#if you want to rly feel your heart squeeze painfully you can watch full screen

[inchidentally]

whole lot of mirroring between vibrating out of his skin race winner Lando and quiet proud teammate Oscar who has this soft, pleased smile the whole time he watches Lando as he speaks

[soulwillower]

mustang • richie tozier

( richie tozier x reader smut)

requested: road head with richie?? his car in it chapter 2 is ... so hot    +   can we get an aged up richie tozier smut pleaseee???   +    Hii, could you do one about Richie and the reader seeing each other at the restaurant in chapter 2, both single ;), and just like old emotions coming back and the other losers banter.

warnings: swearing, smut, oral (male receiving), ROAD HEAD!!!!, teensy bit of praise, some dirty talk, flirting, i think thats rly it, i had NO IDEA what to title this lol, this progresses kinda quickly once it gets goin lol also unedited

im not too sure about how this turned out :// i may go back and edit some things

[takes place during it chapter 2]

2k words

♡

this is fucking insane.

that's all that's screaming in your mind and most of what you can say as you talk to mike, eddie, and bill in the back room of the jade orient, catching up with awkward small talk as faded childhood memories bubble painfully to the surface.

a gong crash makes you jump- and even before you turn around, you hear a voice. "y/n fucking y/l/n? no way." the voice says, and you can't help the grin as you whirl around to greet the man you just remembered ten minutes ago.

richie tozier, in all his glory - now, in your defense, you did kinda remember him from his special on netflix. he’d been crass and rude and funny in a way that had made you roll your eyes and at the time, you’d felt a strangely familiar sensation when he’d mentioned his nickname, “trashmouth.” 

now it made much more sense to you. 

he’s old now, of course, but he still seems basically the same - the hair, the broad shoulders and long legs, the disheveled yet-somehow-still-sexy style, and his smirk that makes your legs weak. 

"you miss me or what, asshole?" you say, a smile splitting your face as you opened your arms. he laughs, walking over to hug you tightly. hugging him gives you instant flashbacks, memories of childhood dares, blowing smoke out window screens, laughter in the middle of the derry grocery store where stan and ben worked, and shitty jokes. 

"you could say that." richie mutters.

as the others arrive and you order food and get to catching up, you take in richie's appearance even more. you can’t fucking help it - he’s somehow grown even more into his looks, and he's got the most insane charisma. he's wearing the same glasses as he used to, and when he laughs really hard he pushes them up with his middle finger. he's got a five o'clock shadow dusting his jaw and he's still as tall as ever, his voice loud as he cracks jokes that have you laughing into your vodka tonic.

after richie pulling a full mile, round-about way of joking that he married eddie's nightmare of a mom, you're all laughing as he imitates jabba the hut. you roll your eyes, hating how badly you want him after all this time. at least hes not married.

"so you single too, y/l/n?" richie asks you then, calling your attention as he grins at you. you rake your eyes over his form quickly, hoping he doesn't notice.

yes, the answer was unequivocally yes.

you hum instead. "for now." you say, lifting a flirty brow at him before sipping on your drink. he smirks into his own glass and it makes your stomach burn halfway between anticipation and desire as the others share glances. 

"almost forgot about that." ben says quietly with a smile to bev, and you shoot them a questioning look.

bev sends you a knowing smirk as she nods to richie, who's teasing eddie again and you roll your eyes. you feel like a kid again, being back with all of your friends from when you were young and getting teased every living moment for your pining after richie. 

as you all get ready to go back to the townhouse after the shocking final events at the jade, you pull your phone out to call a cab. "you didn't get a rental?" bill asks, lifting a brow. you shake your head, "no. didn't really think of it, i just kind of..." you trail off, memories flashing around your mind of late nights in high school, screaming as you lean out richie's car window with stan laughing and eddie gripping your legs.

you shake your head. everybody looks as if they're remembering the same things you are, staring at the horizon with blank, furrowed faces. richie's the first to snap out of it, "i can give you a lift, y/n." he mutters, fishing a pair of keys out of his pocket then twirling them around his finger.

eyeing richie's profile, you smirk lightly, thinking about how immediate your attraction to him has returned in just the last few hours. as you walk away from the others, you lay your gaze on a red car and you whistle. "sweet ride, is this yours?" you ask, biting your lip as you eye the mustang richie's just unlocked.

"depends on who's asking, sugar." he says with a smirk, snorting when you narrow your eyes at him. you don't think what he just said even makes sense. 

"what, so richie tozier gets all famous and can't tell me anything anymore?" you ask as you slide into the passenger seat.

"we're strangers, are we not?" he's got that fucking smirk still. the same one from childhood, except this one is much more... provocative. 

you shake your head, "i don't think strangers give each other rides home in their mustangs just out of the goodness of their heart, do they?" you say as he pulls out of the parking lot, and he grins. you clench your legs together as the streetlights light up his profile, his hair perfectly messy and his jaw line sculpted.

"depends, sugar, what're you gonna give me in return?" he asks, a glint in his eye as he glances at you. his words send shivers through your body and you stare at him with a smirk, "i'm sure i can think of something."

he hums, looking back to the road with a grin. as you watch scenery pass by you of the town you'd forgotten for twenty years, you realize he's going all the way around town towards the inn. "you going the long way for a reason?" you ask, watching as he clenches his jaw as if he's been caught.

"don't know what you're talkin' about, y/l/n." he mumbles, but there's that damn glint in his eye again as he smirks. you grin, looking out the window at the passing trees on the path into derry. "yeah, yeah. i just think you wanted to spend more time with me." you say as you look over at him. he's smirking lazily as he watches the road, one arm on the steering wheel. "maybe." he responds.

richie pulls up to a stop light and for a second, the two of you sit and stare at each other, so many unspoken words hovering in the air. 

and then, without another thought, richie's lips are hard against yours, pressing heatedly against yours and moving quickly. his hand is on your thigh, squeezing as you kiss back and making you moan into his mouth.

your hand falls onto his neck, tugging lightly on his curly strands as you kiss him, tasting scotch and cigarettes and freedom. you've waited too long, you realize - you spent your entire childhood staring after the boy with the tropical shirts and the big glasses, and now you're here with him, grown up and free to do what you want.

and he's kissing you.

just as his tongue wins dominance over yours, a loud honk makes you jump apart and you realize the light's turned green. "fuck." he says quietly, stepping on the gas pedal and racing off down the otherwise empty road. you look at each other and he smiles sheepishly, "fuck, y/n, you're so hot." he says quickly, and you laugh lightly, feeling flattered.

you lean back over the console as he drives so you're next to his ear, hand sliding down his chest slowly. "you're not too bad yourself, tozier." you say lowly, kissing his jaw. he turns and kisses you heatedly, taking your breath away quickly as he turns back to the road with a smirk.

unable to bear the tension, and feeling really desperate, you start to kiss his neck. "richie, i need you." you whine quietly and you feel him swallow harshly. "shit, doll." is all he says, his hand falling to grip your thigh possessively. 

you keep going, your hand sliding down until you’re gripping his hard cock through his jeans and teasing your palm over it, sucking a mark into his neck which makes him groan. 

"you got a deathwish, babe?" he says lowly as you nip at the skin under his jaw, your hand palming him teasingly. he's already hard and you smirk against his skin. "relax, all you have to do is drive." you say as you undo your seatbelt, twisting so you can palm him better. he spreads his legs slightly as he readjusts, letting out a quiet "fuck, yeah." as you undo his jeans. 

"you're a dream, y/n." he says tightly, like he's clenching his jaw.

his knuckles are white as he clutches the wheel, eyes darting between the road and you as you slowly pull his hard cock out of his underwear and pump him slowly. your eyes widen as you take in his size, not expecting him to be as big as he is. 

you slowly dart your tongue out, swiping along the tip and collecting the precum as it beads over. "shit." richie hisses as you flatten your tongue along the bottom of his cock, teasing him a bit before slowly taking him into your mouth.

the groan he lets out as you take him as far as you can is sinful, his head hitting back against the headrest as he struggles to keep his eyes on the road. bobbing your head, you hollow your cheeks and relish in the feeling of richie's cock in your throat, stretching you out and making you moan around him. 

"you feel so good baby." he hisses, his hand moving from your thigh up to grip the wheel while he lays on the gas before falling to the back of your head, carding through your hair. you want to roll your eyes at how much he's talking, but you expected just about that from the trashmouth. "fuck."

you can't believe you're here, in derry again, sucking off famous comedian and - as you remembered a few hours ago -  your former childhood crush, richie tozier, in his car.

you see lights out of the corner of your eye and you feel the car come to a stop, and you realize you’re stopped at a light. you can hear another car engine either next to yours or behind yours and you clench your thighs at the thought of someone seeing. “fuck, y/n. god, takin’ my cock perfectly.” he mutters, watching you bob your head, and despite the lewd act you’re doing, you turn bright red at the praise. 

as the light turns green he’s stepping on the gas again and you pull off of him to take a few breaths, pumping as much as you can with your hand as he moans lightly. you see you're nearing the town house, so you take him back into your mouth and try to relax, breathing through your nose as his cock twitches in the back of your throat and you gag.

you bob your head after that, your tongue flat against his cock as he pulls into the parking lot.

you feel him put the car into park and then he moans lowly, bucking his hips up and you choke a bit as he slides further in your mouth and stretches your throat. "fuckin' hell, toots." he mutters, hands falling to your hair as he guides your mouth up and down on his cock. your mind reels back slightly at richie's words and you remember all the times you watched him show up to school with hickies littering his neck, all the hours you spent pining after this gangly asshole, and you hollow your mouth.

"god, i'm gonna cum. y/n. fuck," richie mutters and you eagerly swallow around him, moving slightly so you're on your knees on your seat, the new angle making him toss his head back against the headrest. one of his hands travels the expanse of your back, tracing down your spine as you move harder, helping him chase his high. he kneads your ass lightly, which makes you keen forward and take him deep, gagging as you force your throat to relax.

 "good, just like that." he says quietly, breathy moans escaping his throat as he bucks his hips and you gag, eyes tearing up.

and then he's hitting his high, cumming in your mouth with a groan of your name, his hand squeezing your ass as the other holds your head down on his cock. you moan a bit as you swallow, pulling off him slowly as he pants, smirking down at you. 

"well shit, if i'm getting that for driving you home, i'll be your personal chauffeur." he insists. you smack him lightly on the arm as you wipe your mouth, catching your breath.

it gets silent then, as if you're both realizing what just happened and how quickly it escalated.

he lets out a breath as he stares at you, eyes hooded. you bite your swollen lip as you watch him, gauging his reaction. "do you want to... come up to my room?" he says breathlessly, looking blissed out. 

you bite your lip as he lifts a brow and you nod. "yes, i really do." you say as the two of you scramble out of his car, minds distracted from the danger ahead and only thinking about making it up to his room.

tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozier @simplesammyx @dickology64 @clownsloveyou @baby-yoda-a @moon-shine-baby @daughter-of-the-stars11 @lets-vibe-bro @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @finnskindofwoman  @kait-tozier @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs

[hanalwayssolo]

The Games That Play Us

A/N: You and Me and The Bottle Makes Three is a collection of one-shots I wrote many moons ago to unload a lot of feels, and part of the reason why I haven’t had the courage to share this is because it mirrors a huge fraction of my personal life (which parts of these stories is now up for speculation) and a drinking habit I’m trying to get rid of lmao so my dudes, tagging this with alcohol mention, just in case.

Also, it’s equal parts fluff and angst, and it’s something I ripped straight out of my garbage heart. So uh, it’s really as personal as it’s gonna get.

Tagging some folks on top of my miiiiind: @eternallydaydreaming2015 @louisvuittontrashbags @hypaalicious @itshaejinju

Noctis | Prompto | Gladio | Ignis

9:43 PM I miss you

Your text message flashes on Noctis’s phone screen, and it was enough for him to be thrown off his game of King’s Knight with Prompto.

Another message follows.

9:43 PM I miss us

And then another.

9:44 PM You rly did break my fucking heart your highness :)

For the record, you don't really text like that. In fact, you rarely even text. And when you do, you texted in pristine sentences, punctuated to perfection.

But still, Noctis froze at these cryptic messages, all coming from your number. Despite Prompto obnoxiously jeering in the background over his shameful defeat, Noctis was lost in his own world, spacing out at the very sight of your name.

“You okay there, buddy?” Prompto taunts, waiting for Noctis to respond with a feisty retaliation.

Not a word.

“Please, let us allow His Highness to gather the remains of his ego,” Ignis chides, unable to hide his amusement.

But zero, zilch, nada.

Usually, he has a snarky comeback to counter his friends. But he’s too occupied re-reading your messages—twice, thrice, and another more for good measure—before he slowly places the phone in the table for all his friends to see.

The first to worry was Gladio, who immediately asks, “Hey, what’s going on—”

Prompto grabs his phone with avid interest; Gladio and Ignis peer over his shoulder. They all read the texts, and they find themselves gaping at Noctis in disbelief.

Noctis finally shatters the silence. “Do you guys think… she’s okay?”

Both Ignis and Prompto sigh and share a despondent look, while Gladio steps in to answer.

“Noct,” his voice was low and grim. “You broke up with her because you’re getting married. That’s a lot to take in. Of course she’s not okay.”

To be fair, Noctis broke the news of his engagement with Princess Lunafreya to you the first thing he learned of it. He ran straight to your apartment and painfully explained the arrangement in strained sparse details that you eventually pieced it together to get the whole picture — you knew Noct has a poor habit of explaining things, but you’re so well-versed in understanding his language in full context and in filling all of his blanks, like you always do.

Truth is, he never wanted any of it and he only wanted you, and you held onto this precipice of knowledge with the hopes that maybe, he can change his mind. That he’ll fight for you. Chase you. Stay for you.

But ultimately, he had to do the right thing, and the right thing was to leave you. It was difficult for Noctis and you saw how the burden tortured him the instant he shed those tears that you were supposed to be crying. In the end, you respected all of this, as you should. You understood what he needed to do. You parted ways and you let him walk out of your door with a smile on your face.

What isn’t fair, however, is the pain that came after. It was a treacherous bastard; you thought you’re okay for a full swing of a week, and it only took one small moment—it was when you found yourself stopping by your usual gaming spot, the place where he first kissed you—and the pain came in tidal waves, ravenous and raging, destroying your illusion and revealing the cracks. The pain was violent, it mercilessly throbbed and ached, and you were crying in the middle of the street before you even realized you were crying, crippled with the hollow absence that Noctis left behind.

What isn't fair is that you didn’t ask for any of this. You didn’t ask for promises. You didn't ask to meet Noctis and have him turn your life around. You didn’t ask for love. But you let him in, knowing from the start that he isn't even meant to stay.

Buried under your pillows and sheets cradling a cheap bottle of vodka, you held the jagged pieces of your broken heart as you thumb another reckless text:

10:05 PM here take whats left of my heart and wear it like a crown :)

10:06 PM or like an armor or a badge of honor since you look good in almost anything it hurts :)

If you weren’t a bit tipsy, you would think this is all too petty for your tastes, passive-aggressive smileys included. But it felt so good hurling these messages onto the void; you knew Noctis doesn’t know how to respond to texts. Heck, you knew he rarely reads them—he only either uses his phone for his stupid mobile games and for calling you...

Which, of course, he hasn’t done in the past few days because it’s over and you’re just the newly-minted ex of a prince, and he’s leaving tomorrow to get married, and you can already imagine him looking so dashing in a suit, smiling and waiting at the altar, and you can picture these beautiful babies that he’s going to have with Princess Luna—

A loud banging at your door drags you out of your cauldron of tormented, heartbroken hell. You close your eyes and try to channel your will to pull yourself together and get to the door. You recalled you ordered for two boxes of pizza hours ago for sustenance, so you took some cash as you clumsily stumble forward, vodka bottle still in tow.

You slightly fix your hair to make yourself look at least presentable and appear sober. You open the door and oddly enough, the pizza delivery boy isn’t even carrying your much awaited pizza box.

And he’s wearing all black.

And he looks so much like Noctis…

Oh. Fuck.

“Hi.” Noctis is a little out of breath, his eyes rimmed red.

“You’re here,” you choke. Noctis stood there watching you, and there was a pregnant pause.

He’s here. Right at your doorstep.

“Do I curtsy now or do I bend the knee?”

Noctis scoffs and notices the bottle in your hand. “I see you’ve been drinking.”

“And I see you haven’t left yet.”

“You said you were fine.”

“If I said I wasn’t fine, would that make you stay?”

“I…”

“Figured just as much.” You sure didn't pull any punches as you kept firing away your words; your mouth is a lot sharper under the influence of alcohol. “Do me one last favor, Noct. Go out there and be a king. Bring forth thy peace. Eventually, I’ll forget about you, and you’ll forget about me—”

“Stop,” his lips quiver, each word a slice through his heart.

“So go leave me alone and get married—”

“I said stop.”

“But before that, will they televise your wedding on national TV? Because I would hate to miss it for the world—”

The bottle slips from your hand as Noctis wraps you in his arms and presses you closer against his chest. His body is too familiar to you—the warmth and the sound of his heartbeat was your sanctuary—and in his arms, you’ve always felt safe that you can’t find the strength to hold back your tears.

“I can’t forget you,” his voice shakes as he squeezes you tighter, stroking your hair and drinking the scent of your skin. “And I don’t want to forget you. I want you and I want to keep wanting you.”

You clench your fists on the back of his shirt as you bawl your eyes out. “I don’t want to forget you, too.”

You both stood there enveloped in each other’s warmth, both hoping that the world would stop spinning on its axis and for time to stand still.