Three stories involving the Gallagher brothers, and you. Each brother will have their own set of chapters. Finishing Ian's story first, then going down the list.
FEMALE READER X GALLAGHER BROTHERS
RATED MATURE [ INCLUDES SMUT!]
EXPERIMENTAL ✓ Ian Ga...
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CHAPTER SEVEN HE ASKED FOR YOU
“Lip? What are you-”
Lip stares at you, sternly. He had a slight frown as he looked into your [color] eyes. He didn't break contact as he pulled out a cigarette, lighting it and taking a drag. He exhaled with a tilt of his head, “How does Ian know you?”
“What?” Your eyes widened with surprise.
He drops the cigarette, stepping on it to put it out. He narrows his eyes at you, “He asked for you. He got fuckin drunk. . . had a little breakdown again or somethin'. Wouldn't even fuckin' speak to me.”
“But he asked for you.” Lip continued, putting his hands in his pockets as he looked at you with suspicion. “Why?”
You stayed silent, not knowing exactly what to say. What could you say? You're gay brother got me pregnant? That would go all sorts of complicated, terrible ways.
He steps forward, almost threateningly. “Why would he ask for you, [Name].”
“Don't try to pull that scary shit on me.” You glared, gripping onto the door handle. You doubted Lip would get physical with a girl, and quite frankly, you were more worried about Ian than getting your ass kicked. “You can question me later.”
“But right now,” You close the front door behind you, looking up at him with a frown. “I need you to take me to Ian.”
You didn't even bother changing, too focused on your bipolar red-head and couldn't stop worrying about if he was alright. You didn't love him yet, but you certainly felt something for him. You just didn't know what. Ever since you've met him, it just felt like something changed about you - minus the baby in the oven, obviously.
Just like his car ride with Ian, it was silent. Only this time, he didn't attempt to make small talk.
You quickly got out of the car, shutting the door behind you. Before you could race up the stairs and get into the house, Lip pulled your arm back and stopped you.
You don't hesitate to glare at him, ripping your arm out of his grip, “Listen, I honestly don't give a shit about what you need right now, Lip.”
“Ian needs me, and you know it.” You snapped.
Lip parts his lips, sighing. He shakes his head, speaking softly. “Bedroom's upstairs, doors open.”
Your glare drops, and you smile almost apologetically. “Thanks.”
You rush inside, quickly running up the stairs. You walk slowly as you reach the hallway, peaking into what you assumed was Ian's room.
You could see his back as he faced towards the wall, breathing quietly. You can see his red hair, messy from being in bed. You take soft steps, sliding under the blankets with him. You wrap your arm around Ian, hugging him from behind. He smelt like alcohol and puke, but you ignored it. You couldn't tell if he was sleeping or not, but you decided to speak anyways.
“I'm here, Ian.” You told him softly, “We're here.”
Ian suddenly turned around, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his head into your chests. You rubbed his back as loud, painful sobs emitted from his mouth. You spilt a few tears yourself because of how much hurt Ian had in his cries.
He cried for hours into your chest, hugging you with all his might. Not once did you let go of him.
“I'm sor-ry,” Ian's voice cracks as he apologizes into your chests. He finally managed to stop crying.
You frowned, lightly playing with his hair. “Don't apologize for crying, Ian.”
He lifts his head, looking at you with puffy green eyes. “I'm a mess.”
“So?" You snort, tracing a finger along his jaw. You give him a gentle smile. “Everyone's a little messed up.”
“Not like me.” He frowned.
“Maybe.” You hummed, “But you're different from everyone else.”
Ian's green eyes stare at your [color] eyes intently. He goes to lean in, but you stop him by putting a finger over his mouth. You laugh at the puppy dog face he gave you.
“How about we get some sleep, and shower in the morning? We can even get breakfast.” You beamed at him, “Definitely, no kissing until you brush your teeth.”
He looks at you, offended. “What's wrong with my teeth?”
“You smell like a hobo.” You tease, brushing a strand of hair out of his face.
He drops his head back on your chest, cuddling you once more. He joked, “You're rude. No wonder we broke up.”
“Shut up!” You laugh, lightly tapping the back of his head with your palm.
For the rest of that night, you slept cuddled up with Ian. Your bodies melting into well needed sleep and comfort.
