#shameless x reader

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Lip x reader x Liam (platonic) fluff

“Y/N?”

You awake to a hand gently shaking your shoulder as you rub the sleep out of your eyes to reveal the youngest Gallagher boy standing at your side of you and Lip’s shared bed who right now has you possessively wrapped against his chest. You look at the clock; 4:05 am

“Liam?” your voice was still hoarse from fatigue, “Is everything okay?”

“Uh, yeah… it’s just..” Liam scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment. He knew he was nine years old now, much too young to ask in such childish ways, but dammit he had had a nightmare, and there was nothing he wanted more than the comfort of his big brother and his ‘might-as-well-be sister.’ If he was honest though, he was mostly in search of you. From the moment you had stepped into his life, the two of you had shared a bond- a clear understanding of one another. You gave him a soft smile, and he knew by that small gesture alone that he didn’t need to explain himself.

You slowly reached for your boyfriend’s arms that were snuggly wrapped around your waist and eased your way out of his hold.

“Mmmm, stay still.” Lip protested sleepily, his eyes still closed, though his brows furrowed with slight irritation.

You pressed a kiss against his forehead, “Liam wants to come in.” Lip opened an eye to see his baby brother and sighed patting the middle of the mattress. Liam didn’t need to be told twice as he crawled in between the two of you, curling up to your side to which your arms responded by  immediately wrapping themselves around the smaller boy.

“Yo, easy there.” Lip reached out for your pinkie finger with a larger one. His plans of cuddling may have been foiled, but at least he had something to hold onto. “I don’t need you stealing my girl.” Liam playfully rolled his eyes as he cuddled deeper against your side. 

“Don’t have to, I’m already her favorite.”

You giggle as you wrap your arms tighter around Liam as his eyes begin to droop. You snuggle deeper into your pillow, your amazing boyfriend on the other side of the bed, arm stretched out to run his  fingers through your hair and your honorary brother tucked into your side. 

“Hmmm, two Gallagher boys fighting over me? I’m flattered!” Lip reached over to pinch your cheek,

“I’ll show you who your favorite is when we get in the shower tomorrow morning.”

“Ew! I’m right here!”

oh my god yes ! anyways cw for smut & kinda switch!lip

lip gallagher is a cocky bastard, but not a picky one. any position where he can see your face contort in pleasure, beads of sweat decorating your face, and jaw go ever-so-slightly slack - because of him - would make him happy.

you could be straddled on top of him, legs on either side, holding in place, palms flat on his toned body, and he’d still take his time in admiring you in all your beauty

he’s not much of a talker - that’s the effect of growing up with 5 siblings, any of whom could walk in at any moment - so the only sounds reverberating off the two of you are the vulgar noises of skin slapping skin; and dazed moans and sighs, that gradually increase in volume, as you both get close to your breaking point

“jesus f’ck,” lip murmurs, struggling to form his words, as another moan slips out of him, “look at you— look at what y’do to me”

and when you do reach that breaking point, the piercing cry you let out is nothing short of carnal; beads of sweat are sliding down your body; and your eyes are glossy with tears as your breath tries to steady itself.

title; make it up to you (Carl Gallagher x fem!reader)

prompts; "i can’t find my shirt” — from morning after starters 

warnings; fwb arrangements, written as them in their 20s, reader has feelings/wants more than just sex, morning after, allusions to oral, minors do not interact!!! (381 words)

a/n; to say tumblr ate this the first time (so if there is another of this, then that's the original)

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not in how he talks, not in how he works, not in how he conducts himself. but with you? he handles you like you’re fine china that could break from a harsh swipe of a finger.

the level of sensitivity he feels for you- it scares him. he’s lived a life requiring self preservation, having a protective wall up at all times. one look from you, and that wall gets broken down like a hit from a sledgehammer. a defensive man left defenseless.

he fought it at first. tried ignoring you, distracting himself with anything he could find. but you entered his mind over and over again, engrained into his psyche like a parasite. he wanted to hate you for it- but who could hate you?

the first time he kissed you, he held himself back, using a level of softness previously unfathomable to him. with other girls he was typically rough, commanding. but with you? he knew he was undeserving of the saccharine taste of your mouth, and conducted himself as such.

even now, his internal conflict still arises; he’s still terrified his bitter nature will eventually drown out your sweetness, but he can’t stop himself from drowning in you, his own designer drug. with time, he’s learned that you can handle him at his roughest- but even as his course hands press into you, he praises you like you’re an angel on earth, one he’s always undeserving of. one that he is always in disbelief that somehow, he has as his own.

The door slams shut, the sound ringing loudly through the apartment and he flinches. For a moment, he's back in that wretched house, anger clouding his parents' eyes as they strike and strike.

The next moment, he sees you furiously wiping your face, tears of anger wetting your cheeks. Immediately, he jumps from the couch he's sprawled on, meeting you halfway in a bone crushing hug.

"Shh, 's okay, 'm right here my sweet one," he cooes, rubbing your back as you fist the fabric of his shirt angrily in your hands.

"She's so fucking mean," you sob bitterly, and he swears that whoever this person is, they will be laying six feet under soon enough.

You stand in the middle of the living room for a few more minutes, your sobs slowly dying down while his voice fills the silence, whispering sweet nothings and words of comfort.

Finally, you let go of him just enough to look at his face, eyes swollen and eyelashes wet from all the crying.

"I'm sorry for slamming the door," you croak, guilt evident in your wobbly lips and hoarse voice.

"Apology accepted," he whispers, pressing his lips to your forehead with a small smile.

"How about you go change, I'll make us some snacks and then you can bitch all about what's making you mad over some chick-flicks and off brand sweets?" The prospect of a good venting session in your comfy lounge wear significantly boosts your mood, your entire body just about melting against him.

You grab him by the scruff of his neck, pulling him into a quick yet intense kiss that is tinged with the taste of your salty tears, sighing dreamily against him.

"I don't know what I did to deserve you, but I'm so grateful you're mine." You declare, finally untangling yourself from his embrace to disappear into your bedroom.

He looks after you fondly, staring at the shut door for a few moments before busying himself with the snack mission, humming the entire time, his mind on track to maximize the comfort you'll be receiving.

For the rest of the night, he holds you and lets you rant all you want, matching your energy at every step and thinks to himself that this must be the life, this is what makes all the years of hardships and pain really worth it.

“Y/N…cmon. Don’t be like that!” Carl argued as you walked into his bedroom, grabbing your stuff. Even the house had seemed different. Everything had changed in so little time, it made your head spin. You were grabbing anything of yours you could find, shoving it into your bag.

I couldn’t help but be pissed. You had every right to be. “No. No. You don’t get to do this to me.” You say to him, turning back to look at him. His cornrows looked a mess, they needed to be taken out. “This whole,” You pointed at him and looked him up and down. “Act, needs to quit.”

You looked at him as if he was someone new. You didn’t like this whole drug dealer, gang member act. You just wanted that awkward, a little pervy Carl back. Not this wannabe. “Get your shit figured out.” You say, grabbing one more thing.

You turn to your door, yet was stopped as he stood in front of you. “Wait, wait,” You could hear it, the slight change in his voice. The Carl you knew. “I…I’ll stop. Around you.” He said quietly, as if afraid of anyone else hearing. “I can be who you want me to be. I can be…just don’t go.”

He begged, looking at you. His eyes seemed soft, like he was truly trying to get to you. And your heart seemed to ache seeing him all sad. You bit the inside of your cheek, thinking for a moment. “You get those cornrows out, come over.”

telling lip you’re pregnant.

to say that you were nervous would be an understatement.

you and lip had been in an on-and-off relationship for a year now, your lives always too tumultuous for either of you to settle down. but this? this was something that would bind you together for life. having missed your period and going to the store for a two dollar test, going home and taking it and looking down and seeing the white stick with the pink end having two red lines meant forever.

laying down on the couch and watching real housewives of beverly hills, you heard someone inserting a key and turning it in the lock, and you instantly knew who it was.

"hey." lip voiced, and you could picture him running his hand over his buzzed head even though your gaze was fixated on the tv. you smiled when you felt his lips graze your cheek, pressing a soft kiss there, "can't believe you're watching this crap again."

you listened to his footsteps as lip went into the kitchen, opening the fridge and grabbed one of the non-alcoholic beers he liked to drink when he had a rough day, a fizz coming out when he opened it.

making his way back to the living room, lip sat down at the foot of the worn-out sofa, taking your feet into his lap and absentmindedly rubbing them. he looked to you, his sand-colored brows furrowed as your eyes remained on the screen, "just spit it out. what's wrong?"

you finally looked at him, your eyes glassy with tears, glistening in the glow of the tv, "i'm pregnant."

"you're…" lip mumbled, "mine?"

you nodded, watching as the frown on his lips turned upside down, the man grabbing your face and grinning more widely than you'd ever seen. he brought his nose to yours, pressing a small peck onto your lips, your lips turning upwards; he wanted this. he wanted forever with you.

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it starts out when you two first get together, you grew up on the same block as one of his boys. so when carl expressed he was looking for a girlfriend he hooked you guys up. not literally of course, you kept a strict program. there was one day, you guys were around 2 weeks of being serious, he came over to your house while your parents were gone. you two sat on your bed for a bit, talking about random stuff until you started arguing. it was some silly little thing — about a movie or a game — but he got so aggressive. you instantly shut him down and let him know you did not play that.

“if you want me as your girl you gotta act like it, im not one of your little friends”. carl got kind of scared when you told it to him straight. and a little turned on to be honest. but ofcourse he listened, because he could tell you cared about him. he only calls you babe, baby, or mama (mommy if your feeling fiesty). anything else and he gets ignored for a week. no jokes. you sort of reminded him of v, and he remembered laughing at how she walked kev around but now he understands, truly. now whenever you’re hanging out, he talks to you sweetly and softly. he drops the act completely and is just his own geeky self. when he gets a phone call in the middle of a date, you hear his ‘gangsta’ and break out laughing. he pouts after, hugging up on you in the comfort of your home with his sadness.

“cmon baby, you gotta take me serious”