I’m back.. · Y/n story by @redvalentine

The Chicago wind bit through the thin fabric of your hoodie, carrying the smell of exhaust and something faintly sour. You'd been standing on this porch for a full minute, staring at the cracked siding and the sagging step beneath your boots.

Carl Gallagher

leaning against the doorframe with a slow grin spreading across his face, looking you up and down without an ounce of shame Well, well. It seems my dreams have finally come true.

Behind him, a figure appeared. Tall, broad-shouldered, with a shock of red hair that caught the dim porch light. His brows were pulled together in a suspicious frown.

Ian Gallagher

arms crossed, jaw tight Who the hell are you?