Imagines

LOCATION: TBD, NYC

START DATE: LAST SUNDAY OF APRIL

RULES: BE NICE, KIND, AND RESPECTFUL. We do NOT share the work given in workshop, and we do NOT make fun of the work shown in workshop. It's a space for writers of all stages and abilities to learn and improve.

for the gif drabbles, my love!

"So," Rio's voice, smooth as silk, invaded your ears as he invaded your space, sliding into the now empty bar stool next to you, a drink in his hand, "he seems nice."

You paused, surprised to see him there, before you registered his words. You couldn't hep but laugh, "What are you doing here?"

He looked at you, those dark eyes staring into your soul. "What do you think?"

You took in a breath; you had thought your tryst with Rio had taken its course. You had paid your debt off by working for him, had a few long, steamy nights together, and then he disappeared--which left you disappointed, but not surprised. And so, a week after your last encounter with your former crime boss slash lover, you found yourself at a bar, drinking. Some guy had come over to you and started chatting you up; you weren't interested, but you talked with him anyway, just to waste time. But now Rio was here.

Rio was here.

"So," Rio was staring straight ahead now, "who's your friend?"

The guy had told you his name, but you hadn't registered it. You had no intention of going home with him or even really continuing the conversation. He had gone to the bathroom, and you were debating whether you wanted to stay and finish your drink or close your tab and leave before he got out.

But now Rio was here, and you weren't going anywhere.

"Some guy," you answered honestly, "How'd you know I was here?"

"Didn't," he took another sip of his drink, "I was just cruising, thinking, and I saw your car parked out front, thought I'd come in and see how you were doin'," his eyes were hard, "and I find you with... 'some guy'."

"Talking to some guy," you corrected him, "I'm not with him," you angled your body towards him, assessing him. He looked tense, his body was rigid, and his eyes were darker than usual. "How long have you been here?" How long have you been watching me?

He chuckled humorlessly, "Bout half an hour," he answered, he turned to you, "Almost as long as you've been chatting it up with Some Guy."

"And that...bothers you?" You asked, interest piqued.

He hummed, which you took as an affirmative.

"Why?"

He took another swig before looking at you, a hint of annoyance on his handsome face. But then he saw the look on your face, the open curiosity, and he knew your question was genuine. Rio placed his glass on the bar and turned towards you until your knees were touching. "Because I don't like to share," he admitted, "and I don't like to lose."

"You left," you said, trying not to make it sound like an accusation, "I thought you got tired of me."

"Nah," he shook his head, "Never. I had to fall back for a bit, had some heat on me, and I didn't want you getting into it," he smirked, "I mean, I had just gotten you out of your last situation..."

You couldn't help but laugh, "Yeah, thanks again for that."

His face grew serious again, "Anytime."

You felt your cheeks warm up, "So... You're back now."

He nodded, "I'm back now." He licked his lips. "I'm not... I don't usually have people to answer to," he admitted, "I'm my own boss now, even my son's mom don't try to check me no more, I forget sometimes... Life don't just stop cause I left," he stared into your eyes, both your drinks long forgotten, "I should have called you, told you where I was."

You bit your lip, wanting nothing more than to feel him against you now. "I should have told you that I wanted to know," you looked over at him, "Because I did. I do."

He smirked at your wording, nodding to himself. "Well, how's about you and me get outta here and discuss what we both...want," he suggested, "Or, if you want, I can leave you alone, let you do your thing with Some Guy--"

"Nah," you stood up, grinning, "I'd rather go home with you."

He grinned back, "Then let's go."

As Some Guy walked back into the bar, he saw you and a tall, slim man leave together. He watched as Rio put a hand on the small of your back, and he heard your laugh as the door closed behind you.

You had no regrets.

************************************************************************

"Yo, this is fucking crazy," Angel sighed, walking into the living room with his shirt in his hands, his hair a bit messy, and his chain dangling against his bare chest, "Why do we keep doing this, querida?"

You frowned as you zipped up your jeans, trying not to look at him too closely, knowing how powerless you were when it came to him, "Doing what?"

"This," he clarified, standing in front of you, "You get drunk and call me up in the middle of the night, I go get you, we spend all night making love--"

"--Fucking," you corrected him, face blank, "We don't make love. I'm not your girlfriend anymore."

He sighed, fingering the fabric in his hands, "You could be," he sighed again at the closed-off look on your face, "I'm for real, we could. We can," he reached out for you, but you backed away, and you could see how much that hurt him.

You could see his heart breaking.

"Baby..." He whispered, brown eyes wide. "I don't want to do this anymore."

Now it was your heart that was tearing apart. But you'd die before you showed him how you felt. You'd opened yourself up to him before, and all you got was a broken heart for it.

You wouldn't make that mistake again.

"Fine," you bent down and started tugging your shoes on, "We won't do this anymore." 'This' was the only way you could be close to Angel anymore; it wasn't ideal, but it was something. Late at night, when you were drunk and lonely and missing him, the only remedy was to bury yourself in his arms. But if he wanted to end it, then fine. You would go back to... to whatever life was without Angel.

"I don't want to be a booty call," he shook his head, "Fuck, Y/N, I'm in love with you, okay? I fucked us up before, I know, but I am in love with you," he repeated, "This shit--having you but not having you--it's killing me, alright? I want to be with you. I want to take care of you, I want to see you when you're sober, when I'm sober, in the damn daylight!" He took a step towards you, and this time, you didn't move away. Angel took a breath, and when you looked into his eyes, you didn't see anything but raw, genuine emotion in them. "I don't want to keep fucking you," he said, eyes on yours, "I want to make love to you."

You swallowed, "I can't let you hurt me again."

He put both hands on your shoulders, dropping his shirt on the ground, "I won't," he promised.

You stared into his eyes, and you felt a swirl of emotions bubble up in your chest. He was being honest, he was being open.

The ball was in your court.

**********************************************************************

When Lip got home from work, the house was a mess. Frank was knocked out in the yard, smelling like a dumpster on fire in the Chicago summer heat, Fiona was passed out on the couch, a huge bottle of vodka cradled against her chest, Mickey, sporting a black eye, was smoking in the kitchen, not saying a word. Ian was sleeping in his bed wearing sparkly gold shorts, Debbie was awake and making spreadsheets for some reason, and Carl was sleeping in a broken down van with some random hood girl in the backyard.

A regular Gallagher summer.

Lip couldn't deal with any of it, once he checked on Liam--who was thankfully just playing video games under the bed--he went to sleep. You were in bed, and Lip wrapped his arms around you and joined you in your slumber.

You were gone when he woke up.

Donning a simple black tank top, Lip got up and made his way to the busiest place in the house--the kitchen. As he turned the corner through the living room and into the kitchen, he stopped at the sound of your voice, peering into the kitchen.

"--and Ian, if you don't take your meds, you know what happens. Come on, man, you were doing so good," you said, concern clear in your voice.

Lip heard Ian sigh before giving you a reluctant, but genuine, "I know... I'm sorry."

You had your hands on your hips when you turned to Mickey, "And you."

Mickey looked away, "I ain't do nothin'..." he murmured.

"You can't keep punching pervy old men," you continued, "Look at you. At least use a bat or knife, you know better."

Lip chuckled, crossing his arms as he listened in.

"FI!" You yelled, and Lip turned to see a grumbling Fiona descending the stairs into the kitchen. You stared at her, and she glared back. Lip watched from his spot in the doorway, wondering how this would go down. "Fi," you said, your voice softer.

Lip watched, surprised, as Fiona deflated.

"Yeah," she sighed out, nodding, "yeah, I know..."

You nodded, going over and giving her a hug. "Go back to bed," you said softly, "I got the kids. You rest up, and we'll talk later."

Fiona gave you a little smile and went back upstairs to rest and sober up, and you turned to address the others, "Ian, Mickey--you're going to clean the upstairs and both bathrooms," you turned your glare on Ian when he groaned, "I'm sorry, what was that?"

"Nothing. Yes, sergeant," Ian mumbled.

"Debs, you've got the kitchen. And you're in bed by 11 tonight," you put a hand up, "I don't want to hear it, bed by 11." Debbie sighed, but nodded her agreement. You turned to Carl, who was shoveling Poptarts into his mouth like a wild bear. "And you."

"Mmf?" He looked up, cheeks full of sugary pastry, and Lip couldn't help but laugh at the look on his little brother's face.

"I was dead tired last night, but I'm wide awake now. If you ever," you took a step towards Carl, who shrunk down in his chair in response, "sneak a girl into this house again, I will cut. It. Off. Do you understand me? Do your hoe shit at school or the park, but not here."

He nodded, eyes wide.

Lip couldn't take it. He laughed, turning his body to try to mask the sound, but there was no use. You turned and saw him, and you smirked at his obvious appreciation of your way of handling things.

"And you," you said, a hand on your hip as you looked at your man.

Lip raised an eyebrow, "Me?"

"Oooh, Lip's in trouble!" Carl chanted around a mouthful of food.

"Yeah, get 'im, Y/N!" Debbie added in, happy to be out of the hot seat.

"You," you went on, walking over to Lip, "Work too hard," you pulled him closer by the front of his shirt, "and you hog the covers," you grinned, stepping up and kissing him.

Ian, Debbie, Mickey, and Carl all booed at the show of affection, while Liam cheered you on. When you pulled back, Lip was grinning back at you.

"Won't happen again, boss," he promised, kissing you again.

You smiled, rolling your eyes, "Yeah, okay," you said back, not believing him in the slightest. You turned, pointing to the others, "Hey--this ain't a free show. You've got your orders, now move it. Chop chop, Gallaghers--and Milkovich."

The offending persons grumbled as they made their way to get their chores down, except Liam, who happily bounced up the stairs for some playtime, earned by his good behavior. You turned back to Lip, and he kissed you again.

"You know," he said, mouth still on yours, "I got in so late, barely had the energy to take my shoes off. Much less shower... So... How about we have some food, let Ian and Mickey get the bathroom clean, and then," he smirked, "I'll wash your back if you wash mine."

********************************************************************

#gif drabble submission

You were asleep when EZ came back to his trailer. You heard him come in, heard the door close behind him and heard the soft thud of his feet on the floor. You were tucked in bed, exhausted after spending the better part of the day shopping for EZ's sparse trailer with Letty and Chucky (of all people).

It was a good day.

You felt the bed dip as EZ got in with you, and a moment later, he kissed the side of your face.

You smiled, "You smell like crime."

He chuckled, "Crime?" He kissed your cheek again. "Crime must smell good."

You giggled, turning over and looking up at him, "It smells like gasoline and leather and smoke."

"You know I don't smoke."

"Yeah, but Angel does. Everyone else does."

"Manny doesn't."

You laughed, your boyfriend was suspiciously fond of Manny. "I bet he doesn't get into bed with his lady smelling like outside," you countered.

EZ laughed back, getting up and shedding his kutte, "Okay, okay, I hear you loud and clear," he turned, his muscled back to you, and you watched the way his broad shoulders moved underneath his tiny little tank top. He looked around the trailer, noting the changes you made with a quiet satisfaction.

You, however, only had eyes for his body. He was built like a fucking god. "Come here."

EZ turned back to you, a wide grin on his face, "Yeah? Even though I smell?" He teased.

You held your arms out, "My sense of sight is stronger than my sense of smell."

"Eh, I dunno," he swayed as he stood over you, smiling down at you warmly, "You made a pretty compelling argument, maybe I should get outta here and shower up before--"

"Ezekiel," you interrupted, impatient, "either get your ass in this bed or give me Manny's number, dammit, cause I--"

He laughed, launching himself into bed and on top of you, wrapping you in his arms as he did. "Manny's my boy, but I'd kill him if he ever touched you."

You kissed him, and as he kissed you back, you knew that neither of you would be getting any sleep tonight.

Not that either of you minded.

********************************************************************

UPDATED: June 28th, 2022

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