Top Posts Tagged with #( its been a while since i put out an inbox call ) | Tumlook (2024)

INBOX CALL ! Like for a dream girl to show your character’s dream world ! For multi’s specify muse on your side ! You’ll get a very in-depth description of your surrealistic domain for fun <3

hiya! i’m a really big fan of your stranger things work and I was wondering, if youre comfortable of course, a steve x reader period imagine where reader tried to hide their period from Steve, but he finds out and is super fluffy and sweet about it? thank you!

HAHAH wow i have let this ask stew in my inbox since last year thats CRAZY im so sorry my dear,, i was going through old asks and i rlly like this prompt actually so here u go, i hope u enjoy!!!!

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

tags: established relationship, obv mentions of periods / menstruation, reader is referred to as female, steve being dense at first lol, regular sized font below!

wc: 1.4K

notes: while the reader in this fic is female, i am well aware not everyone who has a period is a girl, and not everyone who's a girl has a period!

Steve is one attentive boyfriend.

It’s the early stages of your relationship, the golden era, the honeymoon phase. And while you’re a still a bit nervous about it all, you couldn’t be happier, because he does it all right.

He knows your favourite snacks, what music you like, what makes you laugh, what makes you cry. He’s starting to figure out your ins and outs, and it’s almost crazy how quickly he’s catching on. You have no reason to feel judged by him at any point, he truly is comfort poured into the shape of a person.

So then why are you staring at your phone right now, struggling to dial his number and just tell him why you can’t make it to your date?

It’s not usually this bad, at least it hadn’t been for a while, so why now, of all moments, must you be forsaken to be terrorised by your period?

You bite your lip, laying flat onto your bed, hand over your lower stomach. It's right where the pain is just gnawing at you, just like the guilt is. But you know you’d feel even guiltier if you just stood him up, he doesn’t deserve that. You sit up, a tad slowly to save yourself from another cramp, and swallow your nerves for now.

“I’ll just… Tell him I’m sick. Yeah… Yeah I can do that.” You think to yourself.

The combination of his number had started to feel natural to your fingers now, unlike how anxiously you pressed the buttons the first time, triple checking before finally pressing call. You're triple checking again now, more so because you're not sure you can handle hearing the defeat in his voice when you tell him you can't make it.

The phone barely gets a moment to ring before he picks it up, and his all too familiar sweet voice comes through the device.

"Hey babe, everything okay over there?"

You pause a moment before replying. "How did you know it was me calling?"

"Lover's intuition." He chuckles, and it makes your heart flutter. It's not fair how easy it is for him to do that to you, but you enjoy it nonetheless. "So, what's going on?"

"I, uh..." God, getting the words out is like pulling teeth. But you'd rather die than let him think you just got cold feet about your movie date. "I'm really not feeling too well right now, Steve... I'm-- I'm so sorry, I'm gonna have to cancel for tonight." Your eyes are welling up with tears before he even gets a chance to reply, just imagining his pretty face losing its bright expression when hearing your unfortunate news.

"Oh," damnit, he does sound sad, "that's okay, uhm... Is there anything I can do? What kinda sick is it?"

sh*t, he's gonna make you say it, isn't he? You know Steve is a mature guy, he knows about periods, knows how they work, but you've been told to suck it up and get on with it before... A part of you is still disappointed that you just can't.

"U-Uhm... It's more like, a stomach thing, I guess?" It's the best way you can put it for now, hoping it'll put his worries to rest.

"Okay, I see..." You can nearly hear him thinking, the subtle noise of bags being moved and a fridge being opened coming through the phone. "Uh, how aboouuut... I come over to yours, and we just watch a movie at home? I still got a couple of tapes we haven't gotten to, and I can bring some light snacks that won't upset your stomach too much."

The thought of Steve caring for you while you're sick sends a warm feeling through your entire body. God, how does he just keep getting better? But you can't lie to him, right? It's not like you're really sick, unless you count the curse of menstruation as a symptom.

Before you get a chance to explain, he's talking again, and by the ruckus in the background you can only guess he's rushing to grab all his stuff. "I'll be heading out in a bit, I'll stop by the corner store too, stay put for me alright? See ya in a bit!"

You're sure he didn't realize he wasn't letting you talk, but frankly, you probably couldn't even come up with a response on time anyways. Right now, you just have to worry about looking somewhat presentable, and maybe figure out a way to tell him you're not actually sick.

By the time you've brushed your hair and brushed some mascara onto your lashes, you're already hearing the doorbell. You just manage to pull a fresh shirt over your head, before stumbling down the stairs and stopping in front of the door. With a deep, loaded, sigh you open it, to reveal your boyfriend.

Hair messed up, plastic bag in hand, jacket haphazardly thrown on. He clearly rushed to be here, still panting a little, but in your eyes, he's the image of your guardian angel, your saviour in need.

Before either of you know it, you're crying again, your freshly applied mascara now leaving thin black streaks over your cheeks. Your hands go up to cover your face, embarrassed, not even sure why you're sobbing all of a sudden. The feelings just hit you like a freight train, rocking you before you even have a time to rationalize.

Steve's expression falters, the bag he had in hand dropping to the floor in an instant, stepping in closer so he can carefully wrap his arms around you and pull you to his chest. Not too tight, he doesn't want to startle you. He's a bit distraught; he's really only seen you cry at a sad movie scene before, so he's a bit unsure as to what's caught you to be so upset right now.

"I-I'm sorry..." you manage to mutter through your incoherent sobs and sniffs, effectively ruining the front of his shirt in the process.

"Hey, hey..." His big hands go up to your face, gently cupping your wettened cheeks as he looks into your teary eyes. Hell, the image of you is almost enough to make him break too. "What're you sorry for? You can't help it that you're sick, right?"

The reminder of your lie makes you want to break eye contact in shame, but it's hard to force yourself to lose sight of that soft, caring gaze of his.

"I," sniff, "I lied, I'm so sorry Steve, I-- I'm not sick, I just... I have..."

He watches you expectedly, not upset, just curious. You'd surely have your reasons if whatever caused you to cancel is making you this upset.

"I'm... I'm just on my period and it-- it hurts really bad, it's not even usually this bad, and I felt like I was overreacting and I feel so bad and--" Your ramble gets cut short by his chuckle, the same one that nearly caused you to melt over the phone earlier.

"W-Wha... Why are you laughing?" You're not sure if you should be happy or worried, you're already experiencing so much at once, it's hard to pick one emotion to feel.

"Nothing, it's just, well," he picks up the bag he dropped, opening it slightly to show the bars of chocolate, candy and your favorite chips inside. "I had a feeling."

The sight of it makes you snap out of your state of distress, and you can’t help but crack a smile through your tears. “Seriously? How?”

He shrugs, a sheepish smile adorning his face. “I told you, lover’s intuition.” He pulls you back to him and kisses your head. “There’s another bag in the car with chicken soup in case I was wrong.”

You both laugh, just hugging on your doorstep for a moment. You have to let it sink in, that maybe Steve just is that sweet and considerate of a guy.

“D’you wanna go inside, or does standing outside help with cramps?” He pulls back a little, and you fight the urge to poke him in the ribs for his sarcasm. You love it either way.

“Yeah, let’s go inside. We can watch When Harry Met Sally and I can cry my eyes out again. Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect.”

-

-

-

-

-

-

ALL YOURS - ( roomie!matt pt 5 )

summary- you and your roommate matt have been sleeping together for a minute now, but neither one of you wants to ask the other what it means. feelings come to fruition one night at a party and the dynamics of your relationship change once again.

warnings- nsfw content ahead people so read at ur own risk, swearing, drug/alcohol use, dom!matt kinda, unprotected sex, it’s straight up smut at the end so fr don’t read it if u don’t want to!

roomie!matt x fem!reader

a/n: THIS IS TECHNICALLY PART 5 OF THE ROOMIE!MATT TEXT SERIES so if you haven’t read those you might be a bit confused. link to the master list is here.

strap in because it’s kinda long so i hope u guys love this final chapter as much as i do <3 inbox is always open xo

@sleepysturnss

rain patters against the windows mercilessly as the tv drones on, interrupted only by booming thunder every few minutes.

its late in the day now, and the cloud coverage makes it extra gloomy, even with interior lights on. not that this bothers you.

storms have always been a source of comfort in your eyes. something about them makes you feel safe, reminds you that the world is far bigger than whatever is worrying you.

“oh, i’ve been meaning to ask if you’re still seeing that guy. what’s his name again?” nick asks from beside you, scrolling mindlessly on his phone as he slumps against the couch.

you’ve been sitting like this for hours together, rotting in his living room while it continues to pour outside.

“it’s luke, and no, i’m not talking to him anymore.” you reply, trying to sound as casual as possible.

he looks up at you now, clearly a bit shocked to be hearing this. “please tell me it’s not because of my bitch ass brother.”

you bark out a laugh before you can stop yourself, mostly due to the fact that it’s absolutely because of matt. just not for the reason he thinks.

“as if. it was my decision, don’t worry.”

this is only half true. you did cut the poor guy off, but only because matt had essentially instructed you to do so before you guys had sex for the first time a month ago.

and then you hooked up again. and again. and a couple more times after that. neither of you could stop coming back for more apparently.

none of your friends know yet. as much as you want to be honest with them, you haven’t really talked about the details of this little situation. you’re almost positive matt hasn’t been seeing anyone else, but you also haven’t outright asked.

and there’s no use telling everyone about something that might not even be real.

“what made you do that? was the sex bad? is he an asshole?” nick interrogates further, clicking his phone off so his full attention is on you.

you can’t tell if he’s suspicious or if you’re just genuinely paranoid, but you don’t like this line of questioning either way.

“no he’s fine, he just wasn’t doing it. and his breath always smelled for some reason.” you’re lying through your teeth, but his face morphs into an expression of disgust like he’s buying it.

“ew, major turn off.”

“you’re telling me.”

nick sighs and snuggles further into the cushions, resting his head on your shoulder as he stares at the tv.

“well for what it’s worth, i’m sorry it didn’t work out. but who knows, maybe you’ll meet someone sexy at nathan’s tomorrow.” he says.

“yeah, maybe.” you feed into the hypothetical, even though you know that won’t be happening.

at least not if matt sturniolo has a say in it.

-

your music is playing softly over the speaker as you get ready, perched in front of your vanity like a doll. you’ve just finished your makeup when you hear a singular tap on the door.

“can you hurry it up in here?” matt calls as he pushes it open slightly.

you find it funny that he’s always sure to knock, ever since he walked in on you naked that fateful afternoon. even though you’re literally sleeping together now, he makes it a point to not invade your privacy.

“can’t rush perfection, matthew.” you taunt him as you put your palette and brushes back in their rightful place.

he moves further into your room, walking over to stand behind you. he’s dressed up in jeans and that black muscle tee you love so much, tattoos on display as his hands go to knead your shoulders lightly.

“you do look amazing.” he compliments.

“likewise.” you reply before meeting his searing gaze in the reflection of the mirror.

he increases his pressure slightly, digging his fingers into your neck in a steady pattern. you already know what he’s angling at and he hasn’t even spoken.

“you know, we could just stay home.” matt suggests with a smirk.

“c’mon, we can’t keep ditching our friends. they’re gonna get suspicious at some point.” you shake your head and stand up, because the massage is starting to feel a little too good.

“nobody cared when we left early last time.”

you cross your arms over your chest and turn to give him a pointed look. “because you convinced them that i was sick.”

“so i’ll just tell them a different lie.” he shrugs.

“oh my god, i am going to this party with or without you, so you better make up your mind before the uber gets here.” you say over your shoulder, headed out of your room toward the stairs.

“such a brat.” he grumbles, but you hear him following you regardless.

“only for you.”

two hours later you’re standing in the middle of nathan’s living room, dancing along with the typical crowd. nick and madi are on either side of you, both bopping around drunkenly to the beat.

you’ve had three sh*tty drinks at this point and your head feels a bit fuzzy. you’re positive your cheeks are flushed, which is actually kind of nice.

matt was with you minutes earlier, but he’s ventured off to get another drink. it’s selfish that you miss him every second he’s not around.

it’s just nice having him by your side. sure, it was kind of casual at first, and you didn’t think it was going to develop so quickly. but now whatever is going on between you means a whole lot more.

you like when he asks you to spend the night in his room, or when he saves the last can of redbull for you so you don’t go to work without caffeine. you like that he’s been replacing the flowers he got you every time they start die, the way he insists on driving you places even if it’s out of his way.

you just like him, and it’s more than casual. at least it is to you, and you can’t imagine that at this point he doesn’t feel the same.

but you don’t want to be the one to try and put a label on it. quite frankly, it scares the sh*t out of you, and you’re still not drunk enough to keep thinking about it in the middle of this party.

you see chris a few feet away against the wall, beer in his hand as he chats animatedly with nathan. you know he has what you’re looking for, so you shout that you’ll be back and head their direction.

they both smile at you as you approach, almost perfectly in sync.

“what’s up!” chris leans down a bit so you can hear him better.

“do you still have that joint you mentioned earlier?” you ask into his ear.

he nods happily, and nathan shoots you both a questioning glance. by the looks of his sleepy eyes, he’s probably already crossed.

“we’re going to smoke!” you fill him in, motioning toward the front door.

nathan nods and tells you he’ll stay back, so the two of you shuffle your way out of the living room, trying to avoid bumping into as many people as possible.

you pass the kitchen, and as your eyes scan the people you spot matt huddled in the corner. he’s talking to a very obviously enthusiastic girl, one that you don’t recognize. your stomach drops at the sight of them, and you hate it.

he doesn’t see you, so you turn your head and keep following behind chris. he’ll stop talking to her soon. he’ll probably even come looking for you instead.

right?

the crowd thins as out by the door, and the two of your step out into the fresh air moments later. the street is relatively quiet, and once the door is shut the noise of the party is muffled. there’s nobody else outside, and you’re grateful.

the other townhouses stare at you as chris crosses the short driveway so he can hide underneath the tree in the yard. you follow his lead, watching as he fishes the lighter and joint out of his front pocket.

“keeping it handy, huh?” you joke.

“you caught me at the right time, i just packed it upstairs.” he smiles before putting it between his lips.

the flame burns the end as he takes a hit, exhaling up toward the sky. you pass it back and forth in silence, both enjoying the momentary break from socialization.

chris clears his throat a minute later, nudging at the grass with his toe absentmindedly. “so, i have a question to ask you.”

he looks over so he can hand the joint back, and your hands shake ever so slightly as you reach out to take it.

“yeah?”

“i think matt is seeing someone. do you know anything about that?” he asks bluntly.

you try to remain calm as you shake your head at him, though it seems impossible. you aren’t prepared for this at all.

“uh, no?”

chris smiles just a little bit, like he’s already got you right where he wants you. “so he doesn’t bring anyone over? it’s just the two of you?”

your narrow your eyes at him. “just ask what you want to ask.”

“are you guys together?”

there it is. you were expecting it this time, and it still makes your stomach flip.

“no. i mean, kind of? we’re not like, dating. we’re just…uh…hooking up.” you’re trying so hard to figure out how to put it that it sounds horrible.

he just laughs. “no you’re not. that kid is in love with you.”

your jaw drops slightly in surprise, and this only makes chris chuckle harder.

“what the f*ck are you talking about?” you ask him once he finally calms down.

“i’ve seen how he’s acting lately. so f*cking goofy, like he’s got his head in the clouds. he only ever gets all dopey like that when he really likes someone, and i kind of suspected it was you.”

it’s hard to find any words. there’s simply nothing on your brain, no coherent thought to be found. chris gives you a playful nudge.

“it’s okay, i won’t tell anyone if you don’t want me to. but i think you feel the same.” he makes a guess, and he’s very accurate.

you look away as you take your final hit, trying to decide how you want to respond. you exhale the smoke and pass the remainder of the joint back to him.

“okay, you got me. i do want it to be like, a real relationship. and i’ll talk to him about it soon, i promise. just please don’t tell anyone until i do.” you plead.

he wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a side hug. you relax into him, and you have to admit you’re a bit relieved that at least somebody knows now.

“of course not. i’m here to support you both whenever you’re ready. everyone else will be too.”

“thank you. that makes me feel a lot better, seriously.” you say truthfully as he pulls away.

“good.” he nods in satisfaction, giving you a loopy grin.

“i’ve mooched enough, so i’m gonna go back inside, but thanks again. i owe you a blunt for the reality check.” you point a finger at him as you back up off of the grass.

“i’ll never turn that down.”

the high has taken over as you spin around to walk normally, and it’s nearly impossible to stop smiling. having confirmation that you’re not crazy for feeling the way that you do is wonderful.

you head back inside the house, almost positive that you’d find matt hanging out somewhere with your friends.

but as you pass the kitchen again, you spot him in the same place, leaned up against the end of the counter with a solo cup in hand. it seems like the girl is even closer than she was before.

your face falls immediately. it makes you angry that it’s been so long and he still hasn’t told her to get lost yet. if he wants to be all possessive over you, then you shouldn’t have to act so cool for him.

you’re certainly not feeling collected right now. and he deserves to know that.

you wedge your way around the people chatting and pouring themselves drinks without a second thought. matt sees you coming before you actually reach him, and he looks confused by your irritated expression.

you wrap your fingers around his arm wordlessly, right in the middle of the nameless girl’s sentence. he doesn’t put up a fight. in fact, he’s practically hot on your heels as you pull him back toward the hall.

“uh—hey! we were talking bitch!” she shouts after you.

“don’t care.” you don’t even give her the satisfaction of making eye contact.

there’s really no point. matt is trailing behind you like a puppy, and that’s all that matters. he clearly doesn’t want to be there any more than you want him to.

“what’s going on?” he asks as you maneuver around the outside of the crowded living room, making a beeline for the staircase.

it’s taped off to everyone except your group, in case of emergency.

this feels like one, considering you don’t even care if anyone sees you together. you don’t respond, you just let go of his hand and step over the thin barrier, glancing behind you to see if he’ll follow.

there’s a curious look in his eye, but he does the same.

you continue up the stairs, making sure he has the perfect view of your ass as you go. you can literally feel him staring, which only stokes the fire.

“are you taunting me right now?” matt asks as you reach the second floor.

this makes you pause, and you turn around so you can wrap your hand in his shirt. you yank him into the bathroom, slapping the light switch on with your free hand.

you close the door behind you, which suppresses the booming sound of nathan’s music playing through the speakers.

“what the hell is this?” you uncurl your fist and shove his chest to put some space between you.

his eyebrows shoot up in surprise as he regains his balance and sets his cup down on the counter. you realize you probably spilled some of it by dragging him around, but that’s not your main focus right now.

“what do you mean?”

“don’t you dare play dumb. you can’t stand it when anyone else even breathes near me, so why would you think that i would be okay watching you flirt with some random girl for fifteen minutes? you either want me or you f*cking don’t, matt.” you spit, crossing your arms over your chest defensively.

it’s shocking that you’re being this honest with him, but you’re faded and you’ve been pushed beyond your limit.

no use tip-toeing around it now.

“you think just because she came up to me that somehow means i don’t want you?” he asks, and there’s more of an edge to his tone now.

“how am i supposed to know? we haven’t talked about it, whatever this is.” you wave your hand back and forth between the two of you.

a look of understanding passes over his face. “oh, this is about labels, huh?”

this infuriates you more, because that’s not even the point you’re trying to make. he’s aggravatingly calm right now, like he’s so sure of himself.

“look, if you don’t want to be in a real relationship with me, then fine. i don’t care. but i’m not gonna keep exclusively sleeping with just you if that’s the case.”

matt is silent for a moment, eyes darting across your face. you can see him gazing at your lips, and it drives you crazy.

he takes one step forward, staring you down with those pretty blue eyes. even though your height different is relatively small, it still feels like he’s towering above you.

“are you really trying to tell me you wouldn’t care at all if i wanted to see other people?” he asks quietly.

his face is so close, and you breathe in his familiar smoky cologne. it’s dizzying, being this overwhelmingly attracted to someone.

“of course i’d be upset, but there’s not much i can do about it if you don’t feel the same.” your voice is hushed now too, and you wish you didn’t sound so weak.

matt cups your chin gently with one hand, forcing you to keep your focus on him. your heart is slamming against your ribcage now, begging for some kind of relief.

“i want to be with you so bad that it kills me.” he finally admits.

it’s your turn to be stunned, and you stay completely still as his thumb grazes over your bottom lip slowly.

“i had this whole thing planned, i was going to take you to a fancy little restaurant and ask you out like a gentleman. but you just couldn’t wait, could you?” his voice is husky, pupils blown out in lust.

“i…really?” you ask breathlessly.

“really. so what do you think? you wanna be mine?” he goads with a smirk, gripping your face a bit tighter.

it’s normally hard to swallow your pride, especially with matt, but you’re so vulnerable in this moment you can’t tell him anything besides the truth.

“i do.”

“good, because you already are.” he growls before closing the gap between you, lips crashing against yours.

he tastes sweet, like the soda he’s been mixing with vodka all night. it’s a pleasant mess of teeth and tongue as you deepen the kiss, passionate in a way that you’ve never experienced with him before.

his hands travel down to grab at your hips, pressing against you so your lower back bumps against the sink. you tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling enough to elicit a groan.

it vibrates against your mouth, and you feel yourself throb just from that little noise alone. he’s normally not very vocal, but you bring it out of him.

matt’s hands slide up your body, finding their way under the hem of your sheer lace top. his cold rings press against your stomach as he slowly inches higher, leaving goosebumps in their wake. you let go of him, throwing your hands upwards so he can peel the shirt over your head.

“so f*cking pretty, just for me.” matt praises as he tucks your hair behind your ear, attaching his lips to your neck seconds later.

you tilt your head back to give him a better angle, sighing in pleasure as he nips at the soft skin. one hand is feeling up your chest as his teeth dig into your collar, tongue sliding over the marks he’s leaving in an attempt to soothe the irritated areas.

you move your own fingers down between both of your bodies, ghosting them over the crotch of his jeans, palming him just a bit. his dick is already straining against your hand, and he hisses a string of curses into your shoulder.

“no more teasing tonight, i need you now.” he grumbles, already out of breath as his hands travel to undo the button of your pants.

you take the lead and slide them down yourself, tearing your thin panties off with them because you want him just as much. it doesn’t seem fair that you’re the only one exposed, so you tug his muscle tee upwards in desperation.

matt doesn’t protest, he just tosses it to the floor with the rest of your discarded clothes. you let your fingers rake over his skin, down his abdomen and over his happy trail until your fingers meet the waistline of his jeans.

you glance up at him through your lashes as you unbuckle his belt, entirely naked now, and he swears he could finish just by looking at you.

the sensation of your hands skimming against his thighs as you drag his jeans and boxers to his ankles makes him twitch. nobody has ever turned him on the way you do, and it’s frightening how good you make him feel.

but you always enjoy everything just as much, because he’s the best dick you’ve ever had. perfect length, enough girth to stretch you out, and he knows exactly how to move to your liking. matt even keeps it trimmed nicely.

the tip glistens with precum, and you pull your hair back with one hand like you’re getting ready to put it in your mouth.

“no, stand back up baby.” he instructs, and the commanding note in his voice makes you push yourself off your knees, extending to your full height.

matt turns you around so you’re facing the mirror, one hand on your side and the other on your back as he forces you to bend at the waist. your forearms press flat against the cool marble counter, and the assertiveness of it all sends a jolt of excitement right to your core.

his palm comes down on the curve of your ass without warning, just hard enough to sting. you let out a whimper, arching your back more as you gaze at him through the reflection.

he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, smoothing his hand over the place he just hit. his eyes are so dark, so full of desire that it just solidifies the way you feel about him.

“you like that? you want me to be rough?” matt leans over you, co*ck pressed against you as he speaks into your ear.

“please.” you whine, shifting your hips to try and feel more of him, to feel anything.

he stops your movements immediately and smacks your ass again, this time on the opposite side. it makes you groan in delight, almost involuntarily.

“you’re gonna look at yourself while i f*ck you, got it princess?” he says, backing up just a bit so he can take his dick into his own hand and pump a few times.

you nod as you feel him line himself up at your entrance, and you know that at this angle you’re perfectly on display for him.

he pushes himself inside of you in one fluid motion, and you gasp as his fingers squeeze your hip. matt doesn’t give you time to adjust to him like normal. instead he immediately starts to pick up speed, wrapping your hair in his free hand so you can’t look anywhere else besides in front of you.

your lips are parted as you moan, eyes fluttering at the stimulation. you can hear matt grunting behind you, a deliciously dirty sound.

“look at how pretty you are, taking me so well. all f*cking mine.” he marvels, rocking your body against him even harder.

skin slaps together, and his pace is making your legs tremble. you can feel the party raging on underneath you, and it’s strangely even hotter in this setting.

“sh*t, you fill me up so good matt.” you tell him, catching his eyes for a second before he throws his head back.

“f*ck.”

he’s hitting it so well, and you can feel yourself tightening around him with every stroke. it’s turning him into an even bigger mess.

“god, if you keep that up i’m not gonna last much longer.” he warns, bucking his hips into you at a slightly different angle.

you cry out at the new sensation, a guttural noise that you didn’t even know you could make.

“i’m so close, right there babe.”

matt listens perfectly, using the hand on your waist to guide you so that you bounce against his thighs in the same spot. you’re a whining mess, and you can’t keep looking in the mirror.

you feel the tears as your eyes screw shut. the fire in your stomach is growing, spreading throughout your whole body. he tugs your roots a little bit more.

“come all over my dick, pretty girl. it’s all yours.”

his words are what send you over the edge, and your body shudders as you feel yourself giving in to the high, releasing all over him.

“f*ck, matt, stay inside.” you pant, and he groans loudly.

two more sloppy strokes and you feel him tense, filling you up as he finishes. matt lets go of your hair, dragging his fingers along your shoulders, you back. you look so f*cked out, makeup smudged slightly under your eyes, and you both love it.

he pulls out slowly, giving you one last tiny pat on your ass.

you’ve both got stars in your eyes as you stand, and you can feel the wetness pool against your thighs. thank god you’re on birth control. this was a special occasion anyways.

you turn, and matt immediately pulls you in for a kiss. you smile slightly, because you can’t help it.

“come on, i need to get cleaned up.” you pull away slightly.

“fine.” he sighs, but he lets you go regardless.

you wipe yourself off with some toilet paper quickly and flush it while he redresses. you two have been missing for minute now.

you guess it doesn’t really matter. sure, you should probably be discrete about having sex around your friends. but you’re also together. officially.

“so, does this mean i can tell the other girls in your dms to f*ck off?” you joke as you put your underwear back on, shimmying into your jeans next.

“you can honestly tell them whatever you want.” matt runs a hand through his hair, smiling at you like a f*cking goofball.

you’re just situating your shirt into place when the door comes swinging open, revealing a very drunk nathan. you and matt freeze, completely unsure what to do.

his eyes go wide as he realizes what’s going on, mouth hanging open like he can’t believe it.

“woah. no f*cking way”

Perks of The City

Gale Dekarios x afab!Reader

A/N: this is based on an anon request I was sent asking for bathhouse NSFW with Gale! The actual request disappeared from my inbox but I wrote it anyways. So nanny, whoever you are, I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: NSFW 18+ ONLY! Smut, PiV sex, unprotected sex, creampie, reader is on top lol, kissing, some non sexual intimacy as well, bathing together, fluff.

While being in Baldur’s Gate and closer to the absolutes hopeful end is a daunting task, being back in the city does have its perks.

Soft warm beds at the Elfsong Tavern, food vendors instead of campfire cooking, and bathhouses.

You’d lived the life of an adventurer long enough to become accustom to washing away the days battles in rivers and random lakes. However, the thought of a warm, steaming, tub makes a shiver of anticipation run through you.

Gale mirrors your excitement, folding changes of clothes for the both of you before putting them away into a pack and hoisting it over his shoulder.

“I never though the prospect of something as simple as abath,would make me so excited. But when one’s been bathing in rivers for nigh over a month, well…”

“It sounds like heaven on earth?” You supply, taking his hand as you both exit the Elfsong to head towards you destination.

Gale turns and smiles at you. “Precisely.”

The trip to the bathhouse is short, since it’s so conveniently located near the tavern, and the moment you both are shown to the private bathing room you paid for, you almost melt into the floor.

The room is much smaller than the typical vastness of the communal part of the bathhouse, but you find you much prefer it this way. There’s a few benches along the wall across the room, you assume a place for you to set your things. And separating you from the other side of the room is the one thing you’ve been waiting all day for.

The bath.

It’s absolutelyhuge,taking up most of the room. It’s sunken into the stone floor, water filled high and curls of steam coming off the surface. The room is thick with moist air from the hot water and a subtle pleasant aroma tickles your nose.

Off to the right hand of the room you see a few shelves attached to the walls with towels, soaps of various scents, and even some small bottles of what you assume to be bath oils.

An appreciative groan escapes Gale as he takes in the scene and you can’t help but giggle as he immediately tugs at his clothes.

“Eager are we?” You ask, starting to pull at the ties of your own shirt.

Gale lets out a chuckle of his own. “While I may have fallen into the life of adventuring as of late, before the tadpoles I was ah…Let’s just say I’m not used to lacking the basic comforts usually afforded to me.”

You snort, tugging your shirt over your head before stepping in front of your lover, taking over in removing his outer robes.

“So you were spoiled, is what you’re saying?”

Gale lets out an affronted scoff, faux offense evident on his face. “Wha-spoiled?I would hardly call a fresh bath every now and thenspoiled,”he defends, dropping his arms as you push his clothing from his shoulders. “Most would call it basic hygiene, but I suppose to those used to living on the road it might be seen as waste of precious time.”

You roll your eyes at his banter and you both shed the last of your clothes before you turn to dip a foot into the steaming water.

“Well, time is no constraint here,” you say, turning once you’re fully submerged in the water to reach out to your partner. “I’ve rented it for the whole day.”

Gale follows you into the water, trying and failing to hide his satisfied moan as he sinks into the slightly scalding water.

“The whole day?” He says, sinking to his shoulders in the deep pool before reaching to take you into his arms. “And what on earth could we possibly do In the bathhouse to waste the day away?”

Your eyes sparkle with mischief, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek, your hands sliding up his chest slowly before resting on his shoulders as your lips trail down to just below his ear.

“I could think of plenty of things,” you whisper, tugging his earlobe between your teeth, his earring tinkling softly.

Gale lets out a strangled sound, his hands falling to your hips, giving them a firm squeeze. But you pull away before he can tug you closer, smiling wickedly at his betrayed gaze.

“But I’d like to bathe first,” you say, quirking a brow. “As long as that’s okay with you?”

Gale is not a foolish man. He can see the silent demand for what it is. A request that’s notreallya request. You’re asking, but you’re not. If he were to argue, the wizard knows you’d drag this out even longer, and he doesn’t know if he can stand your teasing today.

He smiles, barely hiding his impatience. “Of course, my love,” he says, reaching behind him to take one of the bars of soap from the shelf near the wall at the edge of the sunken tub. “Allow me?”

You grin and move closer to him in silent agreement, reaching over his shoulder for your own bar of soap as he moves his hands to your body.

The next long stretch of moments pass in comfortable silence, both of you taking the time to wash one another in silent reverence. His hands slide over your skin effortlessly, scrubbing when needed but otherwise gentle and non provocative, even when he touches more intimate parts of you.

In tandem, you take your time to let your own hands roam and clean. Hands sliding over his chest, fingers ghosting through the sparse hair there before moving up to his shoulders and then continuing their journey until you’re both cleaner than you’ve been in weeks.

Eventually, Gale takes your hand in his own, gentle urging you to face away from him. “Turn around,” he says gently before urging your head back and cupping his hands to bring water up to wet your hair.

His ministrations are both soft and firm at the same time. Gentle as his fingers card through your hair but just a little more firm as his nails scratch at your scalp. You can’t stop the moan that slips past your lips as he lathers your hair, and he leans down to press a kiss to your lips.

“You are so, utterly breathtaking,” he tells you, voice echoing softly in the small chamber as he moves to rinse your hair.

You peek one eye open, smiling up at him before rising up from the water and turning to face him fully once he’s rinsed all the suds from your hair. Water cascades down your neck and drips slowly down your face, droplets clinging to your lashes before you blink them away.

Gale is still gazing softly at you as you nudge him to sit on the shallow bench at the edge of the pool, bringing your hands up to tilt his head back ever so slightly.

“And you are breathtakingly handsome, my dear wizard,” you say, voice equally affectionate as you move to return the favor of washing his hair.

Gale hums in contentment as you move to sit on his lap, legs straddling his hips as you wet his hair and start to lather the soap into the sodden strands.

His eyes have fallen closed as you run your fingers through his hair, scrubbbung gently at his scalp before moving down the length of his brown locks.

You take this moment when he’s not watching to let your eyes wander. Starting at his strong brow before traveling down to where his lashes flutter against his cheek in silent content. You admire the way his lips part slightly, letting soft sighs escape as your nails scratch lightly at his scalp.

Your eyes travel lower still, watching as his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. Eventually, your gaze is called to the inky black lines embedded in his skin, tracing the mark down until it settles on the flaming orb on his chest. Your fingers still against his temples as you lean down to press a feather light kiss to the mark, smiling against his skin as his fingers dig into your hips.

“Hmm…don’t start something you don’t intend to finish, my love,” Gale says lowly, eyes still closed when you glance up at him.

You hum quietly in response, sitting up straight as you rinse his hair, moving to grind your hips into his firmly.

“Who says I don’t intend to finish?”

Gale's eyes snap open as you roll your hips into his own, fingers digging into your pliant flesh even deeper, sure to leave marks behind come the evening.

You can feel him grow hard against you, twitching eagerly against your inner thigh as you move against him. A sinful moan slips from his lips and you lean in to capture his lips with your own, swallowing his noises greedily.

Your hands grip his shoulders, nails digging into the skin there, uncaring of the crescent shaped divots left behind in your wake.

You only pull away from his lips so one hand can slip beneath the water to wrap around him, grinning devilishly when his hips thrust up into your hand desperately.

“Gods…”Gale whimpers, hands sliding up your waist to rest just below your breasts.

You let out a quiet ‘tsk’sound as you tease him, your thumb running over the head of him before moving to stroke him slowly.

“There’s no gods here,” you whisper huskily, leaning down to nip teasingly at that tender spot below his ear. “I want to hearmyname falling from your lips.”

The man beneath you does just that as you sink down onto him, your name falling from his lips in a drawn out groan as you take him to the hilt, your hips pressed against his own.

His name also fills the air in the form of muttered praises on your tongue, the press of him so deliciously satisfying, as he fills you so completely that no other thoughts run through your head other than pleasure.

You lean down to capture Gale's lips in a searing kiss as you slowly lift up before sinking down again, starting a steady but eager rhythm. You swallow the sounds that spill from his lips as you move against him, the water rippling gently around you both as your movements disturbed the surface.

Eager, shaking hands slide up your sides before one wraps around your waist, while the other glides up your spine to settle between your shoulder blades as Gale pulls you impossibly closer. His lips break away from you as your chest presses against his own, another sinful groan escaping him as he thrusts up into you.

“What have I done to deserve such worship?” He asks, words spilling breathlessly from him, as he looks up at you, eyes filled with wonder and lust beneath heavy lids. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes upon - and like a siren, you have captured my every sense -ah!”

You cut him off accidentally when you roll your hips, a sharp gasp of your own filling the air as he hits something devastating inside you.

That taut familiar coil pulls tighter as the man beneath you holds you in a vice grip, keeping you in place as he begins to grind his hips up into your own with firm thrusts.

His head falls forward then, silencing his moans as his lips press against your skin. He places sloppy kisses to the skin of your neck, tongue darting out to lap at your damp skin, the gentle action interrupted ever so often by blunt teeth nipping as the sensitive areas.

Another rough grind of your hips has you gasping, arousal humming in your veins as you approach the edge, your nails digging into his shoulders as you chase your pleasure, and hopefully his own.

“f*ck, Gale,I - I’m close,” you tell him, words coming out on a high pitched whisper as he drops his hands to your hips once more, fingers digging into the flesh there to guide your movements agaisn him, desperately.

He raises his head, lips brushing your cheek as he whispers, “Let go, let me feel you.”

His words are like a spark to dry kindling, igniting the already taught string and forcing it to snap as your org*sm washes over you. His name falls from your lips in a cry as your hips stutter against him, and he swallows your pleasure with his lips, drinking down your gasps and sighs as he finds his own end.

With a few final thrusts he buries himself inside you with his release, lips breaking from yours as a satisfied groan escapes him, his arms going lax around you as you slump in his hold.

The only sound in the room as you both come down from your highs are your quiet pants and the gentle rippling of the water as Gales hands start to move soothingly against you, tracing calming patterns against your skin.

You both exchange chaste, loving kisses until finally, your chest is no longer heaving for breath, you rest against him, nuzzling into the space between his head and shoulder, as your arms slip around his waist.

The water is still as hot as when you both entered, and you surmise it must be kept heated by some magical quality. Probably why it cost so much to rent the room for as long as you did.

Not that you’re complaining. If you could spend all day in a hot bath with your lover…You’redefinitelynot going to squabble over coin.

Gales hand ventures up your back before gently tugging at your hair, pulling the damp strands away from your face in order to place a kiss to the corner of your lips.

“I think we may have sullied our earlier bathing efforts,” he says, voice light and teasing, as his hand trails back down your spine.

You smile, and turn to capture his lips in a quick kiss. “Are you complaining? Because I can toss any further ideas I’ve been conjuring up.”

You pull away from him then in order to take in the way his brows quirk upwards in silent question as he shakes his head.

“Not a complaint,” he assures you. “Just an observation. However, now my mind isfarfrom the thought of cleanliness as i'm much more concerned with what other…ideasare running through that head of yours, and whether they're as devious as the stunt you just pulled.”

You chuckle at him, reaching up to cradle his face in your hands, fingers tracing the faint lines of his orb markings that trail just beneath his eye.

“If you think that was devious…” you click your tongue in mock disbelief. “I fear you may not know me at all, Gale.”

You emphasize your words as you grind your hips down into his own again, smiling at the strangled sound he tries to hold back, feeling him twitch eagerly from where he’s still nestled inside you.

You lean in, lips ghosting over his own as your hands slide back to tangle in his hair.

“I paid good money for this room. And I don’t plan to waste it.”

Gale smiles, mischief sparking in his eyes he moves swiftly. He’s standing before you can blink, spinning you around to place you on the edge of the tub, leaning forward until your back hits the chilled stone.

You shiver as his lips ghost over your jaw and down even further to press teasingly above your breasts.

“Neither do I.”

Your breath stutters, and you can’t help but smile.

Yes…the city mostdefinitelyhas its perks.

hii! omg so i rlly love your writing its incredible. i have two requests but you can choose whichever one! the first one is an imagine w steve and the reader based off of call it what you want by taylor. orr a hurt/comfort imagine where the reader is basically comforting steve maybe aft he’s had a fight w his parents or something? again i rlly love your writing literally look forward for new writeups all the time!

at least we did one thing right

a/n: this one has been sitting in my inbox since forever and i managed to stir up this cute little thing. ciwyw is one of my favorite tracks of reputation and i can't wait to get the re-recording of this (hopefully soon!!!)

The party was in full swing, and by party you meant all of your close friends who are gathered in Steve’s living room and kitchen entertaining themselves while you and Steve hid away in his backyard like a routine.

His gaze flickered through the sliding doors, mock concern etched on his features as he mutters under his breath, “I swear to god, they better not pick the pineapple off the other slices.”

You turned your head to see what he was going on about, and sure enough the teenage boys were ravaging the kitchen like they hadn’t eaten in days. At this rate, they were like bottomless pits, and you weren’t quite sure how they were able to put away a portion of food without blinking.

Still, you snorted, swatting a hand over his thigh and garnering his attention back to you.

“They’re growing boys and their appetites are different from when they were twelve. We can order another if they’re still hungry.” You shrugged.

He shook his head, shifting to pull your legs over and across his lap.

“I ordered pineapple for you, and you should at least get to have one slice of it.” Steve insisted, though your orbs were too clouded with heart eyes to see the irritation he wore for the innocently selfish boys.

You pursed your lips into a tight smile, hooking your arm over his bicep, tugging yourself closer to him, “You’re so cute for someone who hogs all the blankets at night.”

He looked down at you, shaking his head with a mushy smile coming over him, “Hey you’re the one who likes the house freezing!”

Steve rumbles a string of laughter into the air, using his free arm that’s not being clung onto, to drape over your frame, practically wrenching your whole body onto his as you begin joining in the amusem*nt. You give up on trying to get the upper-hand, letting yourself sit comfortably in his lap, your joined hands resting on either side of your bodies and you lean down to lay your head on his chest.

You snuggled deeper into the fabric of his shirt, inhaling the lingering scent of his cologne. It’s a simple pleasure of yours to be wrapped up in his arms, high above the whole scene, in your own little world like nothing else mattered.

“You’re my portable space heater, got all the warmth I need,” you declared, pressing kind kisses over his chest feeling his lips brush over your hairline.

Steve thought he must have done something right in this lifetime in order to give himself to you in a way he hadn’t given anyone else before. He doesn’t care that it’s simply you two sneaking away just to act like corny teenagers again. All of that fades into nothing when you look at him the way you do.

But before you could savor the moment, a familiar voice interrupted from above, followed by the squeak of rusty wheels gliding across the frame.

“Are you guys having fun out here without us!” Robin shouted, ringing out closer as she approached you both, but of course not without the presence of Eddie by her side.

You sat up, laughing, while Steve groaned and craned his neck to greet them. “You guys have to stop sneaking off to do whatever this is,” Eddie teased, gesturing between you both with a lighthearted smirk.

Steve grunted, “You’re just mad you don’t have a girlfriend to love on,” he shot back, pulling you down by the wrists to meet his lips in a messy kiss that left you giggling.

Eddie feigned revulsion and quickly retreated back inside, while Robin settled beside your bodies, her eyes twinkling with affection. “I still think you guys are adorable, even though this sneaking off thing is getting old.”

Robin had always been rooting for the two of you — there was just something about you both that made perfect sense, and when you finally bit the bullet, it was safe to say she was celebratory about the whole thing.

“We just don’t want to bore you guys with our public displays of affection,” you teased, sharing a knowing smile with Robin who threw her head back and laughed at all the times your friends would scold you both to cut out the lovey dovey acts.

Steve interjected, “Last time we cuddled on the couch you kicked us out of movie night…in my house!”

Robin rolled her eyes, pointing an accusing finger at him. “That’s because we could all smell the sexual tension between you guys. Seriously, just get it out of your systems before we get here.”

You slapped your hands over your flushed face, groaning behind them, “Noted. We’ll remember that for next time.” You promised, shaking your head.

Steve couldn’t contain his laughter, his eyes crinkling as he turned to his best friend with a pleading look. “Now, can you please leave and let me make out with my girlfriend in peace?”

She rose up out of the lounger with a grin, “If there’s one thing you guys did right, it’s each other… and I don’t mean sex!” With that she disappeared back inside, leaving you both to yourselves.

Steve gently pulled your hands away from your face, his soft smiling easing away any idling embarrassment that you knew was all in good fun. He brought your hands closer to his lips, spreading kisses across your knuckles that made your stomach flip with warmth.

“Well, at least did one thing right,” He murmured, raising his brows up at you as you blushed and nodded.

“We sure did.” You whispered, before cupping his cheeks and bringing yourself down to him.

Your eyes fluttered shut, closing the distance between your lips, fitting themselves together like a daydream. The jokers and the drama queens could take all the swings and call it whatever they wanted to — as long as you and Steve knew it was love.

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

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hi! would you please be able to write a fic of george picking us up from a drunken night out and looking after us? i think he’d be so lovely 🥰🥰

Drunken Adventures | George Clarke

Summary: Just boyfriend George taking care of his drunk girlfriendPairing: George Clarke x F!ReaderWarnings: FluffWord count: 2.8k+A/N: George is such boyfriend material and would just be such a caring boyfriend. The biggest simp in the world. tbh not my best work, but this request has been in my inbox for like a month now.Hope you enjoy!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

George lounged in the familiar living room of the Arthurs’ and Chris's apartment, unwinding after a long day of filming. It had been quite some time since he moved out to live with you, and with you out all night for your best friend Jenna’s hen do, he was not looking forward to the prospect of returning to an empty apartment. So, when the opportunity arose to spend some time and catch up with the boys, he was more than glad to seize it.

Midway through their conversation, George's phone begins buzzing on its spot on the coffee table. Glancing at the phone, he expects to see your name on the screen, assuming you would be calling to let him know you were on your way home. However, concern washes over him when he’s instead met with the caller ID of your friend Lily. Instantly springing up from the couch, he excuses himself to take the call.

George's fingers hurriedly tapped the screen as he accepted the call. "Hey, Lily. Is everything okay? What's the matter?" His tone carried a hint of urgency.

"George, it's me, Lily," came the slurred voice on the other end. George let out a soft huff, realizing just how intoxicated your friend was. Patiently, he asked again, "Yeah, hi Lily. Is Y/N with you? Is she alright?"

Amidst the muffled voices and the noise of people talking over each other, he patiently waits for Lily's response. Finally, her voice broke through the chaos. "Yeah, she's fine... mostly. But she's like absolutely sh*t-faced right now. She's insisting that she'll get back on her own, but none of us trust her to do that, so you better come and pick her up. I'll send you our location."

"Tell her to stay put, I'm on my way," George says as he walks toward the door. With his phone pressed between his shoulder and ear, he begins putting on his coat. Lily responded with a quick, "Okay, thanks," before abruptly ending the call.

With a brief goodbye to the boys and a quick explanation of where he was headed, George was out the door in a hurry, calling a cab on his way down to your location.

A quick cab ride later, he reaches the club where you were at. He steps out into the cold night air and almost instantly spots your small group gathered outside. You were seated on the pavement, legs criss crossed, your head leaning against a lamppost while you scrolled through your phone, laughing at whatever was playing on your screen. The faint glow illuminated your features in the dim light of the street.

George couldn't help but shake his head and laugh at the spectacle before him.

The bride-to-be was video calling someone, oblivious to the chaos around. Meanwhile, one of your friends was bent over a nearby bush, puking her guts out, while Lily stood holding her hair back. The rest of the girls, keeled over in drunken laughter.

George made his way over to where you were sitting, a smile playing on his lips as he crouched down next to you. "Hey there, troublemaker," he greeted softly, his voice carrying a hint of amusem*nt.

You look up from your phone at the sound of his voice and your face lights up with a goofy grin. "Georgey!" you exclaimed, without a moment's hesitation, you threw your arms around him in a tight hug, causing him to stumble back slightly. His hand lands on the pavement, steadying him, while the other instantly wraps around your back.

"Hey there, love. You feeling okay?” he says, his voice filled with laughter. You returned his gaze, a grin spreading across your lips. "Yeah, I'm great," you replied, your words slightly slurred. You reached out and gently grabbed his face with both hands, planting a kiss on his lips, catching him off guard.

"I missed you, you beautiful man." you continued, George chuckled softly, thoroughly amused by your actions. "How much have you had to drink?" he asked, his tone gentle and caring.

"Not that much, I feel fine," you insisted, trying to sound serious but failing as a smile inevitably crept back onto your face, causing you both to laugh.

"Alright then, let's get you up first," George says, gently brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen out of place before tucking it behind your ear. He then slowly gets you up to your feet, fixing your dress after it had ridden up while you were sitting down.

"Now, let's get you home," he says while you eye him with a small pout. Once you're up on your feet, you lean into his side, wrapping your arms around his waist and tucking yourself under his arm. His arm naturally settles on your shoulder, providing support to keep you steady.

As George reached for his phone and opened up the Uber app, you swiftly snatched it away, declaring, "But I'm having fun! I don’t want to go home yet!" In your haste, however, you accidentally dropped his phone, which landed squarely on his right foot.

"Ouch. Careful there, love, you nearly decapitated me," George joked, his laughter ringing out in the night air. You rolled your eyes at his dramatics, unable to suppress your own laugh. As he bent down to pick up his phone, you playfully attempted to hold him back by his waist. However, your drunken attempt at holding him back proved worthless, causing you to stumble back as your arms detached from his waist. But, before your bum could hit the pavement, George was quick to grab onto your waist and keep you from landing on the ground.

"Okay, that's a sign, you're done for the night, Y/N," he says, gently getting you back on your feet. Once you're standing, you turn around to face him, his arms still securely wrapped around your waist to prevent another potential stumble.

You shake your head stubbornly, determination shining in your eyes. "No, I don’t wanna go back home just yet," you insist firmly, your conviction clear. "The entire city is ours, George. We can't miss out on this adventure," you explain, pointing towards the street. "Each street, each building, they all have stories to tell. And tonight, we get to be a part of those stories."

George smiles at your intoxicated ramblings, gently teasing, "What are you going on about?" His laughter follows. that contagious sound that you love so much, accompanied by the crinkle in his eyes.

As you continue trying to convince him, George can't help but think how absolutely adorable you are, even in your drunken state. And despite his initial resistance, he finds himself giving in to your whims.

"Fine," he finally gives in with a sigh, a soft smile playing on his lips. "I can never say no to you, can I?” he admits.

You smile at him as you raise up on your tiptoes and give him a peck on the cheek "Exactly, now off we go Georgey!" With that, you grab his hand and pull him away from the club.

Turning back to your friends, you shout a goodbye, waving enthusiastically. George shoots them a quick farewell before turning his attention back to you. "You sure it’s a good idea to leave them to fend for themselves?" he quips, laughing as he gestures towards your just as wasted friends.

You laugh and shrug, "Eh, they'll be fine,” you reassure him, "Jenna’s brother is coming to pick them up, they're crashing at her place," you explain as you start walking down the street together.

George raises an eyebrow as he asks, "Do you know where you’re going?"

"We’ll figure it out, the night is still young," you reply, sounding carefree.

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. "You're so full of sh*t," he remarks, and you roll your eyes, playfully swatting at his chest while he continues to laugh at you.

As you continue walking, you stagger a bit despite his support, catching George's attention. "Let's get you some water first," he suggests, concern coloring his voice. You pout in protest, but he remains adamant, guiding you to the nearest corner shop. He has you sit down, and makes you chug some water to help sober you up a little.

You two navigate the city streets just past midnight, the Friday night nightlife around you is full of energy. The neon glow of club signs casts shadows on the streets as the late-night crowds stumble out onto the streets. "Hey! Oh my god I love your dress! You have to tell me where you got it," you exclaim as you strike up conversations with random people on the streets as if you've known them for years, becoming extra extroverted when you are even slightly drunk.

George stays glued to your side the whole time, equally as amused and anxious, just wanting to make sure you’re safe and don’t hurt yourself, his protective side kicking in.

"Woah there, do you wanna sit down for a bit?" he interjects as you stumble slightly, tripping over your own two feet. His hand reaches out to steady you, but you brush it off with a dismissive wave. "No, I’m fine," you insist. Throughout the night, you two continue to dance under the glow of street lamps, sharing laughter over each other's absolutely terrible jokes, almost falling from laughter multiple times.

As you’re practically rolling on the sidewalk laughing, you hear the click of his camera, and you immediately sit up, "Hey! What are you doing?" you protest, but your laughter betrays the mock seriousness in your voice. George just grins mischievously, snapping a few more photos, definitely exploiting your drunken state for blackmail material later.

He takes a moment to look at the photo he had just taken of you, a grin spreading across his face as he laughs. "You're laughing way more than you should at that. Show me!" you demand reaching out to grab his phone, but he pulls it away, hiding the screen against his chest.

"Come on, baby!" you plead, giving him your best puppy dog eyes, and he can’t help but melt, quickly flashing his phone at you, revealing the photo. Your mouth falls open in disbelief, but you burst into laughter at the sight of yourself. Still giggling, you make another attempt to snatch his phone from him, playfully demanding, "Give me that! Get those photos off your phone, George!" But his height advantage keeps the phone just out of your reach, and you make a feeble attempt at jumping to get it back.

Your attention however suddenly shifts from your antics when you spot a lime bike stand out of the corner of your eye. You instantly forget about what you were just doing and run up closer to it, leaving George momentarily confused before he follows your lead. “George,” you exclaim eagerly, turning back to face him with excitement. “Lime bikes! We should totally ride bikes!”

“Great idea when drunk, huh?” You continue, trying to take the piss out of him. You shoot him a mischievous grin. “Bet I can actually manage to stay on one though,” you tease, throwing him a wink.

George rubs his face with his hands as he laughs, “Haha, very funny… absolutely not,” he replies with a playful shake of his head. “I think you’d actually kill me if something were to happen and you end up in the A&E. Not how I wanna spend my Friday night, love,” he quips, sharing a knowing smile with you. He then joins you and gently turns you around, pushing you in the opposite direction, away from the bike stand.

"Boo, party pooper, you're no fun," you jokingly accuse him, a slight pout on your face as you tease him for being a buzzkill.

"Who else is gonna keep you from making horrible decisions?" George quips, nudging you slightly as he can’t help but laugh as he says it. You roll your eyes at his playful jab, but a smile tugs at the corners of your lips. He brushes it off, intertwining your fingers with his, enjoying the warmth of his hand as you both start walking hand in hand.

As you walk, George notices you getting tired, your steps becoming a little slower and your conversation gradually quieting down. He looks down at you with a caring expression as he notices a small yawn escape your lips. "How about we get you home soon?" he suggests softly, his voice filled with concern.

But you shake your head, looking up at him with a soft smile on your lips. "Not yet," you insist, tugging him along until you arrive at a nearby park.

As you stroll through the park, the stillness of the night surrounds you, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves and distant noises of the city. You two find a nearby bench and take a seat, kicking off your heels and swinging your legs over his lap. The cool night air kisses your cheeks, and you shiver, prompting George to take off his jacket and drape it over your exposed legs. You glance at him and mumble a small "Thank you, baby" before continuing to rub your hands together to warm them up. George instinctively wraps his arms around you, pulling you close and rubbing his arms against your shoulders in an attempt to warm you up. You lean into his warmth as you snuggle up close to him, gazing out at the twinkling skyline.

You sit in silence for a moment, feeling the weight of the night settling over you. You start to feel drowsy, comfortable and warm in George’s arms, and you let out a soft yawn, catching his attention. He watches you with affection in his eyes, taking in the sight of you under the moonlight. Your hair glows softly in the gentle moonlight, framing your face and he thinks it makes you look absolutely angelic.

As you snuggle in closer to him, you feel your eyelids growing heavier. George softly brushes the hair out of your face with a gentle touch. He whispers softly to you, his voice barely above a murmur, softly nudging you awake. "Can I take you home now?" he asks. You nod in response, finally agreeing to call it a night.

Once you're back at your shared apartment, you stumble in, shedding your heels and tossing your jacket haphazardly in the living room before making a beeline for the bedroom. George follows closely behind, gently nudging you in the direction of the bathroom. "Hold on there, love," he says with a chuckle. "You very well know you'll be absolutely pissed at me in the morning for letting you go to bed with makeup on."

You nod as you enter the ensuite, hopping up onto the counter and facing George as he comes to stand between your legs, his palm resting on your thigh. You point to the drawer, and he retrieves the packet of makeup wipes, pulling one out to gently start wiping your face.

The whole time, your eyes remain fixed on him, a loving and dreamy look in them. Once he's finished removing your makeup, he tosses the used wipe into the bin and chuckles, eyeing you with a curious look, “What?”

"Nothing," you begin softly, your hands reaching up to rest on his shoulders. "I just... I feel so lucky." Your voice is quiet but earnest as you gaze into his deep blue eyes, a soft smile gracing your lips. "Thank you for taking care of me tonight. You didn’t have to, you know. I know how much you were looking forward to hanging out with the boys."

George’s hands begin to softly rub the exposed flesh on the side of your thighs as he looks at you with just as much affection, placing a featherlight kiss on your forehead. “It’s fine…I was with them all morning," he begins, “But for you, I’ll always be there, whether you like it or not."

You smile up at him, your laughter bubbling over. "You're such a sap," you tease, but there's genuine affection in your tone.

He smiles down at you, his eyes warm. "I mean it, though," he insists. "There's never a dull moment with you, drunk or sober."

Then, he leans in, closing the distance between you, and places a tender kiss on your lips. As you pull away, you look into his eyes and whisper, "I love you."

"I love you too, you drunken mess," he replies, his voice filled with adoration.

With a gentle smile, he wraps his arm around your waist and effortlessly lifts you up, setting you down on the ground before placing a kiss on your temple. You quickly change into more comfortable clothes, and together you head to bed, snuggling into each other's warmth as he wraps his arms around you, finally putting an end to your late-night adventures.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Requests are open...or just drop in for a chat! 😊

Lights - Richie x Reader

I know, I know, I wrote this in August. But tis the festive season now, so it deserves a reblog. Look I've made it fancy with lights and everything!

A lovely anon requested protective Richie sharing his jacket and giving Reader a ride home. Anon, I hope you like it!

Tried to go a bit softer with this one, which turns out to be much more difficult than writing Total Filth™.

Rating: E, 18+ only please

Word count: 4k

Warnings: Oral (F receiving), unprotected PIV sex (you know the drill by now, wrap it up), squirting

Reader is female but no physical descriptions other than she's shorter than Richie.

If you like it, let me know. I love reading and replying to your comments and messages. Inbox is always open and anons welcome <3

f*ck. What a night. You are waiting outside for Richie while he locks up the restaurant. It is freezing and you kick yourself for leaving your coat in your friend’s car that morning. You could have already headed home, but earlier that evening Richie had saved you from an irate diner. A man who had clearly had enough wine already and who had got in your face when your hand had slipped refilling his glass spilling some of the liquid onto the table.

The man had called you an idiot, jabbed his finger in your chest, and you had felt the blood roaring in your ears, when Richie had put his body between you and the diner. Richie had had told him to sit down, that his behaviour was unwelcome in the restaurant. Every other table had stopped and stared. The diner had looked embarrassed and you had felt a little better. You want to say thank you.

“Here.” A suit jacket is draped over your shoulders from behind. Richie has just taken it off and the residual warmth of his body calms the goosebumps that had spread down your arms. You allow yourself to enjoy the heat for just a moment, before you protest.

“Hey, no.” You try to slide the jacket off, “I’m alright, not got far to go.”

Richie puts his hands on your shoulders, “A, I saw you out here shivering,” he tucks the lapel of the jacket around your neck, “and B, I know you gotta take the L.”

You roll your eyes, but he’s not wrong. You pull the jacket around your body and smooth your fingers across the silky lining.

“Y’alright?”

“Oh yeah, I’m fine. I’m so sorry about spilling that drink..”

“f*ck. Don’t be. Guy didn’t need to be such a huge asshole about it.”

“Thanks for saving me.” You give Richie a wink and he smiles.

“At your service,” he does a mock little bow and you laugh, “he’s lucky, not long ago I woulda dropped him.” He pauses and looks at you, “You want a ride home? Save you freezin your ass off.”

“You drove here? I thought your license had expired?”

“Uhh may I remind you,” he presses a hand to his chest as though wounded by the suggestion that he has been driving with an expired license, although you know for a fact he has, “that I am a very responsible driver, and I got it renewed.”

A ride home with Richie. You swallow, will your voice to sound normal when you answer. “Ummm yeah. Yes please, only if that’s alright I mean.” You stumble over your words and internally chide yourself for being so silly.

..

The jacket smells of his cologne and something warmer and human. This is what he would smell like if you were to tuck your head into the crook of his neck. You rub your eyes in an effort not to think about that. In its place your mind supplies a memory that is only a few weeks old, one you had thought about every day since; Marcus had made donuts. Yours had been so delicious that you were a little giddy eating it. You’d paid no attention to Richie, until he had reached out and used his thumb to sweep a smudge of frosting from just beneath your lower lip. He had licked the frosting from his thumb as though it were the most normal thing in the world. You had been rooted to the spot. And since then there had been a dozen little touches like that and you had found more and more excuses to spend time with him. Every shift together had felt a little closer to something inevitable, and now this; a ride home.

“f*ckin piece of sh*t!”

You are brought back to reality. “Sorry,” Richie looks across at you sheepishly, “usually just need to wiggle it.” He gives the transmission a shake that is more assault than wiggle and the engine kicks into gear. He blows out a breath that you think is relief and pulls the car round into the street.

You give him directions and he drives with the easy confidence of someone who has navigated the same streets all his life. The heat blasting from the fans is making you feel a little sleepy. It’s late, and the roads are quiet. Some of the businesses and homes you pass are already decorated for the holidays.

You wipe your fingers through the condensation on your window, “I think this is the best bit of Christmas. I don’t really like the rest, but the lights are pretty.”

Richie glances across at you, “You don’t like the holidays?”

“It’s half the reason I work in hospitality,” you look out the window at the blurry displays, “fewer days off to fill. How about you?”

“Well, I like seeing my daughter, she gets so excited, y’know.” He scrubs a hand over his face, “But yeah the rest can be hard.”

sh*t. Of course it’s hard. Why the f*ck did you bring it up. You think about squeezing Richie’s hand where it has returned to rest on the transmission, even start to reach your own hand out, but he clears his throat and you pull back.

“This nearly you?”

Sure enough, you are one block away. You point out your building and Richie brings the car to a stop outside.

“Coffee?”

“Huh?” He’s fiddling with the angle of the heaters.

“Do you want to come up for a coffee,” you hope you don’t sound as nervous as you feel, “say thank you for the ride?”

His hands still. The seconds drag out as you wait for an answer. It’s been too long, you guess he’s trying to think of an excuse. He looks at you, then looks out the windshield.

“Maybe some other time, yeah?”

Oh. Great excuse. “Yeah course.” You feel stupid. “Sorry.”

“I didn’t mean..” He looks pained.

“Thanks for the ride,” you cut him off and shrug the jacket off your shoulders, “and the jacket. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You don’t wait for him to reply before you dash up the steps to your building.

...

Richie watches you go, fighting the urge to call you back, if only to say that yes, he’ll see you tomorrow, or that he doesn’t want to f*ck things up, or that he would love a coffee. sh*t. Why didn’t he just say yes. He had really wanted to say yes. He rests his head against the steering wheel for a moment and his eyes land on his jacket on the passenger seat. He pulls it on, it still feels warm, and there is a hint of what he imagines is the laundry detergent you use. He pulls a cigarette from the pack he keeps in the car, lights it, then turns the key in the ignition.

Nothing. He tries again. The engine sputters and turns over once. Again. Nothing. Nothing. Jesus f*cking Christ. He rubs the heel of his hand across his brow to ward off the feeling that no amount of wiggling the transmission is going to get him out of this. He climbs out of the car and lifts the hood, more because it feels like the thing to do, rather than him having any actual chance of being able to fix it. As he stares at the engine, he realises that the cigarette between his fingers is probably a bad idea and he flicks it away onto the sidewalk.

sh*t. He checks the time. Close to midnight. He is not going to get a tow at this time, at least not one he can afford, and he winces at the cost of an Uber. Still needs f*cking must. He pulls out his phone to open the app, thirty minute wait for a driver. f*ck. He requests the ride anyway, closes the hood, and takes another cigarette from the pack. His fingers shake a little as he lights it. sh*t. It really is cold. He looks up at your building as he leans against his car, he could swear there are lights in a window that was dark before, and he imagines for a moment that it’s your apartment, and imagines that he is warm inside with you.

He’s still in that daydream of hot coffee, maybe getting to sit next to you on your couch, when he realises the door to your building has opened.

“Are you going to come up, or what?”

...

When you had left him, you had raced up the stairs to your apartment, the adrenaline of feeling like a total fool spurring you on. Once inside your apartment you had stood for a moment with your forehead pressed to the back of your front door. Why had you asked him up anyway? For coffee? Really? Clearly you had misread the signals. f*ck coffee. You were going to fix something stronger. Flicking on the lights to make your way to the kitchen, you had heard the splutter of an engine from the street below and you had snuck up to the window to peek out.

You’d watched Richie for a little while, seen him stare at the engine, flick through his phone, light another cigarette. He looked utterly dejected. Then he had looked right at your window, and you imagined you had seen something like longing, something that made your heart beat against your ribs, and you had raced back down the stairs.

...

Richie sits on your couch, he flicks through a magazine, but can’t focus on it. Then he feels the vibration of a notification from his phone.

“Ah sh*t.” He rests his head in his hands.

“Everything okay?” You’re in the kitchen brewing the promised coffee, all nerves now he’s actually here in your home.

“Goddamn Uber’s cancelled. I could really do without this sh*t.”

You put the creamer away and walk through to Richie and set the coffees on the low table in front of the couch.

“Just a thought,” you sit next to him, smooth your hands over your knees, “I have a friend who’s good with cars, I could ask him to call by first thing..”

“Yeah? That would be great..” he’s still looking at his phone, trying to find another Uber.

“And you could stay here.” sh*t. Had you really just said that?

He snaps his head round to look at you, like he’s not sure what he heard, “I could..”

You meet his eyes, double down on whatever it was you had just done, “You could stay here.”

Your words hang in the air and you hold your breath in preparation for the rejection that you are sure is to come.

“Yeah, okay.” Richie is not about to make the same mistake twice in one evening.

“Okay?” You can’t keep the disbelief out of your voice.

“I’ll take the couch, then I’ll be here to sort the car out in the morning.” It’s a flimsy excuse, but he doesn’t want to leave.

“Exactly.” You can’t stop the broad smile that breaks across your face, you gesture to the coffees, “seeing as you’re staying, you want something stronger?”

“f*ck yes.”

...

Your first beers sit drained on the coffee table, you had talked about the asshole customer, how lucky he’d been not to get his ass kicked. Made small talk about the idiosyncrasies of Richie’s car and what it might take to get it going again. Now you’re both quiet and the air feels heavy.

“Why’d you say no?” you pick up the empty bottles with the intent of replacing them.

Richie rubs a hand over the back of his neck, but doesn’t answer.

“When I asked you up for coffee, why’d you say no?” You’re not going to let him dodge it.

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, “A lot has changed the last few months, I’ll grant you. I’m doin better, doing good even, but I’m still the same guy..”

“So you can’t have coffee?”

He takes another breath, looks across at you, at the beers, at your knee where it is pressed against his own, “It’s never just coffee, and I’m not good enough for you.”

You stand up to head to the kitchen, but you pause behind the couch to stroke your fingers through his hair, “So why all the flirting?”

“Couldn’t help it.” He tilts his head back to look at you, you think the line of his throat is pretty, you want to bend down and kiss him, and you think he wants that too, but instead you turn into the kitchen.

...

When you return, you have two new beers in one hand and a string of Christmas lights tucked under your arm.

“I figured you could be useful,” you hand Richie the lights, “I wanted to put these around the window, but I can’t reach.”

“You got a ladder?”

You shake your head, and Richie pulls a chair up to the window.

“Now I see why you lured me up here.” He climbs onto the chair.

“I thought they could hook over the top of the blind..”

“Yeah I got it,” Richie reaches out with the lights in one hand and the chair wobbles ominously, “Jesus f*ckin Christ!”

You stifle a laugh, and he looks down at you with feigned annoyance.

“Could you quit laughing for a minute and maybe hold onto the goddamn chair?”

“Sorry.” You step closer and grasp the back of the seat.

He mutters under his breath, “f*ckin woman’s tryin to kill me.”

You laugh again and this time he joins you.

It takes a few goes to get the lights arranged to your liking, but when they are finally right you plug them in and they spring to life, illuminating the window with a warm glow. Richie comes to stand behind you where you are admiring his handiwork. He’s so close you can feel the warmth of his chest at your back.

“I did a good job, huh?”

“Yeah, they’re beautiful. Thank you.” You turn to face him, and the lights are reflected in his blue eyes. “Y’know,” your voice is quiet, “I think I get to decide who’s good enough for me.”

“And?” his arms sneak around your waist.

You reach up and cup his cheek in your hand, “You’ll do.”

Everything seems to stand still for a moment, save for your heart which is hammering in your chest. Then he tugs you a little closer and you press up onto your toes, closing the last distance between you as you kiss him.

It is somehow both everything and nothing that you had expected. Soft and gentle and syrupy slow. His tongue sweeps across your lower lip, and you part your mouth, tilting your head, sliding your tongue against his, a little deeper and more insistent now. And oh god, that’s good. You push your fingertips through the hair at the nape of his neck, and you feel the breath catch in his throat, so you do it again, this time letting your fingers press into the muscle of his neck, and he groans against your mouth. His hands push up under the hem of your shirt, smoothing over the soft skin of your stomach and up your ribs where he can feel your quick, short breaths.

You pull back a little to catch your breath and when you find his gaze, his eyes are blown wide.

“Richie, I think we have a problem.” You see him struggle to regain some composure, his hands fall still where they had been squeezing at your sides.

“S’okay, look, I can go..”

You shake your head, press a kiss just beneath his ear, “It’s just,” you speak softly against his skin, “I don’t think you’re going to fit on the couch.”

...

You’d led him to your bedroom then, sat him on the edge of the bed where he’d watched you with dark eyes as you pulled your shirt over your head and shimmied out of your trousers. You had reached around to the clasp of your bra and he had licked his lips and exhaled a shaky breath as you let it fall to the floor. He had pulled you into his lap then, pressing open mouthed kisses to any skin he could reach whilst your fingers worked down the buttons of his shirt one-by-one, until frustration got the better of you and you tugged the shirt only half undone up and off. Finally.

You had admired the long, lean planes of his body, feeling the muscles of his stomach jump under your touch, until a blush had crept high on his cheeks. Then you had climbed off his lap and up onto the bed, and he had eagerly followed you.

And now, his mouth is leaving a trail of kisses down your body as his hand slides up your inner thigh. When he reaches your underwear he strokes his fingers across the damp cotton between your legs and your hips buck up, desperate for more contact. He looks up at you from where his mouth has been sucking over the soft skin of your belly, swipes his tongue across his teeth,

“Can I take these off?”

You nod, and lift your hips so he can pull your underwear down your legs.

“So f*ckin pretty.” His mouth continues its lazy trail down your stomach, while his fingers resume their slide against the slick folds of your puss*, working slow circles over your cl*t.

“f*ck, Richie, please” you’re not sure what it is you’re asking for, but he hums against the silken skin in the crease of your thigh. His movements are both maddeningly slow and achingly delicious, you can feel his breath now ghosting over your c*nt, oh f*ck, yes, and when his tongue finally curls against your cl*t, you’re wound so tight that you whine. He tastes you again with a broad lick, the flat of his tongue is warm and wet and feels so, so good. You push your fingers through his hair, and he pulls your thighs over his shoulders, wrapping his arms around them so that his hands rest over your lower belly, holding you in place.

He goes to it with more purpose now, finds a sensitive spot that makes you twitch and whimper, and sucks his mouth over it, tongue curling back and forth without pause until your puss* is clenching against nothing.

“Oh god, I need your fingers, Richie.”

He groans against you, drags his hand down from where it had been firm against your stomach, and pushes two fingers into your c*nt until you can feel his knuckles press against you. Holy f*ck. You think your eyes roll back in your head. It’s so f*cking good. Each curling thrust of his fingers is punctuated by the roll of his tongue over your cl*t, and you are so close now.

You look down and see that he is watching you, pretty blue eyes glazed with desire, and that is so f*cking hot that the next push of his fingers, the next press of his tongue, has you falling apart. f*ck. f*ck. f*ck. He feels it and groans, keeps his mouth on you as your thighs shake and your hips buck under his hand.

“Jesus Christ, you’re so f*ckin perfect” Richie pushes up to kiss you, sinks his hips into the cradle of your spread legs. You can feel how hard he is beneath the cotton of his boxers, and you reach down to push them over his hips, so that on the next roll of his hips against yours, his hard co*ck slides against the slickness of your puss* and you feel him suck in breath.

“S’okay?” His eyes meet yours.

You pull him down to you, brush your lips to his, “Please.” Your voice is a whisper that sends a shiver down his spine. He thrusts again, and you feel his co*ck notch against your entrance and then push inside. He settles into you, he feels solid, his skin hot, narrow hips slotted perfectly against you. One of his arms brackets your head, his other hand is at your neck, thumb stroking over the ridge of your jaw, palm pressed against your racing pulse. You feel surrounded and wanted and blindsided by the unexpected tenderness of it all.

“You feel like f*ckin heaven.” His voice is at your ear, and Jesus Christ, it’s like electricity in your veins. Richie doesn’t miss your reaction, the way your eyes close and the way your teeth drag across your bottom lip. So he tries it again, a deep grinding thrust, murmurs in your ear how beautiful you are, and he feels you clench around him. He grinds into you again and again then, driven on by the tight press of your hands into the muscles of his ass, swallowing down your whimpers and moans when you pull his mouth to yours.

Oh god, each stroke of his co*ck pushes against something deep inside, and you tilt your hips up to chase the sensation. The angle makes you cry out. All hot, slick pressure threatening to overflow.

“That it, sweetheart?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, but drops his hand to push your thigh back, holds you there so that each snug roll of his hips hits that spot that makes you squeeze around him. He thinks you’re close, knows that he is. Your head is thrown back against the pillows, throat exposed to him, and he mouths at the place beneath your jaw where your pulse is jumping just under the skin. Tells you how good you are, how he’s so hard, how you’re going to make him come. And f*ck, f*ck, f*ck, you can’t hold back any longer. It feels like, it feels like..

“Oh f*ck, oh f*ck, I’m gonna oh oh..” The pressure crests and bursts. Richie feels it, hot and so wet, the tight squeeze on his co*ck, the dripping of your arousal from your soaked c*nt. sh*t had he just made you.. the idea that he had is enough to push him over the edge after you, instinct making him drive hard into you one last time so he can come deep, deep inside.

...

You creep back into bed where Richie is already sleeping. As if he senses your nearness, he shifts towards you as you settle under the quilt, one arm wrapping around you and holding you close. You feel warm and safe and your eyelids are heavy. Tomorrow, you’ll think about what this means, how all of it had felt so much like a commitment to something, how much you wanted it to be a commitment to something. But for now this is good.

...

In the morning you watch from the window as Richie chats to your car-savvy friend, he looks happy so you assume that whatever the problem is can be fixed. Sure enough, by the time you’ve finished your coffee, the engine is going again and you see Richie shake his hand. He looks up at the window and sees you, then he pulls out his phone.

A second later your phone rings:

“Your friend says to keep the engine running, so I gotta head off. But uhhh thank you, for well, y’know.. I’ll see you later at work.”

“Okay, Richie. Drive safe.”

He hangs up, but waves at you as he gets behind the wheel.

You blow him a kiss out the window and you could swear he blushes.

..

You arrive at the restaurant late that afternoon for your shift to find it strung with twinkling lights inside and out. It’s so beautiful that your breath catches in your throat. You stand on the sidewalk staring at it for a long time, when the warmth of a familiar jacket envelops your shoulders.

“You like it?”

“Yeah, Richie, I love it.”

Part 2 here:

The String That Binds Us. (Prologue) | ln4, cl16

You fell in love with this sport all because of him. It would be selfish not to thank that boy for his help in getting you here today, even if you both ended on rocky terms. However, after finding yourself in the same paddock as your childhood best friend, your mentor, your first true love, and the boy who left you for the bigger picture, you realize that he wants nothing to do with you. So, as fate has it, perhaps you'll end up in the arms of someone else. Or maybe, just maybe, that string that has been tied to the two of you together since birth will pull you back into eachothers lives.Warnings: nonePairings: Lando Norris x Reader, Charles Leclerc x ReaderWord Count: 769Poetry style | Story styleA/n: I have returned with yet another series >:) this has been rolling around in my mind and yes its a super simple, done before, run down prompt but I promise to make it worth wild! I feel as though my writing has improved since my last series(which i'm gonna go rewrite) so please enjoy! Ill update as quickly as possible. This is just the prologue so look out for chapter 1 soon, and let me know if you all would be interested in me posting this on Wattpad for easier reading! Much love!Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

prologue;y/n.

There was simply no way, not in this world with all of its coincidences and twists of fate, that things did not happen for a reason. From the minute you’re born until the day you die, there is a reason for everything. An invisible string runs through each and every one of your actions, no matter how little or grand they may be. You were sure of it. There were so many instances you could think of. When you failed that math test and got put back into a different class-the one where you met your first boyfriend who you no longer speak of. When you visited the beach one Summer all the way across the ocean in the United States, and met a girl from your hometown who ended up becoming your life long friend you attended university with. And perhaps the most vital one, when you grew up next door to a boy, only a year older than you, who possessed a love for cars and all things involving them. He would sculpt your life into one of his own, beginning from only the age of three. The two of you would form a shared love, a shared passion, for one sport. However, you found more interest in the mechanical side of things while he preferred to take the wheel. Still, you often wonder how your life would have played out, what you would have done, where you would have gone, who you would have become without him. What would have happened to you if he didn’t live next door? You could never even picture it. Especially now, fresh from university with a degree in automotive engineering hanging on your wall. But the craziest connection of them all? Getting an offer to work in the same sport as your neighbor-no, your childhood best friend. You just couldn’t believe it.

“Y/n you’re joking.” Sophia said on the afternoon the offer popped up in your inbox. She sat on the beanbag chair you used to have in your dorm. You were laying down in bed, lazily scrolling through Twitter before deciding to check your inbox. Now, you were sitting up straight, hand cupping your mouth as you read the email. “Let me see!”

You spun the laptop around, watching her eyes dart across the screen. “It’s not real, there is no way.”

But it was. The email would turn into a phone call, the phone call would turn into a headquarters visit, the visit would turn into a contract. Soon, only a few months after your January graduation, you would be in the Formula 1 paddock, clad in red, tending to the Ferrari livery.

You called Lando only a few weeks before the season started. The two of you hadn’t spoken in a while.

“Hello?”

“Lando, hey.” You scratched the back of your neck. How would he take it? Would he even care at all? Why were you calling with how things ended between the two of you?

There was a second of silence, although it felt like minutes. “Y/n, it’s been a minute. I heard you graduated. Congrats.”

“Oh? Who told you?”

“Mom. You know she's still best friends with yours.”

“Right,” You sighed. He didn’t like your Instagram post that compiled all your grad-photos. Of course he’d only heard it involuntarily. “How have you been?”

“Good.” He responded. “Just preparing for the season, you know?”

“That's actually what I was calling about,” Your heart was pounding. You were so excited to tell him, to let him know that not only did he make it into his dream field, but so did you. “I got a job.”

“Cool. Where at?”

“Ferrari.”

The silence that hung over the line only a little while ago returned. “Like at a shop somewhere in the UK?”

Not exactly the celebration you were hoping for. “No, uh, in F1. I’ll be in the paddock working on either Leclerc’s or Sainz’s car.”

“Oh.” He sniffled. “How’d you manage a job like that straight out of uni?”

“I applied. Didn’t think I would get it but here we are.”

“Well I guess I’ll see you around then.”

And that was it, your big call, your big announcement, all concluded with a ‘see you around’ like it was a conversation to be had in a school yard. You were hurt, your childhood best friend chalking your achievements up to something not worth being impressed about, but you didn’t have time to think about it. You had a job to do and damnit, you were sure you’d be doing it the best.