🎶 "pussy put his ass to sleep, now he callin me nyquil" 🎶
for any
𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: SPICY, MDNI, RIDING, UNPROTECTED PNV, mini blurb, any modern m character x f reader
[ 𝑹𝑬𝑸𝑼𝑬𝑺𝑻𝑺 𝑶𝑷𝑬𝑵 ]
-𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒔𝒂𝒊𝒅, 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒖𝒕-
"Come on...You said you can go all night...You know unless you wanna make good on your bet, Baby." You go to move your hips, smirking as you do. The pathetic whine that came from him, you had to keep egging him on over and over as the night progressed. "Give me another one." "Oh, come on." "Be my good boy."
"I can't..." He doesn't even bother with a pet name, considering his eyes are already closed even as he keeps his hands on your hips. You got off him with a massive smirk, smiling as you bite your lip. The last thing you needed to do was just reach down and massage his scalp with your nails and he'd be fast asleep, so you do just that. His lips part, and he pushes his head back with a pathetic little whine.
You get up off him, of course; your legs are quite sore, so it takes you a few minutes to get to the bathroom, but you pop the Plan B like you'd done tons of times before. Wetting a rag, you clean up the mess from between your thighs, careful due to how tender your folds are now. Putting that one in the hamper, you wet another and return to him, gently and softly wiping the cum that's covered his cock and dribbled down his balls onto the bed, and he doesn't even move an inch.
With a massive smirk on your lips, you move over to grab his laptop; the poor stupid man had bet you a brand new vehicle...whatever kind you wanted unless he could go all night. Where is he now? He's dead asleep, his mouth slightly open, having fallen asleep in the middle of you riding him. Of course you'd come and cummed and came around him, giving him only a little bit of time between each of his own orgasms to harden back up. And guess what? Looks like tomorrow he's taking you to go car shopping.
“what are you doing?” you say, giggling while shoving his pout creased face away from yours.
since this morning, you’ve been struggling to get a breath of air from carl gallagher.
when you attempted to use the bathroom, he pulled you deeper into his warmth.
successfully sneaking out, you made breakfast for the both of you while striking up a conversation with ian.
though, shortly after ian left the room, you felt muscular arms wrapping around your waist.
with the roll of your eyes, you felt carl gallagher nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck.
“i just want to love you,” he said, pulling you closer to him by grabbing from underneath your chair, “do you hate me?”
“i never said that,” brushing your fingers through his hair, he hummed in satisfaction, “i’m just trying to do some things is all.”
“we’ll do those things together then,” he said, rubbing his cheeks into the palms of your hands, staring up at you with his puppy eyes.
smiling to yourself, you say, “you’re so clingy this morning. what’s up with that?”
“i woke up desperately wanting to be with you more than usual,” he said, softly kissing your hands, “is it a bad thing?”
“not at all,” you mumble, giving into his plumped lips every so delicately.
in the moment, it was just the two of you, loving one another in your own little world.
“are you done sucking each others face off?” asked lip, walking in with a plate ready in his hand, “because i don’t know if i can keep my food down if you guys continue.”
could i maybe get Carl Gallagher and this prompt after they yk.. “ i can’t find my shirt. ”
title; make it up to you (Carl Gallagher x fem!reader)
prompts; "i can’t find my shirt” — from morning after starters
warnings; fwb arrangements, written as them in their 20s, reader has feelings/wants more than just sex, morning after, allusions to oral, minors do not interact!!! (381 words)
a/n; to say tumblr ate this the first time (so if there is another of this, then that's the original)
one year masterlist | main masterlist
— thank you for celebrating my one year!!! | submissions are now closed
you’d spent the night with Carl, the usual on and off again, making its return in the form of sex.
it wasn’t as if you minded, the sex with Carl was always great, you just wanted a little more than just sex.
but like usual, the sun peaking through his curtains was your sign to leave.
with a reluctant sigh, you climbed out of his bed, rousing him from your movements. Carl lay against his headboard, leaning back on his elbows as he watched you move around the room.
his gaze was always appreciative, watching the way you carried yourself, even in the rush to get dressed and out the door before anyone else in the house seen you.
it was frustrating, the mad dash to get dressed, especially when Carl was always so eager to get you out of your clothes, leaving them scattered around his room with no easy way of finding them again.
“i can’t find my shirt”
you murmured, looking through the discarded clothes around his room.
Carl chuckled from his spot on the bed, making you turn to face him, a smirk plastered firmly on his face.
“and these”
in his hand he held your panties, the lace hanging from his pointer finger, his smirk turning teasing.
“Carl!”
you moved towards him, snatching your underwear back while he chuckled.
as you turned to move away from him, he caught your wrist, tugging you back to him with that smirk you knew all too well.
“c’mon, come back to bed”
he gave you his best pleading look, all but pouting at you to stay.
“i’ll make it up to you”
Carl gave a wag of his eyebrows, the innuendo thick in his words as he pulled you even closer.
little by little he was breaking down your resolve, and you knew you couldn’t say no.
“you owe me”
he hummed, tugging you back down and into bed before settling above you, stealing a kiss that he whispered into.
“oh baby, i’m more than making it up to you”
with that, Carl trailed his kisses lower, lavishing attention to your boobs before continuing his decent.
when he settled between your legs, eyeing your cunt like a man starved, you just knew you were in for a long morning.
“Well, someone definitely snitched,” Fiona said, crossing her arms as she stared at the one-pound bag of drugs sitting on the coffee table.
All the Gallaghers were crammed into the living room — the air thick with silence.
“I didn’t,” Lip said, raising his hands defensively.
“Me neither,” Ian added, glancing around the room.
Fiona’s eyes swept over the rest of them — waiting.
Debbie kept staring at the bag, her expression unreadable.
“I wouldn’t snitch — not with something illegal involved.” she said finally.
Everyone turned to Carl. He frowned, pointing at himself.
“What? You think I did it? I used to deal that stuff, and I never snitched once.”
A collective sigh went around the room. Fiona pinched the bridge of her nose.
“Then who else was in the room with us?”
Silence. No one moved. Just stared into silence.
“Well, uh… Carl’s girlfriend was there,” Lip said.
Everyone turned to him — then to Carl, who was already looking furious.
“No. Fuck you guys,” Carl snapped. “My girlfriend is not a snitch. We’re not dragging her into this conversation.”
“Just because she’s your girlfriend doesn’t mean she’s not snitching on us,” Lip shot back.
Carl blinked, his anger shifting into disbelief. He stood up, glaring at everyone in the room. “Seriously? You’re gonna pin this on her?”
Fiona folded her arms, voice calm but sharp. “Well, she’s kind of an angel, Carl. Maybe her conscience couldn’t handle seeing a whole pound of drugs sitting on our table.”
Carl shook his head in disgust. “This is so wrong. You guys are sick.”
“She is the only one who wasn’t a Gallagher in the room and Gallaghers never snitch.” Fiona added.
“Fuck that.” Carl replied
Lip leaned forward, his tone cutting. “Then you better make things right before we all end up in jail and never see your innocent little girlfriend again.”
One by one, everyone walked out, leaving Carl alone in the living room.
He stared at the bag on the table.
She wouldn’t… would she?
Carl let out a long sigh and headed outside. As he walked toward your place, the same question kept echoing in his head — she wouldn’t, right? Deep down, he already knew the answer. She wouldn’t. She’d never do that. He just wanted to prove his family wrong, to protect her the way he always promised he would.
You were nothing like anyone else on the block. You were clean, focused on school, never dated anyone before, and actually came from a loving family. Dating Carl Gallagher was a completely new experience for you— wild, unpredictable, and full of things that you’d only ever seen from a distance.
When you once told him that you haven’t done most of the things he talked about, Carl showed up the next day with a handwritten list — “Stuff to do together.” Of course, he’d excluded out anything illegal or dangerous: no drugs, no shoplifting, no robbing stores. He wanted you to have fun, not wreck your life.
He never minded that you weren’t into that kind of stuff. As long as you were happy and comfortable, so was he.
And so, one by one, you both started checking off the list.
✅ Sleep under the L — just until 6:30 p.m. (get her home by 9)
You two didn’t actually sleep. You just lay there under the rattle of the tracks, talking about your lives and realizing how completely opposite you were.
You told him about coming home to your dad passed out on the couch — tired from another long shift. Carl laughed and said he usually came home to find Frank passed out too, except his dad was drunk instead of exhausted.
You both laughed until your sides hurt, the sound of the train above drowning everything else out. For a moment, it didn’t matter how different your worlds were.
✅ Eat in the parking lot — her favorite spot at Chili’s (fries, no sauce on the burger, and a Coke)
You sat together on the back of a random pickup truck, passing fries back and forth.
Carl started talking about school — how much he struggled, how he could never seem to get it right. You listened quietly, then offered to help him.
“Nah,” he said between bites, “that won’t make a difference. I’d just get distracted ‘cause you’re near me.”
You rolled your eyes at him, laughing. “Ha-ha,” you said sarcastically, but your smile gave you away.
Because deep down, you knew you’d give all your time — every late night, every weekend — just to help him through anything.
✅ Hustle a side job (safe) — Babysit or dog walk?
You made the advertisement poster while Carl handled all the “marketing.” Still, you helped him put the flyers up around the streets — poles, walls, shop windows, anywhere people might notice.
By the time you two got home, the sun was setting and your feet ached. You both flopped down on the bed, scrolling through your phones and minding your own business, when your phone suddenly rang.
A call. A customer.
Babysitting.
You both immediately jumped up and got ready. Following the address the lady gave you, you ended up at a small, slightly messy house on the South Side. Carl knocked on the door, and you were suddenly greeted by a woman holding a crying baby, with a blur of children running around the living room behind her.
There were five kids. And only two of you.
“I’m really sorry for the noise,” the woman said, trying to force a smile through the chaos.
“Something urgent came up at work, and I just saw your poster. I could really use your help.”
You and Carl looked at each other, then nodded.
“Thank you for calling us, ma’am. Don’t worry — we can handle this,” you said with a reassuring smile.
You reached out for the baby, and she carefully handed her over to you.
Carl grinned at the woman. “Don’t worry, ma’am. We got this. Just go to work, make that money, and come back to pay us later.”
“O-oh, okay. I’ll be back in a few hours,” she said before rushing out the door.
Now it was just the two of you — and five kids. Four running circles around the couch and one crying in your arms.
“OKAY, LISTEN UP!” Carl shouted suddenly.
The kids froze mid-run. Even the baby went quiet.
“I want you to line up and tell me your names. No funny business, or we’re out — and you can all starve on your own,” he said seriously.
One by one, the kids slowly lined up in front of him.
“My name’s Louie, and I’m seven,” said a small boy with messy brown hair — clearly the eldest.
“My name’s Brian, and I’m six and a half,” the next one said, trying to sound tough.
“My name’s Timmy, and I’m almost six!” another shouted, proudly raising all five fingers.
“I’m Zayne, and I’m five,” said the littlest boy, looking up at Carl with wide eyes.
You adjusted the baby in your arms. “And who might this one be?” you asked, glancing between them and the baby you were holding.
“Her name’s Bella,” Louie said.
Carl nodded. “Alright, now that that’s over — we’re gonna play a game.”
He crouched down to Louie’s height. “Hey, you got any toy guns?”
“Carl,” you whispered, eyes narrowing.
He just smirked. “Don’t worry, angel, I got this. You just put the baby to sleep — I’ll handle the rest.”
He winked, and you couldn’t help but smile before heading upstairs with Bella.
You tried everything you could think of to get her to sleep — rocking her, humming softly, even pacing the room. After what felt like hours, her cries finally faded. You laid her down gently in her crib, watching her tiny chest rise and fall as she drifted off.
You quietly shut the door behind you and made your way downstairs. When you reached the living room, you stopped — Carl was on the floor, surrounded by the kids, all laughing as they played some made-up game.
“Hey,” you called out, smiling, “I’m gonna go buy us some snacks. I’ll be back, okay?”
“Sure,” Carl said, glancing up at you. “You want me to come with you?”
“No, it’s fine. I can just buy whatever you guys want.”
Immediately, the kids shouted out their requests:
“Ice cream!” Zayne yelled. “Chips!” Brian said. “Popcorn!” Louie added. “Candy!” Timmy shouted, jumping up and down.
“Okay, calm down! My girlfriend is not an ATM machine,” Carl said, shaking his head.
“Don’t worry,” you said, laughing. “Their mom left me some money.”
Carl’s eyes widened. “She left you the money?! Where’s my money?!” he yelled after you, but you were already out the door.
At the nearest convenience store, you grabbed everything the kids wanted — chips, popcorn, ice cream, candy — the works.
When you came back, the house was quiet. Too quiet.
“Carl?” you called softly, stepping inside.
No answer.
You peeked into the living room and stopped. There they all were — Carl and the four kids fast asleep on the couch. One kid lay sprawled across Carl’s lap, another on his shoulder, the rest piled against him like sleepy dominoes.
You smiled quietly.
Did you really take that long? you thought, setting the snacks down on the table.
For the dog walker, You didn’t get many calls, but the few you did were enough — though every single dog you got seemed to be way bigger than you. Within minutes, you were being dragged down the block by a pair of overexcited beasts while Carl trailed behind, doing everything he could to keep his laugh in.
You shot him a sharp look over your shoulder — the kind that said don’t you dare.
He raised his hands, smirking. “Hey, this one’s on you. I offered to take the big dogs, remember?”
You groaned, tugging at the leash as the dogs pulled you forward again. Okay, maybe it was partly your fault. You’d been stubborn — refusing to let Carl take all the big dogs while you got stuck with the tiny ones.
Now here you were, basically skating down the sidewalk, dragged by two furry tanks while your so-called partner-in-hustle was dying of laughter behind you.
And some other stuff you both haven’t find the time to do yet.
[] sell something - (legal)
[] hang out at alibi
[] hangout at rooftop
[] ride train - until last stop
[] Cook dinner
[] find “our” spot
So no — he would never think you’d snitch on them. After running through every possible reason you might, he came up with none. That’s how he ended up standing in front of your door.
He knocked once, shoving his hands into his pockets. You opened it a few seconds later — both of you wearing the same tired expression.
You’d just come home from school, clearly exhausted after another long day. You’d spent hours grinding for an A in a class where the teacher obviously had it out for you. But the moment you saw Carl standing there, some of that weight lifted off your shoulders.
You smiled softly and stepped outside, closing the door behind you. The two of you stood there for a moment, surrounded by the sound of distant traffic and the city breathing around you.
You looked at him — that familiar look in his eyes. The one that said something was eating at him.
“Are you okay?” you asked gently, reaching up to touch his face.
Before you could, he caught your hand and held it. His grip was tight — not rough, but nervous.
“Would you… ever tell someone what you saw if it was something bad?” he asked, his voice low and uncertain.
You blinked, confused, a nervous laugh slipping out. “What’s this about, Carl?”
He didn’t answer right away, just looked at you — searching for something.
“Did you… see something?” you asked, trying to read his eyes.
“No,” he said, shaking his head slightly. “But you did.”
Your brows furrowed.
“The other night,” he continued quietly. “When we were at my house… and there was that drug stuff on the table.”
“Oh… that.” you said softly, the memory flashing back.
(Where you and Carl had just made a quick stop by his house after hanging out all day. Entering through the back door, you both were greeted by his family gathered in the kitchen — and a pile of drugs laid out across the table.
Everyone went quiet the second you stepped in. You froze for a moment, eyes darting between the faces and the stash. It wasn’t exactly your typical late-night surprise, but you knew better than to ask questions.)
“Yeah,” Carl finally said, breaking the silence in the present. “And now one of us who was in that room probably snitched — and could get all of us arrested.”
Your stomach tightened. “What? Who would snitch on you guys?” you asked, your voice filled with worry.
He didn’t answer right away. His eyes met yours — then drifted down to the ground.
That look alone felt like a punch to the chest. Your heart dropped.
“You think I did it?” you asked quietly, the words barely escaping.
He looked back up, eyes wide, shaking his head. “No. I know you didn’t do it,” he said, his tone firm — but there was something else beneath it.
“But,” he added, rubbing the back of his neck, “they said you were the only one in the room who wasn’t a Gallagher.”
You let out a breathy laugh, half disbelief, half hurt. “So what — whoever’s not a Gallagher automatically becomes the snitch?”
Carl looked up at you again.
“Well, I mean… we don’t really snitch on each other,” he said, his voice uncertain, eyes flickering away from yours.
You just stood there, silent. You couldn’t find the words to defend yourself. You were too tired — from school, from life — and you thought seeing him at your door would give you a moment of peace. But instead, you were standing here, being accused of something you’d never even think of doing.
He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Look, I know that wasn’t your typical night, okay? Seeing all that — the drugs, the illegal stuff — maybe it freaked you out. You probably couldn’t handle it and told the cops. I get it.”
He kept talking, rambling, but you couldn’t focus on a single word. The only thing echoing in your head was the thought that he — and his family actually believed you’d snitch on them.
“You could just tell them that you had to do it because you—”
“No.”
He stopped mid-sentence, blinking at you.
“What do you mean, no?” Carl asked, confused.
You looked at him, eyes glassy but voice steady. “No, I wouldn’t tell them because I didn’t do it.”
He opened his mouth again, the words slipping out before he could stop himself. “Well, that’s impossible—”
“Impossible?!” you snapped, your voice rising as the tears you’d been holding back finally threatened to spill.
“What does your family think of me, Carl?” you asked, your voice trembling. “That I’d tell on someone just because I saw something I shouldn’t have seen? Do they always think of me that way? That one day I’d step too far into your world, and your family’s secrets would start to unfold — and I’d just… break? Tell someone because I couldn’t handle it anymore?”
Carl stayed silent. He didn’t know what to say — or maybe he did, but none of it would’ve made a difference.
“I’m sorry,” he finally muttered.
The air between you went still. The city around you didn’t matter — not the cars, not the noise, not the fading light. Just the heavy silence hanging between you.
After a few seconds, he said quietly, “You could still just… pretend to tell them it was you. Just to end this argument. Make everything go back to normal.”
Your brows furrowed. You didn’t even know what to feel anymore — anger, betrayal, heartbreak, all of it mixing until you couldn’t tell one from the other.
“That’s low, Carl,” you said, tears glinting in your eyes. “Even for you.”
Before he could say another word, you turned and went inside, slamming the door shut behind you.
Carl stood there, staring at the door — the sound echoing in his chest. He felt sick. Angry at himself. He knew he’d screwed up the second the words left his mouth.
On the walk home, he kept replaying everything over and over, blaming himself for pushing you away. He barely noticed when he reached the house.
Fiona said something from the couch — “Well, did she admit it?” — but he didn’t even answer.
He just went straight to his room, threw himself on the bed, and grabbed his phone.
He stared at the screen for a long time before typing:
[I’m sorry.] [I shouldn’t have said that.] [I know you didn’t do it.] [Please call me.]
