oh, for sure.” He chuckled, no doubt in his mind about it. With that, he turned down another side road, and within seconds, you were in front of the diner that was a staple of your childhood. He pulled into the half-full lot, and not long after that, the two of you were walking inside. Immediately, you were drawn to the corner booth in which you’d spent so many hours in. It was empty, just like it was meant for you two to sit there. You took to one side, and he slid in the other. You placed your phone in your purse and threw it down beside you, looking around the small area and reminiscing on the memories made in that very spot.

“Let me guess, bacon cheeseburger and not one, but two cokes to go with it. And one to go.” You grinned, looking over at his face as he laughed at your words.

“You know me so well, sunshine.” He admitted to it without argument; he got the same thing every day of senior year despite having a whole menu to choose from. “And you’ll get a grilled cheese with tomatoes on it, because you’re weird.”

“Tomatoes aren’t weird.” You scoffed. “You don’t think that ten months worth of ordering cheeseburgers is weird?”

“Yeah, whatever.” He waved you off. “So, tell me what happened.”

“Eager much?” You raised an eyebrow.

“I’ve waited a whole week to hear how it went, I think I’ve been plenty patient about it.”

“Fine,” you sighed, giving a shrug. “We fought in the parking lot, and on the drive home, and at my house. We said some mean things, stuff that we can never take back no matter how hard we try, then it went back to normal for a little while.” Normal was a strange description when it was referring to angry sex in your kitchen, but it fit the bill for you and Jake. Sex was the most normal thing about your relationship aside from the sadness, and occasionally, a wordless ‘I love you’. “It was nice, but I think that once the situation settled and I had a moment to think about everything, it just… it didn’t seem right.”

“What didn’t seem right?” He asked, hoping you would be more specific.

“All of it, you know? Like, we aren’t even dating and we’ve been hurting each other’s feelings and fighting. I can only imagine what it would be like if we were together.” He gave a small laugh, shaking his head slightly as you spoke. “What? What’s funny?”

“You, sunshine. You’ve always been so stubborn.” You opened your mouth to argue back, but he held up his hand as if to say he wasn’t finished. With a huff, you held back your words. “You guys are fighting because you’re feelings are hurt, whatever, it happens and it’s no big deal. Why are your feelings hurt, y/n?”

“Because he said the only thing I was good for was sex, and then he was all sweet and nice once we made up, but invited another girl on a date? How can you make up with someone and say that you care about them, then kiss another girl like it’s nothing?”

“Just the same as how you can take another guy on a date while you’re in love with him.” He shrugged, knowing he had you in a stalemate.

“I’m not in love with him!” Your voice was shrill, reacting as if the word was poison being forced down your throat. You were lying through your teeth, and even you knew how untruthful your words were.

“Oh, cut the shit, sunshine.” He rolled his eyes, pausing for a moment as the waitress approached you. He gave her a warm smile and ordered for both of you, and within minutes, she was on her way. “You’ve been moping around your house for a week because you broke up with your sort of boyfriend that you’re absolutely not in love with?” When he said it in such a way, you could clearly see how stupid you sounded. With a sigh of defeat, you gave in to the urge to speak the truth.

“Okay, fine, I love him.” Even as you said it, your whole body felt as if it was trying to reject the confession. You shuddered at the word and your palms broke out into a sweat. You ran them across the fabric of your jeans as you tried to calm yourself down. “I do, but I don’t want to, and it scares the shit out of me.”

“Why does it scare you?” He asked, taking a drink from one of the cokes the waitress dropped off. You sipped at the coffee she left behind for you.

“He’s the first person I’ve been with since I left Seth.” You confessed. “I mean, I’ve had one night stands, but never with anyone like him. It’s never been anything like this.”

“It’s never been with someone you’ve cared about.” He deducted.

“Yeah,” You nodded. “When I left Seth, I promised that I would never be with someone like that again. I never wanted anyone to have that type of power over me, and I didn’t want to get close to someone again just to realize that they’re a monster in disguise. It’s easier to be alone than to be alone while in a relationship, and I don’t ever want to suffer that way again.” You stirred some sugar into the mug, watching as the liquid formed a small whirlpool around the metal utensil. “When Jake and I first met, we were both on the same page, but somewhere along the way, the lines got blurred. I’m not innocent, either, and I know that. I was playing house with him and pretending like nothing was wrong, and then he started talking about wanting more, and it scared me so much that I ran. Well, no,” you chuckled “I backed him into a corner and forced him to run.”

“Why are you so scared of him, though? I mean, after this long, and after all of the shit you put each other through, you would be able to see that he’s bad, wouldn’t you?” He played with the paper wrapper that was previously encased around his straw, peeking up from his hands to catch your gaze.

“Maybe? I don’t know.” You sighed, your shoulders slumping with the weight of your emotions. “I’m not scared of him, per say. I’m scared of love, and I’m scared of getting hurt, and I’m scared of losing another person that I care about.”

“Is this about Seth, or is this about your dad?” He asked, voice as quiet as a mouse. He seemed afraid to ask, but more than that, he seemed afraid of your response.

You were stunned for a moment, and the flood of emotion that ran through you was more powerful than anything you’d ever felt. If it were anyone else sitting before you asking that dreaded question, you would have stood and screamed, thrown things from the table just to make a scene and show them how uncalled for the moment was. Instead, you gave a slow blink, but you did not do any of the things you wanted to. While you processed his words, you were plagued with a lifetimes worth of memories that involved the boy sitting across from you. Memories of him holding you while you screamed and cried in your childhood bedroom, clutching your fathers last worn t-shirt tightly to your chest. Memories of his hand in yours while you zombied your way through the funeral proceedings, and memories of him being the only person in the world who could pry a smile from your face while being plagued with such grief.

Even worse than that, there was memories of him sitting at the kitchen table with your father, talking about the football game that aired on television the night before. Ones where Scott would not just drive you to the hospital to visit your father while he succumbed to sickness, but where he walked into the morbid building and sat beside you, your sister and your mother while you tried to cheer your father up during his last days on earth. Scott was allowed to ask that question, not just because of how familiar he was with your grief, but because he grieved, too. Scott may have been a face that was forgotten along with the past, but he was not one that became insignificant. You fought tooth and nail to remove yourself from the life you lived so long ago, but a bond like such carried through until the end of time.

Your heartbreak from Jake may have done more damage than good, but there is always light that shines in the dark. Your breakup allowed for you to sit across the table at a fabled diner with your best friend for the first seventeen years of life. Your time away may have allowed you to forget how much of you he’d seen, but your heart could never forget the importance of his presence.

Instead of screaming, you nodded your head, telling him all you refused to say aloud. He was the only person who you would trust with such things, and despite your unwillingness to speak about it, you knew that he already knew the answer. Seth held little power over you anymore, and your fear of Jake turning out like him was ridiculous, but your dad? He was everything to you. He lived in every decision, every waking moment and thought that crossed your mind. He was a part of every heartbreak and triumph, and his advice rang in your ears every time you second-guessed yourself. The fear of disappointing him was true even after his death, and if anything, it only ever got worse.

More than that, his death crushed you. It left you lying on the floor, cursing every higher power and questioning the very universe that created you. It destroyed any hope and any sense of purpose, and it stole the happiness straight from your chest before it ever had the chance to bloom. You were familiar with loss, but despite it being an acquaintance, it was your own mortal enemy. You knew that it existed, and that it was always looming, but you lived your life in such a way that loss could not touch you. You never let people get too close, and you cut them off before they tried. You distanced yourself from everyone you loved most in hopes of sparing yourself the pain, and you could not even allow yourself to get a pet in anticipation of the crushing grief to come when it was their time to pass on.

The idea of loving Jake scared you so much that it shook you to the core, disrupting your entire life and forcing you to lock him out. The fear did not stem from your inability to love, or because you could not trust your own judgement of his character, but because you could not handle it if he were to suddenly get up and leave. You could not choke down the idea of loving someone enough to hurt after they were gone, and since your father died, no loss could ever come close to the pain you had felt from his death. Now, you knew that Jake leaving was the only pain in the world that could rival the one you had felt so many years ago, housed in your childhood home that held only a ghost of the man you loved most.

“Of course it is, Scott. It’s always about him.” Your throat was dry like you had just screamed out, and your eyes burned as if tears had ran them dry, but none of those things happened; the grief was so plentiful that it had bled you dry, and now it was the only thing to exist within your veins. “I can’t love him because I cannot imagine losing someone again. I can’t imagine how much it would hurt if he walked away, or if… yeah.”

“You don’t have to imagine it, sunshine.” He said, giving you a sympathetic smile. “You’re feeling it right now.”

“I know I am, but I keep trying to convince myself that hurting right now will save me from something worse later on.” You rubbed your face in your hands, wiping away non-existent tears. You felt like you were crying, and you knew you should be, but there seemed to be no tears left to cry.

“Or you’re holding yourself back from the best thing you’ve ever felt.” He offered the alternative, pausing the conversation while the waitress sat your food in front of you. He muttered a thank you, and once again, she was on her way. “Sure, leaving first ensures that he can’t leave you, but it also kills any possibility of happiness. What you’re doing right now limits you from a world of good; everything good comes with risk, y/n, and from what you’re telling me, he seems worth the risk.”

“He is. He’s worth it all.” You nodded, biting into a French fry. Despite your sorrow, you felt better than you had in days. “And I am worried about that pain, because I’m scared I can’t survive it again, but what I’m worried about most is that I’m too broken for him to handle. I don’t know how to love someone, Scott. It’s been five years since I’ve even let someone stay in my life for more than a weekend. Maybe I did all of those years ago, but not anymore. I’m angry, and I’m stubborn, and I’m more work than I’m worth. It’s not fair to him, and as much as I fear him breaking my heart, I’m even more afraid of breaking his.” You explained. “He’s been hurt, too. He deserves the world, and I’m not the person that can give it to him. He needs someone who has their shit together, and I’ve never once had all of my ducks in a row.”

“You can’t make that decision for him, y/n.” He said, taking a bite from his own meal. He let the words sit with you for a moment before speaking again. “I know you, and all you’ve ever wanted to do was protect people. It’s incredibly amicable, but sometimes you have to let them choose for themselves. To me, it sounds like he thinks you’re worth the risk, too.”

“I can’t do that to him.” You shook your head. “Sure, he’s choosing for himself, but I don’t think he knows what he’s getting into.”

“After this long, he knows, y/n, and he doesn’t care.” He assured you. “Listen, I know how guys think: if he was in this for any lesser purpose, he would have left a long time ago. If he did not care about you, he would not have shown up at the restaurant that night. That look in his eye was more than jealousy; it was the type of love that drives you insane. Don’t think you breaking up with him will get rid of that.”

“How do I stop being afraid?” You asked, in disbelief of the fact that he thought it was simple. “I’ve been afraid my whole life, it’s not just something I can turn off, even if I wish it was.”

“You never stop being afraid, sunshine. You just have to love each other enough that it doesn’t matter anymore.”

The meal went by without any further talks of Jake or your last heartbreaks. Instead, you filled the air with jokes and laughter, and gratitude for being in each others lives again. Although your relationship was rekindled for poor reasons, you were still thankful that you got the chance to be around him again. When the check came, you fulfilled your promise to repay him for the dinner cut short. When you climbed back into his car, you felt dread settle in your stomach. You weren’t ready to go home; you had been alone for days, and while that was something you normally loved, you’d now grown to hate it. You felt so happy to be with company that the idea of going home to an empty house sickened you. Worse yet, you did not know if you could go back and suffer through your relentless thoughts about Jake.

The drive home was filled with loud music, both of you singing along at the top of your lungs. You managed to convince him to stop at a coffee shop, claiming that you needed more caffeine to survive the day, but it was only to avoid the inevitable. When you made it back to the suburbs that you called home, your body felt heavy with the weight of your own loneliness. He pulled into your driveway, slowly rolling the car to a stop before he put it into park.

“Thank you, Scott.” You mumbled, looking down at your hands settled in your lap.

“No need for thanks,” he brushed you off “I hope I helped.”

“You did.” You nodded. “I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I definitely feel better.”

“You don’t need to know right now.” He assured you. “You can take all the time you need; it’s your life, sunshine.”

“You’re right.” You breathed, forcing a smile on to your face. “I’m sorry things ended up like this. It wasn’t my intent for you to be my own personal therapist.”

“It was meant to work out like this.” He shrugged. “I’m just happy I get to see you again. Watching your life through limited Facebook posts was sad. I missed my friend, and that’s the biggest reason I asked you out.”

“I missed you, too. I think I would really like it if we hung out more often.” You confessed. “I’ve been far too isolated. I’m too young to be so afraid of being alive.”

“You’re right,” he agreed, leaning across the seats to give you a hug. You rested in his arms for a moment, soaking up all of the physical contact you could before having to retreat inside. “I’ll see you soon?” He asked, pulling back just enough to catch sight of your face.

“Of course. Thank you again.” You gave him one last smile before making your departure, feeling your stomach sink more with every step you took towards the front door.

You had no idea what to do, and a part of you felt like you should call Jake and at least apologize for all that happened. Still, there was a bigger, more stubborn part of you that still believed he was better off without you. Once you locked the door and you were safely inside, you heard Scott pull out of your driveway and begin his journey home. You kicked off your shoes and threw your purse down on your kitchen counter. You reached into the pocket of your sweater, letting your fingers linger on your phone for a moment. You wanted to pull it out, to dial Jake’s number from memory and confess everything your heart felt for him. For a while, you sat in the kitchen, clutching your phone and unable to find the strength to go any further.

You loved him, but you loved him enough that you could not bear the thought of dragging him down with you. He was too good, and you were too much. The thought alone made tears pool in your eyes and your bottom lip begin to quiver. You wondered if your dad was looking down on you, proud of you for being the bigger person, or if he was disappointed in you for letting another good thing pass you by.

Then, the most painful thought of all struck you out of nowhere: he would never get the chance to meet Jake and grow to love him like you did.

You knew your father would be Jake’s biggest fan; his kind heart and his lax attitude was loveable no matter who he was using it on, and his love of music and talent on the guitar would win your dad over indefinitely. Jake was the type of guy your father had begged you to fall in love with, but he surely did not anticipate you being too broken to love him back.

Suddenly, the thoughts and the feelings got to be too much and you had to force yourself out of them. Instead of calling Jake, you shut off your phone. Instead of being the bigger person and confessing your love, you climbed into bed fully clothed and searched for the scent of him in your bedsheets. Instead of growing up and forgetting your fear, you closed your eyes and fell asleep while trying to remember what it felt like to have his arm wrapped around you.

When you woke, the sun was no longer shining through the window. Instead, the moonlight was plentiful and it casted a white glow over your bedroom, illuminating the sadness and the emptiness that now lived inside. You were groggy, barely within the plane of existence, but you tried your best to shake off the feeling. You were certain you heard a soft thud sound from the kitchen, but you chalked it up to you remaining amidst a dream despite being conscious, now. You tumbled from your bed, planting your feet firmly on the floor as you stretched out your arms and let out a yawn. When you stepped out of your room and into the bathroom to brush your teeth, you thought that you heard the sound again. You brushed it off, knowing that the likelihood of it being anything important was slim. The idea of someone knocking on your door was laughable, and you did not want to torture yourself by checking to see and being met with nothing.

You rinsed your mouth and wiped away the specs of mascara that had fallen underneath your eyes. You let out a sigh at your reflection, grabbing a a makeup wipe and ridding yourself of all the makeup. You washed your face and moved on to the kitchen, where you grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the fridge and began pouring yourself a glass. It had become a nightly routine, and you knew that with a few shots, you’d be back to sleep in no time.

As you dropped the ice into your glass you heard the noise again, but stronger this time. It caught your attention so fast that you could not doubt that it was real. You wondered if Scott had driven back to your side of town to check on you, or if maybe your mother had come over to see if you were alive. You had been ignoring her calls and messages, and although you knew you should answer, you could not bring yourself to do it. You took a sip of your drink before stepping towards the door, using it as a bit of courage to face another social interaction. Your fear of being alone no longer existed, and the longer you stayed holed up in your house, the more tempting isolation seemed.

You unlocked the deadbolt and the knob, wondering who would be here so late at night if not for a friend. Lately, friends were scarce and you had little idea who could be there. When you opened the door fully, getting a clear view of who was on the other side, you nearly fell to your knees. You were frozen, stuck staring at his face as you processed the fact he was really standing there, the corners of his lips upturned into a small, breathtaking smile. He seemed just as happy to see you, but he did not make a move to greet you first. Eventually, you mustered enough courage to speak.

“Hi,” you breathed, completely taken aback by the boy in front of you. After days of missing him, wondering if you would ever be lucky enough to see him again, you had a hard time believing that the man before you was real. In some strange way, it felt like he was a figment of your exhausted and worn down imagination. You feared that if you reached out and touched him, he would disappear before your very eyes. You did not want to be met with any more disappointment, because in the last week, that was all you felt. If he were to suddenly fade away, you thought that you might not be able to survive it. The sight of his face was the most comforting thing you had seen since he was last with you, and the knowledge that he was still thinking of you made you weak in the knees.

“Hi, sweetheart.” He said, giving you a soft smile. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, of course.” You nodded, stepping out of the way to allow him inside. You tried not to think about the butterflies running rampant in your belly at the sound of the pet name. He stepped towards you, out of the warm night air and into the comfort of your home that he’d grown so used to. You watched his face, dazed at his beauty and wondering how you ever forced yourself to let him go. He had a bag slung over his shoulder and a look in his eyes that you could not place. You weren’t sure if you’d ever seen it before, but you liked it more than you cared to admit.

Then, before he spoke again, you had a sudden sense of dread wash over you; he was likely only there to retrieve his clothing he had left behind. The ache in your chest at the thought was unbearable, but you forced yourself to remain calm and allow him to do what he needed to do.

“You’re here to get your stuff?” You asked, trying to hide your feelings of frustration and sound as cheerful as possible. If only you could tell him how much you cared, maybe he wouldn’t clear out the only remaining memories of your relationship. You hated how much you had grown to like his life being intertwined with your own in such ways. He furrowed his eyebrows, looking over your face as he tried to place the emotion behind your eyes.

“No, angel.” He chuckled, dropping his bag down on the floor. You listened to the sound, realizing that if anything, it sounded quite full. A rush of relief ran through you, even if you knew you should have wanted him to clear out all of his belongings. It was for the best, even if you did not want him to leave again, especially for good.

“Oh,” you breathed, trying to compute what was happening. “So… why are you here?” You hated that it came out so harsh, and it was not at all what you were intending, but it did get your point across clearly. You were confused, you were still hurting, and more than anything, you wanted to know what his intent was.

He stepped closer to you, so close that you could feel the heat radiating from his body. Then, he reached up, letting the knuckle of his index finger softly caress your cheek. You let your eyes flutter closed at the feeling, the sensation intoxicating and when mixed with the scent of his cologne, deadly. He tucked your hair behind your ear as he noticed pieces falling from the messy bun sat atop your head. After that, his hand drifted towards your neck, settling gently on the back of it as he drew you closer to him.

You were too weak to fight him, and too tired to care. You missed his comfort more than anything, and you did not want to deny yourself the pleasure after you had suffered so much.

“You look tired, sweetheart.” He said, studying your face. He could see the dark circles forming, and the fire in your eyes he loved so much now seemed dim, nearly burnt out. Your head was upturned to meet his gaze, and he was looking down at you. In another universe, you would even go as far as to say that the two of you seemed to fit together with perfect harmony. “Have you been sleeping?”

“Not really.” You shook your head ever so slightly, fighting the urge to reach out and touch him. You noticed the same tell-tale signs in his own features. “Have you?”

“No.” He said, still staring intently at your face. He missed it so much that he was trying to memorize every detail all over again. Unintentionally, you felt yourself leaning into him. His face was so close, and your eyes were begging to close as you pulled him in for a kiss. He felt it just as much, and he was hoping you would cross the invisible boundary you had drawn for yourself. You were in such close proximity that you could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, drawing you in further. The tip of your nose brushed against his, sending jolts of electricity through your whole body.

It was so good that you almost fell victim to him once again.

“Jake,” you breathed, pulling back from him and placing a soft hand on his chest so he would keep his distance. The separation was painful, but necessary. “We can’t do this. Friends don’t do this.” Tears pricked your eyes at the term of friendship, but you managed to blink them away before any slipped onto your cheeks.

“Right,” he sighed, nodding against you and accepting your words. Before you knew it, he had stepped out of reach and you were left wishing that you never spoke at all. You watched him move away from you, still questioning if you were dreaming or of conscious mind. For a second, you feared that he would walk towards the door and out of your life again. The grief at the thought alone was debilitating. Then, he bent down and unzipped the top of his track bag. You watched as he carefully pulled something from it, looking over the item for a moment before turning back to you. When he straightened up and made a move to face you again, you nearly fell to your knees. “That’s actually why I came here.” He said, clearing his throat to rid himself of the nervousness plaguing him.

He extended his hand towards you, watching you closely in fear of a volatile reaction. He had brought up the idea once before and you had confirmed your distaste for it, but he could not seem to help himself. He thought you deserved it. He thought that you were worth it. Your eyes were glued to the brown paper that was delicately wrapped around a bouquet of red roses. You were so stunned that you could not even manage to look up to meet his gaze.

How could he do that to you? How could he walk in like nothing happened with a bouquet of roses and a tongue as sharp as a knife? Sweetness dripped from his words and his actions, but you were in no state of mind to receive such treatment from him. His gestures were profound and you adored him for it, but it was not what you needed when you were dedicated to getting over him.

“Jake,” you warned, saying his name like it was the only hymn you knew how to sing. He appeared so ethereal, so beautiful and bright while he held the token of love, but you were not enough of a fool to believe that it could be true. His angelic smile and his breathtaking eyes were nowhere near anything holy, and you had learned the truth a long time ago. He was not good for you, and you were not good for him. You both knew it, but he did not want to accept it. By showing up and handing out grand gestures, he was only worsening the suffering.

“Stop it, y/n.” He said, giving you a stern look. “Take them, please. I spent so long picking them out that it would be a shame for them to go to waste.” Your heart sped at his words, realizing that the longer you looked, the less it seemed like the bouquet was a thoughtless, last minute purchase on his way over. The paper was arranged beautifully amidst the blood red petals and emerald stems and leaves. Tied around the stems was twine that was carefully cut and settled into a bow. You were not a background thought in his head; he had gone to an expensive florist and pondered over dozens of flowers to bring to you. He picked them with care and caution, wondering what would catch your eye the most.

He cared enough to spend the time and the money on you, but what was even worse than that was that he was the first person to ever give you a bouquet of flowers. How could you get over him when he’d been the first man in the world other than your father to care so much about you?

“Friends don’t give each other flowers.” You said, looking hesitantly towards his face.

“You’re right, y/n. Friends don’t give each other flowers.” He sighed, still holding his arm out to you. “I’m giving these to you because we’re not friends, and you and I both know that.”

“No, Jake.” You shook your head, crossing your arms across your stomach and hugging yourself to satiate the steadily growing anxiety. “I told you, we can’t do that. I’m not good for you. This isn’t good for us.” You shook your head, panicking at the idea of hurting each other again. He was too fantastic to be subject to the hurt the two of you were so good at causing.

“Would you quit that? Stop being so fucking stubborn.” He argued, getting visibly frustrated. “You don’t get to decide what’s good for me. You don’t get to choose if I want to be with you or not. Only I can, and I’m choosing you, y/n. I’m standing here in front of you, telling you that I am, and that I will choose you every day for the rest of my life. You don’t get to tell me that we can only be friends, and you don’t get to tell me that this won’t work. You can’t always call the shots. I get a say, too.”

“I’m not telling you what to do, I’m just saying that this is only going to hurt us! I’m trying to protect you, and I wish you could see that!” You exclaimed, trying to ward off the temptation to run into his arms. His words were devastatingly beautiful and everything you had ever longed to hear, but you could not be selfish and bring him down with you.

“Protect me from what?” He shot back, appalled at your inability to comprehend what he was saying. “You? Myself? Us?”

“Everything! I don’t know!” You were exasperated by his reaction, not able to understand how he could not see it the same way you did. Two people that hated love could not love each other peacefully. You had proven that with your jealousy and toxic games, and you cared about him far too much to involve him in such things. The sin the two of you had engaged in had left you both resembling the devil, and you feared that if you let it go any further, you would turn to ash in the barren, fiery wastelands of hell.

“I shouldn’t have left that night, y/n. I never should have let you go, but I didn’t want to push you, and I didn’t want to scare you away. It was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, but I’m here now to tell you everything I need to say. I have to get it off my chest, because if I don’t, it’s going to haunt me for the rest of my life. If you still think that it’s for the best, then I’ll let you go, but not until I tell you everything.” You watched him, pain written so clearly on your face. You did not have the heart to turn him down, and you did not have the strength to keep up the act. You wanted him so badly that it was impossible to send him away, and his persistence was charming despite your hesitancy.

“Okay.” You nodded, choking on the word as it fell from your lips. You knew that whatever he had to say would turn your whole world upside down, but for some reason, you were okay with it. When in his company, even if he was causing peacefulness or devastation, it seemed right. You could comfortably watch him tear your house down one panel at a time, and you would have a smile on your face and love in your heart because you were there with him. You reached out, slowly wrapping your fingers around the bouquet. Your hand brushed against his as you did, the burning warmth of his skin sending a shiver down your spine. You had no idea how even the simplest of interactions with him always seemed so magnificent. “Thank you, Jake.” You looked down at the petals, tears shining in your eyes as you digested the sentiment that came along with the gift.

Now that you held them, it made the moment all the more real. Jake was a man who cared about you so deeply that it made you question if he was even real. You had never felt emotion so strongly, good or bad. He made everything a million times more powerful, and even something as small as buying you flowers seemed to knock the air from your lungs and make your knees weak. You had never felt so important to anyone in your entire life, and as good as it felt, you feared that if it ever came to an end, you would perish from the grief of the loss.

“You keep saying that you want to protect me, but there’s nothing you have to protect me from, y/n. I’m a grown man who understands what I’m getting myself into, and I’m telling you that I don’t care about the risks.” He watched you take a step towards the kitchen, following closely behind you as you moved to set the flowers on the counter. Once they were safely placed, you turned to look at him again, giving him all of your attention. “When I met you at the bar that night, I wasn't looking for anything but sex. We both know that, and I don’t feel a need to lie about it. When I sat down and I finally got you to talk to me, I knew right away that you were going to be more than sex. You can’t just meet someone so fantastic and pretend they’re ordinary, angel, and you are all but ordinary.” Your stomach twisted in knots at his words, but you bit down on your tongue and listened as he poured his heart out to you.

“You are the most beautiful, smart, witty, and charming woman I have ever met. You take my breath away every time I see you, and you make me feel things I’ve never felt before in my entire life. I could go on about how I feel about you forever, but it still wouldn’t even come close to how I feel in my heart. I don’t think there’s enough words in the dictionary to describe how much I care for you.” He was close to you, but not enough that you felt trapped. There was about a foot of space between you, and you would never say it, but you were desperate for him to come closer. Your eyes were focused on his face as he spoke. The emotion in his eyes was so profound that you could feel it as if it were your own. “I know I promised you that I wouldn’t fuck this up, and I’m sorry that things happened the way they did, but falling for you was the easiest thing I have ever done. I was yours before we ever left the bar that night, and as much as you don’t want me to be, I can’t apologize for something I don’t believe is wrong. I am sorry that I broke my promise, but I have never been sorry for caring about you.”

“I’ve spent the last three months trying to memorize every detail about you because I want to know everything you have to offer. I know that you hate breakfast, because it’s too intimate, and emotional intimacy scares the shit out of you. I know that you have the exact same routine before bed; you turn on your fan to the third setting, because the fourth is too loud and the second isn’t enough. Then, you climb into bed and you check your phone, but not for texts or social media likes. You check your schedule, just to make sure you’re not forgetting about an appointment with a client, because your work means everything to you. Then, you get up again because you can remember if you locked the door or not, and you make sure the oven is off for the fifth time while you’re out there. When you get back into bed, you toss and turn for twenty minutes until you eventually end up on your stomach, because that is the only way you can fall asleep.” As he told you the most miniscule details about yourself, your ego shattered and the shards of what once was so strong seemed to stab you with every breath. Nobody had ever cared to know you so well, and he was recounting it like he’d dedicated his whole life to studying it.

“Your sister is your whole life, and you mark off the days on your calendar just so you can count down the hours until she comes home to visit. You only ever sit on the left side of the couch, and you have about a dozen half-empty water bottles beside your bed because you forget about your open one and grab a new one every night. When you laugh, you cover your mouth with your hands and you try to keep it to yourself. I don’t know why, because it’s the most beautiful sound I have ever heard. You play with your hair when you’re nervous, and you blush when you lie.” As he spoke, your hand darted away from the ends of your hair as if it had just burned you.

“Stop, Jake.” You whispered, feeling sick at the sheer amount of knowledge he had about you.

“No, y/n.” He shook his head. “I’ll never stop talking about you, because knowing you so well is the best feeling in the whole world, especially because I know I’m the only one who does. I could talk about you for hours, because I think everyone should know how fantastic you are. I know all of this stuff, and I still want more. You can call me selfish, but I don’t care. I want to spend my life getting to know you, and I will be eighty years old and still wanting to learn something new about you.” He explained, hoping you were understanding what he meant. “Friends don’t know each other like this, sweetheart, and it would be a fucking shame if we tried to be strangers again after everything we’ve been through. Knowing you any less than I do right now seems like torture, and I don’t ever want to do that.”

“I’m not scared of you, and I’m not scared of this. I’ve spent every day since I first met you falling for you, and now, it’s the most comfortable feeling I’ve ever felt. You don’t get to tell me that I’d be happier without you, or as friends, or with someone else, because it’s just not true. You are what I want, and I know you have to feel it, too. I’ve never felt this way before, and I know we’ve both been hurt, and I know that you’re scared, but you can’t tell me that this isn’t good for us. We haven’t even tried, angel. If you let me, I can show you that love is not as scary as it seems, because we’ve already been doing it.”

“Jake,” you let out a shaky breath, your eyes shining with tears as you tried to process all he was saying. His name seemed like the only thought your brain could formulate.

“Baby, you are everything to me. I’m here, and I want to stay if you’ll let me. I’m not going anywhere, and I’m not going to hurt you like everyone else has. I know that I already have, and I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it right, but I promise that I will never do that to you again.” He took a small step towards you, gauging your comfort before he jumped straight into it. “I know that you don’t like this part, but I would be an idiot if I didn’t ask you to try. I want to be what you deserve, and I want to be with you, more than I’ve ever wanted anything my whole life.” He reached out, lifting your chin up with his index finger to look in your eyes. “All I’m asking for is one chance. One shot to prove that I’m telling the truth. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I left you here, and I don’t think I ever will.”

He cared, and he cared so much that he was willing to get his heart broken all over again for the chance to have you. He did not want to promise you love and then leave, nor did he want to pretend to be all you needed just to take it away. He wanted you, and loving you was all he ever wanted to do. Jake had never been the enemy; you only had yourself to blame, ruining your chances at happiness before the opportunity ever arose. You were hurt, guarded and protective over your own frail heart, but he did not want to shatter it like you previously thought. He wanted to help strengthen it again, to show you that your heart would be safe as long as it was offered to the right people. He wanted to love you like you always should have been, and Scott was right that night at the restaurant; what the two of you had was a type of love that you should never let go of. He was the most selfless, caring and kind man you had ever met, and if you let him leave once more, you knew you would lose him forever.

“Okay.” You breathed, nodding your head as your heart drummed rapidly against your chest. You were terrified, but being in his company made the fear obsolete. The look in his eyes aided you in believing that you would be more than okay, and that he would be better than anyone who came before. You felt like you were being crushed underneath the weight of your own longing for him. “I’ll try for you, Jake.” There was no doubt in your mind that you would try until your body began to deteriorate and your mind went numb. You would try for him until you could no longer do it and death was the only other option. You would do anything to experience love at his hand again, because it was the most beautiful thing you had ever experienced.

“Yeah?” He asked with a little laugh stuck in his throat that screamed disbelief.

“Yes,” you nodded, praying that he would bridge the gap. Before you could ask him to come closer, his hands shot out and grabbed your face between them, still gentle with you as if he was scared to break you. He stepped forward, and within seconds, his lips were locked on your own and your arms were around him again. The taste of him was addicting, more than any other drug in the world. The feeling of his skin on your was intoxicating, and his hands felt like heaven when they touched you with such care. You were helplessly in love with him, and no amount of time or distance could change it. He was everything you needed, all of the time, and you were an idiot to try and push him away.

When he parted, you were both breathless and smiling. He was still close enough to your face that you could feel his warmth, and you hoped that he never had to pull back. You wanted to live in the bliss forever, and with him until the end of time.

“I want to try, Jake. I’m so scared, but I want to try as long as it’s with you.” The quiver in your voice was louder than anything else in the room, and he drank up the vulnerability as if he was dying from thirst. “I don’t want to hurt you, and I don’t want to get hurt, but you were right; we can’t let go of this without giving it our best. I’ve been so terrified of losing you that it’s made me blind to how much I care, and I don’t ever want to feel how I felt this week ever again.” All he could do was smile; there was no words to describe the relief he felt.

“I knew you were something more, too. You came in here and suddenly my house felt empty without you. I hate love and relationships, but you make me hate the idea a lot less. I want to try, and I want us to try together, but I want it to work. I don’t want to give up when things get hard, and I don’t want to fight or make each other suffer. I want to be with you, and I want to do it right, this time.” You confessed, all of the words pouring from you with no signs of stopping. “I’m scared to fall in love with you because I was scared of losing you, but I’m doing it anyway by forcing you to stay away. You’re worth the risk, Jake. You always have been, and I’m so sorry that I couldn’t say it sooner.”

“You’re saying it now.” He breathed, almost unable to believe that the words were genuine. When he showed up at your doorstep, he expected to be met with rejection. Instead, you were telling him everything he craved to hear from you. It was almost too good for him to believe that it was true. “That’s what matters, angel.” He placed another kiss to your lips, lingering there for a moment to soak up all of the intimacy he could. “I want that, too. I’ve done it wrong so many times, but I want to do it right this time. I want to do it right with you.”

“I missed you so much.” You admitted, reaching up and cupping his cheek in your hand. You let your thumb drift over the soft skin, wondering how you ever survived without him around.

“You don’t have to miss me anymore. I’m here, and I want to stay.” You closed your eyes, fighting back tears at the sound of his words. He was here, he wanted to stay, and he wanted to love you. You were so lucky to have him, and you were so stupid to think that you could let him go. One of his hands dropped to your hip, his fingers gently grasping at you as he attempted to pull you closer. “I’m going to say it.”

“Say what?” You giggled, peeking at him through tired eyes. You were exhausted, finally comfortable after days of suffering and sleepless nights, but you weren’t willing to end the moment yet. You would never sleep again if it meant you could always be with him, just like you were in that moment.

“I love you, sweetheart.” A wave of emotion washed over you, stopping your heart and filling your lungs. You watched his face, seeing in his eyes that he’d never meant anything more in his life. It was a word you’d banished so long ago, and it was something that you were certain you could live without. Now that he was in front of you, saying it in the same sweet tone he always used, you could not imagine a life without hearing it every day. You had no idea why you were so afraid of it, or why you were so afraid of him. He was the whole world, and you knew that from the very beginning. His devilish charm and intoxicating attitude made it impossible not to love him, and you knew that any woman would jump at the chance to have him. You were the luckiest person to ever live, and you could not picture loving anybody else the way you loved him.

“I love you, Jake.” You whispered, softly and slowly, making sure he heard every syllable. He had been waiting so long to hear it that you could not deny him of it for one more second.

He barely had time to smile before his lips were back on yours, hungrier than the last. You slipped your hand to the back of his neck, tangling your fingers in the locks of his hair. It was different than any other kiss you shared before; it tasted like freedom and it was laced with the notion of letting go. For the first time since you met him, you felt like you could show all of yourself to him. There were no barriers, no doubt nor hesitations. It was just the two of you, enjoying loving each other without fear getting in the way. It was the most beautiful thing you had ever felt, and you never wanted to feel any other way.

Loving Jake was the best thing you had ever experienced, even with the turmoil that you had been through. The pain and the losses were just as important as the good moments and the happiness, because it all led you to where you sat in that moment. The hurt was worth it as long as it meant you could love him, and you would suffer through it all over again just to be able to be loved by him. As his hand slipped under your shirt, settling on the warm skin underneath, you knew that you would never be happier with someone else. He was what you wanted, and any doubt about it was obsolete now.

You could not hold back the moan that slipped into his mouth at the feeling of his hand on you again. The rough, calloused fingertips from his guitar playing felt like heaven against the smooth skin on your body. Now, with the proclamation of love still lingering in the air, every movement and touch was amplified by a million. Your body was on fire, and he barely even touched you. You weren’t sure if it was solely accredited to the vulnerability the two of you shared, or if it was because you’d spent so many days longing to be touched by him. No matter which it was, it did not matter. All that mattered was that he was there, and things were okay.

“Say it again, angel.” He muttered against your lips, still trying to catch his breath.

“I love you,” you breathed, pressing your lips back to his before the words could fully pass through your mouth. His grip on you tightened, ecstatic to hear the sound. “I love you so much.” You said again, unable to hold it back any longer. You wanted to scream your love for him from the highest rooftops, telling the whole world how much he meant to you, but you feared that it still would not be enough. His lips trailed from your lips down to your neck, settling on the sweet spot just below your ear. You let out a breathy moan at the feeling of his tongue on your skin, your hands tightening on him as a silent show of enjoyment.

“We’re gonna have to do this differently now, beautiful.” His voice vibrated against you, making your eyes flutter closed at the light tickle that quickly spread.

“What do you mean?” You asked, still lost in the blissful nature of his touch.

“I can’t fuck you like a whore, anymore.” He said, snaking his hand up your shirt and landing it over your breast clothed only by the thin material of your bra. His thumb found your nipple through the fabric, feeling it harden under his touch. “I have to fuck you like I love you.”

“Can’t you fuck me like a whore anyway?” You challenged, not willing to give up the sex life you had already built with him. He chuckled at the disappointment in your tone, glancing up at you to catch your gaze.

“You like it better that way?” He raised an eyebrow. Your cheeks heated with a blush at the look in his eyes.

“Y-yes, sir.” You nodded.

“I tell you I love you and you behave yourself… maybe I should have said it a long time ago.” He related the two, smiling to himself as he thought about it. “How about I do both? Does that sound good to you, angel?”

“Sure, yeah.” You felt your lips upturn into a smile, happy with anything he was willing to give you.

“Glad we could come to that agreement.” He chuckled, giving your breast a gentle squeeze as he finished speaking. “Now, get in the bedroom and take your fucking clothes off. I’ve got time to make up for, and I don’t feel like waiting any longer.”

“Yes, sir.” You repeated your earlier statement, trying to ignore the ache that began between your legs. He dropped his hand from you, giving you a gentle nudge towards the bedroom. You followed his guidance, letting out a small yelp as his hand collided with your ass as you turned away. You shot him a look over your shoulder as you continued walking away, but he only responded with a wink.

You made quick progress with taking your clothes off, unashamed of your own excitement. You kicked them off to the side, peering out into the kitchen to see if he was following. When you didn’t see him or hear him walking to join you, you stepped towards the door, peeking just your head around it. You gazed out, finding your heart melt at the sight. He was peering through your cupboards, flowers in hand, in search of a vase to put them in. Eventually, he found a suitable holder for them, filling it with water and unwrapping the bouquet. He placed them inside, smiling at his own accomplishment, and turned towards your room.

He caught you staring, finding himself only slightly embarrassed at the thought. He gave you a smile as his cheeks tinged red. “What?” He asked, defending himself when there was no need to.

“Nothing,” you giggled, stepping out from the door frame so he could see you followed his instructions. He took in a sharp breath, surprised that you had been so obedient. Then, his eyes seemed to darken with lust as he got closer to you. “You’re just taking care of things out there like… oh, I don’t know, you love me or something?” He let out a scoff, rolling his eyes at your statement.

“Yeah, as if.” He teased, stepping towards you and scooping you into his arms with one swift motion. You let out a shriek of laughter, slinging your arms around his neck while you wrapped your legs around him. He found himself laughing at you, too. Your joy was infectious, and he wanted to soak up every minute of it. He pressed his lips to yours as he stepped towards the bed, breaking from the kiss for a moment to check over your shoulder and ensure there was nothing on the mattress. When he deduced that the coast was clear, he moved forward so his knees were touching the bed, then he dropped you down on the mattress without warning.

You let out a gasp of surprise as you landed with a thud, bouncing back up slightly from the impact. “What was that for?” Your lip formed into an unintentional pout, displeased with his actions, but he was too busy pulling his shirt over his head to notice.

“This is where the love part comes in.” He explained, chucking as he threw his shirt to the ground. “It’s not just about fucking you until you can’t walk; we get to have fun, too.”

“That wasn’t fun, I could’ve gotten hurt!” You exclaimed, but a smile was tugging at your lips. He unbuttoned his jeans, slipping out of them and kicking them to the side before looking back at you.

“Sweetheart, I would never do anything that would hurt you. You know that.” He scolded, playfulness still dancing in his eyes. He moved closer, climbing onto the bed and hovering atop of you for a moment. “Well, too bad, anyway.” He added, running his fingers over the lingering mark from his belt that was left from the weekend before. “Sorry about that.”

“No need to apologize.” You assured him, the sting of the leather already long forgotten in your mind. “I deserved it.”

“You can be quite a brat,” he agreed, smiling down at you. The chain around his neck dangled in the air and his hair swooped down to frame his face. The sight of him was breathtaking, and you wished you could sear the picture in your mind forever.

“You bring out the worst in me.” You shrugged, distracted by the gleam of emotion in his eye. It was different than before, less animalistic and much more complex. It was love, and even though you did not recognize it yet, you would in the days to come, for it was dancing in your eyes, too.

“I don’t think that’s true, angel.” He argued, leaning down so his lips were hovering over your bare chest. He watched you take in a sharp breath, anticipating his next move with excitement. He placed a soft kiss to the top of your breastbone, slowly making his way downward with the same gentle nature. He brought one hand to your hardened nipple, letting the rough pad of his thumb drift across the sensitive nub. Your back arched upwards in reaction. The feeling was small, and the reaction was not because of the sensation, but rather because he was the one causing it.

He brought his mouth down to your breast, letting his tongue take over for his thumb. Your eyes fluttered closed as the familiar feeling of arousal blossomed in your belly. It was so easy for him to turn you into a mess, and sometimes you wondered if he knew the extent of the power he held over you. He suctioned his lips around the nipple, letting his tongue run over it a few times to let you enjoy the moment. Once you were comfortable and unsuspecting, he let his teeth sink into you ever so slightly. You jumped at the sensation, but he’d already moved on before you could voice a complaint.

He kissed a sloppy trail down to your navel, reveling in the noises that were falling from your lips. Eventually, he paused, looking back up at you through his lashes to soak in your needy expression. His mouth was hovering just over your heat, and the ache between your legs was growing harder to ignore. You needed him, and you did not know if you could wait any longer. “What’s wrong, beautiful?” He asked, the far away look in his eyes telling you how badly he needed to hear you tell him how much you wanted him.

“Need it so bad, Jake.” You squirmed underneath his gaze, finding it almost too powerful to hold. “It’s been so long.”

“You need me?” He purred, the corners of his lips upturned into a smirk. You watched as his eyes flickered from your face to your cunt, the temptation of seeing all of you too much to resist.

“I do, sir.” You pleaded, feeling the arousal begin to push you towards insanity. You could feel his breath on your skin, teasing you without even trying. His mouth was watering from the sight alone, but he wanted to savor the moment for as long as he could. “Please, baby.” You tried again, reaching down and caressing his cheek with your thumb. You thought that the sweetness might coerce him into giving in. The soft brown of his irises were gone, now, blackened with his lust-blown pupils. He wanted you just as bad, and the soft touch of your fingers was forcing him to remember how badly he missed you.

“Do you know how much I thought about this?” He asked, grabbing your hip with one of his hands. He pulled you down ever so slightly, his mouth practically touching you, now. “How badly I wanted to see you like this?”

“How bad, sir?” You played stupid; you knew how much he thought about you because you had thought about him just as much. You wanted to hear it, to know how desperate he was for you when he couldn’t have you.

“I thought about it every night,” he muttered, his eyes now focused on your cunt, clenching around nothing just from the memory of him being inside of you. “I thought about all of those slutty little noises, how pretty you looked with my cock in your mouth.” He listed, biting back a smirk as he noticed your cheeks redden at his words. “I was worried someone else was taking care of you and that pretty little cunt.” He continued, letting a trail of spit fall from his lips onto his fingers. “Did you get someone else to take care of you, sweetheart?”

“No, sir.” You let out a shaky breath, completely enthralled by his devilish charm. The filth he was speaking even seemed to draw you in. At that moment, Jake was the only thing in the world that mattered.

“No?” He asked, almost as if he didn’t believe you. “Couldn’t find anyone else who could do it right?” You let your head fall back on the mattress as you felt his fingers run through your folds. “Nobody else could fuck you like I can, right sweetheart?”

“No, Jake.” You agreed. “Nobody else could fuck me like you can.” He let out a hum of satisfaction at your words, letting his middle and index finger slip inside you as his thumb drifted over your aching clit.

“Why is that?” He questioned, beginning to move his fingers at a slow pace. You were too immersed in the feeling of pleasure he was giving you to notice he spoke again. “Why can nobody else make you feel this way, baby?”

“Because I’m yours, Jake.” You let the possessive claim slip without care. You were his, and you only ever wanted to be his. “Because I love you.” You said, adding on to the original comment.

“Cause you’re all mine, angel.” He agreed, smiling at the thought. He curled his fingers upwards ever so slightly, hitting the sensitive spot inside you he’d grown to know so well. You let out a soft moan, moving your hips down on his hand for more. You were so desperate that under any other circumstances, you would be shameful. Now, with Jake on top of you, you couldn't care less. He knew how badly you needed him whether you said it or not; there was no hiding from Jake, and you were okay with that. “And I love you, too.” A whimper fell from your lips at the sound of his voice saying such sweet words.

“Fuck,” you groaned, feeling your abdomen tense with pleasure. You were so close, and he’d barely even started.

“Already?” He asked, amazed at the thought.

“It’s been a while,” you huffed, still too lost in the euphoria to care. “It feels so fucking good, Jake.”

“Tell me how good it feels, baby. Wanna hear all about it.” He encouraged you as he leaned down, moving his thumb from your clit and replacing it with his tongue.

“Oh, god.” You tangled your hand in his hair, needing more than he could possibly give you. Your whole body was ablaze with sin, once again falling victim to his routine. You tried so hard to stay away, but the truth was, you didn’t want to stay away. He was too fantastic at everything he did, and his company was too pleasurable to deny. You were in lust by the first touch and in love by the first conversation. Jake was something otherworldly, and you knew that from the very beginning. His love outweighed every consequence that you could face in hell. The devil was between your legs, and you were too weak to resist him. He had made you a fool for his sin, but just now were you realizing the extent of the damage.

As his fingers curled inside you again, the prescision in which they moved was almost too much too soon. You bucked your hips upwards against him, feeling the pressure rapidly increase in your stomach. You were right on the edge, and he barely had to try. He hummed against you, showing his appreciation of your enjoyment. Your heart was pounding against your chest, trying to break free from your ribs as he continued his torment. He was evil, but you could not seem to care because the evil was within you, too.

“You taste so fucking good,” he said, pulling back for just a moment to catch his breath. His words resembled a growl more than anything, and his grip tightened on your hip as he pulled you down further towards him.

“It’s all for you, baby.” You sighed, still lost in the feeling of his fingers pumping into you. He withdrew a long breath, trying to keep himself calm at the thought. There was no better feeling in the world than having you all to himself, and he never wanted to take it for granted again. Knowing he nearly lost you was painful, and he would not allow himself to be foolish enough to let you slip through his fingers again.

He returned his mouth to you, suctioning his lips sound your clit and throwing you straight back into euphoria. You tensed at the feeling, your fingers tightening in his hair as his name fell from your lips. You were praying to him as if he was the god that would save you, but he was nothing holy nor was he any force that could liberate you. He was the evil coursing through your veins, forcing you into the sin and coercing you into believing that it was right. He was the only man in the world who could drive you to such pleasure, but having such power told you that he was the exact entity you thought he was the entire time. You loved him too much to walk away, but he was too wicked to survive. As he worked you up to an orgasm, he was sucking the life from you at the same time. He was the very thing that kept your heart beating, and the very thing that would eventually take it away.

You were too far gone to realize you were in the grave; the dirt seemed pillowy and soft, warm and inviting despite the frost nipping at your skin, begging to freeze you there for the rest of eternity. Falling in love with Jake was the most painful death sentence you had ever faced, but he had such a way with his heart that he made death itself seem enjoyable. You were slipping away, but dying at his hands was the most pleasurable experience of your entire life, like it had been the exact thing you were born to experience.

The blissful feeling was so intense that you could feel it pulsing under your skin and behind your eyes. Your stomach was in knots, begging you to let go, but you feared that you would not survive the downfall. His fingers and tongue worked in time with each other to keep you on the edge, nearly pushing you over with every move. You couldn’t contain the orgasm, and he knew how close you were. Seven days without him was torture, and you felt like you had been deprived of your life’s greatest joy. He could feel how close you were; he knew your body better than you knew it yourself. The shallow breathing and the constant trail of moans that were falling from your lips told him all he needed to know, and the clench of your cunt around him solidified the idea. He was desperate for it, and you could feel that in the prescision of his movements.

“Jake,” you groaned, squeezing your eyes shut as your head dropped to the mattress. “M’gonna cum.” You warned. He gave your hip a gentle squeeze, but did not change up his movements. It was his way of giving you silent permission to do so. With a ragged breath and an insatiable burning in your chest, your legs began to tremble from the intensity of the pleasure. All of your muscles were tense and every nerve in your body felt like it was on fire. After seven days of suffering, all of the pain and suffering seemed to be disappearing from your body the longer he carried on.

His name fell from your lips, mixed with a slur of curses and moans. The obscenities painted the walls with your sin, dripping down and ensuring they would remain in the foundation of the home until the end of time. There was not a single thing in the room that was not tainted with the wicked energy the two of you were exuding. He held you to him, ensuring you could soak up every second of pleasure the climax had to offer. You felt like you were going mad; your mind was a mess with thoughts all pertaining to the boy nestled between your legs. You feared that the intensity would never pass, your limbs aching with the rigid nature of your muscles and your lungs desperate for air.

Eventually, when he began to taper off his movements, the sensation began to fade. You relaxed against the mattress, finally able to fill your lungs with oxygen. When he pulled away from you completely, you were too dazed to notice the loss of contact. Your eyes were closed, your chest rising and falling as you tried to catch up with the breaths you were deprived of momentarily. Your legs continued to tremble with the ghost of your orgasm and your stomach was still twisted into knots of pleasure. He did not move from his position, but instead got on his knees rather than laying on his stomach. His eyes were heavy with lust, crazed by the state you were in. He thought there was no way he’d be able to forget the way you looked when you were fucked out and drunk off him. It was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.

Before you even came back to reality, he was lining himself up with your entrance. He guided your legs around him with little help from you, bracing his arm on the bed just beside your head. “You’re not giving up on me yet, are you angel?” He rasped, even his voice husky with the desire he was feeling for you. You managed to crack your eyes open at the sound of his voice, the sound too beautiful to ignore.

“I’m okay,” you promised, now focused on the feeling of his cock resting against you. The idea of fucking him was enough to give you the energy to continue on. “I promise.” You said, reaching up to touch his face. The feeling caused his eyes to flutter closed and a smile to blossom on his lips.

“That’s my girl.” He crooned, savouring the sensation only for a second before he was pushing himself inside of you. As much as he wished to live in the moment forever, he could not wait any longer. You both let out a hiss of relief, already needing more than you could have. “You always feel so fucking good.” He groaned, beginning at a slow pace. As much as he teased you for being so close so soon, he felt just the same. Seven days for him felt like an eternity without you, and he never wanted to experience it again. His hips moved slowly, but powerfully. The angle he had your hips settled at allowed him to reach a depth that made your head spin.

“J-just want to make you feel good, sir.” You whined, the sensitivity making his movements feel all the more enjoyable. His eyes darkened further at your words, the obedience driving him crazy. He’d never heard you be so submissive, and he wasn’t shy about his new found love for it. Not once had he gotten you into bed and did not hear a single argument or snide comment, but despite his love for the obedience, he couldn’t help but miss the sharp tongue you so often could not keep a hold of. He loved you for all of you, even your naturally argumentative self and your tendency to talk back. He was in love with everything you had to offer, and he knew that he always would be.

To make the devil fall in love is a daunting task, but within a few weeks, you had made yourself an expert in doing so.

“Yeah? You like being a little whore for me?” He asked, adding a little more power behind his thrusts. His cock brushed against your cervix, causing you to wince at the painful type of pleasure that shot through you. “You like it when I use you for whatever I want?”

“God, yes.” You muttered, looking up to meet his eyes. The sexual tension between you was so strong that it was hard to think of anything else, but there was something deeper, now. Connection, understanding, and love. The two of you had overcome the only barrier that had ever held you back. Fear was obsolete, replaced with the desire to know and to care. It was freeing, and the world seemed full of endless possibilities, now. You could not believe you had let the anxieties hold you back from something so wonderful and so fulfilling.

Then again, you knew that beneath the elation of your realizations, Jake was the one behind it all. The fear would never have left had he not been the one who you fell for. The risk would not be worth it if it were someone else between your legs, staring down at you with such admiration. Love was not worth it unless he was the one on the recieving end, nor would it be worth it if someone else were trying to give it to you. You knew that all you feared would be kept safe, locked up in his heart for eternity the same as it was in your own. He would keep every secret, every promise, and every failure safe. He would protect it as if his life depended on it, because he did not want anyone else to know all that he knew about you. He did not want anyone else to have the chance to have you like he did, and he did not want you to think that he was not the person he made you believe he was.

Your trust was the most important to him, and your love came second to that. He wanted you to depend on him, to let him in when the days seemed dark and dreary. He wanted you to share every tear and pain that you felt in your body, and he wanted you to share every failure and mistake. He wanted the goodness, but he wanted all of the bad, too. He loved you not just for your triumphs and successes, but also for your darkest moments. He wanted to be the person you could pour your heart into, no matter if it was happiness or sadness. He wanted you in your entirety, and he would love you through every single moment of your life, and even long beyond that.

The two of you went in search of sex, something to fill the void that was steadily growing in your hearts. You wanted casual without commitment, because neither of you yearned to bear your souls to another. Your sadness, your heartbreaks and your hurt had turned you cold, and made it so you wanted to keep everyone locked out. Intimacy in the emotional aspect scared the both of you beyond comprehension, yet in your search to find something to satiate the isolation, you had found so much more. In each other, you discovered all that you feared yet all that you needed all in the same place. You were terrified of love, yet craved it so badly it made your chest ache and your head spin. You were full of mistrust, yet desperate to find someone you could share your life with without fear.

It was not your job to seek love, but it had always been your duty to break down all of the barriers that prohibited it from entering your lives. In the three months of knowing each other, you did not intend or purposely search for love within each other, but you did break down every wall and defense you had built up prior to meeting each other. Because of that, love flowed in easily and endlessly, and the two of you were able to do the very thing you swore you would never do again.

Within each other, you found home. You found a hiding place, somewhere to rest and put down the burden of life for a while. You found friendship, connection, and purpose. You found a way to conquer your biggest fears and push your own boundaries enough to allow another inside.

In Jake, you had found everything you ever needed.

In you, he found everything he ever dreamed of.

Somewhere in the universe, the divine had found a way to forgive you for the wrongdoing and allow you a moment of peace. But, evil does not rest even when it seems like it has. Beneath the surface, the wicked forces were still working overtime to turn you rotten to the core. You had engaged in so much sin that your entire life was encrypted with it. Satan himself would draw back in fear if he looked into your eyes, yet the two of you were so blissfully ignorant to the fact that you felt as though you had repented enough to free yourself from the darkness.

“Come here, angel.” He said, pulling out of you for a moment. There it was again; the heavenly connotation to a woman so evil her own skin turned red.

He collapsed on the bed beside you, reaching out and pulling you on top of him. You were so distraught with the loss of contact that you let out an audible whine, but you did not have to suffer for too long. He guided your legs on either side of him, helping you position yourself so you could continue fucking. You planted your hand firmly on his chest, holding yourself up as he lined himself up with your entrance. His hands landed on your hips, his warm touch searing your cool skin. Without warning, he pulled you down on him with a strength that made your head spin. You let out a moan, telling him how good it felt when he filled you up in such a way.

“That’s better, sweetheart.” He muttered, helping you move your hips to maintain a steady rhythm. Once you were able to keep up the pace yourself, he removed one hand from you and brought it to your clit. He let his finger begin slow circles, encouraging you silently as you rode both of you into an orgasm. “Does that feel good?”

“Feels so good, sir.” You panted, grinding your hips downwards onto him. His jaw was tense, his teeth clenched tightly as he focused on the way your body was moving on him. First, he admired your face. The twisted expression of pleasure was enough to send him into a climax, but he managed to hold himself back, wanting to enjoy you for just a little while longer. Your lips were parted slightly as obscenities fell from your tongue, dripping down onto him and drowning him in the sinful sounds. His gaze trailed down your neck, taking in every available inch of exposed skin. He studied the way the columns of your neck flowed down into your collarbones, and all the way down to your breasts which were bouncing with every movement of your body. He wanted you to be in the position solely so he could admire you without any obstruction of view.

His eyes trailed down your stomach, watching your muscles tense with the pleasure that you were feeling. He looked down at his hand anchored around your hip, his fingers digging into the skin with a promise to leave finger-shaped bruised by the morning. He could not deny the feeling of euphoria at the thought of your body being marked with memories of him for days to come. Eventually, his gaze landed on your cunt, where his hand was delicately coaxing an orgasm and your hips were jointed with his, the two of you intertwined in the most intimate and intoxicating way.

You were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and he could not hold the thought to himself. If he had to hide it, he thought he might die from the pressure of the notion pulsing against his skull.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” He said, the words almost caught in his throat as he tried to speak them. The emotion in the room was heavy, weighing both of you down and inevitably pushing you even closer together. “I love you, y/n.” The profound nature of his words made your head spin and your heart skip a beat. You looked down, catching his eyes and seeing the sincerity pooling in his gaze.

“I love you, Jake.” You whispered, your hips stuttered as you spoke. You felt locked in, like your eyes could not look away from him even if your life depended on it. “I love you so much.” You repeated, the words freeing and lifting tons of weight from your shoulders. You were so happy to finally be able to say it, and now you never wanted to stop. You wanted to tell every person you stumbled across how fantastic he was and how much he meant to you, but a smaller, more selfish part of you wanted to keep him to yourself forever. He was yours and only yours, and you were the only one in the world lucky enough to have him.

“Cum for me, angel.” He said, his voice low and dripping with desire. He gave you the permission not because he was planning on denying you the pleasure, but because he feared he might die if you did not. He needed you like the starving need food, and he could not keep up with the demands of his heart. He needed everything from you all at once, and he needed it so much that he could not even think about anything else.

With his permission, you felt another wave of euphoria wash over you. This time, it was so intense that it felt like your whole body locked in reaction to it. You managed his name through the cries of pleasure, but it was barely noticeable. The only reason he picked up on it was because he spent every waking minute waiting for you to speak his name.

“That’s it, baby.” He said, gently guiding your lower half down towards him, still circling his finger around your clit. “Being such a good girl for me.” He hummed, pulling you into a kiss as soon as you were close enough to do so. You rode out your high with your lips locked with his, letting every moan fall into his mouth. He drank up the sound, each one pushing him closer to his own climax. When you relaxed against him, he slowly removed his hand from your cunt, bringing both hands to your hips to hold you in place. You were exhausted, and he could clearly see that. He decided not to push you, instead keeping you close to him and pulling your bottom lip between his teeth while he allowed you to calm down.

When your chest returned to the steady rise-and-fall rhythm, he started his own pace again. He held your hips in place, continuing the kiss as he fucked into you, working himself back up to his own orgasm. The sensation was intense, almost overwhelming as you tried to bargain with your own sensitivity from both orgasms. His pace was bruising, like always, but it was still intoxicating. You felt your stomach burn with pleasure once again, unbelieving of how fast you could feel the pressure of another orgasm begin to build. You had to break away from the kiss to catch your breath, the feeling becoming too much to bear. You couldn’t focus on anything other than the feeling of him inside you and the way he filled you up so perfectly.

“Again?” He asked, a cocky smirk on his lips as he tried to play down his own pleasures.

“A-ah, fuck, shut up!” You hissed, stumbling over your own words. He let out a low chuckle at your response, unbothered by your harsh tone.

“S’okay, sweetheart. I know how good I make you feel.” He said, tone dripping with pride. His ego took up space in the room even when you were fucking, and you hated to admit that you loved it. He continued on his pace, now pulling you down on him with every move of his hips. It was painful, but it was addicting. You wanted more, but you feared your body would not be able to handle it. A particularly high-pitched moan let him know that you were already there once again. His head fell back on the mattress, absolutely amazed by how attracted he was to you and how badly he affected you. “That’s it,” he encouraged “look at you.” He whispered to himself, his eyes burning into your face. “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart.”

The compliment sent you over the edge for the third time, the sweet words too much for you to handle. You clenched around him, pulling him in even further as you unravelled. Your hand moved upwards grasping at his shoulder, holding yourself upright as he continued fucking into you. The pleasure was so plentiful that it quickly became the only thing you could think of; nothing else mattered other than him and the way he made you feel.

Jake was not far behind you, his movements becoming sloppy and moans falling steadily from his own lips. You thought he was ridiculous for believing you were the best thing the world had to offer, especially considering he got to wake up and look at himself in the mirror every morning. Jake was the most beautiful thing to ever walk the earth, and he was the most precious gift you’d ever had the chance to receive. His grip on you tightened as he pulled you down on him, holding you to him as he spilled his release into you. He muttered your name amidst the chaos, almost like it was the only thing he knew how to speak.

Instead of pulling out, he rested inside of you for a moment, pulling your top half down closer so he could wrap his arms around you. You rested your cheek against his chest, closing your eyes in bliss as you soaked up the intimacy you had missed so much. His hand traced shapes into your back, the delicate touch sending shivers down your spine and causing goosebumps to scatter across your skin. You ran your fingers through his hair, twisted the ends of the locks between your fingers as you listened to the soft thud of his heartbeat against his chest.

Love was filling the room, and this time, you both allowed yourselves to feel it. You welcomed it with open arms, inviting it in with a smile. It was in every touch and every breath, living in every word and shared glance. In that moment, life could not have been better. He moved his head down, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. He let his lips linger there for a moment, closing his eyes as he thanked every higher power for allowing you to enter his life.

“I love you.” He muttered, the words coming out muffled due to his mouth still resting on your head. You smiled, the kind that made your cheeks hurt and your mind forget what it felt like to frown.

“I love you.” You said, placing a kiss to his chest.

“You want to get cleaned up?” He asked.

“Yeah,” you sighed, nodding against him. “Then we can go to bed.” His chest burned with excitement at the thought of falling asleep next to you again, but he kept his thoughts to himself.

Carefully, he withdrew from you and you both stood. He stayed close to you as you walked to the bathroom, fearful that if you got too far away, he’d lose you forever. You made quick work and cleaning yourselves off, both eager to get into bed and hold each other until you fell asleep. As you walked back to your bedroom, he stopped and grabbed his bag he left in the kitchen, bringing it back with him. You grabbed one of his shirts from your drawer and threw it over your head. He slipped his boxers back on and waited for you to get into bed before joining you.

When you were both under the covers, he wasted little time turning on his side and pulling you closer to him. He settled his arm around your waist as you pressed your back against his chest. “Thank you for coming back, Jake.” You whispered, sleepiness laced in your tone.

“Are you kidding me?” He scoffed, also speaking quietly. “I want going to let you get away that easily.” You giggled at his words, snuggling in even closer. He tightened his arm around you, pulling you further into him.

“Thank you for not giving up on me.” You said, more specific than the last time. He didn’t respond straight away, instead nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck.

“I will fight for you until my very last breath, sweetheart.” He said, simply and seriously. He meant every word, and he did not want you to believe otherwise. “I love you, beautiful.”

“I love you, Jake.” You smiled to yourself as you closed your eyes, sleep calling to you and quickly taking over. In your last conscious moment, you felt the warmth of his love surrounding you, but a familiar dread settled in your stomach. You loved him, and he loved you, but was it really going to be so easy? After struggling to give yourselves to each other, you had a hard time believing that the rest of your life could be so simple. More than that, you still feared the sins the two of you committed just to be together in that moment. Jake was the love of your life, and that was without a doubt. What did worry you was all of the other conclusions you had drawn about him, specifically in regards to his devilish nature.

Was a mortal man laying beside you, or had you invited Satan himself into your home until the end of time?

According to Wikipedia, ‘the seven deadly sins, also known as the capital vices or cardinal sins, is a grouping and classification of vices within Christian, particularly Catholic, teachings. According to the standard list, they are pride, greed, wrath, envy, lust, gluttony and sloth, which are contrary to the seven heavenly virtues.’ The seven deadly sins you had committed with ease and little regret. You fell into the trap without even realizing it, and from there, you could not stop the rapid progression of your godless acts. You had sinned so much that you had forgotten what a virtue was, but more than that, the seven deadliest sins held no weight compared to the sin that only you had been indulging in.

The world did not know about the most sacrilegious of sins because he was in your bed with his arm draped around you, sleeping soundly. You were the only person in the world who knew the extent of his evil. He was more powerful than lust, and more intense than greed. He was greener than envy and he was more vicious than wrath. Jake Kiszka was the eighth, undiscovered, most deadly sin of all. He was all of the vices combined, and more so, the only force in the world that could be strong enough to make you commit all of them in one go. He was the embodiment of evil, thus leaving no other way to describe him; he was the devil, and instead of fearing him, you felt lucky to be in his presence.

You had sinned so much that somewhere along your wicked warpath, you’d sprouted devil horns of your own. His power did not scare you, because you held the same one within your heart. The only match for him was you, and the two of you were tied together with barbed wire and chains, now. When you moved too fast, the ache from the tension spread to your bones, but his kiss satiated the pain. Most of the time, his love was so good that you did not feel the restraints around you at all.

So seven became eight, and the sin had finally come to an end. Yours and Jake’s souls were intertwined infinitely, tainted with the blackness of evil and scorching with the heat of flames. You had reached your deadly end, and you had always feared that once the devil had made home, there was no escaping him. Now, the devil was for certain to stay, and you knew deep in your heart that no amount of repent would rid you from the damage you caused and the guilt that came with it. As you fell asleep wrapped up in him, you thanked god for bringing him back to you whilst knowing he was the very thing god was trying to strike down.

A fear settled deep in the pit of your stomach, wondering if soon, god would realize your mistakes and make his first attempt at striking you down, too.

TAGLIST: @sacredjake @profitofthedune @thewritingbeforesunrise @sacredthethreadgvf @klarxtr @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @freefallthoughts @jaketlove @clairesjointshurt @ageofbajabule @dannys-dream @earthgrlsreasy @starshine-gvf @brujamagik @gvfmarge @ignite-my-fire @twistedmelodies @gretavangroupie @alwaysonthemend @edgingthedarkness @gvfpal @sinarainbows @writingcold @starcatcher-jake @literal-dead-leaf @takenbythemadness @gretasfallingsky @hsfallingsky @freyjalw @itsafullmoon @lyndz2names @blacksoul-27 @i-love-gvf @vikingsisthenewsexy @mp0801 @mindastreamofcolours @indigogvf @sparrowofthedawnsworld @jordie-gvf @cassy-face @highway-tuna @creadliz98 @dancingcarbon @do-it-jakey-baby @lallisonl

[dearpyramus]

a different side of you: a lip gallagher x reader oneshot

while working on a school project, you catch a glimpse of a different side of lip gallagher

warnings: none! (for once)

a/n: apologizies this is so short i kinda rushed but its been hard finding motivation lately. hope that's ok. some rivals to lovers (or as least as much as I could fit in)

(fic btc)

It was a long fucking afternoon.

You had the misfortune of being paired up with Lip Gallagher, of all people, for an important school project. It took too long for you both to find time to work on it, who knows what Lip was doing with his time. It took even longer for you to agree on how you wanted to execute it.

You wanted to scream. God, he was insufferable.

The patter of the rain from outside was the only thing keeping you calm. You always found serenity in storms. The chaos of it all was relaxing in a way.

Maybe that’s why you were secretly enjoying your time in the Gallagher house today. You didn’t want to think of it.

A flash of lighting followed by a roar of thunder allowed you to settle a bit. This was quickly interrupted by the soft sound of a whine. You furrowed your brows in confusion, clearly it wasn’t coming from Lip.

Almost in sync, you and Lip turned your head to the source of the noise. By the doorway of the latter’s bedroom stood Liam Gallagher, Lip’s baby brother. Your eyes couldn’t help but dart to Lip’s, who was sporting a soft frown.

“What’s wrong, bud?”

This was a stark contrast to his usual demeanor and it nearly caused you to do a double take. You never heard Lip speak in this voice; so soft it was almost a coo. You didn’t know what to think at first. You didn’t want to think about how it made your heart flip.

Liam’s was about to reply when another crackle of thunder boomed throughout the night sky. This earned another whine from the tiny kid, who was nervously grasping the hem of his Blues Clues pajamas.

You could have sworn you heard him let out an “awww.” You weren’t quite sure, though.

Before you could register any movement, Lip got up and gently scooped his kid brother in his arms. You didn’t miss the way Liam clung onto him, as if he was an anchor amidst the storm. You wanted to look away; it was too fucking precious. Who know Lip Gallagher could pull at your heartstrings like that?

“Awww ya scared of the storm? Is that it?”

At Lip’s words, Liam nodded against his chest. His tiny body trembled, causing Lip’s brows to furrow.

“Hey hey—shhhh. It alright, buddy. The storm can’t hurt you. You’re okay,” he murmured, slowly beginning to rock Liam back and forth.

You tried to pay attention to your portion of the project but your eyes were constantly drawn to the scene in-front of you. Obviously, you knew Lip wouldn’t be mean to his brother, yet you didn’t expect this. Any chance of getting anything done at that moment was momentarily abandoned.

Why was this so heartwarming to you? You couldn’t stand Lip.

“Just relax. I’m here, I’m here. Just focus on me, okay?”

Lip continued to comfort Liam as if you weren’t there. Either he didn’t catch you staring or just ignored you, too occupied with his distressed brother. He rubbed circles into his tiny back and shushed him during each thunder strike. Eventually, you noticed he began to hum an incoherent tune. It was too much.

“That’s it, I gotcha…big brother’s here. Big brothers right here,” he soothed, voice so soft you could just barely make out the words. Liam seemed to visibly relax as Lip resumed his comforts.

“Nothing will happen to you, I promise”

God, you hated how much it was affecting you. Never did you except loud-mouthed Lip Gallagher to be so soft spoken. You wanted to cry at the sight. You secretly wished you would see this side of Lip more often, maybe you would tolerate him more. Maybe.

tagged for: @maggiesarchives @mouseymilkovich @golden-hoax @its-rach-writes

dividers

[p4rallel-universe]

brokeback

(Lip Gallagher x male reader)

summary: when Ian leaves the club for good, he brings home a friend from work to crash at the Gallagher house for a bit. Lip is drawn to him a bit more than he'd like to admit, and he isn't sure what it means.

"who's this?" Lip questions as he enters the gallagher house to find Ian on the couch and next to him, another guy of a seemingly similar age. a few bags are on the floor between them. the guy looks sheepish as Ian speaks up.

"this is Y/N, we worked together at the club. left that place for good and he decided to join me. he's gonna stay here for a bit, i'll take care of him though. don't worry about it." Ian explains and Lip nods, lighting up a cig as he walks to the kitchen. "good to meet you," he mumbles as he walks off, and you sigh in relief.

you felt awful, really, intruding on your friends house like this, but when Ian announced he was sick of being thrown around like a piece of meat at the club and was going to leave for good, you figured you'd follow. tips weren't nearly as good as they used to be, so they stopped making up for the whole starving-yourself-just-to-be-groped-by-old-guys thing. you didn't have a plan for leaving. no family and no friends who weren't in similar situations, so Ian suggested you crash at his family's place till you figure it out. Ian could be crazy unhinged, but he was a damn good friend.

Ian invites you upstairs and you pick up your stuff, it isn't much, but it proves to be quite heavy. you see Ian's brother - you're sure his name is Phil or something - in the kitchen. he's in an off white wife-beater drinking orange juice from the carton and you notice his arms are pretty nice. then you realise lusting after your friends brother who you're staying with for the forseeable probably isn't smart.

you decide to get an early night, Ian helps you settle in and says goodnight. you can't thank him enough for it all, really. he leaves to head downstairs as you try get some sleep.

"so, new friend, huh?" Lip asks Ian as they share a cig on the back porch,

"yeah, he used to be a dancer at the club, same as me," Ian explains as he takes a puff,

"so we got another gay under the gallagher roof then?" Lip jokes with a bit too much intensity and he cringes, because he doesn't mean it that way, "i feel like a dick, you know, not saying hi or anything."

"nah don't worry about it, he's just glad you didn't throw him out the second you saw him." this makes Lip smile and he doesn't know why,

"cool." he says, tossing the burnt-out cig and heading inside. and when he walks past his old room where Y/N is asleep he pretends he doesn't want to crack open the door and check on him. and when he tries to sleep he hopes the fact he can't stop thinking about another guy doesn't mean anything.

the next morning Y/N comes downstairs ready to make a better impression, Lip is at the breakfast table, just about the leave when he sees you.

"hey," Lip nods to you and Y/N greets him back, "you want some of this? i gotta leave soon anyway."

when Lip passes Y/N the plate their hands brush and Lip's lingers for a bit longer than it maybe should've. when Y/N looks right in his eyes he feels too strange not to leave right there. so he does, and Y/N is left at the table, flustered and very confused. and maybe a bit too hopeful.

Ian is outside on the porch drinking a beer when Y/N finds him and sits with him. Ian offers the bottle and Y/N takes it, taking a sip and grimacing.

"tastes like the club." you joke and Ian chuckles taking another swig, "so, your brother- Phil?"

"Lip." he corrects,

"yeah, Lip, what's his deal anyway?" you ask, trying not to sound too curious, and the look Ian gives you makes you think you didn't do a very good job.

"what d'you mean?" he looks at you, puzzled,

"i dunno, he seems...edgy? like nervous, he practically threw himself out the door when i came down for breakfast." you joke and take another sip of the cold drink you're sharing,

"huh, doesn't sound like Lip...maybe he's into you" Ian gives you a look and you both burst into a fit of laughter. Ian is laughing because the idea of his own brother liking another guy AND getting flustered around him is a joke in his mind. Y/N is laughing because he's not sure what else to do when he can't help but feel drawn to his new temporary roommates very attractive, very enigmatic, very straight brother.

on the other side of the city, Lip throws a book across an empty room because he can't get you out of his head. when he picks the textbook up off the ground, he isn't sure if he recognises the hands infront of him.

that night, Lip gets home late. it's dark outside and in the Gallagher house. dark and strangely, quiet. Ian's already upstairs in bed, having an early night. Lip sniffles from the cold and takes his jacket off, throwing it over the couch, when he flicks on the room light, he sees Y/N sat at the kitchen island.

Lip nods to him because he's not sure what else to do, "couldn't sleep", Y/N says and offers the cigarette in his hands over to Lip, who walks over and tentatively takes it, bringing it to his lips. he's still close enough now that when he exhales, the smoke blows into Y/N's face. Lip's eyes shine bright in the still-dim light.

Lip flicks the cig away, not caring where it lands and Y/N's brow furrows until Lip grabs his face and slams his lips onto his. it's rough and messy because Lip is scared and Y/N is surprised. it would hurt a lot more if they both hadn't secretly craved it for days. when Lip pulls away his blue eyes look apologetic and just as he plans to brush the whole thing off, apologise, it was his bad, and take off upstairs or outside or anywhere else, Y/N grabs his face again and pulls him into a much more gentle kiss.

it's still a bit aggressive, but deliciously so. Lip's hands aren't sure where to go until they find themselves on Y/N's back. and he feels steady, and strong. and okay. this is okay. when Y/N's hands tenderly tangle themselves in his hair they both smile into the kiss.

when they finally part, their eyes both shine in the dim light with the kind of happiness you can only get from a night like this. with dim light, and a guy you can't stop thinking about. and everything smells and tastes of cigarette smoke.

and when they both go to sleep that night, they can finally close their eyes.

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Espansivo

Chapter Twenty four

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Sam, Tiny, Sera Siege, Charlie, Donna, Jody, Patience, Nancy Fitzgerald, Andy Gallagher, Lee/Pam, Gibson child OMC, Annie/Bobby, Kevin

Word Count: 2308

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, hope

A/N: Dean gets to do the thing he loves to do. The brothers have a moment. The band gets ready to rock.

Series Masterlist

Dean rolled over in bed and smiled to himself. Tonight, he’d be on stage, starting the tour at home with back-to-back nights at the Forum. They were due in for set up and soundcheck by three, but he and Sam usually got there earlier. Plus, he wanted to check in on Jody and Donna. He hadn’t got the chance to talk to them since the conference call with their band, manager and Crowley and Bobby. 

Sheriffs, Psychics and Secretaries was their opener for the whole stretch, giving them a softer, sultrier intro than most of their fans expected. But Dean liked to play favorites, and once he found out they were free, he made it happen. Bobby helped, having worked with Jody when she was barely out of high school and starting out as a background singer.

The four piece all women band would definitely boost their Canadian ticket sales and Dean hoped to collaborate a bit further down the schedule.

He should have gotten up, but instead he just unplugged his phone and checked his messages. The band was pumped, Pam texted at seven with a pic of Gibson in one of the latest shirts from merch, which Dean hadn’t even seen yet. Then there was Kevin, who sometime after midnight asked how often they’d be able to do laundry, packing at the last minute like a true rookie.

Luckily, Pam had answered without too much sarcasm, so Dean didn’t feel bad for missing it. He sent a ‘get pumped’ gif and finally crawled out of bed.

As much as he loved touring, there was one thing that hotel rooms couldn’t compete with and that was his own custom-made shower. So Dean took his time, luxuriating beneath the hot water and amazing pressure. If he rubbed one out to take the edge off before a long day, that was his business.

And if the image of you on your knees in said shower was what pushed him over, he’d never admit it.

He got dressed and found the lukewarm pot of coffee Sam left for him in the empty kitchen. Dean sipped his coffee and strolled around the house, saying a silent ‘see ya later’. Their luggage and instruments littered the foyer, waiting for Tiny to pick them up and store what they didn’t need on the bus until they left Sunday night.

He finished his coffee on the pool deck, making sure the hot tub lid was on tight and everything else was put away. He knew their people would take care of anything he missed, but it helped him feel prepared to go through the motions. He’d never forgiven himself for not cleaning out the fridge before their first tour and ended up having to buy a whole new one.

Sam showed up with food and an extra set of toiletries and chargers for them both. Another thing they learned the hard way along the way. Always keep a set of clean underwear and a spare shirt, toothbrush, and deodorant in a backpack, just in case. And they didn’t even fly.

“Thanks, man,” Dean held up his pharmacy bag in gratitude, set it on the counter where he wouldn’t miss it and put his mug in the dishwasher.

Sam settled onto one of the stools, unwrapped his sandwich, and asked before he took a bite, “you ready?”

“Are you kidding?! I’m fucking stoked.” Dean shoved some chips into his mouth and waited as Sam finished chewing.

“No, I know, just checking in. It’s a long tour— longest we’ve ever done.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Dean looked down at his food and sighed. “Is it weird that the length doesn’t scare me? It almost feels right, like the longer we go, the more we prove them wrong?”

“The proverbial them? Yeah, I get it. It’s a marathon and they’re used to a sprint.”

“Exactly.” Dean bit into his own sandwich, the mayo pooled at the corners of his mouth and he savored the mix of flavors and textures. Damn, Sam still got him what he liked, even if it’d kill him someday.

“And Missouri is good with video-conferencing?”

Dean nodded and swallowed, wiping off the mess on his face. “Yeah, honestly we barely meet in person anymore anyway. She knows we’ll be on the road.”

“Okay, cool.”

Dean watched Sam’s mouth pinch as he thought of other things he should ask Dean. And things he didn’t want to bring up but probably should.

“It’s okay, let me have it. What else has got you so constipated?”

Sam looked pained at the accusation, but he huffed and got over it. “Look, I just need to know you’ve got a backup plan— plans even. If something sets you off, things you can do to keep it together or work through it or whatever.”

“Bobby asked you to check on me, didn’t he?”

Sam glared. “Can you blame him?”

Dean tossed his napkin on the counter and rocked back on his heels. “No, I guess not.”

“Trouble too— wanted to make sure you weren’t too distracted with the Bela stuff to tour.”

“She said that?”

“In not so many words.”

Dean chewed on that for a second. “Huh.”

Maybe you weren’t so unaffected after all. 

“I’m good, man. I’ve got the tools okay? Breathing, meditation or mindfulness or whatever it’s called these days, but also I can hit the gym if it’s too much or even call Missouri if it’s an emergency. I know what to do. And besides, it’s not like I’m used to living in the rage high these days— you know? I’m not that guy anymore.”

Sam looked Dean in the eye, his puppy dog eyes were intense but forgiving. “I know you’re not— I’m proud of you by the way. That guy last tour would have cussed me out for even asking.”

“Or broke your nose,” Dean agreed.

“If you could even reach it,” Sam teased.

Dean rolled his eyes and dug back into his lunch.

Dean pulled his guitars out of the back of the black Yukon Tiny had picked them up in. His sunglasses and cap on tight as he kept his head on a swivel in the underground parking ramp, knowing there’d be photographers all over the place as soon as they could weasel their way in. Once Sam had a bass on his back, his own acoustic in one hand and another bass in the other they headed inside, with Tiny and Co’s escort and curt nods toward the venue staff.

They were greeted by a very flustered event coordinator named Sera who wasn’t expecting them for another hour.

“Not a problem, we’ll stay out of your hair. Can’t do much until Charlie is ready for sound check anyway.”

“The redhead?” She squirmed, clearly annoyed. “She’s already here, too. Look— just don’t break anything. Your publicist is sorting through badges down the hall, please just have your security team meet with Mike, our security head before anybody starts moving freely beyond this level— or the stretch of dressing rooms.”

Dean and Sam shared a look, they never expected special treatment, but as the headliners they had come to expect a little more, not reverence, but respect at least.

“Whatever you say lady,” Dean agreed and picked his instruments back up so as not to seem like he’s getting too comfortable.

She motioned for her assistant to follow them as she stormed down the hall the opposite direction they’d arrived from.

“We asked the opening band to stay on their bus until we could vouch for them, but now that you’re here— we can do that. Where’s your manager anyhow? I thought I had sent him all of this already?”

“He’s with the road crew, Bobby likes to work his way in. So, let me get this straight, you haven’t let anyone besides our head tech and publicist in yet today?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ve been charmed too many times by an accent Mr. Winchester— they’ll get their passes and everyone can do their jobs.”

He did not envy whatever bullshit spiel she’d given Benny.

She gestured for Sam and Dean to lead the way into a small cul-du-sac of offices in which they instantly spotted you in the middle one, untangling lanyards with a stack of plastic ids stacked in multiple piles all strewn across a usurped desk.

“Oh thank god!” You practically growled. “Here.”

Dean set down his guitars and took his pass and handed Sam his, who was shuffling awkwardly inside the small space. 

“You seen Bobby?” Sam asked you.

You rolled your eyes. “No, but he hasn't stopped calling me to figure this out. So I’m going to go start handing these out, please go find Victor so the girls can get situated. I feel like they got the unwelcome wagon this morning— after hauling ass down from Vancouver, too”

“On it,” Dean agreed. “Just gotta drop off our gear and we’ll go find ‘em.”

The venue’s staff all seemed to have other places to look than at the very urgent glares from you and the brothers.

“I’m sorry, I’m just used to a lot more layers to an organization than however it is you’re set up,” Sera snipped, sidestepping behind her desk that you had clearly pushed back to make room for sorting.

“Yeah, we don’t hand off stuff to underpaid lackeys, this band is a family business,” Dean snapped back.

“Clearly,” she said unamused, eying the space between Dean and you suspiciously. 

It was then that he realized you were both wearing ratty Zeppelin shirts and he exhaled. He turned to Sam and tipped his head back toward the hall, Sam nodded in agreement and then Dean leaned in to whisper to you, “good luck.”

You grunted in your throat, but faux smiled at him at the same time, basically saying ‘you’re lucky I love my job.’

If Dean could muster up some bravery and more self esteem, that smile could have been saying ‘you’re lucky I love you.’

“You got this,” he insisted and turned to once again haul his gear back down the dark concrete hall.

SPS, as Jody and Donna’s band was dubbed for ease, all practically tackled Dean after he knocked on the door to their tour bus and brought them their golden tickets.

“Dean-o, it’s so good to see ya,” Donna beamed, stealing his hat and turning it backward in order to plant a wet one on his cheek.”

He chuckled, “you too, D-train. Alright, ladies, let’s get you unloaded. Sam’s outside, too, so put him to work.”

He hugged Jody next and then shook Nancy’s hand, since she was more reserved with her physical affection than the others. And lastly there was Patience, who mimed slugging him on the shoulder before giving him a side-armed hug. 

“Thanks for putting our name in the ring, can’t tell you what this means to us, Dean.”

“Nah, come on. Besides, you guys earned it. Let’s get you ready to kill tonight, alright?”

Her big brown eyes sparkled and Dean suddenly realized he was ushering in a new generation of musicians. Between her, Nancy and Kevin, this was the youngest troupe they’d worked with since the rest of them were that age.

“It’s going to be amazing.”

Something in Dean knew she was right.

Pamela reassembled her kit herself after absolutely admonishing the rookie roadies who had dared to start without her. Annie had Gibson in the wings as Phantom Traveler took the stage. Their mics were a nightmare to sort out, but Charlie was good at what she did so she got everything in line and prepped before they got too far behind. She’d also helped SPS and the in-house tech team so they could maximize the space. It was a helluva venue to start off in, but Dean wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Opening night’s setlist had been locked since the second rehearsal, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t expand it if they were so inclined. Encores might have become expected, but the number of songs could always vary.

So Dean had them go over a few untouched oldies, things he wanted dusted off, just in case.

The energy between the band was unmatched. Easy smiles and intuitive rifts flowed forth the longer they played. Sure, they were nervous, Dean and Kevin probably the most. But it wasn’t fear, it was anticipation.

Dean soared with each note. It had been so long since he’d felt this alive. And after the past few years and the places he’d been, the things he’d put them all through, especially after losing Cas’, it finally felt like he had pulled himself out of the abyss. His band beside him, Dean was ready for the tour, but also whatever came after. 

As they were moving things to the wings for SPS to take the stage in a mere two hours and six minutes, Dean heard your laugh over the chaos. Looking around, he spotted you and Andy, the band’s go to photographer getting candid shots of the crew and band. It was like night and day, seeing you relaxed and excited now, compared to how frustrated and embarrassed you had been earlier in Sera’s office.

Dean knew he was in trouble this tour, having you so close, so present, and for so long was going to kill him slowly. Or his resolve at least. He’d taken on the Bela deal to get back in everyone’s good graces. And he’d even had some fun. 

But she wasn’t you.

Sam knew it and he was pretty sure Bobby and Annie knew it too.

Maybe if tonight went well, maybe it’d be enough.

Maybe he could be free from the tabloids and Twitter feeds and be allowed to make his own decisions again.

Maybe it was time for more.

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

@brightlilith

@coldhearted93

@djs8891

Chapter 25: Vivace

[southsidestory]

Chapter 1: Grounds for Harassment

Mickey knows he’s a piece of shit. It’s easy to forget sometimes, like how piss in the carpet stops stinking after it’s settled, but every now and then he’ll think something so awful that he remembers, Oh, yeah. Piece of shit.

That happens when Mandy says Ian Gallagher messed with her (and not in the good way). Because Mickey’s first thought is that Mandy is lying, and his second is thank fuck.

Getting to hunt down Ian is the best thing that’s happened to Mickey in months.

“What he do to you, exactly?”

“I’m not giving you the gross details!” Mandy shouts.

She leans against the front door, blocking the handle, as if he’s stupid enough to go inside the house.

He’s been locked out for a week. A whole fucking week of stealing food from corner stores, taking a leak behind buildings, and sleeping in icy alleys. He can’t even remember what he did to set Ronnie off this time, but his uncle must still be angry if Mandy won’t let him in on the sly.

Mickey sniffs back snot, then spits on the porch. He hopes he’s not getting a goddamn cold. “Will you at least let me in after I beat the shit out of Ian?”

Mandy tugs on a lock of her hair. “If Uncle Ronnie will let me.”

“That’s some award-winning gratitude right there.”

“You got to know that I want to let you in,” Mandy whines. “But if I do he’ll kick me out with you and—”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m not a moron.” Mickey adjusts his coat and scratches his cheek, moving dirt from his skin to under his fingernails. “Guess I’ll just keep smelling like a pig sty.”

He’ll probably knock Ian back with his stench, won’t even have to hit him.

“If it makes you feel any better, the water’s turned off, so you couldn’t shower anyway,” Mandy says. “Nobody paid the bill again.”

“You look squeaky fucking clean for a girl who’s got no running water at home.”

Mandy picks at her cuticles. A tell that means shame. “I showered at a friend’s house last night.”

“Ah. That code for ‘fucked a dude in exchange for basic hygiene’?”

Mandy grabs a crumpled beer can off the porch and lobs it at him. Mickey catches it and passes it between his hands. Left, right. Left, right.

“Maybe I should hit up Angie Zhago. Trade a ride on my dick for a bath.”

And a bed. Speckled bruises cover his right side from the cracked pavement and gravel he slept on last night.

“Are you going to beat up Ian or stand here all day with your thumb up your butt?” Mandy asks.

Mickey turns away, shoots his sister the bird over his shoulder, and hurries down the steps.

He could go to the shelter for a shower and a hot meal, but he’d rather stay freezing, filthy, and hungry than deal with a bunch of homeless assholes. Half of them are plain batshit, most would steal his stuff if he doesn’t take it into the shower with him, and plenty are actual rapists (unlike Ian) who’ll think he’s an easy target because he’s young and short.

No shower, no food. Time to find his brothers, or maybe some cousins, and get down to business.

Read more of If You Have a Problem on AO3

***

AN: I swore to post the first chapter of If You Have a Problem before the end of the day, and I did it! (barely lol)

Tagging some kind folks who expressed interest on my teaser posts

@poisonedquiver @marstheterrible @5ammi90 @freitasgst @darlingian @ianandmickeygallavich1 @definenormalifyoucan @jadejabbers @ifconfusionwasaperson @machinegunbieber-blog @callivich @tsuga-of-mars

Many thanks to everyone who supported my teasers, as well as my wonderful betas @bawlbrayker and @hamspamandjamsandwich <3

[twopoppies]

Oasis are getting back together. 1D next!

Hm. Maybe my shady anon from the other week who said Oasis would reunite and Louis would join them on stage wasn't being a troll. LMAO!

Amid this weekend’s Reading Festival — which the Britpop band headlined 24 years ago today in 2000 — reports emerged that the Gallagher brothers have settled their 15-year feud and will announce a series of 2025 gigs in the U.K., including a 10-night stand at Wembley Stadium (breaking Taylor Swift’s just-set record of eight concerts) and shows at their native Manchester’s Heaton Park. The Times U.K. first reported the rumors, claiming “industry insiders” confirmed that Oasis would reunite onstage for the first time since August 2009, with an announcement imminent, perhaps as early as this Tuesday. The rumors quickly spread to social media Saturday, eventually catching the attention of Liam Gallagher, who tweeted in response to fans inquiries, “News to me” and “I know nothing.” As the day progressed, however, Gallagher — perhaps truthfully, perhaps mockingly — began the fan the flames of the reunion rumors. When one fan said they were “scared” about Tuesday’s potential announcement, Gallagher tweeted, “Your scared how do you think I feel.” Most tellingly, when one fan complained about Oasis playing Heaton Park, a “terrible venue,” Liam quipped back, “See you down the front you big fanny.” The teasing continued Sunday morning: When asked when the tour dates will be announced, Liam said, “Nxt Friday.” When asked about his plans for 2025, he tweeted, “World domination.”

full article here

[anychou]

MICKEY WASN'T JUMPING ON THE BED

"What happened to you?"

"Fuck off Lip!"

Ian chuckles at the interaction between his husband and his brother. Of course out of all the people in the Gallagher's living room when they entered, Lip had to be the one acknowledging the brace on Mickey's right shoulder. That's just his luck. Right when Mickey had stopped complaining!

"Did you fall?" Liam asked.

"More like bounced!" Ok, so given the death glare he's just received from Mickey Milkovich Gallagher, it is too early to laugh about it. That shit is funny though. Ian will definitively tell the story when things have settled down a little.

Oh shit! Lip got what happened, Ian can see it in his fucking crooked smile. He looks at his brother intently, trying to convey his begging to not say anything. Lip sees it, understands it. The brothers can communicate with one look only.

"How's the air mattress treating you, Mick? Any bouncy sex lately?" Asshole!

"Oh shit!" That's Debbie and Carl in unison when they finally understand the origin of their brother in law injury.

"I don't want to know!" Liam says, he understands he's missing something and that it's sex related. Enough information for him to know he doesn't need any more. It seems sometimes his siblings forget he's just a child after all. Liam swiftly exits the room as Ian - very much to Mickey dismay - starts recounting how his husband ended up dislocating his shoulder.

"Wow," Carl says with disturbing admiration, "you're... like... very strong!" Ian cannot hide his proud smile. He's about to answer when Mickey cuts him off, obviously done with all the Gallagher 'no privacy' nonsense.

"Yeah, surprise, I like it hard! Are we done? Can we go?" Mickey is already in the move as he speaks

"Where're you going?" Debbie asks.

"To buy a new bed." Ian's answer is matter-of-fact and his siblings reactions seem to state that it's the evident course of action.

"Gallagher!" Mickey's exasperated tone as he shouts from the open front door tells Ian he needs to get to moving now. But he cannot help one last cocky comment as he joins his husband.

"Yeah, sure, let's bounce!"

[rayrayor]

Mickey Milkovich and his sister Mandy are new to Chicago, after fleeing their father. Mandy has settled into work with Fiona Gallagher while Mickey is stuck with a creeping, married boss, Kash Karib.

When Fiona offers him an out from the dead end Kash and Grab, he makes his way to her brother’s nightclub. The gay club fascinates him, even if he is not gay, Terry beating that into him his whole life.

Even more fascinating is the owner Ian, Gallagher. Tall , old movie star handsome, mobster. And gay. The charming and dangerous owner makes no bones about being smitten by the traumatized, nerdy, mamas boy working in his club.

Will Mickey let Ian in and share his most damning secrets?

A nerdy Mickey, mafia Ian, romance only asked for by my brain😁 This is a slow burn, sweet romance with some angst and ass kicking along the way .

[thepupperino]

First Line Analysis

Hi I’m a little late but I was tagged for this by @wehangout, @lingy910y, @roryonic, @jrooc, and @blue-disco-lights and I figured better late than never

RULES: post the first lines of your last 10 fics/chapters posted on AO3 (if you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics) and try to draw some conclusions.

1. Ian Gallagher has made some mistakes in his life. (Sinner)

2. It’s 11:16 PM on a Monday and he’s drunk. (dial drunk)

3. Mickey’s mostly alone, and he likes it that way. (strange encounters)

4. He hates Mickey Milkovich. (say don’t go)

5. Mickey’s shocked when someone settles onto the stool beside him at the bar. (The Hands of Fate)

6. There’s no place Mickey would rather be, and he woulda killed you if you’d told him that five years ago. (Help Me Hold Onto You)

And that’s all I have posted but I’m no quitter so have some first lines from some yet-unposted WIPs :)

7. Mickey Milkovich is a dirty fuckin’ liar. (Untitled 7x10 Thing)

8. Mickey wakes with a start, consumed by an overwhelming heat. (Untitled ABO Husbands Thing)

9. Mickey’s had a splitting headache since the moment he and his brothers stormed into the Kash and Grab this morning, a searing pain right behind his eyes that makes him dizzy. (Untitled Canon Compliant Soulmate AU Thing That Sometimes I Love)

10. “There’s my favorite star!” Tatianna greets, pulling Ian in for a hug. (Untitled Celebrity AU Inspired by @spacerockwriting)

Okay and the analysis is I love insulting my characters apparently?

I feel like I’m too late to tag people because I don’t know who already did it, so do it if you want to please (and then also tag me please)!

[garmgeyr]

The Art of Remembering

@omnipicureans: OPIA ( . . . ) the ambiguous intensity of looking someone in the eye, which can feel simultaneously invasive & vulnerable. Obscure Feelings prompts | no longer accepting

« After that, Gallagher used the Enigmata's power to once again activate this soaring Dreamscape unfettered by The Family's shackles — this is the origin of Dreamflux Reef. »

”Do you see it yet?”

”Bring her down.”

With a roar of the engines, the ship rocked violently. A shrill, out-of-sync cacophony of alarms filled the cockpit in a flurry of red and white flashing lights. Micah had been a pilot for years by then, once a member of the rebellion’s combat fleet, now the newly-crowned heir to the Watchmaker’s name, but no amount of experience could save you in a contest of raw strength. He wrestled the wheel, the points of every knuckle pressed up against the leather of his gloves in sharp ridges, the soft lines of age between his eyebrows darkened into deep furrows of concentration. The stabilizer blinked rapidly just off to his right. His eyes darted to it, but the wheel jerked out from his loosened grip the instant he tried to reach for it. He grabbed it again and pulled back hard, the muscle along his jaw tightening until the blue vein that streaked under the pale, nearly translucent skin near his temple raised.

”I hope you’re holding onto something back there,” he said through gritted teeth, and then all at once the ship settled with one long, metallic groan.

An unsteady stillness overcame the cabin, its sirens still blaring in discordance until, one-by-one, the pilot flicked them all off. Then there was only the creak of cooling metal, and the hum of idling engines over yawning memoria.

”I don’t know what that was,” Micah admitted and hesitantly took his hands off the wheel to twist around and check on his passenger, who was just now picking himself up off the steel floor with the help of the leather straps bolted to the wall.

”Are you alright?”

”Where’d you learn to fly,” Gallagher grumbled as he massaged the back of his neck, but the exchange of relieved, albeit uneasy smiles settled the ripples of underlying anxiety. He was a few years younger than Micah, both of them at this point in time pushing into their late thirties, their faces prematurely aged and worn by the demands of war and the hardship of exile. Although one was fair-skinned, blond and blue-eyed, and the other darker in all features, they were, by all appearances, brothers, and the look that passed between them carried a message understood only by those who’d spent decades developing its code together.

So Gallagher gathered himself and went to the door, where he took its handle in both hands and threw his weight down onto it until it turned. Metal screeched against metal as he pushed the door out and then dragged it back along its sliding track, opening to a vast sea of dense, rolling fog that stretched on as far as the eye could see, blending into the dusty navy of a distant sky. Refracted moonlight cast a diffuse, shadowless glow across the gloom. Slipping his hand into his pocket, Gallagher stepped up to the edge and peered down into the sea’s fathomless depths.

”Is this the place?” Micah asked from the cockpit, flipping a switch and turning around again.

”There’s something under the waves, that’s for sure.”

Uncertain silence fell over the cabin for a long time.

”… Are you sure you want to do this?” It was Micah who broke it first, even though his voice barely crested above the steady hum of the engines. He draped his arm around the chair’s headrest and tried to make anything out from the rigid lines of Gallagher’s back.

”I don’t have a choice.” Emphatic. They’d had this conversation a dozen times before, and as if to make a point of that, Gallagher raised his arm out over the sea of fog, then slowly curled his fingers. Wind began to whistle through the cabin, softly at first, but mounting gradually into a gale that whipped the loose ends of Gallagher’s shirt and brushed his hair back from his face. He stared steadily out over the rippling fog, even as the swirling dust and debris forced Micah to shield his eyes behind him. Heat burgeoned after it and the temperature within the ship swelled until its insides shimmered like an oven, skipping sparks of magenta scoring black lines across the floor. Outside, the fog seemed to boil. And boil. And boil, until it spurted geysers of bubbling memoria that rocked the ship as if by a stormy sea.

Gallagher pulled his free hand from his pocket and groped blindly for the strap by the door, but his fingers slipped limply across the worn leather as he doubled over with an anguished gasp. Biting down so hard he felt he might crack his own teeth, he held his right arm steady even as flesh burned away under strips of magenta flame.

”Gallagher!” Micah shot to his feet, but the ship bucked and he fell back. Clamoring for the wheel, he hauled himself over it to hold it steady.

”Gallagher!” He called again, glancing helplessly over his shoulder. “Stop! It’s too mu— ah?!”

His eyes widened and his jaw slacked as the tops of skyscrapers, waterfalls of memoria cascading from the rooftops, emerged beyond the windshield: one - two - three dozen - an entire city in all, risen from the forgotten depths of the primordial dreamscape. They reached for the stars until they eclipsed the moon entirely and plunged the cabin into sleepy darkness. The rumbling stopped soon after, and the ship rocked gently into stillness.

Something heavy hit the floor.

”Gallagher!” Micah scrambled out of the cockpit and rushed to the back, where Gallagher sat on the ground, pallid and out of breath, arms draped loosely over his knees. Sweat plastered his hair to his face, and with sunken cheeks and the lines beneath his eyes carved out by the red-green lights of the cabin, he looked suddenly quite old. Micah knelt beside him, but Gallagher pushed him back.

”Just gimme a minute,” he huffed and leaned back on his hand. The good one. When he looked at the other, which was crisscrossed with bright red lines from wrist to elbow, he grimaced. Micah saw it then, too.

”You never said it’d be that dangerous—“

”I’m fine.”

”No, you’re not!”

”I’m still in one piece.” To prove it, Gallagher tried to shake out his arm. It burned, and despite how he tried to hide it, his lip twitched. Micah shot to his feet in a furious storm.

”You just did exactly what the old man always did!” He shook his head. “Does. Haven’t you always been the one nagging him about being reckless?”

Gallagher smiled distantly at the dead city in the sea.

”Yeah, he’s more important—“

”You’d really leave me to do all of this by myself?” Micah crossed his arms, and the smile faded from Gallagher’s face. “There are people depending on us. On both of us. We could have found another—“

”Look.” Exasperated, Gallagher heaved himself to his feet to look Micah in the eye, a match lit in a room that reeked of gasoline. A second passed. Then two. Then ten. Until he finally shrunk back and looked out the door with a sigh. Drawing the woolen collar of his coat around his neck, Micah turned away as well.

”… It’s done,” Gallagher said after a moment. He flexed and curled the fingers of his right hand. “The rest doesn’t matter.”

”You’re right,” Micah begrudgingly agreed.

The old city loomed ahead of them, silent, geometric shadows carved out of the star-streaked sky. The ship hummed. An engine turned over. Then, over the yawning emptiness came the eerie echoes of an aria. Both men looked up at the two tallest skyscrapers, each haloed by ethereal white light.

“You can hear the performances at the Grand Theater out here,” Micah noted with muted interest. Gallagher snorted disdainfully.

”Better find another place then.”

”I hope you’re joking.”

[sw33tsuccubus]

Drunken Rants

pairing: Liam Gallagher x reader

summary: You hang out with your best friend for the first time in months.

genre: angst/comfort

word count: 1.5k

F/n = Friend name. Head’s up: he’s unliked.

Every time he thought about you, a smile was brought onto his face. You always managed to do so; there with him or not. You supported him when he was weak enough to feel like he wasn’t enough. He knew he could confide in you. You were his best friend.

He sipped from his beer, taking a deep breath and looking at his surroundings. He was standing on the sidewalk, surrounded by corporate buildings. He recognized a few, knowing he wasn’t far from a friend’s house.

He took a few more sips of beer before sighing aloud. Maybe going to see them wasn’t the best idea. He frowned at the thought; what if they hadn’t forgiven him? He’d done his best to apologize. He’d done it in person, called, left voicemails, sent letters and even gifts. He was never forgiven, was he?

He groaned and looked pitifully at his beer. He chugged it.

~~~

You were watching a movie, sitting in between Liam and F/n. A bowl of popcorn was settled in your lap, cans of soda in each of your hands. Liam brought his Pepsi to his lips, sipping it just as a jumpscare popped onto the screen. His eyes flinched, though his body didn’t.

F/n chuckled, throwing an arm around tour shoulders.

“You nervous, Y/n? I’ll protect ya.”

You roll your eyes. Liam chuckles a bit on your left.

“It wasn’t even scary, shut up.”

He looked back at the screen, still grinning. His arm stayed around your shoulder. You didn’t say anything, though it slightly bugged you.

As the movie went on, F/n’s body pressed closer and closer up against yours, until you were pressed side to side. You were uncomfortable, feeling his breathing next to your ear. After around seven minutes, you couldn’t take it anymore. You excused yourself, saying you finished your drink, standing to head to the kitchen.

You leaned against the counter, half full drink in hand. You took some deep breaths, staring at the doorway between the kitchen and living room. Leaving Liam with F/n probably wasn’t a good idea.

Liam wasn’t very fond of F/n. Thought he was annoying, always following the two of you around. Unbeknownst to either you nor your best friend, F/n loathed Liam. He thought that he had a big crush on you and was trying to take you out. F/n had had a crush on you since he was assigned the seat next to you in history class. 

F/n did everything in his power to stay your friend, ultimately tagging along with you and Liam to almost everything. Liam’s brother Noel wasn’t a big fan of F/n, luckily. He refused to let the boy enter his room, so it would just be Liam and you hanging out at the Gallagher house.

Noel liked you; you kept Liam’s head in the game. You were like fresh air; if Liam was upset, you could either say something nice or even just smile at him and he’d be alright.

Sometimes Liam got into arguments with F/n, though it was natural. He’d tell the boy he was being obnoxious without hesitation, and sometimes he’d talk to you about a time you hung out without F/n just to annoy him.

Liam had recently come off tour with Oasis, and wanting to take a break, he asked to hang out with you. Unluckily for him, F/n heard he was in town and suggested you all watched a movie. Luckily for him, Liam had asked to spend the night with you, whereas F/n didn’t know and would be at home.

“Y/n? You alright back there?”

Liam’s familiar voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Yeah, sorry. Got distracted looking at the photos. I’ll be right out.”

You quickly lied, pouring your drink down the sink and throwing it into the trash bin. You would have preferred keeping it, but that would seem suspicious.

You walked back into the living room, sitting in between the two. Knowing F/n would most likely try again, you leaned against Liam and let out a quiet sigh. 

F/n glanced at you two, his face not hiding his disappointment. He must’ve done something wrong. Did he not kiss you fast enough? There was always some other time.

When the movie finally ended, Liam glanced down at you. Noticing you were awake, he cocked an eyebrow.

“You alright?”

He whispered, prompting you to glance at him. You hum slightly, quickly glancing to F/n and then back to Liam. Your best friend nods, letting out an annoyed sigh.

“You can go home, F/n. I’ll stay and help Y/n clean up.”

The boy looked at the two of you.

“You sure?”

You nodded.

“It’s fine. See you around?”

He smiled a bit before nodding. You wanted to see him again!

“Yeah, sure. Bye, Y/n. Bye Liam.”

He headed towards the front door, putting on his shoes and jumper before exiting. You walked to the door and locked it behind him, sighing with relief.

“He was being extra weird tonight. Threw an arm around me, leaned up against me. I could feel his breath on my ear.”

You shuddered, walking into the living room and grabbing the popcorn bowl. Liam gathered whatever cans were lying around, taking them into the kitchen to be thrown away.

“Really weird. I think he might like you.”

“Oh, don’t say that.”

You cringed, shaking your head at the thought. F/n wasn’t even really your friend. You couldn’t see him as anything more as a nuisance, to be honest.

“Haven’t you seen the way he looks at you?”

Liam teased, dropping the cans into the bin. You groaned.

“I hope he doesn’t think I’m leading him on by inviting him with us. Oh, this is so bad.”

Liam walked over, stopping beside you, giving you some space.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I could put him into his place.”

He put up his fists, pretending to fight someone. You grinned at him; he could be really dorky. You loved him.

The night went by pretty smoothly, until you both decided to break out the alcohol.

Drunk, he’s a different person. He could already be mean, but he was only ever jokingly mean to you. Drunk, he didn’t watch what he said. He’d throw multiple verbal knives at you.

At one point, something in your voice must have set him off. You were talking about a book you had read recently, when Liam decided he would dump on you.

“You know, you can be kind of annoying sometimes.”

You blinked at the bluntness, frowning at your best friend.

“What?”

“You need to put F/n in his place. He’s getting on my nerves.”

“It might hurt him, leaving him out of things.”

“You remind me of a bunny. Quick to defend yourself, but otherwise stupid.”

“You remind me of a bear. Big and relentless, you tear down things around you.”

Liam blinked at you. You blinked at him. 

“At least people like me and know who I am. I see how people are behind your back. Not to mention the amount of groupies I’ve got. Never forget that you’re stuck in Manchester, while everyone in the UK knows my name!”

Liam didn’t know his point for the little rant he went on, but to you, it seemed like Liam thought of you as a disposable follower. Like the moment he met someone slightly better than you, he’d stop talking to you and be their best friend instead. You let out a huff, glaring at Liam.

“Yeah? Find someone who can fit your standards then. I’m done.”

“What do you mean, you’re done?”

“I mean you constantly put me down and expect me to do your bidding. I don’t want to be a blind follower.”

What you said wasn’t true, but neither of you were in the mindspace to care. Liam’s blue eyes seemed to stare directly into your soul, accessing you. Were you serious?

“Get out of my house, William.”

He cringed, knowing this had gone too far. Ashamed of himself, he stood.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.”

You looked away from him, and he knew what you meant. You’d done it before, that time he’d killed the ladybug you were staring at. He made his way through the house, getting his shoes and sweater on. 

His aggravation had come from F/n. He was being annoying while you were throwing away your soda can, and Liam got to thinking about everything F/n had ever done. Hearing your voice drone on pushed him over the edge.

If only he’d watch over himself.

~~~

You were settled on the couch, reading one of your favorite books. The weather had been muggy lately, and you were waiting for a change. It was chilly, but not cold enough to wear your winter clothes. It was putting you off.

At the end of the chapter you were reading, you heard the doorbell. It was pressed obsessively, and you groaned.

You out your bookmark into the novel, standing up from the couch and making your way to the front door. You opened it, a slightly annoyed expression on your face, just to be replaced by a look of blown away shock.

Liam stood there, dressed in his usual pair of jeans and a baggy white sweater. His face unshaved, scruff decorating his face. His hair was in the usual short cut, though it was slightly messy. His eyes were relaxed, seeming far away. You could tell immediately he was drunk.

“What are you doing here, Liam?”

“Missed you.”

He looked at you, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. His hands grasp together before he pulls you into a signature Liam bear hug. His head tucks into your shoulder, and you sigh, hugging back.

“Missed you too.”

He backed away, smiling widely. You let him enter, locking the door behind the two of you. You entered the living room, seeing him already sitting on the couch.

He leaned his head against the back of the couch, letting out a low groan.

“We haven’t talked in forever! Has anything changed at all?”

You thought it over as you lowered yourself beside him. You couldn’t think of anything that had changed. 

“Not quite. You?”

He shook his head, reaching an arm out and pulling you against his side. He laid his head against yours and sighed.

“There’s been so much we’ve missed out on. We should go hang out.”

“I don’t think so. You’re clearly drunk.”

“Just watch over me! I’ll do my best to not be stupid. Promise.”

You eyed at the brunette. He seemed to be telling the truth, his eyes filled with a look you couldn’t quite place.

“Fine.”

~~~

Out of all the places the two of you could’ve gone, you didn’t expect him to take you to the park.

The dark made the place seem eerie, slightly scary even. Liam made his way to the monkey bars almost immediately, climbing atop of them and sitting up there.

“Don’t fall.”

You sat at the bottom of the slide, keeping your eyes on Liam. He pulled a cigarette packet from his jeans pocket, extracting one and putting the packet back. He grabbed his lighter next, lighting it and taking a puff.

He started telling you about everything that had happened; tour went fine, though Noel would occasionally be whiny. They shot a music video, and Noel wrote some songs he wants to record with the band while they’re on break. Maybe he could get a deal and write some songs in that time. He missed you.

You smiled lightly at Liam. He had two drunken sides. Rude, not filtering what he said. Then, there was just plain unfiltered Liam. He said anything that came to mind, without being mean about it.

“I wish I hadn’t said all that. Wanna swing on the swings?”

You stood, walking to the swings. He hopped down from the monkey bars, walking beside you towards them.

“I didn’t mean to say all that either.”

He smiled at you, and you smiled back.

“Can we be best friends again?”

“Yeah. That’d be great.”

He pulled you into another bear hug, grinning even wider.

“We could be more, honestly. I always thought we’d be a cool couple, Noel always told me to finally ask you out and I never did and felt so bad, but will you be my partner?”

You blinked at him. This had to be the best drunken rant you were subject to. You smiled at Liam, nodding.

“Yes.”

He squeezed you even tighter, and you gasped.

“I can’t be your partner if you kill me, Liam!”

“Sorry!”

[gallavichfanficlibrary]

✨ Hey guys! ✨

Just wanted to share some recent fics that you may have missed out on :) Just some stories we enjoyed in the last few months. 

First of all, I want to mention several new-ish authors whose works we loved. I'll link some fics but check out their other stories too!

sam_writes_fics

sending my love (from the other side) - post 10x05: ian visits mickey in prison.

hey brother - mid-11x10: mickey and lip talk post-fight.

lalazee

The Thing About Living - AU. In which Ian Gallagher donates a kidney just to get a date with Mickey Milkovich. That’s it, that’s how it goes. Everyone gets a happy ending. (Genuinely one the rawest, most beautiful stories I've read recently. Don't let the heavy theme turn you off.)

Of Going Home - Superpowers AU. A famous superhero Ian is forcibly put on leave from his job and returns to the Gallagher house, a failure all over again. Not only does he not know what Mickey does when the world goes dark, he doesn't know that Mickey is still living southside at all.

pinkpantherman

burnt by fire without trial - they get each other off on a couch. their couch. that's it

look at the situation they got me facin’ - Set in S1, Mickey's POV. PWP with bottom Ian.

roseapothecarys

quiet - 5 times Mickey lets his guard down, as observed by various third parties.

OnlyFans!Mickey series - What happens when your roommate comes home and finds you making a solo sex tape in the living room for your hordes of horny online followers?

***

And some fics separately!

One-shots:

hold steady - Those big hands hold a special place in Mickey’s heart.

to be gentle, to be soft - a series of four vignettes from their third year of marriage.

call me what you want - Post-canon. Ian's POV one night when he can't sleep in their new apartment. A great character study.

Full of it - Mickey knows he hasn't had the best track record, but is tired of the constant surprise from people when he can do normal things.

counting the heartbeats - It’s been a month and three days since their first kiss.

Hot Sugar - To settle a petty argument, Ian, Mickey, Lip and Carl end up at a shooting range and Mickey discovers he has quite a bit of a competence kink.

Drive-by BJ - The nice thing about driving a converted ambulance is all the "head" room it affords you.

Pushing Luck - All about their second kiss. Set after the robbery and before the-sleepover-we-don't-talk-about.

Thirteen Hours - Ian has known for thirteen hours that he’s not crossing the border with Mickey, so he makes the most of the time he has left with him.

all i need in this life of sin (is me and my husband) - Ian wants the two of them to have more friends. Mickey doesn’t.

27 - Ian Gallagher is another year older, Mickey knows exactly how to celebrate.

The Demon Made Me Do It - Mickey allows a demon to possess him, but the demon-Ian-has different ideas about what that means.

baby don't stop - Post-canon. Ian and Mickey settle into the ups and downs of domestic life.

How To Bag A Baddie - Wrong number AU. Ian gets a threat from an unknown number. He gets curious.

and he says, “it’s no big deal,” - Frank headbutts Ian again, and Mickey witnesses the outcome. Needless to say, he’s more than pissed.

The Taming of Mickey Milkovich - Mickey has missed Ian and is being a brat. Ian takes care of that.

Like sunrise on a summer day - Mickey is a famous painter, specialised in doing portraits and Ian is a vampire who hasn't seen his own face in over a century and would very much like to change that.

Warmth - It's a lazy winter Sunday.

WIPs:

Mickey The Unfriendly Ghost - Ian is finally in a position to move out of the Gallagher family home and into somewhere by himself. Things start to go downhill when strange things start happening in his new house.

The Exchange Student - Ian is a British exchange student in Chicago, and Mickey is his 'holiday fling', as much as they can ever have a fling, that is.

Africa - AU. When Ian lands himself an internship with famous wildlife photographer Mickey Milkovich he can't believe his luck. Spending one month traveling through South Africa with his big hero is a dream come true.

second chapters - When Mickey’s PO assigns him a job at the local library, he’s pleasantly surprised—not that he’d ever admit it. Practically lived in the prison library, and what better way to start his new life than with a career he might actually enjoy.

Finished fics with several chapters:

Designs on You - Ian has just moved out of his family home to live on his own for the first time. Working as a paramedic, he’s finally happy, stable, and moving forward with his life. But first, there’s one last remnant of his past self that he needs to let go of: his accidental porn tattoo of his late mother.

Dead Meet - Online dating AU. Ian's life is great but he feels lonely and doesn't want to be single anymore.

We do Each Other’s Laundry in our Hearts Sometimes - A very sweet hybrid AU where the Gallaghers are all bird hybrids and the Milkoviches are all wolf hybrids.

Prelude Motel - AU. When Mickey’s secret spot is infiltrated by an intriguing stranger, all the warning signs are there. Despite the voice in the back of his head telling him to disengage, he can’t help but bite off more than he can chew, running straight back to the spot and the stranger when a job leaves him injured.

***

There are many more fun stories that's been written over the past six months, take a deep dive in the ao3 ;) Plus, we're patiently awaiting the Gallavich Week 2023 to start... So, happy reading! ^^

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Good Dreams

The Motherfucking Gallaghers Masterlist

CW: Referenced past child abuse / past withholding food as an abuse tactic, child of whumper

Kieran and Jax belong to @comfy-whumpee and, as always, are used with their permission and oversight. The format of this piece is heavily inspired by Morg's Echoes, which you should go read right now. I'll wait.

-

Izzy Gallagher wakes without a gasp, or a cry. She doesn't sit straight up in bed, or flail around. Lying perfectly still on her side, her eyes simply pop open all at once.

Heart in her throat, she holds her breath and listens. 

She can still feel the cobwebs she had been pushing through, desperate to escape the canvas-covered furniture in the monster room in her mother's house. It's been ten years since her father took she and Jamie to the train station and saved them, seven years since the trial sent Savannah Marcoset to prison, life without possibility of parole, a prayer Izzy turns to when she is most frightened… but she still remembers the feel of dusty cloth beneath her fingers and the grime that would settle on her cheeks, cut through by her tears. 

Then she hears it. 

There's water running in the kitchen, a subtle sound, but Izzy follows it out of bed, padding on awkward long legs in her short pyjama bottoms and sweatshirt into the hallway, arms crossed in front of her as if trying to disappear into the dubious safety of her own body and the oversized cotton she wears.

Her mother's fingertips brush the back of her neck. Even after waking, Savvie is still reaching for her, wailing why ever did you cut off all your beautiful hair?

Izzy steps out of the dark hall and into the soft yellowed light of the kitchen, searching for her father to chase the memory of her mother away. 

Kieran, glass of water in hand, turns to look at her with crinkly wrinkles starting at the corners of his eyes and a soft smile. He wears a jumper in dark forest green over black pyjama bottoms, has some gray in his hair, and everything in him is love. "Hey, Izzy. Did I wake you?"

"No." Her voice is still husky and deep with sleep. "I woke up and then heard you."

Izzy swallows and stops in the doorway, leaning towards him but the memory of her nightmare keeps her from holding out her arms. She's fourteen, she's too old for this, but...

She had a nightmare, she is still trembling and frightened, and she wants one of her fathers to hold her. 

A much smaller Izzy Gallagher wakes with the tiniest whimper, throwing herself from her blankets and fleeing the dream on her hands and knees. She crawls across the living room. past where her father and brother lay on the makeshift bed on the floor.

Jamie, already nearly as big as his sister even though he's three years younger, curls against Jax's side, making little snuffly noises with his nose, still stuffy from a cold he's getting over. 

Izzy can be very, very quiet, when she needs to be. 

She can be as silent as a mouse, moving quick as a blink. Her daddy's sleeping face stays relaxed, and his body isn't all blocky like wood, how he is sometimes when he hears something and has to remember Mommy isn't here. 

Her dream keeps trying to grab her back, to make her think about the big long table, her itchy lace dress and too-tight shoes, plates and plates of food all around that she isn't allowed to eat. Her dream tries to make her remember her mother's hands closed tight around her arms, keeping her in Savvie's lap, suffocating her with hair while her tummy rumbles but the food is grown-up food, too good for children, and Savvie won't let her eat. 

Izzy won't think about that. 

She sees the sofa across the room and remembers there's a space between it and the wall behind it, the perfect amount of space for a little Izzy to curl up in. 

It had been a great hiding spot earlier during hide-and-seek. Jamie hadn’t found her at all and she’d had to come out when he got scared and thought she’d run off and left him alone looking for her.

Izzy would never do that, but he doesn’t know that yet. He’s too little, and it’s her job to teach him. So she had come back out and said, here I am, you were so close! You were so close to finding me! and he had laughed, relieved, his tears drying as fast as they appeared.

Izzy's daddy and her daddy's-... friend… Kieran, who her father promises is not like her mother and never will be, had looked at each other and smiled, a little. Or maybe only Kieran had. 

Izzy had been watching him. 

Kieran nods, slowly, taking her in as she watches him right back. Her sleep-rumpled short hair sticking up in spiky angles, her eyes all brown like her father's, her face all angles and lines. The girls at school are soft and pretty in ways that make Izzy's stomach twist in knots when she tries to talk to them, fingers buzzing with every brush of fingers, but her own face has never seemed soft to her. 

Izzy thinks of herself as always looking like a frightened deer or something. She feels like one now. 

"Tea?" He offers, in his gentle voice. Izzy shakes her head and hugs herself more, her lower lip trembling a little before she bites down on it to stop it, bites down with her top teeth until it hurts. 

His expression shifts, then. He understands what she isn't saying, what she can't make herself say, and he holds his arms out to her.

Izzy runs into them, bare feet slapping on kitchen tile, and he catches her. 

"Do you want to tell me about it?" He asks in a murmur against her hair. 

Izzy can be very small, when she needs to be. She curls into the tiniest ball she can manage in the space between the couch and the wall. She knows hiding, she learned how to be invisible when her mother didn’t want to see her, or when she was angry at Jax and Izzy had to disappear until her mother's rage passed like the Big Bad Wolf. Then she could come out and see Jax, her daddy blown apart like a house made of sticks.

Izzy can read the little pigs book. The other kids read faster than she does, and they read better, but she’s trying. Sometimes they laugh at her but not because of reading. Because she is Izzy Fraidy-Cat, who jumps at every loud sound or has to not cry on purpose when the teacher gets mad. 

But not the reading. No one minds she is slow at reading, and she is always trying to be better. 

She hears the door down the hall open, and freezes in place, brown eyes wide as saucers in the darkness. 

It must be Kieran, her daddy’s-... boyfriend. Not friend, not really, he is something different than that. Kieran is like kissing and holding hands more than friends, he and Jax like-like each other, but he is not another mommy.

There won't be another mommy, not ever ever again. Jax promised her with pinkie swears and crossed his heart and she is sure he means it. He wouldn’t have promised so hard if he didn’t mean it. Izzy's daddy keeps every promise, now that he is allowed to. 

Kieran isn't a new mommy, but he is a boyfriend, which is scary. But… if Kieran is what boyfriends are, then maybe those aren’t so bad.

He moves to the bathroom, and she listens intently. Her knees are almost at her chin and her hands pressed against the sides of her own neck. She doesn’t breathe except in thin quick inhales, lighter than the air she pulls into herself, exhaled all at once.

There’s a pause. Sound of water moving through pipes, running out of the sink. The bathroom door opens again, and she waits for him to go back to bed.

But he doesn’t.

Kieran walks with her back to her room, reassuring warmth beside and behind her. When Izzy climbs back into bed, he pulls the covers down and then up again to cover her. She watches his face, cataloging every bit of warmth he shows that pushes back the nightmare's final touches. 

Then he climbs into bed beside her, seated on top of the covers, ankles crossed at the end. He turns to look at her, leaning against the headboard. She shifts herself up and leans against him, tipping her head until it rests on his shoulder. 

His smile is still in his voice. "Talk to me, love."

Kieran's feet - she can see them moving - carry him to the kitchen. Her own legs are starting to hurt and she closes her eyes shut tight and tries to breathe even less, even though it makes her dizzy. Like hiding from her mother, when she had to be so, so quiet. She and her daddy played the quiet game over and over and Izzy was always the best player, a good helper, keeping hidden until he said it was safe for her and Jamie to be seen again. 

There’s a little light over the sink he turns on, dim as the nightlight Izzy has to have so she can go to sleep. Her mother’s shadow is in the dark, and the nightlights chase her away. 

She and Daddy have talked about how monsters lose their power if you turn on the light to show everyone what they really are. 

Her legs are starting to hurt, all bent like this for so long. Her toes wiggle where they stick out the bottom of her pyjama pants, trying to find a way to be comfortable without being seen.

Water runs again.

She hears her daddy moving in the little floor-bed they made of pillows and blankets. “Kieran.” His slightly rough voice isn’t a question, but it is a question, too. 

“Just a glass of water,” Kieran replies, a voice soft like the rose petals that Izzy runs her fingers over when they bloom outside her mother’s house, and there are roses here, too. No one here thinks it’s funny when she pricks her fingers on the thorns. “That’s all.”

“Okay. Wait." A pause. "Izzy."

“Izzy?” Kieran sounds puzzled, moving closer. She sees his shadow moving along the floor, where he leans over, looking at the puddle of blankets where she had been before her mother found her in dreams and made her say please and thank you but she never says it right, she never has, and she isn't allowed to eat until her mother says she's earned it.

She chokes on her mother’s hair in dreams, it goes down her throat and steals all the air for Mommy and none for anyone else. 

Kieran hums. “Oh. I just came from the bathroom…"

“Fuck,” Her daddy whispers. He's already moving, hands searching almost blindly until he finds Jamie, who makes a little whimpering sound. Her daddy's hands move over his soft straight hair, his warm face, find his back. But his eyes are still on the empty place where Izzy had been. His face doesn't show it, not right away, but Izzy knows how it sounds when he is afraid. “Shit. Where is she, where-"

“I’m here!” Izzy pushes frantically forwards, guilt driving her to wriggle like a worm to get out faster. Her pajamas catch on something at the edge of the sofa-back and she feels it tear but shoves out anyway. “I’m right here! I’m here, Daddy!”

Kieran startles, almost spilling his water, looking at her with slightly wide eyes. Then he relaxes, and smiles. "Oh, thank God. Right here in the room with us."

Izzy doesn’t answer him. He is not her daddy and it is her daddy she has frightened. It's Jax who needs her to help him. 

She crawls right back to him, sees his eyes catch hers in the dim middle-of-the-night mix of moonlight and the soft kitchen light whose shine just barely touches them all here. She sees his shoulders relax, a little, one of his hands start to uncurl fingers from palm. “Hey, kiddo,” He says, a soft exhale sound of relief. 

“I’m so sorry, Daddy.” Tears strike but she tries not to cry them outside of her, embarrassed that Kieran might see. 

Izzy is very, very good at not crying, when she has to be, so that the grown-ups won’t become angry and scream or lock her up or laugh at her. Even though Jax promises they won’t do that here. “I was having a dream, Daddy. I, I-" She swallows back all the things she wants to say. That there was so much food but she couldn't have any, that her mother held her so hard it hurt her, that she was in trouble and scared of being put in the room for time out all night again. Kieran isn't their family. She can't tell him this, can't say it in front of him. Instead, she says, "I… woke up and I wanted to hide. I am so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

Jax’s eyes flicker up to Kieran and then back to her. He knows there are things she doesn't say in front of other grownups, grownups who aren't her doctors or her grandpa or daddy. 

“Makes sense,” Is all Jax says out loud, and opens an arm for her when she makes it to him, sliding it around her shoulders and holding on tight. 

“Good thing tomorrow’s a Saturday,” Kieran offers, kind as can be, his voice gentle and soft. He has a voice like a hug, and she doesn’t like to admit it but she likes him very much. As long as he stays this way and doesn't turn mean later. Maybe he won't. Izzy has started to hope that he is always kind and they can stay friends and boyfriends and whatever forever. 

Not that she'll say it out loud. 

Izzy smiles - she isn’t very good at smiling, but sometimes like now she can’t help it. He sees her smile, and smiles right back at her until she hides her face against Jax’s side and listens to him walk back down the hall to his room, closing the door when he and his glass of water go inside. 

"I dreamed about her," Izzy murmurs, barely speaking. Kie hums, a sign that he's listening, but he doesn't ask for details, just waits. After a pause, she keeps talking. Her throat feels tight. "I dreamed I was back in the house, running and running from her, but every door I opened was the monster room… my, uh, my time-out room-"

"Mhmm." Has she told him about it before? Right now, in the fuzzy middle of the night, she can't remember. If she hasn't, he doesn't ask. 

It helps.

"I couldn't find my way out. It was all cobwebs and dust, and the cobwebs kept turning into her hair, sticking to me, and I couldn't-..." Her voice hitches, and he has an arm around her shoulder and holds her close. He smells like his cologne, and he and Jax smell like home in a deep-down way that she loves. "I couldn't get outside. And I knew… if I could just leave, she couldn't follow me out, but I couldn't escape and she kept getting closer and louder and... she was, she kept grabbing at me..." She swallows. "Then I woke up, just as she caught me."

"That does sound pretty frightening." He doesn't sound like he thinks it was a silly dream, or she is silly for being a fourteen year old still scared of the dark, who still has a little light plugged into the wall. 

"I was so scared when I woke up, but then… I heard you." 

"I'm glad I woke up thirsty, then," He teases, gentle and loving. Kieran rests his cheek on her hair. "A well-timed middle-of-the-night water break."

“I’m sorry,” Izzy whispers again. She is very good at apologizing right away. “That I scared you. I am, Daddy. I am so sorry…" 

“Nah,” Jax replies. "I get it." When he shifts to lay back down, so does she, watching his wide-awake eyes, just like hers, as he looks towards the ceiling. Jamie has never even blinked his eyes open. “Might do the same, if I could, but I can’t fit behind the couch."

He looks at her, and they have the same eyes, and his have a gleam of moonlight and humor and his love for them both. "I’d get stuck. You'd have to put butter on my head to get me out."

She giggles behind her hands at the idea of him stuck back there with his feet out and his hair all covered in butter from the dish. His smile is tired, but she loves it better than any other smile in the world. 

She isn’t very good at going back to sleep after bad dreams, but tonight she lays in her daddy's arms and her bad dream fades away. The rest of her dreams are good ones. 

"Thanks for sitting with me." Izzy's voice is blurred now, lips barely moving. "Sorry for burying you in my mom shit at three in the morning. I know you have work tomorrow."

"That's all right. Maybe I can sneak a nap, hide under my desk and put a sign up that I'm out for lunch."

Izzy smiles at the unimaginable idea of Kieran skiving off without even leaving his office, and snuggles in close. "Hey, Kie?"

She's barely still awake, and it's the only reason she has the courage to say exactly what she is thinking out loud, here, in the dimly-lit dark. 

"Hm?"

"You're a really good dad. Love you." 

"Love you, too," He murmurs back to her, and if his voice sounds a little tight and he blinks his eyes rapidly, she is too nearly back asleep to either hear or see it. 

She feels him press a kiss to the top of her head as he eases her back to lying down under the covers. She misses Jax in the doorway and the question in his eyes. She doesn't see the look they share, the way Kieran smiles and puts a finger to his lips before the two men head back to their own bedroom together. 

The rest of Izzy's dreams that night are good ones. 

@whumptober day 20: Found Family