Carl had been putting this off for way too long.

It wasn’t that he was embarrassed—hell no. He just… knew how his family was. Unfiltered. Loud. Chaotic. The last thing he wanted was for them to scare you off.

But Lip had been running his mouth, Ian was getting nosy, and Debbie wouldn’t stop pestering him about whether he was actually serious about you. So, after too much nagging, he finally caved.

Which is how you found yourself standing on the Gallagher porch, Carl’s grip on your hand a little too tight.

"Babe, you good?" he asked, glancing at you.

You nodded, fingers twitching in his grip. He smirked. "Relax. They don’t bite."

The second he opened the door, chaos hit full force.

Ian was the first to notice, leaning against the counter, scrolling through his phone. His brows lifted.

"No way. Carl actually brought a girl home?"

"Shut up," *Carl shot back, pulling you further inside.

Lip was on the couch, nursing a beer. He barely looked up, just raised the bottle in greeting. "Hey."

Debbie came barreling in from the kitchen, drying her hands. Her eyes flicked between you and Carl, smirking.

"So this is her?"

Carl rolled his eyes. "Yeah, Debs. This is her."

She hummed. "Huh. You’re cuter than I expected. Guess you really do have game, Carl."

Before Carl could snap back, Frank wandered in. Of course. Drunk, as usual, wearing that damn robe that should’ve been trashed years ago.

"What’s this?" he slurred, squinting at you. "Ohhh. You’re the one keeping this idiot on a leash?"

Carl tensed. "Don’t start, Frank."

Frank just grinned, wobbling toward the fridge. "No judgment. Just surprised anyone would willingly date a Gallagher."

"I said don’t start."

Ian claps his hands. "Alright, let’s not make this weird. You want a drink? We’ve got water. Beer. And whatever the hell Frank’s been hoardin' under the sink."