Mentions of Lip Gallagher | reader sleeps with Lip, has feelings for him | Ian and Lip aren’t close | insecure reader | delusional | Ian is gay.
It was a normal Thursday afternoon, as normal as it possibly could be. You always tailed behind Ian during his shifts, the two of you talking for hours as he stocked shelves.
Though recently, you could agree that things had been a bit different recently; like every other girl-friend of Ian’s, you got yourself tangled up with his older brother, Lip. Rightfully so, pissing him off.
As of currently, he didn’t have the best relationship with his brother, but even if he did; he’d like to keep some of his friends to himself.
“You know, I think the other night—I think he was about to tell me that he loves me.” You grinned as you carelessly spun around a can of beans, watching as Ian stocked canned-goods like his life depended on it.
“Oh God.” Ian had scoffed, setting down a can of green beans and looking your way. “Lip, Lip isn’t that…not that special. He isn’t as much as a catch as you think he is.”
You paused; now clutching the can close to your chest. “Why do you say that?” You questioned, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed into a thin-line.
“You’re not the only one he’s with; he’s like totally obsessed with Karen, and is leading Mandy along too.” He snatches the can of beans from you, stocking it alongside the others.
“Uhm.”
An awkward silence bloomed between the two of you; I mean, what could you possibly say to that? It’s not like you assumed that there would be immediate monogamy between the two of you, though it would’ve been nice.
“I mean like, yeah, he’s talking to other girls. Cool. I just, like eventually him and I will figure our relationship out.” You humorlessly scoffed out a faint laugh. “I think him and I will be different.”
“You won’t be. Only if Karen like, dies. You’re lucky he doesn’t care all that much for Mandy, but you better hope she backs off.” He stepped down the small ladder, making his way to the back room to grab the next box of whatever, expecting you to follow behind him. You did.
“Well aren’t you friends with Mandy? Tell her to back off.”
“I’ve tried, it’s no use.” He shrugged, bending downwards to pick up a medium-sized box filled with a mix of candies. “I think,” he huffed, “just find some other guy, anyone’s better than him.”
With that, you stood alone in the back room. For once, you didn’t tail behind Ian. You had no idea what to do with this information; Lip’s charm had convinced that you were in love with him already, now you were finding out that there’s really no chance.
Even though you were an incredibly insecure teenaged-girl at times, you could realize that you were attractive in some aspects, but compared to Karen and Mandy? You didn’t know if you could compete, or if it was even worth it.
writers note: okay two mini fics in one night, heck yes! i didnt really know where this was going, it’s really just a short conversation with no plot. but i like writing confused, insecure teenaged girls finding out things that they shouldn’t, because that’s me like all the time1!111!1!
also, think of this as a prequel to the lip mini fic if you want, i guess they kind of match?
You always found yourself in this position; lying next to the eldest Gallagher son, in his bed, in his clothes and wrapped in his arms.
You could tell that you weren’t his first today, as the lingering smell of Karen’s—that damned bitch’s, floral perfume was spilled all over him. It smelled great, though.
Untangling yourself from his arms was always a challenge, only a few micro seconds went by before he started to question you. “What’s wrong?” Lip perked upwards.
“Nothing, but I should go.” You responded weakly, rubbing the underneath of your eyes to rub away stray mascara. Anything to avoid eye contact.
He started to sit up, before pausing, watching your movements closely with those damned blue eyes that made him look like a watchful bald eagle. The way you hadn’t gotten off the bunk, instead sitting on the edge for a prolonged period of time; seemed like you wanted him to beg for your presence.
“No, you don’t have to go anywhere.” Lip sat up all the way, revealing his bare chest. “Tell me what’s wrong.” His voice was soft as his hand found your shoulder, his cold hand making you flinch inwards.
“I’m not anything like her, you know.” You suddenly spilled, your eyes now meeting Lip’s.
It took you long enough to come to this conclusion. Hours, you had spent, trying to make your face look like Karen’s. Trying to dress like her, going as far as to copy her mannerisms to a tee. Anything to not be Lip’s second favorite.
It didn’t matter if you looked like her or not, if you acted like her—or even moved your hands the same way, you were different.
“God, dude, I—,” Lip scoffed, his pale-eyebrows furrowing as he looked away from you, the wrinkled blankets suddenly becoming more interesting to look than your face. “I—I don’t know what’s your problem, you always do this.” He sighed.
“‘Cause you like her more than me.” You muttered under your breath, your gaze drifting from his, staring at the fiddling hands in your lap as you began to shrink inwards like a kicked puppy.
Lip’s jaw clenched, your words pissing him off easily. Because you were right, of course. He preferred Karen over every other girl he interacted with, she was his one—not only, but just one.
“She doesn’t even care for you, Lip. She just walks all over you like a dog, and sleeps with a bunch of other guys.” You continued; shitting on Karen behind her back always made you feel better.
“And you don’t?” Lip hissed, it wasn’t a question that was meant to be answered, really.
“No.” You replied.
“What?”
“You’re the only person I’m sleeping with, is that such a surprise?” You hissed back.
“Yeah. Because we’re not together, you think I’d care if you were?” His eyes met yours again, the bright-blue hue becoming unnerving without their usual warmth.
‘We’re not together’ That’s what hurt, for some reason. You wished that he hadn’t confirmed it; that there was no monogamy involved in the two’s of you’s relationship. Lip wasn’t cheating on you with Karen, you were just getting butt-hurt over a broken, but nonexistent connection.
“I should go. Actually.” You murmured, actually making an effort to climb down the bunk.
“Yeah, you should. Go.”
You grabbed your phone and wired-earbuds, slipping into your clothes; which half of were his, and your winter boots before exiting his room, not looking back. At all. Not even thinking to return his clothing items, that’d happen later. Maybe.
The rest of the Gallagher house was cold; it smelled faintly of a stale candle, and laundry that was left in the wash for far too long. A scent that you had become nose blind to.
Downstairs held Ian, watching TV while sprawled across the couch. He looked at you with an expression you couldn’t quite decipher, his lips pursed into a firm-line before looking away. You’d definitely overthink about that tonight.
Almost tripping down the porch was a normal-habit for your walk of shame, but this time it was different. Felt emptier than usual, lacking your usual triumph. You glanced backwards once, eyes immediately locking on Lip’s window; you didn’t know why you expected to see him staring longingly at you, but, of course he wasn’t doing that.
The walk home was forgetful, cars passed you, birds squawked at you, and your playlist blasted through your earbuds, but it was all faint and unimportant. You hoped, that once you were home, you’d see Lip’s apology at the top of your timeline.
Probably not though.
writers note: hai ladies with gentle hands. sorry for the hiatus, school’s been kicking my bootee. this is kind of buns but i hoped you enjoyed it, maybe i’ll continue it if someone likes it.
and i know one person asked for a part two of my darry fic, maybe i’ll dip my toes into the idea of that c:
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this IS just all about me, nothing really special besides fandoms that i’m into and what i’m willing to write. and just about me in general, and my personality. ALSO!! u can request stuff from me (if it’s in the fandoms i listed, or if i’m interested, i’ll check out whatever fandom you’re recommending)
Basic ‘physical’ Information:
my name is marley-eden. you can call me marley, eden, or marley-e (i only use that name for videogames)
im 41 backwards, i have a summer birthday :)
i’m a cisgender unlabeled girl, i go by she/her — though, i dont mind ‘they’ pronouns !!
i do have a boyfriend in real life, and luckily he doesn’t know about this account. i dont even think he knows what tumblr is ! 😸
i have dark-brown eyes and curly dark brown (that i often straighten) hair with pale-ish skin (idk i’m kind of yellow, i might have jaundice /j (maybe)) i’m mentioning that because it might interfere with my fics!! i try to be as diverse as possible, but when i write i imagine myself (since i do a lot of x reader) and it might interfere. my apologies!
i DO have three cats (not counting the street cats ive named), and two dogs. i would go to war for all of them
i wear glasses (but not often) don’t make fun of me 😔
Okay, personality stuff now:
INFP-T
I love all sorts of media, movies, books, games, music, etc
on the topic of music, i dont have a music taste like — at all. i literally listen to whatever sounds good, but i’m usually not willing to listen to a new song — i really like whatever i already know
i like editing!!! i have multiple (now unused) editing accounts, but one that i’m fairly active on is firecrqcker on tiktok!!
i LOVE superhero media, i could never choose between marvel and dc. i love both.
on the topic of that; brandon routh is my favorite superman. (but i love every superman equally, even cavillman)
this is random, but i’m a complete straight-edge. i’ve only tried alcohol a few times, mostly on accident — once, on purpose. it was a sip of wine, it tasted like cranberry juice. i’m just not interested in it, but sometimes weed does seem appetizing
i like to document everything in a journal, which i would actually die if anybody went through it
i love writing, and before i started writing fanfics on here i would use c.ai and j.ai but it got quite boring after a year of usage
i’m an artist!!! i’m great at traditional sketches of faces (im studying bodies though), but i suck at coloring — so whenever i do digital, i dont color. just sketch on one layer
if i had to choose, i would be a werewolf instead of a vampire
media i like! (plus favorite characters):
supernatural (jack is my favorite character, if you were wondering) (i love all seasons of dean, all seasons of sam, and i love charlie cus shes me)
resident evil, every single game (i love older leon, but i appreciate all leon’s. i would literally motorboat chris’ ginormous boobs and feed on his breast milk for hours) (i love every character…steve and ethan whimpers has a special place in my heart)
TEEN WOLF!!! (literally why the reason my username is what it is) (i LOVE buzzcut stiles; really all seasons of him tho, all seasons of scott, isaac lahey, and allison)
twilightttt (team frigging jacob (for myself))
the boys tv show (the deep is my favorite character…hehe)
the outsiders (I LOVE ME SOME EMILIO ESTEVAZ)
starwars (i like 70’s luke and han) (I LOVE PADME AND LEIA)
the legend of zelda (oot link my baby)
life is strange (all games, but mainly the second one. bloodbrothers!ending danny my babycakes!!)
but technically for lis1, nathan and warren are my favorites…i don’t ship them though!! </3
anything with patrick swayze in it……
yellowjackets (I AM A PROUD SHAUNA SHIPMAN FAN!!! i also love jeff, travis, all mysterious quigleys, older!van, jackie, and walter)
spider-mannnnnnn (all of them…but can you guess my favorite? you’re wrong, it’s tom holland’s) (i also love tobey’s and andrew’s equally)
spider-verse, i felt like this needed to be a different category (I AM A SUCKER FOR 1610 MILES!!!)
og avengers, basic, my babies. (james buchanan barnes and samuel wilson my beloved)
on the topic of bucky, THUNDERBOLTS!!! (sorry, i’m basic. bob is my beloved, besides yelena. and john grew on me!!)
the flibbing x-men (i really only like the 2000’s movies though) (yes, i am a devoted scott summers fan)
detroit become human (everybody’s my favorite)
HOUSE!!!!! (i am a james evan wilson fangirl at heart, i have to support a fellow brown eyed person)
american horror story!!! it’s cool and alls…. i just haven’t finished season one… someone convince me pls
donnie FLIBBING darko
actually, anything gyllenhaal related
the walking dead, i like the TV show more than the game…sorry…but i also haven’t finished the game so idek (perhaps i am a basic dixon fangirl, but i REALLY like early seasons daryl. also, i am a ron anderson girly)
slushynoobz…technically it’s media (martin bias)
really any youtuber of that category (i love me some vanillamace)
gilmore girls (?) (i havent seen it, not much of it. but i DO like dean, and somewhat rory and maybe even lorelai and luke)
invincible!!! (i love season one mark, gosh he was so babygirl💔)
last of us, used to be really into it (i like abby’s dog and baby ellie)
silent hill (I LOVE SILENT HILL 3!!! GIRL TRAUAMA!!!!)
death note…i dont watch anime anymore, but i freaking swear that it’s peak
red dead frigging redemption (john is my beloved, and baby jack is actually my son)
Darry Curtis x fem!exgirlfriend (and babymama) reader
CW: nothing besides reader being a ‘single’ parent, kind of a cliffhanger(?). Reader is slightly (very, if you squint) difficult.
A/N: I didn’t mention the child’s name, so I left that up to the reader to imagine — but it is a boy and is early toddler-aged. And there’s no use of Y/N (apparently Y/N is a problem to some?)
Word Count : 1,295 (kind of a long one, sorry)
“You have a child?” Darry’s voice outwardly sounds neutral — though, something was off about it. You knew.
You didn’t mean to run into him — you were just running errands with your kid. Some mother-son bonding time that was now, unfortunately tainted.
“I did.” you responded quietly, eyes pointed downwards. As if you were a guilty dog. “This is my son.”
Darry and you were once a power-couple, you were supposed to get married — have children together, find your own place that could fit your children and his little brothers…but you two broke up, two years ago now. You don't like talking about the reason why.
Now there you were in front of him, holding hands with a nervous young toddler-aged boy next to you — sucking his thumb and eyeing Darry with weary eyes.
“Where’s his father?” Darry knew that the question was useless. The kid looked around two, it was possible that he was conceived after your guys’ breakup; but he doubted it.
You still didn’t meet his eyes. You squeezed your son’s hand tighter and sighed. “Not present, not an issue.”
Darry shook his head — speechless at first. Not present. No good-hearted man would willingly abandon his son, unless he was a bottom-of-the-barrel douche. But Darrel knew that you would never go for a man like that.
He took a step forward, looking down at the boy — he was anxious, like you; he had the same eyes, same facial expression, but not much of the same facial features.
He lowered his tone, “Be honest with me, Baby…” The nickname rolled off his tongue easily, comfortingly, “Am I…?”
His voice trailed off, not wanting to voice his question in front of the child — hearing a random man ask your mother, “Am I his father?” would definitely be a traumatic core memory.
In the moment, it felt like you couldn’t speak even if you wanted to — but you didn’t. You hoped to blink and teleport back into your living room, helping your son recognize and recite colors. But no, you were here — in front of the man who fathered your child, and you never told him.
“I need to go, Darry.” You said suddenly, tightening the grasp on your son’s hand — a little too hard, you’d remember to apologize to him about that later.
You walked off, ignoring Darry’s pleas for you to come back — to answer his question.
“I won’t be mad at you.” You heard him say, almost making you turn around — that’s what you feared in the first place, but you were already halfway tone, and it would’ve killed your ego if you quit now.
___
You put your son to bed at around nine, a little late — but you made sure to play with him a little extra so he’d forget that whole spiel from earlier. Though, (un)fortunately, he was a smart boy. He remembered. But he wouldn’t ask you about it; for a two year old, he knew how to read the room pretty well.
Standing in front of your bathroom mirror, you brushed your teeth and applied numerous face creams to keep yourself ‘youthful’ — you were already pretty young, barely twenty. Though God forbid you were a little insecure.
That’s when you heard a knock at the front door — you ignored it at first, it was late, and you weren’t expecting anyone. But it became more persistent, and any more of it would’ve woken up your son.
You wrapped your robe and mentally prepared yourself to answer to whomever it was — but nothing could’ve prepared you to see Darry.
“Hey.” His hands were casually shoved into his pockets — he was usually so formal with front door etiquette, but he must’ve been so nervous that he was fidgeting with the denim of his blue jeans.
“Hey…” You crossed your arms over your robe — the air suddenly became more chilly. “didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Where’s the boy?” He asked.
“…Asleep.”
“Can I come in?”
“I guess.” You stepped back, opening the door wider.
The two of you sat on the couch, far from each other. As far as you could be.
It was awkward at first, with how quiet it was — that was until he spoke, quiet, but not silent.
“I’m sorry for how…direct I was earlier.” He apologized easily. Darry was always great at taking accountability.
Your lips pursed into a firm line — not knowing what to say. It was once so easy to talk to him, now, not so much.
“I’m…also sorry for…walking away. Running away.” The apology sounded as if it was forcefully ripped from your vocal cords — it was sincere, in your heart it was. Just, not so much with your brain.
Darry didn’t look at you, he only stared at the carpet — he was manspreading, but hunched over with his elbows on his thighs; twiddling his thumbs.
“It’s fine — If you answer my question.” He rasped, jaw clenched. He wasn’t upset with you, just irritated.
“I don’t know what you want me to say.” When you spoke, you immediately regretted it. You could’ve just said the truth — but instead, you chose to be difficult.
To Darry — it seemed like you wanted to stay a single mother. You were struggling, he knew it with the bags underneath your eyes — so why did you choose to be like this?
“You know what I want you to say, it’s simple.” His hands clasped together, clutching painfully tight. “Am I the boy’s father, yes — or no?”
“I…I don’t,” you stammered, but were quickly interrupted by Darrel’s raised voice:
“No — no ‘I’s’, just tell me if I’m his father!” He didn’t yell, only spoke with a little more force. But that wasn’t like him at all.
“You are — you are.” You immediately gave-in, cracking under the pressure.
Darry looked at you, seeing how you tried to stop your face from twisting into an expression of vulnerability — trying to hide all soft parts of you.
He sighed, standing up from his seat — walking over to you and kneeling. “Hey, look at me.”
You glanced upwards, meeting Darry’s eyes for the first time. A tear fell down from your right eye, and others swelled up in your left — it broke Darry, seeing you like this. Even after two years of no-contact, no feelings.
“I didn’t mean to yell,” his large hands cupped your cheeks, “I just…don't want a child — especially one so precious as yours, to grow up without a father.” He confessed.
You nodded in his hands, sniffling. “I know. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” You broke — tears evenly flowing from both eyes, broken breaths leaving your lips.
“Hey — hey, don’t cry. It’s okay, it’s okay.” He assured, moving to sit on the couch next to you — pulling your head forward so you could cry into his chest.
“Im not mad at you for keeping it a secret, I’m really not. I’m just happy that I know now. You know, I’ve always wanted a child of my own.” His large hand rubbed your back — and you eventually calmed down in his embrace, quietly sniffling and wiping tears as you thought of the past — being a first time, single mother to a little boy who had Darry’s face, then the present — being held in Darry’s arms. The future — fantasizing about you two’s relationship being repaired, with Darry taking care of your son, and half of your stress being lifted off your back.
For the first time in a long time, you were sure that things would be okay from here on out.
being an x reader writer and trying to be inclusive of all readers makes me overthink so much like should i write about you having smth with milk in it? no no what if the reader is lactose-intolerant. about the reader being the big spoon? noo what if they wanna be cuddled like a little spoon. about fingers through your hair? noooo what if the person reading it is bald
You’ve been watching Clark for a few years now – since late grade school, early middle school. Basically, ever since he hit puberty earlier than everybody else. I mean, how could you not? He was huge. Not fat – just abnormally ginormous for an early teenager.
But now – it was different. Since freshman year started, Smallville’s gotten weirder – well, it was weird since the meteor shower years ago, when you were a newborn. But now, you swore that it’s gotten even wackier – and every wacky mishap that you’ve noticed always had Clark Kent at the scene of the damn crime! – what was he, a spy? Was he really fifteen? Maybe his parents were in on it too. They were all freaking spies!
You tell yourself that it’s just a normal suspicion, that you were just mildly freaked out. It wasn’t a crush or anything, even if Clark was strangely attractive – perhaps otherworldly, you were just curious. And you would find out whatever was freaking wrong with him.
___
Chloe Sullivan. Clark’s over-dramatic friend, maybe best friend? The two were bipolar with each other, or maybe just Chloe was. Despite the fact that you didn’t really want to go to her for help, you did anyway.
“Clark? What’s weird about him? Everything, really. I'm convinced that he’s just an alien from another planet, really.” She smirked, shrugging before skipping off without letting you reply – maybe she didn’t want to talk about Clark; maybe she liked him?
For some reason, the idea ticked you off. But you swore – you didn't like Clark Kent!
Anyway, you couldn’t risk asking any more of Clark’s friends – you’ve already made a dumb decision by asking Chloe first, knowing how she liked to run her mouth. You just couldn’t risk it by asking anybody else he knew.
___
So that’s how you ended up in front of his house, yeah – weird, you knew it! But you were completely nonchalant about it, just casually walking by, peeking subtly…
“Y/N!” You heard Clark’s shout, and your head snapped towards the direction of his barn – oh, how convenient. He was there, doing whatever you do in a freaking barn – but now, waving you towards him.
Your body betrayed you as it quickly made way towards Clark, and before you could know it – there you were, right in front of him. “Clark.” You breathed, a nervous smile plastered on your face – was it hot in here?
“What’re you doing over here? You’re far from home.” He asks, his tone evidently concerned – but not too worried, as he still had that stupid smirk. Does his face just…do that?
“I’m not too far,” you lied, “I only live a few minutes from here.” You lied again.
“No you don’t.” Clark retorted.
“What?”
“You live near the stores, and you don’t drive.” Clark knew you were lying – cause frankly, you were a shit liar, but he wasn’t mad. If anything, he found this amusing. But you didn’t.
You stayed silent, lips pursed into a firm line – flustered cheeks puffed outwards. You couldn’t deny his words, so you might as well bring up what you came here for.
“You’re weird, Kent.” You internally cringed as you said his last name as if you were a stereotypical-eighties bully.
Clark’s eyebrows furrowed and his head jerked backwards, expecting a defensive response instead of whatever that was. “I’m weird?”
“Yeah. You’re taller than average, not like that’s important – but, you’re always at the scene of the crime when anything goes weird here!” You exclaimed.
Clark stared at you, what felt like for an eternity – but was probably only a few milliseconds. “Oh, gosh. You’re paranoid.” He smiles, shaking his head.
“Smallville’s a weird – small place, [Y/L/N]. Stuff goes on in every nook and cranny of it, it’s hard to avoid.”
You were absolutely pissed! He was basically calling you crazy, but had the decency to soften it up into you just being paranoid – it was hard not to be.
You couldn’t even come up with a clever quip before Clark suddenly turned to walk off. “No – don’t go!” You tried to grab his arm, but it didn’t work – he was too quick, already half-way gone.
“I’ll see you at school – don’t stay in the barn all night!” He walked off – no, strutted off basically. He left you alone in his barn, now you were just standing there looking like an idiot – and feeling like one too.
But you knew that you wouldn’t let this go – this entire interaction wasn’t a thousand doors closing, but a million opening.