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#LIP READERS
bandcampsnoop · 10 months
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6/10/23.
Not sure how I missed out on hearing Lip Readers before today. The band is made up of members from Ovens, Tony Molina and New Faultlines. They were part of the vibrant (and still vibrant) Oakland scene.
The music on "Clean Kitchens EP" is an excellent representation of the aforementioned bands.
This was released in 2020 on Los Angeles based label Refry Records. Be sure to check out Vaguess - great garage rock in the vein of Gentleman Jesse or The Black Lips.
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murdrdocs · 4 months
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coriolanus snow who pretends he hates pleasuring you. fem! reader
he pretends when he fucks you, and you're moaning all prettily and squeezing around his cock, the euphoria he feels is of pure nature only. he tells himself it's solely because he's still a young man, not long ago was he a teenage boy, and there's no greater joy to him than getting his dick wet. he wants to believe that he's just addicted to your cunt based off of primal desires, the sheer obsession of the pleasurably mind numbing feeling of driving his dick in and out in a rhythmic dance.
yet, how can he pretend he doesn't enjoy it when he's willingly pleasing you in ways that give him absolutely no physical gratification, besides the occasional desperate grind of his cock into the mattress. there is no self deception whenever he's just as obsessed, maybe even more, with getting you off on his tongue as he is with getting you off on his dick.
and at times, he begrudgingly reminds himself that he wasn't always like this. he reminds himself of his old refusals and denials. he once lacked any desire to position his face between a woman's legs, which would almost completely cover the feature he was most proud of. he believed it would be a waste, an act he would only deliver in hopes that the service would be returned upon him thereafter. after a few occurrences, he found himself caring less and less about getting his own dick sucked and more about discovering how many times he can lead you to the highest form of pleasure by work of only his mouth.
it became something he was proud of, something that boosted his ego, something he could boast about to you as he threw in his favorite term of endearment ("my girl"). and it all started when you pointed out the size of coriolanus' nose and lips, almost slyly hinting at what he could accomplish with his features.
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earthtooz · 6 months
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in which: alhaitham resorts to lying on top of you in order to get you speaking to him again.
quick alhaitham thought i needed to get off my mind, making out at the end lol, potentially ooc
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there were a lot of things you didn’t expect when entering a relationship with alhaitham. you didn't expect him to have kaveh as a roommate, you didn’t expect him to overthrow the government, and you didn’t expect him to resort to pettiness in order to end the silent treatment you were giving him.
it’s suffocating beneath him, squished into his soft mattress with his body weight, muscles wrapped around you like a python whilst one arm is extended outwards, balancing a book. you wonder if he’s actually reading it, but you can tell he’s enjoying himself regardless, evident through the way he often turns his head to place a kiss on your exposed collarbone, burying his face into your warmth from here to there. 
for the umpteenth time, you grunt, losing your mind just a little. his body warmth was getting too much, and you’ve been lying here for who knows how long, just staring at the ceiling of his bedroom.
you want to protest, berate him for flattening you before shoving him off, but that would mean surrendering, and this time, you want alhaitham to be the one to give up first. 
as if hearing your thoughts, your grey-haired lover then glances up at you, sleepy gaze filtered through messy strands of hair that have fallen in front of his eyes. you almost cave at the domesticity of it all, only just stopping yourself from brushing his bangs away. 
“still upset?” he murmurs, putting his book face-down to wrap his arms tighter around your torso. “fine. have it your way, i’m going to nap.”
“no-” he perks up at the sound of your voice, raising an eyebrow as a mask of smugness gleams over his face. you shut your mouth immediately, cursing at yourself to slip up so easily, but you really needed to stretch out your legs and the other discomforts of lying like an unmoving plank beneath alhaitham. 
“what was that?” challenges your boyfriend. you don’t answer him, merely staring him down as he sits back, grabbing your wrists. “oh come on, i know you want to say something, out with it.” 
shaking your head, he scoffs at your stubbornness as if his isn’t just as frustrating, and gently caresses your hand. his touch is tantalising, urging you to give in, and paired with that lidded look of his, it’s practically impossible not to.
not many people get to see alhaitham like this, you realise. most know him as an indifferent, closed off, and unapproachable scribe, turned grand sage, turned scribe, yet you get the honour of seeing him as this. “talk to me already,” he demands gently, not letting his grip waver even as you keep trying to pull your hands away, only slipping away so far before he’s holding you again.
there aren’t many battles you can win against him, you know that, and one of them was a battle of strength. as he holds your wrists tight to your sides, his face so close to yours, you feel his earlier playfulness melting into something sincere. 
“are you still mad?” asks alhaitham, furrowing his eyebrows slightly as a pout appears along his lips. the response you give him is a petulant turn of your head. he sighs through his nose. “i’m sorry, okay? i was out of line, i should have listened to you, alright?”
his tone is uncharacteristically kind and warm, warm enough for you to give in to his pleas.
“you mean it?” you tease, grinning widely at him. in the blink of an eye, the tension from alhaitham’s shoulder seeps away like sand, and he sighs with relief before agreeing, a solid ‘yes’ slipping through his mouth. “then i accept your apology.”
“you minx, enjoying the sight of me like this, aren't you-” he murmurs, and you swallow his brewing snide remarks with a kiss, closing the gap by firmly pressing your lips against his. alhaitham is not surprised by your sudden affection. rather, he welcomes it, melts into you wholly as a hand holds the back of your neck to keep you against him. you're warm and precious and everything he could ever desire, so he can't help but let his hands wander, searching for more.
as your mouths slot together, there’s a delicate exchange of apologies that words cannot express; ironic, since alhaitham knows of several ways to apologise in a multitude of languages. nevertheless, he thinks that this is the best method.
with the way you move in sync with him, he can tell that this is your favourite too. 
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© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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theapangea · 9 months
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Bruised
Characters: Lip Gallagher x reader, Fiona, Ian, Debbie, V
Summary/ Request: How do you think lip would react if fwb that they've known each other forever ends up coming to the house in the middle of the night in the middle of winter with sleep shorts and a tank top with socks, covered in bruises
Words: 1.5k
Warnings: Parent abuse, physically abuse
A/N: PROTECTIVE LIP AHHHHH!!!! I just love him and know he'd protect reader at ALL COST! All mistakes are mine as I am sometimes too lazy to proof read but I hope you enjoy!! Let me know what you think!! <3
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You are in a daze.
Your frail body shakes as the sudden flashbacks of yelling and pushing and crying continue to play in your head. Trying to understand, to comprehend what in the hell just happened. Thinking a million thoughts yet completely nothing at all. Your head aches, the shooting pressure builds, beating against your skull. 
The snow crunches under your steps, soaking through your socks as you stumble to keep yourself up right. The icy wind causes you to tremble more than the horrors of the night. Barely able to keep your eyes open wide enough to see where you are going. 
Having no particular destination in mind but here you are standing outside Lip Gallagher’s house, knocking on the door in the middle of the night, begging to be let in. 
Lip has been the person you’ve leaned on for almost every bullshit thing that has happened in your life, understanding each other on a deeper level. It was only recently that your relationship with Lip became sexual but your connection was much more than that. And unfortunately neither of you have the guts to make it anything more than just friends who sleep together.
Your knocking rapidly increases, quickly becoming impatient until you hear the lock on the other side click and the porch light turn on. Coming face to face with his older sister Fiona who’s look of annoyance quickly washes over with concern, brows furrowing, mouth open in shock as she stares at your fragile body, wearing only a cotton tank top, small boxer shorts and socks shielding you from the cold. Your exposed skin is covered in purple bruises, deepening in color with every second that you tremble in front of her. 
Immediately snatching one of the jackets off the hook behind her and wrapping it around your shoulders as she pulls you inside. Goosebumps lining your skin as the warm, inside air circles around you. The pain is no longer from the cold but from the aching bruises. 
And while your world has been turned upside down, a happy boy on the next street over is fighting a huge grin as he walks back home.
The extra skip in Lip’s step was from the wonderful night he just spent with Karen, mainly the sex part. Their relationship has become more positive and Lip hopes that they are finally going to make it more official, like boyfriend/ girlfriend official, no one else on the side.
But...becoming official with Karen means that he will no longer get to see you...at all. Karen is hugely jealous of your relationship with Lip. The inside jokes, the constant hanging out, the connection that she sees that you two are obviously oblivious to. And the only way that she agreed to making things official with Lip is that he will have to cut off all ties with you.
Lip is feeling torn, picking between you and Karen should be so easy for him but these past couple of months, especially when you add sex into the equation, makes him question everything. He lets out one more deep breath, the fog floating in front of him as he knows that tomorrow he will finally have to tell you that you can’t be friends anymore. Knowing that the outcome is going to be disastrous.
Skipping every other skip as he jogs up the stairs of the back porch, a curious thought enters his mind as he notices all the lights shining into the darkness of the night and the door unlocked as he jiggles the handle. Walking into the warm kitchen, unwrapping his scarf and shrugging off his jacket, dismissing the items onto the table until some unknown later time.
The commotion from the front end of the house travels around his body as he stumbles to kick off his boots, catching himself on the wall by the stairs to stop himself from falling over. Peaking around the corner, trying to understand the roaring chaos that fills that Gallagher house tonight. 
Ian comes down the stairs, his hand placed on his forehand and the other holds a phone tightly to his ear. Practically arguing with the person on the other line, speaking some details about a house over on Gilmore Street.
Gilmore Street…that’s where you live. 
Lip’s interest suddenly peaked, his face asking a plain question towards his younger brother…what the hell is going on here?
But Ian waves him off, continuing on his story on how the police need to check on the house now and how something really fucked up happened. 
Lip stands there dumbfounded, trying to figure out this super confusing situation that he just walked into. His attention floats elsewhere as the two women in the next room talking abruptly loud. If he didn't know Fiona and V personally, then he would think hat they are arguing. Walking closer to the dining room but not actually in the room itself, Lip watches their interaction. 
Their movements are elaborate and complex. Fiona runs fingers through her hair, tossing it to one side, passing the hard floor beneath her. The conversation between them is making no sense to Lip, something about having to wait until tomorrow and trying to solve some problem. 
Lip stands still, his mind trying to piece the puzzle together from the small details that he has been given. But how could he, when it feels like everyone is talking in code. Like it's some top secret event that he can't know anything about.
Feeling something graze his side, bringing him back to reality to see Debbie walk between the two women towards the living room. In her hands a mug with steam coming from it. Walking quickly to the couch where she hands the mug to a girl. Lip following Debbie's same movements to get a better look at who's in his house. Eyes wide when it see that it's you...
A confused look freezes on his face as he studies your body. Your shaky hands reach out towards the mug as the warm contains seeping through the glass cup through your body. Your eyes fixated in front of you, as if the small girl standing in front of you isn’t actually there. Your chest heaving rapidly, breathing heavily through your nose. Knees bruised, shaking together. 
It is as if the dam that keeps the water of emotions behind a strong wall suddenly shatters. The instant fire spreads through Lip’s body as he sees your weak state. The walls of decorum crumble as his hands turn into fist and his jaw locks. The blood making his face bright red, moving quickly to your side, his knees hitting into the wooden floors hard as he practically pushes Debbie out of the way so he is kneeling in front of you.
“WHAT HAPPENED?” Lip voice breaks through the chaos of the house as he holds onto your shoulders, shaking slightly but your gaze would shift to meet his, “What happened, tell me!” He whines, the pain mixed with anger driving his actions.
“Don’t yell at her dummy.” Fiona shouts as she comes over, grabbing Lip off the floor so they are face to face.
“What the fuck is going on?” The spit spewing from his mouth, his hand signaling towards you and why you are bruised and bleeding and hurt. Why you? Why you?
“We don’t know. Your little girlfriend just showed up here like 10 minutes ago.” V crosses her arms behind Fiona. 
“She’s not my girlfriend,” Lip quickly remarks, the comment would have stung you more if you can actually concentrate but tonight is not the night for you to be dwelling over how Lip Gallagher feels about you. 
Your soft voice speaks his name.
Lip coming to you again, “Hey,” Lip’s kind eyes are on you, his touch now gentle as his heart aches. 
Eyes shaking as they meet him, glossing over as a tear slips down your cheek. But you struggle to get any words out.
“Just tell me what happened?” His hand on your cheek, wiping away the tears, “Please tell me.”
Gulping hard, your trembling body making the liquid in your mug move, hesitating as you say, “My dad."
“He got out?” 
“From where?” Debbie asks.
Lip groans, hate having to explain further, “Prison. Shut up.” Debbie rolls her eyes, obviously annoyed.
“Th-this morning.” The words feel like cotton balls in your mouth.
“He did this to you?” Standing up immediately, “I’m gonna kill that motherfucker. Get the bat Ian.” He points towards his brother who instantly follows his orders.
The tears start flowing now, the snob leaking from your nose. Your body collapsing as the abuse of the night finally settles in causing you lose yourself.
“Lip.” Deb pulls Lip's attention back to you.
“She needs you right now buddy. You can beat the son-of-a-bitch up tomorrow.” Fiona patting his back before leaving the room.
And he knew Fiona was right. He didn't need to be this guy who beat the shit out of some low-life, that isn't going to make him a hero to you. Lip needs to be here for you now, comfort you, take care of you. Be the man that you need.
He realized why you came over to his house, looking for him at your darkest moment. Understanding that you and him can spend hours together without saying a word. Be closer, more intimate then sex with Karen will ever be. It was always going to be you, he was always going to pick you.
Wrapping his arms around you as you sob deeper against his chest, shushing as he rocks you, "I've got you." Kissing the top of your head. The instantly relief coating your body.
~~~
Let me know what you think!! thank you for reading. I LOVE YOU!!!
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remusluvr · 10 months
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illicit affairs | lip gallagher
summary: you and Lip are up late in the kitchen. content: female reader, insinuations of sex, unedited
"Starting to think you two are attached at the hip," Ian teases from his spot at the kitchen table.
It's late, nearly midnight, and you're not sure why you're still up. Actually, Lip's up which means you're up. Your arms are wrapped around his bicep as he makes you and himself something small to eat.
You send a glare over Ian's way and he laughs at you, "Not making fun of you, sweetheart."
It feels like he is. Lip huffs out what you think is supposed to be a laugh or maybe just acknowledgment of the conversation but he doesn't chime in. You tuck yourself further into him, laying your cheek against his arm.
"We'll go to bed in a minute," he promises, finishing up your food. He looks away from his task to press a kiss to your head, finger hooking underneath your chin to pull your gaze up to him. He smiles down at you, leaving a weak peck on your lips before his attention is away from you again.
"Thank you," you yawned. He hums in response, handing you over the snack he's made for you. Letting go of his arm, he frowns at you, wrapping his arms around your waist. His face presses into the comforting space between your neck and your shoulder. He can't help but leave a kiss there, sending goosebumps over your skin.
Ian bids his goodnights whilst mumbling something about the two of you being too lovey-dovey. You giggle when Lip spins you around, keeping you pressed between him and the counter behind you.
"You're very pretty," he mumbles, eyes trained on you. He backs away slightly, hands firmly holding your hips as he looks you up and down. Your face flushes underneath his watch and you draw your bottom lip into your mouth. "Nuh-uh, don't do that to me."
"I'm not doing anything," you whine, lips pushing out into a pout. He rolls his eyes, backing away from you with his hand thrown up by his chest. "What? No, come back."
"I don't know. If I come back, will you stop looking at me with those 'fuck-me' eyes?" he teases.
"Fine," you huff, turning your back towards him. Lip has to take a deep breath before he walks back over to you, hand moving around you to move your plate out of the way before the same hand is pressing on your lower back and bending you over the counter. "Did my 'fuck-me' eyes make you do this?"
"Shut up."
Maybe Ian was right, you two are attached at the hip.
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galaxysgal · 4 months
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𝐢 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 || 𝐥𝐢𝐩 𝐠𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐫
pairing: lip gallagher x fem!reader
summary: just lip being a cute bf + debbie and ian being little shits
warnings: lowercase on purpose. poorly written tbh. swearing but y’all know how it is. heavily unedited. gen said yolo so i’m posting
A/N: i’ve been on hiatus for god knows how long but my roommate and i started watching shameless and i can’t get this mfer out of my head. things w school and life are hard rn so i just wrote this comfy cozy little thing in my notes app. yolo asf.
wordcount: probably like 500 or less idk i wrote it in my notes app at 1am
— — — — — — — — — — —
you’re nestled in lip’s arms, high up on his rickety top bunk. somewhere between finishing your nails and kissing until you could barely breathe, you had fallen asleep right against his chest.
you stirred now, your cozy world interrupted a squeaky little voice. “are you in love with her?” debbie questions.
lip shushes his sister, “be quiet, she’s sleeping.”
you were wide awake now, but much too comfortable to move and make that little fact known. plus, you wanted to hear his answer.
“i asked you a question dummy. are you in love with her?”
lip stutters, “i-i dunno. i really like her, okay?”
you’re satisfied with that answer. “in love” was a little too much too quick. but “really like” was something that made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
“what d’ya like about her?” ian presses.
you can practically hear the gears turning in lip’s head as his siblings impatiently await a response.
“she’s- i dunno, she’s pretty?” lip replies. you hold back a scowl, annoyed at him for not having a better answer.
“yeah, great rack,” debbie comments.
“jesus, deb!” lip’s head falls back in frustration, one hand coming to cradle your head as not to wake you with the sudden motion.
“cut the shit lip,” ian interrupts. “tell us what you really think.”
you hold your breath as you wait for his response. his lips brush your hairline before he sighs. “she’s sweet, yeah? real kind.”
“a real woman of the people,” ian snorts, “princess diana type.” then “ow!” as you hear debbie shove him.
“and- and she’s real smart, too,” lip continues. “really, really fuckin’ smart. an’ she works hard. she just tires herself out sometimes.”
he strokes your hair gently, pressing a few more fleeting kisses to your forehead.
“you’re so whipped.”
you hear debbie shove her brother again, and this time ian fights back, the two making a ruckus as they push each other back and forth.
“come on guys, out. now.” lip orders his siblings around with that same stern voice you’ve heard plenty of times before.
debbie pouts. “but-“
“no buts. go on, she’s fuckin’ sleepin’ in here an’ you’re gonna wake her up. fuck off.”
“we were just-“
“fuck. off.”
“jesus,” you can practically hear ian roll his eyes. “alright, alright. we’re going.”
debbie yells for fiona as the two shuffle out of the room, not bothering to close the door behind them.
you smirk to yourself as lip groans above you, showing your cards. “you’re awake?”
you peer up at him through your lashes, a smirk planted on your lips that he’s just dying to kiss off. “can’t believe your little sister said i have a great rack,” you whisper.
lip laughs, loud and genuine. “yeah, she’s been stuffing fi’s old training bras. growin’ up an’ shit. i don’t like it.”
you’re quiet for a moment, admiring him. you know how important those kids are to him. he’d do just about anything for them, including the minor crimes you find him tangled up in on a weekly basis. he loves them like they’re his own kids, which honestly they kind of are. they may shove each other around, curse each other out, yell and scream at the top of their lungs, but at the end of the day lip has been more of a father to his siblings than frank ever was.
“you really meant all that?” you ask.
lip looks down at you, his blue eyes soft in the dim light. “yeah. yeah, i did. meant every word.”
you smile, leaning up to place a solid kiss on his lips. “for what it’s worth,” you murmur, “i really like you too.”
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immarocketman · 24 days
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I spend most every night beneath the light of a neon moon.
-Cigarettes After Sex
May I present: Javier Peña💜✨
after SOOO long I am finally back on my painting grind and OMIGOD?? I think a hiatus did me good because this only took me one day and- as you might have guessed -this ain’t the whole thing;) I’m obsessed with these colors, man😭
Like, reblog and the rest of that jazz to see the full piece!! Im hoping to have it done in a few days, and I absolutely can’t wait to show y’all!
Stay hydrated, and dream of soft summer nights in Medellín🌙
I love you all so much
@theywhowriteandknowthings @furious-rogue-stuff @for-a-longlongtime @beefrobeefcal @pedrit0-pascalit0 @pedroshotwifey @astrangebird
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lalunanymph · 6 months
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𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋'𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 — nanami kento
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feeling overwhelmed and drained by the demands of life, nanami kento finally succumbs to the pressure—seeking solace and a late-night connection through a sex hotline. however, what unfolds next is more than what he bargained for.
tw. daddy kink, voice s[e]x, voice kink, degrading language, reader is a sex worker at a hotline, nanami is a salaryman, no curses AU
masterlist
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CHAPTER 1
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“Oh, fuck, yes, yes. Right there, Daddy – oh y-yes, right there.”
“You like this, you little whore?”
You whimpered, bending down a little to inspect the nail polish drying on your toes. Stifling a yawn, you murmured into the receiver, “Yes, Daddy. Love it so much. M’your little whore.”
The man’s voice was wheezy, sounding a little too old for your liking. He probably smoked ten packets of cigs a day judging from the rasp at the end of his sentences. He cursed too much as well, and though you made it a habit to try not to picture your clients, it was hard not to when you were this bored out of your mind.
He was most likely an aging, balding man in his 40s, who was bored with the sex his steadfast but oblivious wife was giving him. Maybe she knew of his auditory… deviances, and didn’t comment on it. Some of the women were like that; as long as there was no physical connection involved, they would let these slimy excuses of fathers and husbands off the hook.
“You cumming?”
You nod before forgetting that he couldn’t see and exhaled out an exaggerated moan.
“Ohh yess,” you threw in a whimper to excite him. “Fuck, Daddy, I-I’m–”
Your perfectly practiced high-pitched moans were eliciting hoarse groans from him. You could hear the tell-tale signs of his slick wrist pumping his length and you glanced at the clock.
Maybe you still had time to order takeout before the restaurants closed. Hurrying him up, you gave little breathy whispers of, “Yes, yes, right there, oh right there. Please, please, please—” you choked out a moan and heard him spew a stream of curses.
A loud exhale signalled that he had climaxed and you breathed in a sigh of relief.
The man on the other end gave a sated chuckle. “Shit, sweetheart. You’re good. I’ll tip you.”
“Thank you, Daddy,” you purred, waiting for the beep on your phone that told you the transaction was complete. “Same time next week?”
His low chuckle made you wrinkle your nose. “Careful, babydoll. I think you might start to like me.”
“Of course,” you said in a sickly sweet voice. “You’re one of Angel Lips’s favourite.”
He exhaled and muttered, “Same time next week, Cherry,” and set the phone down.
You breathed out and threw your phone down onto your paisley sheets, your shift officially over.
A ping on your phone made you glance over at the screen. It was your boss, Liza, who texted the schedule for tomorrow’s shifts into the group chat. The other girl’s acknowledged her, but you couldn’t be half-assed. You were good at what you did, but you didn’t play pretend to suck up to her ass.
Liza mentioned you in the group and asked if you could take over another girl’s shift and you blatantly left her on read.
You turned your phone over and sat up, stretching. The oversized t-shirt that you wore rode up your thighs and you scratched your stomach.
A knock on your door made you jump and you hurried, opening it to find your roommate, Rachel, on the other end. Her peroxide blonde hair was in a high ponytail and she wore a smirk.
“Playtime’s over?”
“Fuck, yes,” you said and pushed past her. “I’m fucking starving.”
She trailed after you, snorting. “Good. I bought you some ramen, you skank.”
You threw her a mock glare that melted into a fake pout. “Aw. You do care. Even if you did call me a skank.”
Rachel rolled her eyes, flopping down onto your threadbare couch. “As long as you pay your half of the rent, I don’t care what you do, Y/N.”
You sniffed and poured the soup and noodles out into a bowl. Sitting down next to her, you flicked her legs on your side of the couch, ignoring her huff of annoyance.
“Did you hear that asshole is going to increase rent again?”
You swallow the noodles hard. “Seriously? Someone should sue him.”
Rachel gave another one of her unladylike snorts. “With what money?”
You tried not to grimace, mentally making a note to text Liza back and begrudgingly accept the extra shift.
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“I’m telling you, Nanami,” Gojo crowed, thumping his colleague’s back. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
Nanami closed his eyes, hoping that if he did, the silver-haired nuisance in front of him would dissipate into thin air. As it was, Gojo Satoru was never one for tack and pushed a card into his stiff fingers.
Despite his hesitance, the blonde flipped the card over and written in bold letters were the words: ‘Angel Lips – where we whisper your pleasure’ scrawled in a neon pink font with a lace overlay. In the corner was a phone number he could reach. He set the card down as if it was an unholy object and levelled his colleague with a glare.
“Real mature, Gojo,” he scoffed, losing appetite for the sandwich in front of him.
Not one for backing down from a challenge, Gojo tried to change his mind. “Oi, Nanami. C’mon. You’re so stressed you look older than me, for goodness sake! Don’t you want to loosen up a bit–”
“With a sex hotline?” he deadpanned.
“Eh, don’t knock it till you try it.”
Nanami scoffed and slung his suit jacket over his broad shoulder. “Is this how you spend your time? Throwing money at women who are paid to whisper nasty stuff to you?”
Undeterred, Gojo pushed the sleeves of his work shirt over his biceps, throwing his colleague a smirk. His cerulean blue eyes peered over a pair of dark sunglasses and Nanami wondered just how someone like him could be accepted into the world of stocks and bonds. Satoru would scare half of his clientele away if he wasn’t infuriatingly good at predicting market trends.
“Like I said,” Gojo repeated, winking. “Don’t knock it till you try it.”
He sauntered away, hand raised in a half-salute. Nanami resisted the urge to roll his eyes, his attention drawn to the salacious card on the cafeteria table. He was in a dilemma. If he left the card there, people would know it was from their table. The company was small and everyone had a designated table that was intrinsically theirs and this tiny one in the corner was his and Gojo’s.
Despite Satoru’s infuriating countenance, Nanami sort of liked hanging out with him for lunch, though he would rather watch paint dry and take notes on it rather than admit it to his friend.
He swiftly picked the card and pocketed it, intending to throw it into the trash once he reached the safety of his apartment.
Nanami walked back to his office, his department building located away from Satoru’s one.
Part of him wondered why someone as young and good-looking as Gojo Satoru needed to call a sex hotline to get some action. All he had to do was peer over those sunglasses and he would have any girl in his bed for the night.
“Tch. Asshole.” Nanami was affronted. 
The fact that his friend had recommended him a sex hotline to relieve his stress was beyond insulting. He always thought it was rather pathetic how men would spend thousands on a woman who would pocket it and then never see him again. It was too transactional for him; too cold.
The card burned like a teasing siren’s call in his breast pocket and he ignored the urge to tear it in half and toss it to the ground like a madman.
It was a good thing that today was Friday and he would have two days on his own. The market was in a cyclical downturn and many investors were bearish on their stocks. Nanami had spent the whole week putting out fires that were started by his incompetent subordinate. He deserved a drink and a long bath when he returned home.
The day flashed past and soon, evening drenched his office windows. Nanami stood up, stretching lightly and bundled his suit jacket in his arms.
A nervous laugh reached his ears. “N-Nanami-san. You’re heading back?” It was his subordinate, Kei, a fresh graduate who had just come in two weeks ago after a gap year in South Mexico.
He gave his colleague a mild look and nodded.
Despite the clear signs that Nanami had no interest in a conversation, Kei pushed on.
“Got a date for tonight?”
He raised a fair brow.
Why was everyone suddenly interested in his love life today?
He left the question unanswered as he packed his briefcase. “Have a good weekend, Kei.”
His subordinate shot up and bowed to him, wishing him a safe and pleasant trip back home. He tutted at the show of grand respect, muttering at him to sit back down as he took his leave.
Traffic was horrendous and there were drunk people already loitering in the streets. Nanami pulled up to his parking spot, taking a moment to let the silence of his car set in before slowly trudging back to his apartment.
The moment the heavy doors closed behind him, Nanami sagged against the wall, closing his eyes. His briefcase dropped down to the ground with a dull thud and he inhaled deeply, the exhaustion from the week catching up to him.
Still with his eyes closed, he tugged at the knot on his tie, loosening it and unbuttoning the top of his shirt. The fatigue hit him like a ton of bricks and he exhaled, begrudgingly glad that the weekend was here.
Fresh from the shower, Nanami wrapped a towel around his waist, the beads of water glistening down his back and abdomen. He picked his work shirt from the floor, turning it around and shaking it before tossing it into the hamper. He took a step forward, wincing when he felt the sharp edge of something stabbing into his foot.
Bending down, he realised what it was and scoffed. The bawdy card was between his fingers and he contemplated throwing it into the trash can by his bed, but a gut feeling stopped him. He set it down on his side table instead. Slipping into a cotton shirt and sweatpants, he sat down at the edge of his bed, wondering how best to fill this pocket of spare time.
He supposed he could read.
The pile of books that he had neglected sat on the foot of his bed and he reached for one, balancing it in his hand. Cracking open the book, he tried to read, but it was futile. The card was like a beam, drawing his attention and Namami growled, picking up the inoffensive slip of paper, about to tear it when he stopped.
The numbers teased and taunted him. When was the last time he had a conversation with a woman?
The dating game vexed him. He had gone out on a few excursions, mostly on Gojo’s encouragement, but he never seemed to find someone to click with. The women Satoru threw in his way were either too uptight or became clingy after two dates, thinking he belonged exclusively to them and demanding his full time and attention.  
Nanami supposed that he had enough self-awareness to know that he was emotionally unavailable. So, what was the harm in indulging in this frivolous impulse?
Twirling the square between his fingers, he set it down, sighing in surrender as he grabbed his phone.
Keying in the number from the card, he pressed the intimidating ‘call’ button and waited… and waited. The dial tone kept on ringing and he contemplated ending the call when it clicked and a woman’s smooth voice greeted him on the other end.
“Good evening and welcome to the Angel Lips hotline. This is Leela speaking. How may I help you?”
Nanami cleared his throat. “Uh, hello. I… I was given this card by a friend and…” he trailed off, not sure what to say. The tips of his ear felt hot.
The woman chuckled, reassuring him that this was normal and he didn’t need to be embarrassed because they were professionals and would promise discretion. “All you have to do is choose which girl you want to speak to and we’ll link you to her.”
Nanami nodded. “So—uh—which girls are available for tonight?”
“There’s Silky. She specialises in femdom. Do you know what that is, sir?”
He did know exactly what it was and winced. “Um, no, thank you. If I wanted to be degraded I would speak to my boss.”
Her tinkling laughter was comforting. She moved on to the next option. “There’s Marie. She’s more of a vanilla one. And then we have Cherry—she’s one of the best in our repertoire.”
“What is she good at?”
“Well, sir, she loves powerful men and has a huge Daddy kink.”
Nanami paused for a split second, intrigued.
“Hmm. I think… I guess Cherry sounds interesting.”
“Sure,” the smooth voice said. “I’ll link you to her. Give me a second.”
Nanami leaned back against his headboard.
There was a disengaged click and then, a different voice answered.
“Hello?”
This voice was different from the cordial one that had greeted him earlier. It was honeyed but not cloyingly sweet, with just enough of a demure purr underneath to hint at the speaker’s sensuality.
“Hey. Uh… hi.”
The voice giggled and she exhaled sweetly. “First time?”
Nanami cleared his throat. Get it together, Kento. 
“Yeah. You can tell?”
“I can always tell,” she purred.
Nanami set his book down and drew his knees to his broad chest. “Oh yeah? How?”
Her exhaled laughter didn’t need to sound that seductive. Unbidden, a flicker of heat rushed down his spine.
“Because,” she whispered, “I love teasing the new ones. You all are so fun to figure out.”
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You glanced at your phone in annoyance as a message reached you.
‘#409’ was all that was written in the text from an unknown number. The code was familiar to you; it meant that a customer was on the other end. Dialling into a clandestine hotline, you waited for the call to click and when it did, you put on your most saccharine tone.
“Hello?”
“Hey. Uh… hi.”
A gruff but deep voice filtered through the receiver and you felt goosebumps rise on your skin.
Resisting the urge to clear your throat to find your balance, you sweetened your voice.
“First time?”
It was he who cleared his throat and he uttered, “Yeah. You can tell?”
You were back on track. “I can always tell,” you teased him.
He exhaled and chuckled. “So… how do we start?”
“Eager, huh?” You didn’t know why it was so easy to poke fun at him, but it seemed like he didn’t mind one bit.
“Maybe.”
You sank back onto your bed. “Do you want to know what I’m wearing?”
There was silence at the other end before he muttered, “Sure. I guess.”
“I’m wearing nothing, actually,” you said, fingering the hem of your oversized shirt.
“Huh. Aren’t you cold?”
You furrowed your brow. Was this man serious?
Scoffing, you purred, “What are you, like my dad or something?” Knowing you had a good opening, you speared him with the follow-up: “Or do you wanna be my Daddy?”
Silence echoed from the other end. You had to check your receiver to see if the call was still operating.
There was a shaky breath and you heard him whisper, “I wanna be your Daddy.”
Fuck, yes. Finally, you were getting somewhere with him.
“Mhm,” you whined, laying down on the mattress. “Tell me what you want, Daddy.”
“I want you… to have a good time, princess.”
Licking your lips, you whispered, “How, Daddy?”
“Start by telling me the truth, princess. What are you really wearing?”
Your confusion echoed through the lack of words. He chuckled deeply.
“I heard material rustling when you laid down on your bed. There was the creak of a spring.”
You held your breath.
“So, tell me, Princess. What exactly are you wearing? Spare me no detail.”
You felt like you were threading through dangerous waters now, but didn’t pull back when the currents started to beckon. “A-an oversized t-shirt, Daddy.”
“Anything underneath?”
Not bad. He sounded like such a tease. 
“Cotton panties.”
You heard him exhale shakily. “What colour?”
“White.”
You’ve never heard him moan before, but it was beautiful.
Everything about his voice was downright salacious.
His voice was like the richest bourbon of an Old Fashioned Chocolate cocktail that you had treated yourself to one hazy night in Roppongi with Rachel and her friends. It sank deep into your chest and spread warmth down your body, right to your aching pussy.
As cliche as it was, he was different from the others.
He didn’t come off too lewdly or immediately started jackhammering his cock, urging you to whisper filthy accompaniments as he reached his high.
This man knew what he was doing.
He was good at this.
“Take off your panties.”
Heart in your throat, you did as he said, sliding your cotton panties off and throwing them to the floor.
“Did you do it?”
Your breathy whisper sounded needy even to your own ears. “Y-yes.”
“Good girl.”
At those words, your core ached almost pathetically and you whimpered.
“Daddy,” you moaned, “Wanna touch right where it hurts.”
“It hurts?” He grunted and you could hear the rustle of material at his end of the call. You closed your eyes, picturing him removing his hardened cock from the confines of his designer slacks.
He sounded powerful; someone like a CEO or a businessman. Someone who probably wore sharp suits and expensive cologne. Someone who strictly drank whiskey and had good tastes and a pretty apartment that was stylishly decorated with the latest designs.
It downright thrilled you to have an image of him like this—a powerful man trying to reduce you to your knees. 
His next words left you breathing harder, ready to combust. “Then, touch yourself, princess.”
Two fingers met your aching clit, teasing the wetness and spreading it around your folds. You were already soaked for him. Sliding one finger into your quivering pussy, you envisioned that it would be his fingers that were doing this.
He would have nice fingers, too. Trimmed and filed with soft hands.
Years of being in this business made you somewhat of an expert at uncovering how a person looked and acted based on their voice alone.
“I can hear how wet you are.”
You set your phone down, putting him on speaker. Rachel was out with her boyfriend and staying over at his place for the whole weekend. There was no one at home in the apartment tonight and you could be as loud as you want.
“I am,” you whispered. “I’m so wet, right now.”
“All for me?”
The edge of desperation in his voice made your back arch and your toes curl.
“Just for you.”
Jesus, fuck. Focus, Y/N. 
You were the one who was supposed to be pleasuring him, not the other way around.
Another voice, one that was more rebellious told you to screw it and embrace spontaneity. When was the last time a man had truly gotten you off?
That’s right. Never. Except for… No, you didn’t want to think of him. Not right now when you were being edged to the strongest orgasm of your life.
You curled your fingers deep in your pussy, hitting a spot that made you squirm. 
“Daddy,” you whined. “Talk to me. What’re you doing now?”
His breathy grunts made your insides clench in anticipation. “I’m stroking my cock, princess. I’m so hard for you right now. You’re such a dirty little girl, you know that?” Another grunt. “G-getting me all hard. Fuck, I wish you were here to suck me off. I would push my cock down your slutty little throat. You like that, yeah?”
“Mhm. I love sucking cock, Daddy.”
“I’m sure you do, Princess,” he moaned.
He sounded like an angel and it made your heart and pussy flutter.
You were rubbing your clit like a madwoman, two fingers pushing in and out of your wet heat, panting and moaning Daddy over and over again.
“I have so much precum ‘cause of you. It’s almost slipping down my wrist—hah. Fuck, Cherry. Fuck. I’m close. Tell me—ngh—what positions you like, Princess.”
Your hips stuttered and your mind was flooded with images of you bent over for him, his cock curved deep in your pussy, ramming you hard into the mattress, suffocating you with his body weight as he pinched your needy, overstimulated clit.
“I-I like it from the back, Daddy.”
He grunted and you heard his breathing hitch.
“F-fuck. I like hitting it from the back, too.”
“Would you want to fuck me like that?” you breathed. You knew your phone speaker would pick up on the longing that you were putting down just for him. “Make me your needy little s-slut?”
His breathing stuttered. “Y-yes. I want to. Shit, I really want to.”
Your hips were canting and ticking nervously to the tune of his moans and you knew you were close.
“Cum for me, Cherry. Let me hear you, princess. I’m here with you.”
His words broke something deep in you and you surged forward, a cry of pure pleasure on your lips as you furiously fucked your fingers deep inside of you, reaching that mind-numbing high.
Tears blurred your vision and you were trembling from head to toe. Your sleep shirt had ridden above your breasts, your nipples hard and aching to be touched, sucked or teased. 
You rubbed your thumbs gently over the turgid buds as you heard him reach his high, your thighs squeezing to push out a smaller orgasm from your sated body.
The both of you were panting hard and you were actually taken aback that this was the first time any customer had ever made you reach this breaking point. He heard your soft huff of laughter and you swore you felt him smile when he asked, “Was it good?”
You chuckled shakily. “Y-yeah. Damn. I think I have to pay you for your time, sir.” In a softer voice, you admitted, “I-I’ve never come for someone before. Like this, I mean.”
His smooth laugh was like music to your ears. “I’m glad I could help.”
“Sir… may I know your name? I mean, not your name name, but your alias.” You rolled over to your belly, pressing your thighs together. “I want to know what name I should scream out in case you decide to bless me with your beautiful voice again.”
There was a short silence before he muttered, “You can call me Ken.”
“Ken?”
He grunted in acknowledgment and that small sound made you smile. It seemed like he was one of those taciturn men who were lacking in genial spirits. Other women would be put off by someone as aloof as that but you were charmed.
You liked serious, no-nonsense men who could fuck you straight. He seemed like someone who would fit the bill.
“I’ll transfer you the money,” he said and your brows knitted in amusement.
He truly was a straight-laced man of his word—you were in for a treat tonight. 
Your phone pinged with the sound of a money transfer and you fought back a slow grin at the imagined numbers in your bank account. He must’ve given you a hefty tip, you were sure of that. Ken seemed like the type of guy to pay well for a service.
“Thank you, Daddy,” you purred, laying down on your back and staring up at the ceiling.
There was a slight catch in his voice when he asked, “C-can I… book you?”
“Book me?”
“For tomorrow night.”
When you took some time to answer, you heard him start to explain himself.
“I-I’ll be having drinks with someone tomorrow night. A friend. A-and he’s a handful. I need to take the edge off.”
You flattened your lips together to keep from smiling too wide. “Of course. Just leave a note with Leela and she’ll arrange the schedule for you.”
He thanked you and politely wished you goodnight.
You wished him the same and told him to have good dreams before you ended the call.
You scrolled through your bank transfers only to find a five-digit amount and your jaw fell to the floor. Picking it back up, you scrambled to see if your hunch was proven right and you were quickly stunned into an awed silence.
Glad I could help - K.
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a/n: mhm nanami's voice can bend me over and fuck me till i give him 6 babies—wh-what who said that ??
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©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or claim as your own.
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jesswriteswrongs · 7 months
Text
Black and Blue
Fandom: Shameless (US)
Characters: Lip Gallagher x Female Reader, Veronica, Fiona, Ian, Carl, Steve
Summary: reader turns up at the Gallaghers house freezing and broken
Warnings: mentions physical abuse, mentions of sexual abuse, medical talk
Inspired by Bruised by @theapangea
Minors DNI
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You ran, no idea where you were going, no time to grab a jacket, just running through the snowy night in nothing but your tank and underwear. You could barely focus, running and stumbling and running more, trying not to slip on the ice underfoot. Your feet were numb by the time you found yourself outside the Gallagher house, and the adrenaline that had got you there worn off. You gave two knocks, hoping they were loud enough, before slumping against the doorframe and willing the cold to take you over.
Inside the Gallagher house, Ian was watching a movie with Carl when there was a knock at the door.
“Hey Carl, did you hear that?” Ian asked his younger brother. Carl just shrugged.
“Hear what?” Ian frowned.
“I’m just gonna check the door, make sure nobody’s out there.” He reasoned, pausing the movie. He got up and opened the door to the empty street.
“Must’ve been the wind…” he muttered, before stepping back to close the door. Ian paled at the sight of you, covered in cuts and bruises, freezing to death in your underwear on the porch. “FIONA!” He shouted back into the house. There was a thundering on the stairs.
“What the fuck, Ian? I’m trying to…” Fiona’s voice trailed off. “Bring her inside.” Ian didn’t move. “Now, Ian!” Fiona shouted at him. The middle Gallagher bent down to pick you up, and you instinctively cowered away from him.
“Fi…” Fiona has already seen, and grabbed the thick blanket from the couch. She crouched beside you.
“Hi…” She said softly “look, I don’t know what’s happened, but what I do know is that you showed up at my house and if we don’t bring you inside you’re going to freeze to death. So, what we’re gonna do is we’re gonna wrap you in this blanket and Ian is going to bring you inside. He’s not going to touch you, just the blanket. Is that ok?” You nod slowly, barely hearing her as your brain was catching up with the events of the night. Fiona draped the blanket over you, and then there was an arm behind your back and another under your knees. Ian picked you up with ease and brought you inside the house, the warmth prickling against your skin.
“Carl, go next door and get V, tell her to bring her med kit.” Fiona barked, turning off the TV and clearing a spot on the sofa.
“Hey! I was watching that!” Carl protested.
“Bigger problems, Carl! You can watch the movie another time.” You barely registered this conversation as Ian gently put you down. Steve had appeared on the stairs to see what all the commotion was about.
“Ian, go and grab some of Lip’s clothes, sweats and a hoodie. Steve, I can see you on the stairs. Go put the kettle on the stove. Carl, V’s house, now. Everyone move!” The boys all went to do their respective jobs, Ian heading up the stairs, Carl grabbing his coat and Steve going to the kitchen. Fiona crouched down in front of you.
“It’s going to be ok, we’re gonna get you cleaned up and taken care of.” You nodded, still unable to process words to leave your mouth. Ian was the first back to the front room, clothes in hand. He put them on the arm of the couch so they were in easy reach, then went to the kitchen to “help” Steve. It was only another minute before Veronica entered the house.
“Ok, which Gallagher needs my help now, Fi?” Fiona stood up to greet her best friend.
“Not a Gallagher.” She sighed, leading V into the room. V saw you and immediately swore.
“Holy shit, Fiona! What the fuck happened here?”
“I don’t know,” Fiona said. “She’s a friend of Lip’s, showed up at the door a couple minutes ago and hasn’t said a word. She can hear and she’s reacting, fucking jumped out her skin when Ian tried to bring her inside, but I think she’s probably hypothermic.”
“Where d’she live?” Veronica asked, putting down her bag.
“117th.” Fiona supplied, running a hand through her hair.
“Fi, that’s a half hour walk from here.” V said.
“Yeah, I know.”
“In panties and a blanket?” Fiona bit her lip.
“Blanket’s ours.” Veronica swore again.
“That’s worse than I thought. I need a tub of warm water NOT HOT and some clean towels. Think you can get that for me?” Fiona nodded and went to get what was required. “Don’t you worry, Babygirl, we’re gonna get you all fixed up.” Veronica said to you. You didn’t respond.
Lip had been having a rough couple days, and had gone out for a few beers at the Alibi. He’d had a fight with his best friend about he didn’t even know what, but he knew it ended in her telling him to go fuck himself. He climbed the back stairs and opened the door into the kitchen, where he was greeted by Steve waiting for the kettle to whistle, Ian filling a plastic tub with water, and an air of intensity filling the house.
“What’s uh, what’s going on, guys?” Lip asked. Nobody responded. He moved further into the house and saw you sat on the sofa, Veronica in front of you, gently massaging your hands.
“What the fuck is she doing here?” Lip asked, his voice low.
“Lip…” Fiona warned.
“What the FUCK is she doing here?!” Lip shouted. You flinched, pulling away from Veronica and curling yourself protectively into a ball.
“Phillip Gallagher!” Lip stopped. Fiona only called him Phillip in court. It was only then that he actually looked around. You were balled up on the couch with Veronica and a medical bag in front of you, Fiona had her phone in her hand with 911 already typed in, just then Steve came in with a steaming mug of tea, Ian following behind with a tub of water. Then he looked at you properly. The skin that wasn’t bruised or bloody was pale, your lips practically blue, and you were in your underwear. As he put the pieces together he wordlessly removed his boots and jacket, no longer caring about your fight, and sat on the couch.
“Hey, Bug,” Lip said gently “let’s get you nice and warm.” He pulled you in front of him, pressing his chest to your back in order to share his body heat. He coaxed your legs out, to allow Veronica to pour warm water over them, when he noticed something.
“V, stop a second.” He said
“Lip, time is of the essence here.” She replied
“I get that but just stop and look. She’s had sex tonight.”
“Are you really thinking about your dick right now, Gallagher?” Veronica was getting annoyed.
“Veronica!” He watched as the realisation slowly dawned on her.
“Fiona!” Veronica shouted. Fiona came into the room, phone pressed against her ear
“…yeah, she just turned up at my door, not said a thing and she’s fucking black and blue, Tony.” She put the receiver to her shoulder. “What?”
“Who was it, Bug?” Lip was asking. “Your brothers? Guys from school? Guys from a club?” You shook your head no on each of those. “Your dad?” You stilled, breathing becoming shallow. “Motherfucker… I’m gonna fucking kill him!” Lip clenched his teeth. He turned to Fiona.
“Her dad.” He made a circle with his thumb and forefinger then put his other forefinger through. Fiona’s face immediately set into anger and she put the phone back to her ear.
“Tony, you gotta go now…. Assault, yeah… physical… and sexual… if you don’t, I think Lip will and he can’t go to juvie… yeah, 117th, we’ve got her, just get him.” She clicked the phone off. “Tony’s on his way to find her dad-“
“I’ll go with him.” Lip interrupted, sitting up away from you slightly.
“Lip, I’m not having you in juvie. None of my kids have gone to prison and you’re not being the first. Plus… you’re the only person she’ll willingly let touch her, she wouldn’t even let Ian and we all know he’s not exactly a threat.” Fiona sighed. “You gotta stay here.”
“No, I gotta go and kill the bastard-“ As Lip spoke he moved himself from behind you towards Fiona. There was a rush of cool air as you felt his body heat leave you, and it was all just too much. You suddenly felt everything at once, and started sobbing. The room stopped. It was the most noise you had made since you turned up.
“She needs you here, Lip.” Fiona stated. Lip nodded mutely and sat back down. He put his arms around you, his chest once again pressed to your back, his chin resting on your shoulder.
“Shhhh, it’s ok, Bug. Everything is going to be ok. I’m here, you’re safe.” He soothed. You were shivering violently as the warmth was finally penetrating your skin. “Fi, can you go grab some clothes from my room?”
“One step ahead of ya.” Fiona pointed to the clothes on the couch. Lip nodded his thanks, and held out his hand to Veronica. She handed him a damp washcloth.
“Veronica and I are gonna clean you up, if that’s ok? Then we can get you dressed and warm. You’re staying here for now, you’re not going home.” You nodded your consent and Lip slowly started rubbing the washcloth over your skin. “Can we get her in the bath?” Lip asked Veronica “Would that be better?”
“I barely got her in the house.” Ian chimed in “but you’re welcome to try and get her upstairs.”
“A bath would be better…” Veronica thought aloud “is there hot water?” She looked to Ian and he nodded. “Go run a bath, again, warm not hot.” Ian nodded and headed towards the bathroom.
“We can get her in the bath and clean this blood and… other stuff off while she warms up, see what the situation is, patch her up.” He didn’t want to think about what had happened, if he did he was going to prison, so he focused on helping you instead. After a few minutes, you had calmed to the point of sniffling and Ian came downstairs “Bath’s ready.” Lip nodded
“You ready?” He asked you. “Can you walk or shall I pick you up?” You turned towards him and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Ok, I’ll take you.” He kissed your temple softly, then slid an arm under your knees.
Lip didn’t bother undressing you, not that he could have with the blood sticking to your tank, he just lowered you into the water. He pulled his own shirt off so as not to get it wet, and grabbed the plastic cup from the windowsill. He stayed quiet as he poured cupfuls of water over your shoulders, occasionally pulling at your shirt to loosen the fabric from your skin. The once clear water was a pale pink by the time Lip put the cup down. “Can I take your shirt off?” He asked. You hesitated. “I’m just gonna clean you up, check out your injuries.” You nodded, closing your eyes. He carefully lifted your shirt, pulling the back up over your head and then down your arms. He didn’t react to the gash across your back, or boot print on your kidney, he just picked up a washcloth and ran it gently over your skin.
“Can I wash the blood out of your hair?” He asked quietly. You nodded again, allowing Lip to wet and shampoo your hair, his strong fingers gently working the blood from your scalp. He tipped your head back to rinse the suds, the bath water tingeing a deeper shade of pink. Once your hair had been rinsed Lip stood up “I’ll just be a sec, ok?” He said gently “V, can you keep an eye?” Veronica nodded and headed into the bathroom, looking at the various injuries that he littering your torso. Lip headed downstairs and found Fiona in the kitchen, nursing a coffee.
“You want one?” She asked, holding up the pot “‘s gonna be a long night.” Lip shook his head and went over to hug her tightly. “Lip, you’re too strong to be crushing me like this!” She scolded, before she felt the damp spots on her shoulder. “Oh. Oh Lip…” Fiona hugged her little brother back, trying to remember the last time Lip had cried like that. She held him tightly for a few moments, one hand on his head and the other rubbing his back, while he cried over his best friend.
After a few minutes Lip pulled away, wiping his nose. “Sorry, I just…”
“You don’t need to apologise, Lip. We all have our moments.” Fiona said gently.
“I should, um… I should get back upstairs.” Fiona nodded and shooed him away, shoving the clothes at him. When Lip got back upstairs he found Veronica putting the last few stitches in your back, and grabbed a towel.
“Come on, let’s get you out.” He said gently, lifting you out of the water and on to the towel. He wrapped you up like you were as little as Liam. “You’re starting to warm up, Bug. Your lips aren’t blue anymore…” You noticed his eyes were rimmed red. “V, can you or someone go into my room, second drawer of the dresser at the back there’s a grey shirt. Can you grab it for me?” Veronica went and retrieved the item while Lip carefully dried the water off your skin.
“What so special about this shirt?” She asked
“Softest one I own.” He said, pulling it over your head. He continued to dress you in his clothes, before taking you to his room. Fiona had already left a brush and hairdryer on the bed, figuring Lip would need them. He started brushing your hair gently, blotting the water with a towel, before he turned the dryer on to a low setting. As he dried your hair you looked at the clock on his bedside table, telling you it was gone midnight. You had no idea what time you had left your own house, and immediately felt guilty about bothering the Gallaghers with your family problems. You should have just stayed, not made a fuss, gone to bed, hidden everything under your clothes at school tomorrow and pretended you fell if anyone asked. You and Lip were fighting, you just wanted him to try harder at school, get out of the shitty neighbourhood you both called home, but it had ended in you both screaming at each other, and you telling him to go fuck himself. The hairdryer switched off and Lip followed your eyes to the clock.
“Hey, Bug, no.” He crouched down in front of you. “I don’t care that it’s late, I don’t care that we had a fight. I care that you’re ok, I care that you came to me and you trusted me. Now, Fiona will be next door, you can sleep in here and I’m gonna take the couch.”
“Stay.” It was the first thing you had said all night, coming out quiet and raspy.
“O-ok. I can stay if you’re sure that’s what you want.” You nodded. “I just gotta grab some stuff from downstairs, then I’ll be back.”
Fiona was still drinking her coffee when Lip reentered the kitchen.
“How’s she doing?” Fiona asked. Lip leaned against the counter and lit a cigarette. He took a drag before handing it to Fiona.
“Well, she spoke, which is good. I told her I was sleeping on the couch and she asked me to stay, so I guess that’s what I’m doing. V had to sew up a cut across her back, she has a fucking boot print on one side, the other isn't even skin, it’s just a bruise, her shithead dad fucking raped her and she nearly killed herself getting here, so um… I’m just hoping she’s still in the house tomorrow morning.” Fiona squeezed his shoulder then handed back the cigarette.
“Take some tea up for her, it’ll help her warm up. It’s good you’re staying with her, cuz you gotta keep an eye on hypothermic afterdrop.”
“Hypothermic what?”
“I don’t know. V said something about core temperature dropping because of cold blood? Just… make sure she stays warm and breathing and has a heartbeat, and Lip?”
“Yeah?” He looked round at his big sister.
“Don’t sleep with her.” Lip opened his mouth to argue. “I know you won’t, but I’m just… reminding you, I guess. She might tell you she wants to, but she’s really vulnerable right now. Don’t take advantage of that.”
“I won’t.” Lip said quietly. “I couldn’t do that to her…” Fiona gave him a small smile and his shoulder another squeeze.
“Get some sleep. I’ll call school in the morning, tell them you’re sick.” Lip nodded tiredly and pulled out a mug, making a fresh cup of tea for you.
“Hey, Fi?” He called as she started to leave the kitchen.
“W’sup?” Fiona turned to look at him
“Thank you. For… everything.” Fiona went back over to Lip and kissed his cheek.
“I wasn’t gonna let her freeze.” She got to the door before calling out to him “Make sure you turn the lights off.”
“Will do.” Lip finished making your tea and took it upstairs, turning off lights and appliances as he went. You were sat against the headboard and he handed you the mug.
“It’s chamomile, it’ll help, promise.” You nodded, sipping at it as Lip put on sweats and a tshirt. He got into the bed next to you, pulling the comforter over you both and stroking your hair as you finished your tea. He took the mug from you and put it aside before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You’re safe now. Night, Bug.”
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randomoutsiders · 7 months
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Here's a very dirty thought about my baby lip gallagher... So he is teaching the virgin reader how to fuck so she can do it with someone she likes.
In the end, we get two whores with high libidos who do domestic things but claim they are not dating.
sTOOPPPP i fucking love this concept so much god bless
the energy drink on the bedside table goes half unconsumed when you lean over to place the drink atop its scratched surface, retracting only to roll over onto your back. your legs are balmy with sweat, still spread to reveal the wet pussy that lip was previously savaging with two crooked fingers and a tongue that could lap at your clit for hours. you've just managed to placate their tremblings, but you're still trying to catch your breath. "well, yeah. should feel like that," he huffs, drying off his soggy digits with a spare t-shirt in the corner of his bedroom.
you push up onto your elbows, blinking dopily at him. "that.. that feeling.. there," your eyes flit down to the mound between your legs that swollen and pulsing with red-hot heat. "are you sure that's normal?"
lip shrugs, kneeling his way back onto the mattress so he can flop down beside you, supporting the back of his head with a forearm behind it. "well, i don't know if it's the same feeling for you as it is for us, but i figure it is."
he reaches across his chest to fetch the pack of cigarettes on the opposite end of the bed, offering you one despite your frequent vehemence. he's all chubbed up, cock leaking a steady flow of precum that traces the journey of the thick vein that lines the length of it. "here, c'mere, kid," he grunts, the lighter clicking. "get between my legs."
eager to please, you obey, settling yourself between his thick thighs and bracing your weight on your forearms. "grab my dick, stupid," he snorts, inhaling a lungful of smog.
you obey, grappling the girth of him with enough fervor to have him hissing with discomfort. "okay, okay, easy," he chides through a coughing plume of smoke. "gentle, alright? you don't want to rip it off, do you?"
warmth paints your cheeks like acrylic on a canvas, and you're easing your grip on him. "alright, now, spit it your hand, yeah?" he commands, and you obey.
the immediate lubrication is astounding, and you're quick to learn, pumping at his shaft with inquiring eyes up at the male to assure his pleasure. "is that good?" you whisper under your breath, and he barely catches it, for he's too focused on not spilling over your hand like a pubescent boy just learning about porno mags.
he nods, suddenly at a loss of words. "just uh..." he's forced to clear the frog in his throat. "run your thumb over the head, just there, - oh shit," his head falls back, hips bucking into the sticky palm of your hand. "ease up on the grip again, babe, you're gonna make me fucking cum."
you're pouting, legs stilling in their kicking motion against the mattress. "but isn't that what you want? i mean- isn't that what guys want? to cum?"
his lips downturn momentarily before he's straightening them out in a pursed expression. "no yeah just uh..." another inhale. "drag it about it, alright? make 'em want it. works every time, i swear."
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gxtitobxby · 7 months
Note
what do you think of lip with an innocent!reader who’s curious about cigarettes? maybe at first he’d deny her, telling her that they aren’t healthy, but eventually he’d grab her jaw and gently blow smoke into her mouth so she gets a feel for the light buzz that comes from smoking.
hope you’re comfortable with this! <3
sobsobsobsobsobsobsob :'))
"Don't even think about it."
Your half open mouth snaps closed. "I didn't even say anything!"
"Answer's still no."
"But—"
"Babe," he starts, blowing the smoke away from you before turning to look at where you sit on the other end of the couch. "This shit's bad for you, you know that."
"You're smoking them," you sulk.
He half smiles and puts the cigarette back between his lips. "Your point?"
You whine a little, scooching your way over to him to bury your face against his arm, nose practically in his armpit. "You're so mean sometimes."
"Sorry for caring about your lungs, I like your lungs."
"I love yours and you still smoke."
Lip sighs, tipping his head back and peering down at you, "stop being annoying, you're not smoking. You wouldn't even like it."
"You don't know that." You frown, lips pursed into a pout, "not even a taste?"
He sits there and assesses you for a moment, eyes unfazed lips pressed into a grim line. And then he's placing the cigarette back between his lips and taking a long drag, but before you can start whining again he grabs at your jaw, squishing your cheeks, and brings you closer until your noses touch. "Just breath it in."
It's hard not to kiss him and forget all about smoking—part of you think that's part of his plan—but you do your best to stay still and do exactly as he instructed.
It doesn't last though, because it doesn't take long before you're coughing right in his face.
Your nose burns, and your eyes are watering, and Lip is pushing your head away, whole palm covering your face, with a smug smile. "You like that?"
"No," you wheeze, pouty with disappointed. You rub your nose sadly, "that hurt."
"Hmm, if only someone had warned you you wouldn't like it," he stubs the cigarette in a cup. "Oh wait."
"Shut up," you hide back in his armpit and sulk even harder than before, "don't be mean while I'm incapacitated."
Lip laughs at you, rudely, but still wraps an arm around you to rub your back and grabs a glass of water from the side table next to him, holding it in front of your face. "Have some water, it'll go away soon."
Somehow you manage to still pout even as you're gulping the liquid down. "Will you listen to me next time?"
"Lip!" you groan, letting him take the empty glass before slumping down against him again.
He hums, pressing a soothing kiss to the top of your head, hand patting at your hip condescendingly. "My little baby."
"Lip!"
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evilwednesday · 5 months
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𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 ──── wednesday addams & fem!reader
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── tags. soft wednesday, implied sex at the very end, no pronous used, but the word 'girlfriend' is used once. wednesday and reader are both adults.
── word count. 1.521
a/n. i'm late for wdw, i know, but i could not let y'all and @wesstars down... better late than never, right? i hope you like it and im sorry for any mistakes.
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When you moved to the small town of Jericho and started working at the only coffee shop around, you didn’t expect to get anyone’s attentions, especially from the local “freaky”. Wednesday Addams was full of surprises and secrets and, apparently, everyone here knew a bit about her.
Gossips followed you around like fog in the morning after a raining night, the eccentric Addams always being the subject that echoed inside the brownish walls of the cafe.
“I’ve heard she eats raw meat,” a high school student dressed in black and blue uniform said to her friend, no caring enough to at least whisper.
The other just nodded, not paying attentions to her surrenders, not even when the little bell above the entrance door jingled.
“My father told me her dad killed someone in Nevermore when he was a student… imagine being the daughter of killer.”
“Imagine being the daughter of a former police officer who was expelled from the police force for not being able to solve a simple case that happened more than 20 years ago.” The tranquil voice caught your attention, causing you to turn on your heels behind the counter.
Wednesday was standing next to the table where the two students sat, arms crossed and a deadly shine in her eyes. You smiled.
“Miss Addams, please stop terrorizing the small girls, they know nothing about life,” you spoke once you saw the reddish color in the girls’ cheeks.
“They better learn fast; life is not gentle.” She turned her head to you. “And neither am I.”
“Oh, should I fear for my life?”
You tilted your head, trying to get Wednesday’s attention in order for the girls to go back to the other students of Nevermore. The raven girl redirected her body towards you, taking steps until she was standing in front of the cashier.
“You most definitely should.”
Head motioning for the girls to leave, you placed both of your hands on the icy, black marble that covered the top of the counter.
“If I die, who’s going to make you your favorite cherry muffin?”
“Before I met you, I survived just fine without the sweetness of it in my daily life, I’m positive I can do it again once you’re gone.” She lifted her chin. “Now stop staling and bring me a double expresso, no sugar and a cherry muffin before I start terrorizing you instead.”
You chuckled, rolling your eyes as she turned to sit on the costumery table.
Putting the cherry muffin in a plate, you turned to the Italian coffee machine with an empty white mug in hand and freshly brewed coffee in the other.
As the bitter liquid slowly filled the porcelain, flashes of the first time you were face to face with Wednesday took over your memory. She was so small in her black and white Nevermore uniform, looking like an old school cartoon, disappearing behind the other students as she patiently and quietly waited in line to order. She stared at you, taking two steps ahead when the last person in front of her moved away with their order in hands, taking a seat with the others, black eyes that didn’t blink and looked dead, the pale white skin didn’t help either. Not a single mark on it, you noticed, except for the adorable freckles that spread over her small nose bridge and covered the area around her cheek bones.
She was polite and calm, unlike the others, speaking in a monotone voice that actually surprised you.
Wednesday ordered a small size expresso with no sugar. You offered her a muffin, freshly out of the oven and still warm. She was reluctant in saying ‘yes’ at first, but something in you convinced her.
Once the mug was filled, you placed it side by side with the muffin, smiling and murmuring a small ‘I hope you like it’, to which she replied with: “Thank you,” extending her hands to take the plate and mug of the counter.
She looked at the red-blood muffin before looking at you, giving you a small nod of her head before walking to an empty table.
You watched as she sat herself down and stared at the small cake in front of her, you licked your lips, curious to know if she would like it or not; it was your favorite, after all.
Wednesday tilted her head to the side, analyzing the sweet in front of her, internally admiring the color of it and how the powdered sugar on top of it reminded her of snow covered in blood.
Taking the wrap of it, she hesitantly took a bite of it, slowly chewing it. You bet your lips, anxiously standing behind the counter. She then took another bite, and another one, and another one, rapidly finishing the muffin.
You smiled to yourself, finally changing the focus of your attention.
Now, almost 7 years of the first interaction, you still secretly admired Wednesday as you waited for the coffee to fill the small sized mug. But now was different, she started drinking a double expresso to maintain her brain awake and cherry muffins became a part of her daily life.
But only if it was made by your hands.
Once the porcelain turned bitter black, you left your place from behind the corner and sat them down in front of the goth, taking the empty seat in front of her.
“Thank you,” Wednesday said simple, eyes focused on the yellowish pages that had all her attention.
“A new case?” You asked curious, taking a look around the nearly empty coffee shop.
“A runner found two dead bodies at the woods on Saturday, the captain assumed I’d be interest and gave me the case this morning.”
You pursed your lips, a tight knot in your stomach as your eyes analyzed the super graphic images that decorated the table. Pushing the images away from your point of view, you wondered how Wednesday could eat the red-blooded muffin while looking at actual blood.
As if she could read your mind, black painted nails reached for the small cake, her eyebrows sewing together once she saw what you did, “Care to explain what this is?”
You pursed your lips, containing a smile. On top of the sweet, a white skeleton’s head was drawn, black, deep-hollowed eyes filled with dark chocolate chips with a sewed-like smile under and dark red blood dripping from its eyes.
“I made it for you, Halloween is near and I figured you’d like it.”
“I can see that. What I want you to explain is why there’s blood coming from its eyes. Bones can’t bleed, there’s no tissue that can carry blood vessels or veins, it’s just bones.”
You rolled your eyes, “It’s a cupcake, Wens. Just eat it.”
“Fine.”
When she took the first bite, dark red filling dripped onto her hands. It was a mix between the sweetness of sugar and the sourness of cherry combined together that only you could do it perfectly.
“So… did you like it?”
Wednesday chewed and swallowed everything, licking her lips to capture the remained syrup, missing a small drop on the corner of her mouth. The tip of her fingers covered in the cherry liquid.
“It’s too sweet, next time don’t add any sugar to it. It’s not healthy. And it’s also too sticky and messy. I need a napkin.”
Reaching out for her hand, you sucked the tip of her fingers, closing your eyes at the sweetness that filled your mouth.
“You don’t need a napkin, you have a girlfriend to clean it for you.”
Wednesday widened her eyes at your action, looking around to make sure nobody saw that. The coffee shop was empty as it was almost noon and everyone was either at work or at school, only the two of you occupying a space inside.
“That was unnecessary.” She said with an affected tone.
“It was very necessary, I needed to see if it was too sweet.” You stood up, taking the empty plate in hands. Before returning to the kitchen, you leaned into her personal space, noses touching and the smell of her perfume filling your senses, that small drop being the only thing you saw in front of you. “You have some here too.”
The moment the tip of your tongue licked the red syrup, so close to her lips, Wednesday grabbed the mug near her hands, squeezing it hard enough to break if it was made of fragile material.
Before standing up properly, you pressed a chaste kiss to her lips, tasting the sourness in it.
“I’ll make sure the next ones aren’t too sweet for you, cara mia.” You winked, rapidly walking back to the counter to start preparing the muffins for the afternoon clients. And for your bitter girlfriend that cursed you under her breath for fogging up her brain with your tongue, taking away all the concentration she needed to solve this murder case. One that would need to wait after she locked the door, turned the open sign to ‘closed’, and dragged you by the hand to the supply closet.
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littlemsdelulu · 1 month
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what did doja cat say about big noses again ???
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voidpetrova · 7 months
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starving — lip gallagher x reader
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☄. *. ⋆
content warnings and genre: swearing, cunnilingus, face-sitting, nose-sitting, dirty talk, spanking — smut
˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
synopsis: he's got the biggest, most appealing nose you've ever seen. all you wanna do it feel it inside you.
✧.*
lip gallagher loved eating you out—more than anything. he loved the sight of your pretty, sopping pussy catching the light in the rays of light that peaked through his bedroom curtains. he loved inhaling your sweet, intoxicating scent of arousal. he loved the glacé, delicious taste of your juices that flooded his tongue. most of all, he way your body trembled beneath his touch—how your thighs shook as he groped your ass, spreading your cunt apart to devour you the right way. or when he'd crawl in between your legs, legs shakily wrapped around his neck while you tugged at his locks. it was insatiable—he couldn't get enough of you.
on this particular day, you had chosen to do something different, something more vulnerable and compromising. he knew you loved his nose—the shape, the sheer volume and size—so when he called you into his room, you didn't know what to expect.
“i wanna try something with you,” you raised an eyebrow at his statement, curiosity awakening. “you've always had a thing for my nose, am i right?”
your cheeks flushed at the brutally honest question. of course, there wasn't a single gram of dishonesty in his inquiry—the both of you knew all too well what the answer was. you shrugged, almost casually. “i mean, yeah. you've got a pretty nose, lip.” he smirked at the answer, as if he was pleased with it.
“how would you feel about sitting on it?”
there was no rational way for you to react. the question made you shiver, his words shooting straight to your core. you scoffed, breaking into a nervous laugh. “that's ridiculous, lip.” he gave you a look, as if he was telling you he wasn't buying your act.
“is that how we're gonna play?” he fixed his posture, leaning forward as he straightened his back, sitting on the bed, just a few feet away from you. “gonna act like you don't want it as much as i do?” he could see right through your act, a malevolent smirk playing on his face. he analyzed the way your walls crumbled, the way you squeezed your thighs for an ounce of friction. he leaned back, propping his elbows against the back of his neck, using two fingers to motion you over.
while hesitant, you knew you couldn't resist him. his smile only widened when you crawled over to him, straddling his hips before pressing your lips to his. the world seemed to fade away as your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you even tighter against him. the softness of his lips against yours sent shivers down your spine, and you felt the heat between you intensify with each fleeting moment. as the kiss deepened, the world around you ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you lost in the enchantment of the moment.
“panties, babygirl,” he muttered under his breath. he licked a long stripe along your neck with his tongue. you let out a soft gasp as you obliged, hastily pulling down your shorts and panties, leaving your cunt bare as the cool air sent tingles down your spine. “just like that, keep going.” you followed his directions, tossing your panties aside.
you melted into his touch, bare cunt grinding against his clothed boner. he let out a soft grunt, hands gripping your ass, pulling your cheeks apart as he pressed you further into his boner. with a free hand, he tugged his shorts off, proceeding in nothing but his boxers.
“c'mere, baby,” he cooed, motioning you to position yourself above his face. you grew more shy by the second, but you listened to him, holding onto the headboard in order to hover above his face. “look at my girl, dripping all over my face already.” you whined, knowing there was some truth to his statement—you were wet and it was an understatement, slick dripping down your thighs, drops forming and threatening to spill onto his face.
lip was a dedicated boyfriend, and he knew just how to please you. that was precisely why he wasted no time, hands wrapped around the back of your thighs to slam you onto his face, your arousal practically drenching him. you moaned out his name, a string of curses passing your swollen lips as he went to work, tongue pushing past your cunt. he lapped at your juices, tongue wrapping around your clit as he gave it a few aggressive sucks. his tongue was way past your entrance, lapping at your tight walls, sucking at your sensitive bundle of nerves. “lip, fuck—too fucking much,” your moans only encouraged him, your eyes locking as he swirled his tongue around. that wasn't the end, though. it was only the beginning.
when he grabbed onto your hips to lift you up, you were taken aback, but the shock didn't last long. he slammed you right onto his nose, hips holding you in place as he began to bounce you—up and down, up and down. your cries of ecstasy were like music to his ears, his nose acting as your own personal sex toy. it didn't go deep, but it pushed well past your entrance, the width caressing your inner walls. he brought you back up, nose pressing harshly into your clit as he inhaled your sweet slick, right before he began to bounce you once more.
“you like it, don't you? using my nose to get yourself off?” his words were hard to make out, but you understood him. at a certain point, you didn't need him doing all the work anymore—you found yourself bouncing willingly, your orgasm creeping up on you as he groped your ass, leaving definite bruises. “so good lip, 'm so close,” you cried out, your bounces growing quicker and more aggressive as you found yourself grinding onto his nose, loving the way it made you feel.
when he stuck his tongue out, the pleasure only doubled. the strong, wet muscle gave him leverage as much as it gave you pleasure—you swore you could see stars. you pushed harder against his face, his tongue caressing your outer bits while his nose did all the inside work. when you came, you did it was a sob, fingers grabbing onto his hair for dear life, pushing him even deeper into your wet cunt. he groaned from beneath you, lapping up all the wetness you had to offer him as you rode out your orgasm.
you were a fool for thinking this would be the last time.
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theapangea · 10 months
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I actually posted about this but I thought a fun dynamic to play with for lip and his girlfriend would be lip and a non drinker. Shes like the designated driver caregiver and the gallaghers love her because after parties they all magically wake up in their beds and lip just really values her more than life, like hes so in love its insane
A million times yes to this!! I love the idea of soft!Lip. Hope you love it!!
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Soft 4 You
Lip Gallagher x reader
A/N: This is told from Lip's perspective which I think just lets us get into his head and how he feels about you. If you see any mistakes, no you didn't.
~~~
Summer in the Southside means two things - sweating your ass off during the day and partying until you black out at night. For Lip, the getting drunk off of your ass was all part of the fun, especially when he knew you were around to make sure he got home safely. 
The events of last night quickly fade away as the sunshine peeks through the makeshift curtain pinned to the wall. The whipping sound from the fan turns into a high pitch ring causing Lip to groan. His heartbeat pounding right behind his eyes as the beginning of a headache settles in. 
The feeling of his brain wanting to burst out of his skull makes him grab his pillow, placing it over his face, half covering himself from the sun and the other half suggesting that maybe death is a better way to deal with this hangover. His arm stretches out to feel around the bed, but it's empty, the presence of you long gone on this painful morning, if you could still call it morning. 
Pushing on the pillow more, the pressure lightly helping with the deadly headache. Squeezing his eyes tighter as the image of you begins to form inside his eyelids. Your smile, your voice, your laughter dancing around Lip’s head, the only solace from the raging migraine.
He wants to live inside his mind forever. The memories playfully swirl through his head as a warm, fuzzy feeling brews inside his chest. His heart beats faster just by thinking of you, the way you brighten a room, how you carry yourself, selflessly putting others before you. Caring for his siblings as if they are your own, stepping up to take the responsibility of the household on your shoulders. 
Since Lip met you, he has promised himself that he will become a better man for you. Become the partner that you deserve, striving everyday to do so. Lip wants you to have the world, hoping one day he can be the one to give it to you. 
Lip is so helplessly in love with you that he definitely doesn’t mind the fall.
The cotton mouth is too much to handle as he just lays there in his own sweat. He thinks if he waits here long enough that at some point you will show up, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead, fingers rubbing over his chest, your sweet scent engulfing his nose. But sadly he can’t wait that long.
Groaning as he lifts himself onto his elbows, blinking a couple of times as his surroundings become clear, the headache throbbing more with every move. His eyes trailing along the room before seeing the tall glass of water that sits on the dresser. Smacking his lips a couple of times as he wants nothing more than to drink something. 
Pushing himself up, a small puddle of sweat lay underneath as he scoots to the edge, the bedsheet sticking to his legs as he fumbles to stand up. Using the dresser as leverage so he doesn’t fall.
The faint hint of a smile appears as he comes face to face with the water and next to it, two Advil and a little note that says ‘take these’ signed with a heart in the corner and your initial. His heart skips a beat as his fingers trace over your delicate handwriting. Barely being able to think straight because of the hangover and now you got his mind racing a million miles an hour with your love. 
Quickly raking a hand through his hair before swallowing the pills and chugging the water. Closing his eyes to allow the medicine to relieve some of his pain, knowing it will take longer than a couple of seconds. 
Tripping over himself as he pulls on a pair of jeans. Leaving his room to wobble down the hallway and descend down the stairs to the kitchen. The sound of chatter and laughter fill Lip’s head, wishing the happy sounds weren’t causing his head to pound more. Finally stopping on the bottom step as he observes the scene in front of him. 
Deb’s and Carl’s laughter fill the small room as you are telling a funny story. Your voice erupts louder as the punchline comes, sending them into fits of laughter. Their faces tell how much they enjoy having you around, the way you bring a sort of calmness to the house. Turning it into a home.
The kitchen is a bit of a mess as the grand breakfast you made - pancakes, eggs, bacon - sits on top of the stove. The dining table is messy as Lip can tell you just finished eating. Taking your time with his siblings to bond with them and get to know them on a deeper level. 
He couldn’t love you any more than in this exact moment. Without you knowing he was around. 
Lip gets pulled from his thoughts when Ian comes racing down the stairs behind him, patting Lip on the shoulder while he passes by. Prompting you to turn towards them both, a huge smile forming on your face, the kind where your eyes grow smaller and your cheeks grow bigger.
And God did that damn smile light a fire inside of him that he will let burn forever.
~~~
what did you think ??? thank you for reading !
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bloatedandalone04 · 8 months
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It Comes Back
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➪the one where you and lip are broken up (but not for long).
Warnings: swearing, shameless themes, mentions of alcohol, drinking, fake ass friends, angst, fluff, kissing (oh no), drunk reader, pet names.
Word Count: 3.4k
Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡
The pounding on the door never went away, despite Lip ignoring it for about five minutes now. If he didn’t do something about it soon, everyone in the house would wake up and he’d have a bigger problem to deal with. 
He sits up from his lying position and stands up from the couch, making his way towards the front door with an irritated look on his face. Swinging the door open, he was met with the annoyed faces of your friends, Daneel and Marissa. “Fucking finally,” Marissa muttered and it was then when Lip noticed your slouched form. Your arms were draped over your friends’ shoulders as you struggled to stand up properly. “Ever heard of opening a door?”
“I just did,” he replied and narrowed his eyes at the way they were both doing a piss poor job at keeping you upright. “What’s wrong with her?” He tried to hide his concern, but there was no denying that he was more than a bit worried at the state you were currently in.
“She can’t handle alcohol to save her life,” Daneel grunted as she pushed your arm off her. “That’s what’s wrong with her.”
Lip glared at her as he instinctively reached out to grab your wrist before you were sent stumbling back. “How much has she had to drink?” 
“Not a fucking clue,” Marissa laughed as she pushed you into the arms of your ex-boyfriend. “I lost count after her third beer.”
“Fuck,” he muttered as he held your nearly limp body against his chest with one hand. The other one reached up to brush away the messy strands of hair from your face, and his gaze softened at the sad expression you wore as you refused to meet his eyes. He looked back over at your friends and furrowed his brows when he saw that they were halfway down the stairs. “Hey, where the hell are you two going?”
“Back to the bar,” Daneel called back. “We just wanted to make sure Boozie over here got home safely.”
“Yeah, but this isn’t her house,” he pointed out, but his words didn’t seem to affect the two girls. 
“Right, you guys broke up, didn’t you?” Marissa laughed quietly and gave Daneel a shrug. “Maybe that’s why she was so depressed tonight.”
They both laughed at that before waving at Lip and walking down the street. 
“Fuck’s sake,” he muttered as he wrapped your arm around his shoulder and guided you inside. He sat you down on the couch where he previously was, before heading back towards the door and peeking out at the retreating forms of your friends. He scoffed and flipped them off before shutting the door loudly. He usually didn’t bother with locking it when it was just him and his family there, but since you were only a few feet away from him and drunk, he found himself twisting the lock. 
Back in the living room, Lip finds your shivering form still on the couch. He noticed the way your arms were wrapped around yourself in an attempt to warm yourself up, so he took it upon himself to grab a blanket from off a pile of magazines that was near the window. 
He draped it across your shoulders and watched as you gave him a drunken, grateful smile, before he sat down next to you. He tried not to think about the last time he was on the couch with you, back when the two of you broke up and you left the house in tears. It was hard to think that the time before that was when he had the house to himself for once and fucked you into the very cushions you were sitting on. 
Lip had to hold back a groan at the memory of it. You were drunk and very clearly upset, and he needed to be there for you, despite it being just over a week and a half since you broke up.
“Thanks,” you murmur softly as you bury yourself in the blanket. As you inhaled the scent that was the Gallagher’s, your brows furrowed and your eyes closed a bit more. “Wait, why am I here?”
Lip shook his head and leaned back on the couch, his elbow pressing into the armrest as he huffed, “Because your so called friends are fucking idiots,” he muttered and turned his head to look at you. “I’ve told you that before, I don’t know why you hang out with them.”
You refuse to meet his eyes as you give him a pathetic shrug. “Because they’re my friends,” you offer weakly and don’t have to look at him to know he was rolling his eyes. 
“Friends don’t pull the kind of shit that they just did,” he mumbled and desperately wanted to light a cigarette right now, but he didn’t want to leave you unattended. “Fuck, I mean…we’re fucking friends, and I wouldn’t do that to you. I wouldn’t leave you.”
Lip wasn’t actually sure where he stood with you. You were exes, sure, but friends? He had no clue if you were even friends at this point, but the whole relationship had originally started out as a friendship, so it wasn’t like you two couldn’t go back to that, no matter how much he hated the thought of just being your friend. 
“I was ruining their night,” you weakly tried defending your friends while also calling yourself out. 
Lip scoffed. “They told you that?”
You shake your head and inch closer to him, your body beginning to feel weak with fatigue. “They didn’t have to,” you mumbled. “I could tell I was being a wallflower, and they shouldn’t have to babysit me all night long just because I can’t get my shit together.”
He shook his head at your words. You were always one to defend the fucking idiots in your life, himself included whenever you stuck your neck out for him when you were still together. He tried to ignore the way you leaned even closer to him and was barely able to keep yourself upright. “They shouldn’t have invited you out in the first place when they knew you weren’t in the right state of mind to drink as much as you did,” he said, before quickly adding. “Which was fucking dumb, by the way. What were you thinking? You can barely handle one beer, let alone three.”
You look down at his lap, embarrassment washing over you at his tone. You felt like he was your parent and lecturing you about sticking to your limit when out at the bar, but he really wasn’t much better. “I was thinking about you,” you mutter and see his head turn to face you out of the corner of your eye. “I’m always thinking about you, and for one night, just one fucking night, I wanted to forget. I want to forget you.” 
Lip felt his heart deflate a bit at that, but he knew you were completely wasted, and he held onto that fact. There was no way you meant that, right? You had been together for nearly two years before calling it quits, and he’d hate to think he hurt you so much that you were beginning to regret getting with him in the first place. 
He wasn’t able to wallow in self pity for much longer, as you continued before he could even think about how to respond to that, “I still want you, still love you and I wish I never met you,” 
Your words caught him off guard, and he really wanted that cigarette now. 
He looked over at you and felt his shoulders tense up at the sad expression you wore. You weren’t making any sense, and he could only hope you would feel up to talk to him about this in the morning, when you were sober. 
For a minute, Lip let himself go back to when you were both so happy and together. He found himself getting lost in how it felt to be so close to you again, and how much he missed being around you, how much he missed you. “You should get some sleep, baby,” the name slipped past his lips before he could even stop himself, so used to calling you that, but you didn’t seem to mind as you just nodded. “You’re going to feel fucked up tomorrow.”
You closed your eyes and leaned towards him. He was about to stand up so you could lay down properly on the couch, but stopped when you blindly reached out to push him back down. When he is sitting down again, you wrap the blanket further around you before laying your head down on his thigh and using it as a pillow. 
Lip couldn’t move now even if he wanted to, and he really didn’t, as you fell asleep almost instantly. He sighed as he ran his fingers through your hair and glanced at the clock. The time read 2:35 in the morning, and he wondered just how much of this you would remember when you woke up in a few hours. 
-
He woke up the next morning when Fiona had made her way down the stairs, her being the first of many Gallagher’s to wake up. He lifted his head up from where it had tilted back against the top of the couch sometime last night when he fell asleep, and groaned quietly at the stiff muscles in his neck.
As his older sister passed by the door frame, she stopped and backtracked when she caught sight of you with your head still resting on his thigh, and your arm draped over his knee. She furrowed her brows as she mouthed, “Are you back together?”
Lip shook his head and watched the glimmer of hope fade from her face as the sound of Ian bounding down the stairs was heard throughout the house. “Oh, shit,” he said in surprise when he, too, saw you on the couch. “Are you guys back together?” 
Fiona answered for her brother, “No, they’re not,” 
Ian looked confused as he asked, “Then why is she sleeping on you?”
“Her fuckhead friends dropped her off here last night,” Lip said and looked down at you, the movement making his neck ache but he didn’t mind it as he caught sight of the way your lashes fluttered against your cheek. “Apparently she ruined their fun by drinking too much.”
Fiona cringed as she grabbed a mug. “Poor girl,”
Debbie was next to walk down the stairs, and her loud morning voice was what woke you up. Lip’s thigh was sore as you slowly lifted your head from it, and he decided that he liked it when you fell asleep on his chest a lot better. 
Your eyes are barely open as you sit up and immediately cover your ears when Debbie notices you. “Is that Y/n?!” She asked excitedly and ran over to you. You had no time to process anything as she threw herself at you in an embrace. 
“Hi, Debs,” you mutter, clearly confused as you hardly return the hug before she pulls away. 
“Knock it off,” Lip says as he tugs his sister away from you, knowing that you weren’t at all a morning person and were probably refraining from going off on the kid for waking you up. 
“Yeah, Deb, lay off the sugar before bed,” Fiona says sternly as she hands you a mug. You take it from her and sip the coffee, grunting in disgust when you were met with a bitter taste. “Black coffee is the best way to reduce a hangover. Take it from me.” 
You slouch back against the couch as you hold the mug with both hands, still in the process of waking up. Glancing to your right, you notice Lip still sitting next to you. “What happened last night?” You ask as you try to recall how exactly you ended up on your ex-boyfriend’s couch. 
“You got drunk, like, really drunk, and Melissa and Danielle dropped you off here,”
“Melissa and Danielle?” You ask with a furrowed brow before realizing who he was talking about. “Oh, you mean Marissa and Daneel?”
“Same difference,” he muttered just as Carl came flying down the stairs in a mess of limbs.
He reached the bottom and shot up when he walked by the couch. “Oh, hey, Y/n,” he greeted you as if your presence here was a normal thing, and up until almost two weeks ago, it was. 
You give him a half-assed wave before closing your eyes tightly and praying that you will survive the pounding in your head. 
Fiona must have felt bad for you as she quickly gathered up a few lunch foods before throwing them in a couple of disposable brown bags. “Okay, time to let the drunk girl rest,” she said and guided Ian, Debbie, Carl and Liam towards the front door. “Time to go to school. Lip, I take it you’re staying home to look after her?” She nodded at you and he waved her off as he stood up. 
“Yeah, yeah, I got her,” he said and walked into the kitchen. 
Soon, the house was empty except for you and Lip, and you cower further into the couch as you listen to him rummage around in the next room. After drinking half of the gross coffee, you felt well enough to sit up properly and shrug the blanket off of you, hating how it smelled like your ex. 
You place the mug on the coffee table just as he exits the kitchen with a plate in his hand. He sits next to you again, though a bit further away than before, and holds the plate out to you. “Toast?” You ask as you eye the food, ignoring the flutter in your heart at the fact that he had made you some form of breakfast, despite him not needing to. 
“With jam,” he corrected with a quick smile before it was gone and you were shaking your head. “It’s all we have.”
“Thank you,” you take the plate from him and lift the toast up to your mouth, taking the smallest bite possible out of it. 
“So,” he starts as you chew the lightly toasted piece of bread, hating that he knew your toast preferences so well. “Do you remember anything from last night?”
You put the toast back onto the plate and think about it for a second, before shaking your head. “Not really,” you answer and set the plate down on your lap. “Why? Did something happen?”
“Yeah,” he said, lifting his hand and massaging the stiffness out of the back of his neck. “Your scummy friends ditched you with me because you got drunk.”
You rolled your eyes and shove the plate back into his hands before grabbing the mug and standing up. “Just because you don’t like them, doesn’t mean they’re scummy,” you mutter and walk into the kitchen, finishing off the coffee and setting the mug down in the sink.
Lip scoffs as he bites into the toast he made for you. “No, them dropping you off at your ex-boyfriends house so they don’t have to keep an eye on you and to go get drunk makes them scummy,” he calls out to you and sets the half eaten toast on the plate, leaving it on the couch as he gets up to go after you. He finds you leaning against the counter, your arms crossed over your chest as you stare at him. 
You were still in the black dress you wore to the bar last night, and he was pretty sure that it was his favorite one, as he recalls complimenting you every time you wore it out with him. “They’re not so bad,” you say quietly, and Lip was about done with hearing you defend the people who abandoned you. 
“They’re the fucking worst,” he said, fed up. “I asked you this before, and even though you didn’t give me a decent answer then, I’m going to ask you again. Why the fuck do you continue to hang out with them?” 
You shrug pathetically as you avoid eye contact with him. “Because they’re all I have,”
Lip shakes his head at that, not happy with your answer at all as he leaned against the fridge across from where you were. “That’s bullshit,” he grunted. “You had me, you still have me. Why do you let them treat you like that? In all the years I’ve known you, you’ve always let people walk all over you. Then you get pissed off with me when I call you out on it. Why?”
“It was too much,” you mumble and shake your head, crossing your arms tighter. “It felt so right with you, too right. You made this fucked up place seem. You, Fi, fuck, even Carl. You guys are a real family who look out for each other. I never had that, never felt like I deserved it. You know where I came from and what my life was like before I met you. That’s what I deserve, not this. Not you.”
Lip had never heard such nonsense in all his life. He had never heard you talk like that about yourself, and he quickly decided he didn’t like it. “You think you deserve to go back to that life? To how things were before I took you away from all that shit? You don’t,” he crossed his own arms, mirroring your stance as you lifted your head to meet his eyes. “You’re smart, but you’re also fucking dumb if you think I’m going to allow you to go back to that part of your life.”
You tried not to let his words affect you, but you couldn’t ignore the way your heart skipped a beat at how much he still clearly cared for you. “It’s not up to you,”
“Damn it, Y/n,” he ran his hand through his hair, frustrated at you now. “Why can’t you see yourself in the way that everyone else does? Daneel or Danielle or whoever the fuck she is dosn’t give a shit about you, and you shouldn’t give a shit about her, either.”
You knew he was right, you knew that Daneel and Marissa were the definition of fake friends, but you didn’t have much experience around those who cared for you. Between your friends, parents and your siblings, none of them treated you like how Lip and his family did. Could you really be blamed for believing that you weren’t worthy of him? “They’re all I have-”
“They’re not, baby,” he slipped up and called you by the name once again, but didn’t bother correcting himself as he stepped forward and grabbed your right hand in both of his. “They’re not and you know it. You have me, and my own fucked up family. You have us. You and me.”
You felt shy suddenly as you asked, “Still?” He places your hand flat against his chest so you could feel the steady beat of his heart, something that calms you down as you clarify your question. “I still have you?” 
“Yes,’’ he answered and you don’t bother holding back a sigh of relief. “You still have me.”
“I’m sorry,” you nearly whispered, despite the two of you being the only ones in the house. “I missed you.”
“I missed you,” he said back, moving forward to press his forehead against yours. “Fuck, breaking up was the stupidest thing we’ve ever done.”
You hum in agreement as you bring your other hand up to rest against his chest while his reach down to grip your waist. “You regret it?”
“Are you kidding?” He scoffed before pressing a quick kiss to the skin of your neck. “I haven’t been able to sleep without you, that’s why I was on the couch last night before you even got here.”
Your face heats up at that, as well at the feeling of his lips on your skin. “Really?” 
Lip hummed as his forehead returned to yours. 
“Well,” you trailed off as you slid your hands up his chest and set them on the back of his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair. “We might have to do something about that. When was the last time you slept for more than a few hours?”
“When did we break up?”
“A week and a half ago,”
“About a week and a half ago,” he answered and you grinned for a second before he was closing the distance between you, pressing his lips to yours for the first time in nearly two weeks. 
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