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muwapsturniolo · 20 days

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✯𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐃𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰✯

IN WHICH... Y/n is cheating on her boyfriend with Matt

WARNINGS: NSFW CONTENT AHEAD!!!! cheating, smut, unprotected sex, lying.

this was for a request i had gotten. I hope anon likes it.

Y/n had a secret.

Every Sunday Y/n would tell her boyfriend Scott she was going to church, worshiping the god that gave her life and thanking him. She would dress up in the most prettiest dress, pairing it with her knee socks and Mary Janes.

She would leave the house and walk down to the town church, counting down the steps before she arrived. She would greet the familiar faces of the churchgoers and wait patiently for her friend to come.

Once her friend arrived, she would leave the church and they would drive to a parking lot. It wasn't like she really lied to her boyfriend, technically she still went to church, she just didn't stay. She technically did get down on her knees, pray, and worship...it just wasn't to the same god as everyone else.

She was cheating.

The so-called god she was worshipping, was a guy named Matt. She doesn't even remember how they met, but what she did remember was how good he made her feel. She loved the way he touched her, his fingers feeling like a ball of a thousand suns as they slipped inside of her. The way he ate her out as if it was his favorite meal...She craved it.

But Scotty doesn't know.

He doesn't know that the two adulterers decided to see each other on other days as well as Sundays. Y/n would make up excuses on top of excuses just to see Matt.

Her favorite excuse was telling Scott she was going shopping. Scott thought nothing of it considering the girl was a shopping addict, always buying clothes, purses, makeup, and even hair clips.

Once again it technically wasn't a lie, she did get to go shopping. Matt paid for everything and she repaid him by letting him fuck her in the dressing room. They almost got caught, an associate knocked on the door and asked if everything was ok. She was too fucked out to answer and Matt didn't want to stop, so he spurted out a quick "yeah".

It was a rush of adrenaline for them. the idea of being caught by Scott and or others only making them do it more.

Matt couldn't believe how stupid Scott was. there's no way he believes Y/n is so busy shopping or doing whatever excuse she tells him. He was too trusting of the promiscuous girl.

The same girl that he's always thrusting into at any chance he gets.

There was a certain instance when the two were having sex in his car, and Scott called. Y/n had declined the call about three times before Matt demanded her to answer. She tried to tell him no, but with a quick thrust of his hips, she listened.

Matt didn't slow down, in fact, he sped up. The whole car was shaking and Y/n was doing her best not to moan out.

"Did you want to come over tonight? I was thinking we could fool around."

Matt grips her hips tighter and slams his hips even harder, a loud screech slipping out of Y/n's mouth.

"Y/n? You ok?"

Somehow Y/n managed to say yes, hoping Scott would just get off the phone, but it seemed like the world hated her. Scott stayed on the phone for another twenty minutes talking and rambling about stuff Y/n could care less about. Matt made it impossibly hard for her to stay sane during the conversation.

Maybe this was her karma for cheating.

The two managed to get away with the phone call, Y/n quickly hanging up without saying goodbye to Scott.

"You gonna fuck him? Hm? You gonna be a whore and fuck your boyfriend after fucking me?"

She shook her head no, a wide grin coating Matt's face.

"Atta girl, he can't fuck you like I can."

It seemed like after that the adulterers were on a high, they had sex in multiple parking lots in broad daylight, Y/n being on top with her top down, her breast bouncing as Matt''s bucks his hips.

They even did it on Scott's front lawn in the snow. It was uncomfortable, but the adrenaline rush they got was almost better than their orgasms.

There was an instance on Scott's birthday where the two ended up having sex in Scott's own bed. y/n knew it was wrong, but she couldn't help herself. She loved the excitement Matt brought into her life...She loved him.

And the feelings were mutual.

When Matt walked down the stairs a few moments after Y/n, he had watched his girl waltz right into Scott's arms, the male kissing her on the cheek. He could see the look of annoyance on Y/n's face and that was enough for him to decide.

Scotty had to go, and Matt was going to tell him himself.

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harianaswhore · 4 months

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⟡ charles leclerc 2 ⟡

NONE OF THESE ARE WRITTEN BY ME

ᵐʸ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʳᵉᶜˢ

— ᶠᴸᵁᶠᶠ ⟡

childhood wedding - @russellsppttemplates

period simulator (^)

mama's boy (^)

my person (^)

baby me - @thepersonnamedsam

my home (^)

a dulcet evening - @f1daydreamers

orange theory - @forzalando

elevator - @silverstonesainz-archive

big dream - @lecsainz

flowers for me. flowers for you. - @uglyducklingofthe2000s

doing it properly (^)

making movies out of memories (^)

prettiest - @starlost97

an unforgettable anniversary - @mariclerc

the sweatshirt (little angsty) - @charles-leclerizz

making a mess - @predestinadora

golden globes - @hemmingsleclerc

theories of relativity - @pucksandpower

something sweet (^)

sleepy endearment - @adventuringblind

missed signals - @ickie

high-school sweetheart - @violetszone

73 questions with mrs. leclerc - @leclerc-hs

studies - @lxclerc

early mornings (^)

ten seconds (^)

mine (^) (i read their entire masterlist 😭)

sentimental - @illicitlimerence-writes

hot shot driver - @rebelwrites

ruination - @1644s

— ᴬᴺᴳˢᵀ⟡

right timing (sobbed over this) - @moneymasnn

said something stupid, instead of 'i love you' (smut) - @absolutelynotmate-archive

world burning (tw: injury, violence, etc.) - @miirohs

i'll look after you (tw: not eating, passing out, etc.) - @roostersgirlfriendlovesf1

mafia!charles (tw: violence, slightly angsty) - @norrisleclercf1

forced - @imaginaryf1shots

wait for your love - @leclerc-hs

all i'm asking for is your time - @mariahcarreyyy

as long as he's here (mentions of death of parents) - @forzalayla

just a mother - @natwritesf1

all of me for you (dark stuff !!! and smut towards the end) - @annie115

flushed (!!!! spiking drinks !!!!)- @xxblairexxss

— ˢᴹᵁᵀ⟡

inked - @pucksandpower

lessons in anatomy (suggestive) (^)

pretty songs and pretty moans - @theemporium

aphrodisiac (^)

erotic small gestures (suggestive) - @inblurtub

like real people do - @monzabee

only for you - @mickyschumacher

match point - @thatsdemko

you're laughing (suggestive) - @scuderiahoney

whip em out - @norrisleclercf1

no mercy - @jamminvroomvroom

wedding night - @non-stop-imagines

needy - @cherry-leclerc

slut! (sexism, misogyny, etc.) - @luvth0t

one too many bites - @va1entinesg4l

something angelic - @agendabymooner

do i wanna know - @leclerc-hs

— ˢᴼᶜᴵᴬᴸ ᴹᴱᴰᴵᴬ ⟡

le temps de l'amour - @nouvellevqgue

dream girl - @lunavrse

everything has changed - @thisismeracing

king of manifesting (^)

da track life - @sincerlyleclerc

perfect - @mclqren

wrong city - @captainreecejames

everything ends...or does it? - @chrisevansonly

the short con - @planetpiastri

i know places - @pierregazly

"you" in church - @slyscoutess

booktube - @edwardslvrr

tortured poets - @harrysfolklore

lestappen reimagined (^)

that boy is mine - @imnameimswrld

— ˢᴱᴿᴵᴱˢ ⟡

something just like this two lay all your love on me - @imthebadguyyy

mornings spent well two three - @thepersonnamedsam

life is a highway (lighting mcqueen!charles is everything to me) (smau) - @f1version

go for his brother two three (smau) - @il-miele-che-scrive

a paddock day (smau) - @sofs16

enemys enemys? lovers - @charlesslut16

saw ur mom at the grocery store well, i'm still in love with you (smau) - @love-belle

karma - @leclerc-s

what happens in vegas - @sunrizef1

just friends two three (smau) - @milaeth

revenge two - @xxblairexxss

bear hugs - @lightsoutletsgo

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agoofyannoyancetolaw · 5 months

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holy

a/n: decided to take some inspo from that very first fic I wrote so tada. It’s a long one so buckle in folks- also some reader dialog because it was needed for plot :/

minors DNI I’m fr.

phillip was a good man, a holy man, a priest. He had sworn celibacy a long time ago and has kept it every day even when the prettiest boys would look at him and his heart ached to feel their touch. He had his church and his small town and he was happy with just that and nothing more- until the little town he loved started to change around him, the church got hard for him to sit in with the feeling of burning pain coursing through him every time he preached.

he just couldn’t understand it?? Why had his god cursed him with these sudden pains in the place he called home? Why has his house felt so hauntingly open to the world as if someone was following him, watching him. And it didn’t help that every damn night he felt as if someone or something was in bed with him and teasing his senses and urges with every passing second.

he had searched his entire apartment, throwing things and moving chairs and desks to try to find where the hell this feeling had come from- only to find a small pentagram on the floor of the last owners carpet which he jumped at.

he fell back on the ground with a thud, his cross necklace falling directly onto the pentagram as a hazy feeling filled the air that made him want to gag or run away on his heels like a child.

your shadowy figure stood over him in silence- long horns, sharp claws, a tail and folded wings; a demon. God what had he done! He didn’t want this, he didn’t want to be killed or dammed or anything else! He was too focused on this thoughts to even feel your hand grip his chin and tilt his head up as if you were inspecting him

“ah. A pretty little priest, hm? Almost a shame you summoned me- although you’re stuck with me now either way.” You hummed with a smile, his eyes widening at your voice and your claim alike

“leave me be!! Creature of Satan-!” graves said in a surprisingly shaky voice for someone so educated on demons

“Aw, it’s not like I’m going to hurt you- but your stuck with me now” you hummed as you knocked him out with a simple tap on his shoulder due to his fear and carried him to his bed.

over the weeks he had gotten used to you. Your figure haunting over him while he tried to sleep and the burning he could feel when he was inside the church with you silently stalking outside past the windows of the church as if you were a normal person- god he even started to like having you around. your handsome voice ringing in his ear or your calloused hands touching him when you moved him around the house… but that would be wrong! You’re a demon, a creature banned by his god!

He tried ignoring it, he really did. But the feeling of your hands gripping at his hips and the feeling of your hot breath on his neck kept reminding him of those sinful ideas; yet none the less it sent his blood rushing to his lower half. Especially when you insisted to sleep next to him every night.

This morning when he woke up he would have to pry himself out of your grip to get ready for the day per usual. Although the feeling of your member practically flush against him was making him whine- he couldn’t contain the urge to nestle up against you and grind against you ever so slightly like a dog in heat. He felt horrid for doing this, sinful even.. but he continued anyway till you woke up with a lazy chuckle, soft pleas already falling from his pretty lips.

He only stopped when he felt your hands grip his hips and play with the waistband of his boxers, his entire body shuttering as he felt your warm hands tease his rim. He knew this was wrong, he knew this wouldn’t be something he could make up for with god- but it felt so good.

he practically lost his breath when he felt one of your digits slip into him slowly, the painful stretch making him scramble to try not to make noise as you played his body like a fiddle. He could already feel a hot coiling sensation slowly tense and build up in the depth of his mind. his pretty little jaw slack and tears dotting his eyes as you slid another finger in and pressed against his prostate softly; his cock twitching against his now tugged down boxers with pathetic whimpers to accompany the sensation. He clenched around your fingers like a vice as you prepped him, half out of it by the time you pulled your digits out.

he wiggled around a bit searching for your fingers again before he felt the burning pleasure of your members head against his rim, the slow push making him feel as if it was in his throat or skewering him whole. He was moaning loudly by the time your hips were flushed against his, his lips bruised from how hard he tried to keep his mouth shut.

his breath was sharp as he desperately tried to focus on the way you bucked into him and bruised his hips With your grip.. god how has he sworn to not do this!? He couldn’t even put together a sentence as he painted the sheets white, clenching around you so tightly that you did the same inside of him. his back arching so prettily when you pulled over and kissed him on the cheek as if he was yours…

he didn’t like the fact he had broken his oath, but he would sell his soul to you just to do it again.

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norrisleclercf1 · 11 months

Text

3 Words

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Lando Norris x F!Reader

Words: 3.5K

Warnings: Gut wrenching angst, just mainly angst, I couldn't help it I'm sorry miscommunication, fluff at the end

Requested: Yes/No

A/N: I was going to write smut for this even had it finished, but I scrapped it as it just didn't feel right for this. Also slightly edited

Synopsis: It's 3 words that have your world crumbling, and coming together again.

3 words, that's all they are, 3 simple words.

No one really takes into account what 3 words can do to someone. That's all it took for your world to turn upside down, 3 words.

"I love you."

They never tell you that you get this numb feeling in your chest, or how you feel everything slow down. Why didn't they warn you that you'll feel sick, happy, sadness.......regret.

No one told you that when you hear those words, you'll freeze. Staring at those hazel eyes, you hate that your heart screams for another. You wish those eyes weren't hazel but the prettiest blue-green you've ever seen.

Every inch of your body, sparked to life, bringing you back from this frozen place you're at. Blinking you come back to focus on your boyfriend of a year saying 3 simple words.

"Carlos." Dropping his head, he sighs, fingers wringing together before looking at you. "Don't, I know." Is all he whispers, kissing your cheek as he grabs your hand.

"No, Carlos." You whisper, planting your feet down, stopping Carlos. He turns slowly; pain, sadness, and regret are all that stare back at you, mirroring your own emotions. "You know....that.....I feel the same, but simultaneously," He stops you, raising a hand.

"Some of you will always love him, and I knew this. I always knew that I'd be second in your heart, that you'll never be able to let him go. And I'm okay with that. Because I'll be the one you love last." His words cut you deep, and you didn't want to love them separately; you wanted both.

A secret you've kept to yourself for years. Loving two men, it was hard. Harden when they're old teammates, best friends, more? You always questioned the relationship they had with one another.

"Carlos.....You're not second in my heart, there is no fighting over me. I'm here, with you." He scuffs, feet kicking at invisible dirt. "I see it Y/n." Breaths shaky, Carlos gathers his thoughts before continuing.

"I see the secret looks, the phantom touches, how your heart cries for him. It's all I can see, and I hate that I don't hate it. I despise the fact that I'm more than okay letting him have you, only if it means I keep you too." Hands clamp on your throat, the panic and terror gripping at you.

"I want to hate him, but he's.....I love him too. I love you both, I just wish you would've said something first." He whispers, pressing his forehead against yours. A shuttered breath, escapes your mouth.

It's like you can breath again, that Carlos knows. You aren't lying to him or yourself anymore. It's all here in the open no longer in the shadows.

"Carlos, I'm sorry. I should've told you. That I still love him, that you aren't the only one I see in the future, that you aren't alone in that church. Because you're not." Carlos's large hands cup your face, his thumbs wiping the bottom of your eyes, stopping the tears before they fall.

"Y/n, we need to take a moment and think about what we want. I know what I want, but do you?" He asks, grip tightens, then falls away, leaving you there. "When you know what you want, tell me." Placing one last kiss on your lips he walks away.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

6 days, that's all it took for the rumors to spread that you broke up with Carlos. The pictures of you spreading everywhere. It's the ones after Carlos walks away, that has the fans in an uproar.

You, crouched down in the middle of the walkaway, sobbing. Your heart ripped in two different directions. One was in Italy the other in London and you had neither piece with you.

All you could do was lie in bed, wearing Carlos's sweatshirt, a lingering scent of him is the only comfort you have. The hate you felt for yourself is strong, that you wanted Carlos here with you, yet yearned for that british accent that whispers sweet nothings in your ear.

Still silence is what leaves you with your thoughts, you turned on the TV but immediately turn it off when both their faces pop up laughing and hanging off one another. It set off fresh tears, eyes burning because you couldn't do anything but cry.

No music, due to the fact that Carlos left it on one of his favorite stations, the memories of you two dancing in your kitchen late one night. It's your favorite memory.

All you did that day was make love, eat, drink nice wine, and stayed up the entire time talking. You can still smell the spices of the food, and feel Carlos's hands on you, when that memory spills into your mind.

Soft knocks, pull you out of your thoughts. With aching muscles you pull yourself out of bed. Everything in you protesting the movement, with each step it felt like a battle raging in you. You don't bother looking who it is at first, just pulling it open.

When you see red, your heart jumps, body warms, it's like life was breathed back into you. Just as fast it filled you, it spills when you see pale skin, short hair, and green hazel eyes.

"Oh." You must sound so broken with that one word, because all the person before you can do is pull you into his hold. "I thought," He shushes you, walking you into the hallway, closing the door. "I know, he wanted to be the one.....they both did, just." He swallows not able to find the words to comfort you.

"Charles, I can't.....I can't breath without them." You sob, this was the first human contact you've had in 6 days, the first time you've seen or spoken to since the photos. "Shhh, it's okay." Charles tightens his hold, rubbing your back.

Carlos and Lando were putting on a good show, acting like they too weren't in the same position. That they too weren't dying inside, the fact that they couldn't be here, to hold you, love you, comfort you. It's the final nail in the coffin.

Charles talks you down, holding a large mug of chamomile tea, a dash of honey and milk. Lando told him that it helps you calm down, and just how you take it. "Here, drink." Placing the it in your hands, the warmth tickles it's way up your arms to your chest.

"How did you," "Lando." Is all Charles says, sipping some water. "Are you going to ask first, or make me tell you?" Charles looks around your apartment, memories of Carlos and Lando both equal in your home.

"How are they?" Hiding your mouth behind your mug, scared to look at Charles. He was somewhat intimidating, protective of the people he loves and consider family. He chuckles, not a humerous one, but one filled with distained and contempt.

"How are they? Well let's see, you dated one for 4 years, but broke up with him, leaving him confused and hurt as to why. Then you start dating his best friend, while you're still in love with the other. Carlos tells you he loves you, and you can't even say it back because of this....regret? Self-loathing shit you've got going on, since you're still in love with Lando, s." He takes a breath staring you down. "You tell me how they are." Each word a stab to the heart.

"I love them both, Charles. I do." He rolls his eyes, licking his lips in frustration. "You love them, but refuse to tell them what is going on with you. Y/n, they both love you and each other. They love each other long before you came along." The more he talks the more you curl in on yourself, wanting a black hole to swallow you up.

"Look, the only reason I'm here is to make sure you're alive and tell them how you are. Also.....call it curiosity, are you ever going to grow some balls and tell them both you want both of them?" You stare into your tea, thinking over Charles words.

"I have balls, Charles. They're on my chest." Charles just stares at you, while your lips form a small smile. "Second, I'm scared they don't want that." They had a bond that's unbreakable nothing on or off the track could break that. And you didn't want to be the one to break it.

"You're just as bad. Y/n, they are together every night. They have needed you every second of their lives, and they need each other. So, since you don't want to understand me I'll say it like this instead; they want to fuck you, love you, and make you theirs everyway possible." Face red, you hide behind your mug, the words crast and beautiful all at the same time.

"Also, please call one of them, my liver can only handle so much drinking and tears." Charles stands, placing a envelope on your coffee table. "If you ever, ever tell them that I came here and talked to you, I'll lie." You blink up confused.

"But you said," "I know what I said, I lied so you'd let me in the door. They have no idea I'm here. They'd kill me if they found out I was pushing you to your decision." Placing the mug down, you stand feeling new energy as you lean over hugging Charles.

You two aren't close by any means, he found you.....indesicive, something he didn't like. Patting your back, he moves away, clearing his throat. "Well, bye." You smile at Charles back, as he slips out of your apartment.

Leaving the white envelope behind, taunting to you.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Shoulders cloaked in orange, you watched from a distance as he finishes his media duties for the day. You kept yourself hidden in the crowd, making sure you don't run into them.

Hiding from them like a child whose been punished, was ridiculous. They wanted to see you, you knew that from the mountain of texts Charles kept sending you.

They only reason he knew you're here was due to you using the plane ticket and pass he gave you last week. Gasping you step back into shadows as Lando turns, like he could feel someone watching him.

He's used to being watched, but this was different.

"What are you doing?" Every molecule in your body freezes. No, oh no, no, no. He wasn't supposed to find you, talk to you first. It's supposed to be you who does it. Instead, that smokey voice has you frozen. "Y/n?" He moves around, eyes watching for any signs of you running.

He knew you well, that when it gets too much you like to run. And he wasn't going to let that happen. Your eyes trail up, staring with his feet. Taking in those familiar jeans, up to that black belt, soaking in the bright red that does him wonders, to those full pouty lips, his nose that you loved so much, to those hazel eyes that scream at you.

When your eyes meet, he does something you never thought he would.

He kisses you. Without warning, without permission. Not even a second thought or decision, he simply kissed you because he couldn't think to do anything else. All the words he wanted to say, left him the moment you looked at him.

He just wanted to breathe again, to feel that weight leave his chest, allowing him to just.....breathe. Pulling away, is painful. He didn't want to ever be away from you again, eyes fluttering open you both stare at one another.

"Y/n?" Not again, not like this. Did he see? Did he care? Sliding your eyes over, you stare at those sea green eyes, the eyes you've dreamed about. But the ones you've craved are in front of you.

"Lando." You gasp, feeling air punch you in the stomach. "Maybe we should talk, in private." Carlos grounds out the last part, Lando stutters to a stop. Nodding his head, he spins walking away.

"Lan," Reaching out for him, Carlos pulls your hand down. "Stop, do you want everyone who just saw us kissing, pining over another driver. He's going to my hotel room." Carlos whispers, voice sharp.

"Right, you're right." Getting back your senses, Carlos leads you through the crowd, to his car and doesn't wait for you to buckle in, already driving off. "Why is he staying in your hotel room?" Trying to make conversation in the stiff silence.

"Because he's been crying himself to sleep with guilt that he's the reason we've broken up. Except he won't see that we're not done, just trying to figure out how to tell him we're both in love with him." Carlos grounds out, the blinker tinking away at the silence.

"You love him?" Carlos whips the car to the side, slamming down on the break. His once warm chocolate eyes are now black with anger. "Of course, I fucking love him, he's my best friend, a part of me that I never knew I had. When you two were together I didn't know which one of you to be jealous of. Him for, having you? Or you for having him? Four fucking years I was in hell." Carlos takes a breath, hands tightening on the steering wheel.

"Four fucking years, I felt like the worst human being for being in love with my best friend and his girlfriend. When you two broke up, it was like shards of glass in my throat. Then a bullet to the head when we....when we," He closes his eyes trying his best to calm down.

"When we started to date, I watched as I ripped out both your hearts. His because he didn't know what he did wrong, why you suddenly stopped loving him and loved me instead. And you, for the guilt of loving us both, when really I'm the villain." Carlos blinks fast, looking over at you. "I'm the bad guy, for loving you both, for craving you like air. And I have one of you, but it still hurts because, I don't think I can ever have both of you." He gasps, tears falling down his face.

Undoing your seat belt, you climb over the console into Carlos's lap. His arms wrap around you the moment your body touches his, holding you for dear life. "You're not the bad guy. You're our glue, if it wasn't for you pushing me to face my feelings. We'd be spiraling down, to where we'd burn everything down we love."

He hides his face in your neck, hands digging into your side, afraid that he'll lose you if he lets you go. "Carlos, we have to go, Lando." Sniffling he nods, letting you back to your seat, hand planted right on your leg as he starts the car again, heading to the hotel room.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So, wait." Lando shakes his head, all the information he's just given rattling him. "Let me get this straight," Taking a deep breath, you and Carlos watch as he starts to pace around the room.

"You broke up with me, 2 years ago because you felt guilty for loving Carlos and I? Only for you, a year later to date Carlos?" Pulling at his hair he stops in front of you two. "And you, have been in love with the both of us for years?" Lando asks, Carlos nods his head, not wanting to look at Lando.

"To add on, to this whole fucking mess. I had my heart broken by the two people I love more than fucking air, only for them to love me back and none of you had the GODDAMN BALLS TO TELL ME!" Lando roars, his anger finally getting the better of him.

Lando was never angry, annoyed? Yes, pissed? Yes, but angry enough to actually yell? A first. "Lando," You reach out for him, but he backs up. "Don't, I'm so.....I'm so angry at you." Licking your lips you watch as Lando's head spins.

"You fucked me up, do you get that? Both of you did. I came to your house, sobbing. Not crying, not sniffling, but sobbing Carlos. My world was shattered when she dumped me, and I came to you. My best friend, the one who...who....fuck!" Lando sits down on a chair, leg bouncing when he bolts back up.

He opens his mouth, like he has more to say, but closes it. He repeats this a couple of times, finally finding the words. "Do you have any idea what you two dating did to me? I felt....worthless, like you didn't love me enough, and that our friendship meant fucking nothing." He seethes "What.....what are you two even wanting from me? Forgiveness, to give you a clear mind? Because somehow I'm the one that'll have the broken heart." Carlos stands up, letting your hand fall away.

"No you goddamn muppet! If you listened to what I said, we both want you! I want you! Y/n wants you, we.....we...." Standing, your legs shake, placing a hand on Carlos's back you feel his heart calm down. "Lando, how do you feel about us?" Both boys stop, looking at you.

"What?" Lando spits, confused by your question. "How do you feel about us? It's not a simple question, I know. But, if you love us, truly love us, we want you too." Lando blinks, eyes moving back and forth between the two of you.

"How I feel? You're the love of my goddamn life. Carlos.......fuck, you're my safe space. The one I want to come too and hold when I don't know what to do. Just, you are my person." Lando snaps, his head hurting with all these emotions and thoughts.

The three of you stare at one another, not sure what the next step is. "What do we do now?" Lando whispers, falling back into the chair hands rubbing down his face. "Could always fuck." Carlos whispers, you swing back smacking him hard in the shoulder. "Read the damn room, Carlos." You hiss, Lando giggling. "Not a bad idea." He grumbles both boys nodding at one another.

"Stop, we're not sleeping with each other, just, I need a shower." Carlos smiles, pulling you in him, between his legs you blush. Lando moves right behind you, resting his head on your shoulder. "Alone you two, we need to take this slow." Carlos grumbles something in Spanish but nods, Lando says nothing.

You move away from them, slipping into the bathroom closing the door, leaving Carlos and Lando alone. "You're in love with me?" Carlos looks at Lando, the younger driver blushing. "Yes." Lando nods, watching his feet. "I should go." He whispers heading for the door, but Carlos's hand stops him.

"Don't be fucking stupid." Pulling Lando back, they fall against the bed, Lando's head resting on Carlos's chest. "Carlos, let me go." Squirming to get away from the strong hold of the Spaniard. "No, I let you go once, not doing it again." He mumbles into Lando's shoulder.

Lando stops fighting, he too was tired of fighting these feelings. The dreams of the two of you, the alcohol to numb the pain whenever he saw you. Lando was tired of it all, Carlos holding him still has his eyes squeeze tight.

His hand comes up, shaking as he tries to control the tears. He didn't want Lando to leave, and he wanted him. Carlos wanted him. "I'm not going anywhere; neither are you. I'll superglue your hand to mine if I have to." Carlos's words are soft, with a tinge of humor, but Lando doesn't laugh at the joke.

"Lonely, it was so lonely without you two." Carlos's heart snaps, he can't help but pull Lando closer into his hold. The two drivers say nothing more as the curl around one another.

Stepping out of the shower, it's silent to silent, especially for people known to laugh like maniacs when with one another. The towel is soft against your skim, peeking your head out the steam flows out of the gap.

Your stomach flips when you see Carlos and Lando on the bed, with no movement or whispers passing between them. They're asleep. With cautious steps, you slip on some underwear and one of Carlos's shirts.

"Carlos, move over." Pushing some thick curls out of his face, he groans. "Carlos, come on." You giggle, watching his eyes squeeze, nose twitching as he moves. Lando slurs some words, dry tears on his cheeks, and slides with Carlos. "Thank you." A ghost of your lips on his cheek has the corner of his lips turn up before relaxing.

Lying down, you watch their breaths and the day's events run in your mind. You knew it would take some time for Lando, Carlos, and you to recover from the hurt and secrets kept between the 3 of you. But at least you'd be doing it together.

"I love you, both of you so much."

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prettyboyeddiemunson · 7 months

Note

eddie making the catholic reader recite the 10 commandments he made for himself instead of the original ones omg

reader is 18+ in this fic, as in all other of my fics!

——

“say it again, y/n. and this time, don’t mess it up.”

she whines, her hands in his hair as he absolutely devours her pussy. she tries to find the words again but can’t, any coherent sentence she may have formed going out the window as soon as his lips envelop her clit. he moans against her, his eyes on her face, waiting for her to repeat what she just said. she swallows, moaning shakily as he laps at her inner lips. his skillful tongue massages each side slowly, as he gives her the opportunity to speak properly.

“i said,” she begins, brushing some hair from his eyes, “commandment number two. ‘you must take my name in vain, especially when being fucked like a slut.’”

“good girl,” eddie praises, shaking his head back and forth as she moans loudly. “tell me what commandment four is again.”

“d-dishonor…” she says, cut off as two of eddie’s ringed fingers push inside of her. “eddie!”

“no,” he says, withdrawing them and slapping her cunt, hard. “tell me what it is.”

she swallows back a mewl as eddie fingers her again, her legs shaking as he pumps them rapidly. he curls them around her sweet spot and she cries out, more wetness running onto his hand as his mouth settles over her clit again. he doesn’t take his eyes off of her, instead waiting patiently for what her response will be.

“‘dishonor & disobey your…your church and your school, and your…mmm…parents…’”

he slaps her pussy again, this time withdrawing his head as well. “say it the right way.” she whines, but does as he asks. “satisfied now?”

“no,” he says, rubbing two fingers through her wet pussy before pushing them inside of her. “not until you cum. are you gonna cum for me like a good girl, princess?”

“yes,” she breathes, her eyes on his as she begins to recite more commandments. “‘you shall not covet another man’s dick,’ ‘you must serve me every day,’ and ‘you shall not flirt with another.’”

“i didn’t even have to ask you that time,” he says, eating her out feverishly with a series of groans. “fuck, you taste so good, baby. so fucking sweet and wet for me.”

“gonna cum,” she says, bucking against his face as her thighs begin to quiver more violently around his head. “gonna…I can’t hold back…”

“then don’t,” he says, sucking her clit and swirling his tongue around it. “cum for me. make a mess all over my face, sweetheart.”

“want me to say another commandment?” she asks, tugging his hair harder.

“save them for a little bit,” he says. “just sit back and enjoy it now.”

and that’s exactly what she does. three of eddie’s fingers slide inside of her, fucking her roughly, while his mouth works magic on her swollen, soaking clit. his hair is in his face, his big brown eyes settling on hers, her thighs wrapped around his head. it doesn’t take much more to send her to orgasm, and she cums hard against his face & fingers as he keeps going through her high. he only stops when she’s signaled that she’s had enough, kissing his way up her body and stopping at her tits to kiss & suck on them.

“your boobs are the prettiest in the whole fucking world,” he breathes, sucking ravenously on a nipple before tugging it in his teeth. “i can never get enough.”

“just say you’re obsessed,” she teases, mewling as he kisses between them. “come here, i wanna kiss you now.”

“i’m so fucking obsessed with YOU,” he says, kissing up to her neck. he sucks a hickey there, biting lightly before coming up to kiss her lips. he kisses her passionately, full of so much love and lust. “i fucking love you.”

“I love you, too,” she says, flipping them over so that he’s on his back and she’s hovering over him. “ready to hear the rest of those commandments?”

“you know it,” he says, spanking her ass as she giggles. “you know the ones i want to hear.”

she hums thoughtfully, tossing her hair out of her face before leaning down to kiss his neck. “‘you shall not flock to someone who wants to steal what is mine.’”

“that’s right,” he breathes, moaning as she finds the sweet spot on his neck. she sucks, leaving an identical mark as was on hers. “that means harrington.”

“you don’t have to worry about him,” she says, nipping at his collarbones before kissing over his demon tattoo.

he pulls her head up roughly, forcing her to look at him. “be careful around him, y/n. i trust you, but I don’t trust him.”

“yeah, I know,” she says, licking his spider tattoo as she looks up at him. “I don’t wanna be thinking about him right now; it’ll put me out of the mood.”

“fair enough,” he says, holding her hair back as she sucks one of his pierced nipples into her mouth. “oh shit, baby…that’s so good.”

“commandment number eight,” she breathes, sucking his nipple as she swirls it with her tongue. “‘you shall tell everyone who you belong to and who your true god is.’”

“that’s fucking right,” he says, moaning as she sucks his nipple harder. “christ, you’re such a blasphemous little thing, aren’t you?”

“you made me that way,” she says, winking at him as she gave his other nipple the same treatment. “it’s all your fault.”

“tell me who your god is, y/n,” he says, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look at him. “look me in the eye and tell me.”

“you,” she breathes, pulling his thumb into her mouth and sucking as he groans. “eddie munson.”

“good fucking girl,” he says, gently patting her cheek. “go on. worship my dick, the way i always like.”

she kisses down his body until she’s on her knees between his legs. she slowly licks a stripe from his balls to the tip of his throbbing, flushed erection, making eye contact as she does so. his breath catches, one arm behind his head as he props himself better against his pillows. he watches as she kisses his shaft, sloppy, open mouthed kisses that leave him breathless. she jerks him off as she sucks on his balls, her eyes on him as she does so. he whines, bucking up into her touch as she licks the outline of his vein.

“commandment number one,” she says, sucking on his tip and swirling her tongue around the slit. “‘you shall worship me and only me. There is no other god that you may drop to your knees for.’”

and with that, she spits on his dick and takes him into her mouth. eddie moans, both hands coming down to settle in her hair as she takes all of him down her throat. she gags, but quickly gets her reflex under control. she begins to bob her head, jerking him off slowly as she brings her head up. his breath is coming in ragged pants, his head tipped back and eyes half-closed as he takes in everything she’s doing. her mouth is divine, and the sight of her like that is one of the sexiest he’s ever seen. he wishes the camera were handy; he had photos like that already of her, but he always wanted more.

“that’s it, baby,” he praises, moaning breathlessly as she hollows her cheeks. “worship me, like a good fucking girl.”

she gags again, and the sounds of a blowjob quickly fill the room. eddie watches her, thrusting up on occasion, and holding her hair out of her face so that he can see her. she hollows her cheeks further, her tongue playing with his tip every time she brings her head up while she jacks him off. when she needs a moment, she pops off, but keeps pumping his thick cock in her fist.

“the last two,” she pants, lining her breasts up with his cock before rubbing them against it. she places his dick between them, squeezing her tits around it before encouraging him to thrust. “‘you shall not cheat’ and ‘you shall not commit any indecent act with another.’ bet you wouldn’t want me to give steve a titty fuck, would you?”

“don’t wanna think about him right now,” he said, moaning as she pressed her breasts even tighter against his aching, needy cock. “right now, I just wanna paint those pretty tits in cum.”

“do it,” she said. “maybe i’ll even say a few hail mary’s while you do it.”

“if you do that, i’ll cum right now,” he said, thrusting upward as he fucked her tits. “i swear to god.”

“hail mary, full of grace,” she began. “the lord is with thee. blessed art thou amongst women—“

but that’s as far as she got before eddie is cumming, hard and fast, all over her chest. she moans her appreciation, drawing back to gather some of it on her fingers. she pops them into her mouth, groaning at the taste and deep throating them. eddie mewls, pulling her up for a hard kiss as he pushes her onto her back. he smirks down at her after breaking the kiss, pinning her wrists to the mattress as he hums.

“what should I do with you now, princess?” he asks, seeming to ponder the question. “maybe i could teach you another prayer.”

“or maybe,” she says, trying to fight out of his grip as she smirks, “you could worship ME again.”

“oh yeah?” he asks, dragging her to the end of the bed and kneeling between her open legs again. “i think I like the sound of that. wanna recite the act of contrition, baby? and you can’t mess it up.”

“or what?” she asks, raising a brow.

“or i’ll have to bend you over and spank you,” he says, pulling her wet cunt to his face and beginning to devour her once more.

——-

mini taglist: @littledemondani @andvys @wroteclassicaly @succubusmunson @eddieschains @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @sunkillerdreamer @impulsive-th0ts @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer @hideoutside

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson blurb

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angelstate · 5 months

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/angelstate/739071604138688512/husbandprice-x-wifereader-captain-price-isnt-a this really remote of the song Wondering Why by The Red Clay Strays!

omg you're so right!! this song represents their story so well!!

Husband!Price definitely came from a more struggling family, with his father working a Manual/Physical labor and her mother working as a social worker when he was a kid to feed his family. he attended public school in one of the most dangerous parts of London.

Meanwhile, you came from an upper-middle class family, your dad being a successful businessman and your mother a housewife, attending a Catholic School, and going to church every Sunday.

Price loves you a lot and admires the relationship you have with God even though he isn't a really religious man himself, mainly because of his line of work and seeing the evils of the world every day.

he thinks you're the prettiest woman to ever walk on earth and that is the only proof he has that the God her pretty little wife worships is real, because no one can be so perfect without divine intervention.

He values you a lot and loves you more than words can describe, and he wonders what he did in his past life to have the opportunity to call you his wife, his companion, his guide, his fan, his everything.

Price considers himself a lucky man for being loved by you, for having you accept him the way he is and praise him for the sacrifices he makes in his job, risking his sanity and life every day, doing immoral things while having you, an angel waiting for him to come back to make him pure again with your touch.

Like I said, he isn't a religious man but your simple existence confirms him there must be something bigger out there that was kind enough to bless the world and himself with you, you're like an angel walking amongst sinners, saving them (especially him) and loving every person you encounter like they are worth everything the world has to offer.

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wildmrmix · 1 month

Text

Shut up shut up shut up I’m actually thinking about the mlp au. This is not how i expected to spend my night, jesus 😭

Saying stuff below the cut cause I hate having super long texts on my blog if I can shorten them

So!! In G4 mlp, unicorns were the super pretty ones, with jewelry and honestly who didn’t grow up being told unicorns were beautiful. However!! In G5, it’s the pegasi that are seen as beautiful with their fluffy/ elegant wings. I want Soda to be the prettiest dude ever so I’m debating between the two. It would also likely decide which ones Darry and Ponyboy would be. I’m leaning towards pegasi honestly, cause: Darry could use his wings while working on roofs and Pb could use it for track. So Curtis bros are probably decided. Maybe Mrs. Curtis was an earth pony and she met Mr. Curtis when he moved down from Cloudstale (though it’ll depend on the generation this will be set in)

Dally changeling is so interesting to me I’m sorry. Like the concept of feeding off other peoples love and shapeshifting into anything is something i feel fits Dally??? Like, maybe New York was the hive, and he somehow escaped and is living off chaos. Literally. He picks up broads to feed off their love, then moves onto the next one. Idk if he’d get the redeem transformation. Maybe when he goes to help Pony and Johnny with the church fire? If i have that? Or maybe he’s able to find some kind of alternative so he’s not just starving all the time. Or maybe he’s a hippogriff that moved away from Mount Aris

I’m kinda 50/50 on my changeling Shepard siblings idea. I think they’d be good as ponies. Maybe unicorns and they use their magic to get away with stuff. Unicorns in G4 can only study one kind of magic relating to their cutie mark (unless their cutie mark is magic, ex: Twilight Sparkle and Starlight Glimmer), so maybe they learn their own stuff. Maybe they use unconventional spells or mix stuff together to get outcomes that appeal to them and nobody else

I think earth pony Two-Bit would be fun, y’know, give him the world bending powers of Pinkie Pie and set him free. Lotsa earth ponies seem to work on farms or food growing jobs, likely because of how close they are with nature in comparison to the other pony species, so they’re generally physically stronger. So maybe Two-Bit is a mix of the two, strong and silly. He loves to make people laugh and he’s able to deliver a mean kick

Earth pony Steve interests me as well. Maybe his dad’s a pegasus/ unicorn but his mother wasn’t and he was born an earth pony. Maybe his dad found it pathetic that his son was plain or something. Maybe Steve threw himself into anything he could to prove his dad wrong. Maybe he’s unnaturally good at stuff, cutie mark assistance or otherwise. He has magic flowing through him, but not enough to be recognized as a unicorn, more like extreme luck in things?

I think pegasus Johnny would be neat. He’d sleep on clouds to try and avoid his parents, and then maybe that’s how he met Ponyboy or Dally (as changelings can fly too). His parents still hate him, but he doesn’t feel like someone completely useless since pegasi have a lot of natural perks. Like sleeping on clouds, being able to create tornadoes with enough speed, the ability to make a sonic rainboom, etc. He has all this, yet he’s still a blank flank. It haunts him, the fact that he’s apparently good at nothing. That he somehow still hasn’t found his calling. It eats at him constantly, but he’s learnt to live with it. To walk with his wings covering his flank as a way to hide what isn’t there from the world. Maybe he ain’t too good at flying, maybe during the jumping that super traumatized him in the book, the socs messed up his wings, and now he can’t exactly fly right or for too long?

#the outsiders aus #the outsiders mlp au #idk if this will make sense tomorrow but i just couldn’t stop thinking about it #sodapop curtis #darry curtis #ponyboy curtis #dallas winston #tim shepard #angela shepard #curly shepard #two bit mathews #steve randle #johnny cade #the outsiders

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dark-elf-writes · 3 months

Note

I have no clue anything about ff but where is the ‘Harry gets adopted by FF7 characters and finds out what a family should be” au

No one is more surprised than me that I haven’t written this yet tbh like who am I????

ANYWAY

Little Harry who has heard a woman’s voice from a young age telling him that he is not alone, that he is not a freak, that he will be loved and cared for more than he could ever know. He always hears her more when he is working in his Aunt Petunia’s garden. Can practically feel her in the way the plants bloom more beautifully than anywhere else on their street. His invisible friend that helps him find what little beauty he can in his world.

And sometimes she talks about her friends. About a woman who is as strong as she is kind, who loves freely but took no shit, who welcomed those with good intentions with open arms and threw anyone without them out on their arse. About a ninja with sticky fingers and the blood of a princess who would give anything for her people and have fun every step of the way. About a father who demanded the world to change for his little girl and decided to be the push that set it all in motion. About an inventor trapped in the place he should have been able to do good but unable to make anyone listen so he sent his inventions out to make change for him. About a pilot who was grounded against his will and decided to make those that would clip his wings choke on that decision. About a man who was only doing his job and was hurt over and over again for doing the right thing and who learned slowly that the things done to him did not make him a monster.

About a hero that led them all, each of them broken and shattered in their own ways, into a better world.

Harry liked the stories of the hero the best.

Then one day things get bad and Uncle Vernon gets far more angry than he normally is. Harry runs to the garden, hoping somehow that his friend, his only friend, could save him, and she does.

In a space that is more light and glowing green energy than any “world” should be, he sees her for the first time, softly smiling and reaching out to rub her fingers through his hair. She is the prettiest lady he has ever seen. Another voice laughs when he tells her so and a big man with kind eyes, a scar on his face, and hair just as wild as Harry’s grins at him as he announces that “this kid knows what he’s talking about.”

She smiles though there is something sad in her eyes when she speaks.“I can send you somewhere that will help for a time, but eventually you will have to come back. This planet is quite certain that it needs you in the future.”

Harry wants to cry, wants to scream. How does he have to go back! He doesn’t want to.

But something else sticks with him, something that makes him hurt before he even realizes what it was.

“Send me somewhere. Not us?” Not his friend who had told him so many stories and helped him grow flowers? Not this pretty lady and the man with such a kind smile? After everything he would still be alone?

It’s the man’s hand that lands in his hair this time, a comforting weight as he ruffles the tangled locks. “Spike and the others will be waiting for you on the other side. They’ll take good care of you. SOLDIER’s honor.”

Harry doesn’t understand, can’t understand really but “You’re my friend,” he tells the woman, frustrated tears gathering in his eyes. He doesn’t have the words to say anything more. To name the swirling mass of hurt and yearning in his stomach.

She seems to understand smiling sadly at him again before she leans down to press a kiss to his forehead. “You’ll still be able to hear me. More clearly than most I think. I will not leave you Harry Potter.”

Harry Potter is seven years old when he goes missing from the backyard of his Aunt’s house in a swirl of green light. He is seven years old when he wakes up in a shallow pool of water in a church that has seen better days with a man with wild blond hair and shining blue eyes watching him in stunned silence. He is seven years old when his first friend sends him to his hero for safety.

#the elf talks #ff7 #harry potter #help this grew legs and now I have T H O U G H T S

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hearts-hunger · 1 year

Text

four weddings and a funeral — part two

Read on AO3 | Masterlist | Series Playlist ♫

⮡ part one

Series Summary:You and Danny haven’t spoken in years. When the two of you stumble upon a week of weddings, funerals, and the hotel rooms in between, will fate rekindle your friendship or put the old flames out altogether?

Chapter Summary: Seeing him at a funeral was strange enough. Running into him again at a wedding the next day... no, you don't believe in fate. Do you?

Pairings: Danny Wagner x Reader | Genres: friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff, mutual pining | Word Count: 4.2k | Chapter Warnings: drinking, one (1) icky coworker

A/N: Two chapters in two days? On my blog? More likely than you think, apparently. This chapter is 99% fluff, I'm not sorry. I hope you like it! ♡

Danny didn’t text you again that night, and you didn’t see a text from him when you woke up the next morning. You reminded yourself that he was busy and he’d done you the courtesy of telling you he would be, but it didn’t stop you from catastrophizing and thinking that his interest in meeting again was all some sort of elaborate joke he was playing on you. You didn’t think he would do that, but then again, what did you really know of him now?

You hadn’t said so, embarrassingly willing to change your plans at a moment's notice, but you had a busy few days ahead of you too. The day after the funeral, one of your coworkers was getting married; the next day, you’d been invited to your cousin’s destination wedding in North Carolina. If you were honest with yourself, you knew you would have skipped both weddings to be with Danny, but you decided to go ahead with your plans until you heard from him. What sort of self-respecting woman would you be if you waited around the house for a man to text you back, even if he was the prettiest man you’d ever laid eyes on?

Still, you couldn’t help yourself; you put on Anthem of the Peaceful Army as you got ready for your coworker's wedding, paying special attention to the drums in each song.

When you felt you were sufficiently dolled up in your floral green tea dress, you took one last glance in the mirror and headed out. It was a morning wedding with a brunch reception afterwards, and you figured you’d probably take your leave after congratulating the happy couple and having a mimosa or two.

At the church, you were ushered into an aisle near the back on the bride’s side. The old wooden pew creaked with every movement, and muted voices filled up the quiet of the stone building.

“Well. Fancy seeing you here, sunshine.”

You whirled around and found yourself greeted by Danny’s familiar, heart-tilting smile.

“What are you doing here?” you demanded in a whisper. You tried not to get too distracted by his half-up, half-down hairstyle that gave him a very sweet look in his smart tweed blazer.

“You want me to leave?” he teased.

“No, I...” You followed him with your gaze as he came to sit with you, feeling a blush rise to your face as you felt his warmth and became aware of just how broad he was next to you.

“You’re not stalking me, are you?” you said, only half joking.

He smiled. “Maybe you’re stalking me.” He fiddled with the wedding program. “Who gets married at ten in the morning?”

You agreed that it was a little early for your tastes, especially while you were on school break, but you were too busy figuring out how you could have coincidentally run into him twice in as many days at the weirdest possible events.

“Are you here for the bride or the groom?” you asked.

“The groom. I knew him in high school before he moved here.”

“You mean to tell me that a guy you knew in high school is getting married to one of my coworkers?” you asked.

Danny grinned. “Small world, isn’t it?”

It was crazy. It was unbelievable. It was... fate, maybe, just like he’d said yesterday.

You shook your head, clearing it of that particular fanciful thought.

He leaned back, propping his ankle on his knee, stretching his arm out behind you on the back of the pew. You pressed a surreptitious hand to your cheek, feeling a red-hot blush at his closeness, his arm bracketing you against him, his knee brushing yours. Against your better judgment, you felt a kind of schoolgirl thrill at his display.

“Shouldn’t you be sitting on the groom’s side?” you asked. The groom and his party were getting set up at the front of the church, each of them dapper to the man.

“I don’t think so,” Danny said seriously. “Somebody else might sit next to you, and then I’d have to punch his lights out, and then I’d get us both kicked out of your coworker’s wedding. You’d never live that one down.”

You laughed, covering your mouth with your hand to try and keep quiet. Danny only smiled at you.

“Are you staying for the reception?” he asked.

“I think so,” you said. “It’s supposed to be brunch, and there’s very little that could get me to pass up free brunch.”

He hummed in agreement. “Wise lady.”

He handed you the program when you held your hand out for it. “Did you bring my jacket?”

“Why would I have brought your jacket, Danny?” you asked with a smile. “I would have thought it more likely to get killed by a meteor on the way here than to see you at this wedding.”

He laughed. “Where do you come up with this stuff, sunshine?”

You liked that you’d made him laugh, perhaps a bit too much. You bit your lip and tried to tear your gaze away from his smile.

Thankfully, everyone’s attention was pulled to the back of the church when the pianist started to play. You stood, Danny steadying you with a gentlemanly hand to your arm.

“Oh, she looks beautiful,” you said in a hushed voice when you saw the bride coming down the aisle. You’d never seen your fellow teacher look so lovely and so radiant.

Danny nudged you gently. “Look at him.”

You turned to see the groom, and you couldn’t help but smile when you saw how happy and very near tears he was at seeing his bride.

“He loves her,” Danny said quietly, and his voice was warm with affection. “It’s plain as day on his face. That’s the look of his best and longest love.”

You looked up at Danny, endeared and wondering at such a plainly romantic thought from a man.

“What do you know about best and longest loves?” you asked.

He smiled over at you. “I don’t know, sunshine. What do you know about them?”

You looked away then, too drawn to him for your own good. Something in you didn’t want him to know that the idea of a best and longest love was completely foreign to you, something you’d long since given up on having.

When the bride joined the groom at the front, the pastor asked the congregation to join in singing a hymn. There was only one hymnal in your pew, and Danny stooped a little and looked over your shoulder so you could share.

Morning has broken, the first verse read, like the first morning.

“Isn’t this... a Cat Stevens song?” you asked quietly, feeling a little foolish for thinking so.

Danny chuckled, his breath warm against your skin.

“It was originally a hymn,” he said. “But yes, you’re correct. Cat Stevens did cover it on his album Teaser and the Firecat.”

You turned to meet his eyes and found he was closer than you’d thought. Your noses bumped together, and he scrunched his in a playful wince.

“Sorry,” you whispered, trying not to giggle while everybody else was singing.

He smiled. “That’s okay,” he whispered back.

Both of you looked back to the hymnal, and you were determined to focus on singing like everybody else. How hard could it be?

Danny started to sing, and you were helpless not to look back at him, drawn to his voice like a flower opening to the sun. Every note was beautiful, smooth and warm like maple syrup and twice as sweet. You felt something ache in your chest as you listened to him and watched his expression.

He didn’t take his eyes off the hymnal. “Sing with me, sunshine.”

You thought you might be able to hear your heart break if you listened close enough.

“Okay,” you said, very soft.

His mouth tipped up in a gentle smile when you started to sing, and he skillfully eased his voice up until he was singing harmony with you. For a moment, there was nobody else in the world but you two, and there was nothing else you’d rather do than sing with him.

Then, before you were ready, the song came to an end. You and Danny sat together, closer to each other than you needed to be, and you tried to keep your attention on the ceremony.

“Sunny.”

You looked over at the whispered nickname. Your breath caught in your chest at the sight of him; rosy light from the stained glass window shone all around him, shades of pink and blue and gold dancing in his curls and catching in his eyes.

He pressed a small piece of paper into your hand, one of those pew cards people filled out to get in touch with the church.

I like your dress, it read in his slightly messy handwriting. It’s very pretty.

You blushed, not quite able to meet his eyes. You mouthed a thank you.

He smiled and nudged you a little, wanting you to write him back. He handed you the golf pencil he’d taken from the back of the pew.

Thank you, you wrote back. I think you look rather dapper.

He read it and gave an amused roll of his eyes. He scrawled another message back to you.

Thank you - I didn’t mean to guilt you into complimenting me, LOL. I just wanted you to be my pen pal.

You breathed a laugh and drew a smiley face next to his note. Then, tell me a good Cat Stevens song.

He nodded sagely and took the pencil back from you.

The boy with a moon and star on his head, he wrote. That's a great one.

You drew a stick figure with a moon and star on its forehead. Danny drew another stick figure holding hands with yours, this one with the swirly hair usually indicative of a girl.

You pointed to the one he’d drawn, then to him, then to you. With his long, pretty curls, who could tell whether he’d meant it to be him or you?

He smiled. He drew big cartoony muscles on the boy with the moon and star on his head, and it made you laugh.

You didn’t know how long you’d expected the ceremony to be, but it felt no longer than a few minutes with Danny beside you scrawling notes to amuse you. He flipped the paper over and drew something with more focus than a doodle needed, the tip of his tongue held between his teeth; you barely heard the vows being exchanged at the front of the church, so intent were you on simply looking at the boy next to you.

He showed you his drawing when he was done: it was the stick figure couple in three scenes, one with a coffin in the background, one with champagne flutes in hand, one with both of them shrugging and a giant question mark looming in the background.

You drew the girl giving a jacket back to the boy. Danny smiled and drew the boy with a thumbs up.

When the bride and groom were pronounced man and wife, you and Danny stood as they came down the aisle hand in hand. You saw Danny slip the paper into his inside jacket pocket, close to his heart, and you tried not to overthink it very much.

“Shall we get some brunch?” he asked, offering you his arm as the rest of the guests started to file out.

You felt a little bashful as you looped your arm with his. “We shall, my good sir.”

The reception was a short walk away in the old, beautifully preserved hall adjacent to the church. Danny found a table for the two of you and excused himself to get mimosas for both of you, clinking his glass against yours when he returned.

“To the happy couple,” he said. “May they live in a beautiful stick house and have lots of stick figure children.”

You laughed, feeling as bubbly as the champagne in your drink.

You and Danny talked as the rest of the guests milled around during the cocktail hour, and you joined in the toast when the bride and groom came in from taking pictures. You both went straight for the waffle bar when brunch started, like-minded in the swirls of whipped cream on both your plates.

“We’re going for blueberries, of course,” he said, reaching across you to get to the fruit.

“Blueberries?” you protested. You reached across his arm. “No way. Raspberries are the obvious answer here.”

“Just try some with your waffle,” he said, spooning some blueberries onto your plate. “Trust me.”

“Fine,” you said, giving him a scoop of raspberries. “Trust me, too.”

“You’re a handful, you know that?” he teased.

You hummed in agreement. “A handful of raspberries, maybe.”

He grinned, and you decided that if given the chance, you’d probably, unfortunately, enjoy spending the rest of your life making him smile like that.

Back at your table, you both grudgingly agreed that the other’s choice in fruit wasn’t so bad. Every so often, one of Danny’s old friends or one of your coworkers would come over and say hello; you told each other the details of your relationships with each person as they left your table.

“That’s Mrs. Kline,” you said, leaning close to Danny to keep from being overheard as the second grade teacher walked off. “She’s a basket case.”

Danny almost choked on his coffee. He recovered with slightly strained laughter.

“You don’t pull your punches, do you, sunny?”

You smirked. “I’m right, though. Work one day with her and you’ll agree with me.”

You were about to tell him one of your more entertaining stories about Mrs. Kline when you caught sight of someone coming towards you with eager, undivided focus.

“Oh, shit,” you whispered. “Uh, Danny? I need you to be my boyfriend.”

“Okay,” he agreed easily. You would have blushed if you hadn’t been dreading the arrival of your awful coworker so much, trying to think of how to make the interaction as quick and painless as possible.

“Scott!” you said, unable to help the way you pitched your voice up to sound more feminine and cheerful. Danny glanced at you with a bemused frown, but he caught on when Scott came up to your table.

“I’m glad to see you’re here,” Scott said, all but ignoring Danny in favor of looking at you with an avid interest. “I’ve been wanting to spend some time together outside of school.”

Danny put his arm over the back of your chair. “You two work together, is that right?” he asked.

Scott seemed surprised that Danny had spoken.

“That’s right,” he said. “We work closely together.”

You cringed inwardly. “Scott’s the technical aide in the office,” you explained.

“I keep everything running smoothly around there,” Scott said importantly.

Danny gave him a cool smile. “I’m sure you do.”

Scott gave Danny a look of poorly concealed disdain.

“And who are you?” he asked. “You’re not a new hire, are you?”

“Oh, no,” Danny assured him. You almost wished he’d tell Scott he was a world-famous, fabulously wealthy rockstar, but you knew he was too humble even in a situation like this to do so.

“Well, I’d love to talk to her for a while,” Scott said, obviously dismissing Danny and speaking about you like you had no choice in the matter. “Work things, you know.”

Danny gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze, assuring you he wasn’t going to leave. You hadn’t worried he would leave you at the mercy of your arrogant coworker, but the reassurance was a welcome comfort all the same.

“You’re on spring break, aren’t you?” Danny asked, pointed but just polite enough to leave Scott fuming. “Gotta be nice to have a week or so where you don't have to worry about work stuff, right?”

“I suppose,” he ground out.

Danny smiled. “Great.” He looked to you. “You wanted to get some pictures under the flower arch, right, honey?”

You managed a feeble smile and tried to play along. “I did. Thank you for remembering.”

Danny stood and offered you a hand up.

“Good talking to you, Scott,” he said, effectively cutting off any further conversation and letting you go ahead of him to make your escape outside. You glanced over your shoulder to see Scott looking stunned that anyone had dared to interrupt the time he felt he was owed with you, but you were grounded with the touch of Danny’s hand at the small of your back.

“Come on, sunshine,” he said.

He led you outside to where a beautiful flower arch had been set up for picture-taking. You breathed a sigh of relief to be free of Scott and turned to thank Danny for his help.

“I’m sorry if I handled that stupidly,” Danny said, before you’d even had the chance to start speaking. The cool, confident mask he’d worn when talking to Scott was now gentled by concern and remorse.

“I didn’t mean to take over and talk for you,” he said. “I was just trying to help, but maybe I made it worse.”

You softened and came closer to him.

“I was glad you talked to him for me,” you admitted. “I wouldn’t have known what to say. I always end up being more polite and agreeable than I ought to be with him, even when he gets pushy.”

The breeze pushed a lock of hair across your face; he reached and gently tucked it behind your ear.

“You shouldn’t let him or anybody else treat you like that,” he said. “But I understand that it might be intimidating to stand up to him. I’m sorry he’s disrespectful to you.”

You gave him a weak smile. “Thank you. And thank you for your help. You’re a very good actor.”

He smiled. “The best acting comes from the heart, you know.”

You felt your cheeks warm. “So I’ve heard.”

Pulling your phone out of your bag, you turned towards the flower arch. “We might as well get some pictures while we’re out here, don’t you think?”

“Sure, sunny.”

You gestured for him to stand in front of it and pulled up your camera.

Danny’s brow raised. “Me?”

You smiled. “Yes, you. Surely you’re familiar with getting your picture taken, mister big-time.”

He gave you a dry smile and went to stand in front of the arch like you directed. His expression relaxed into a handsome smile as he stood with the ease of someone who was, in fact, very comfortable in front of a camera.

“You like doing photoshoots, don’t you?” you teased. It was a great picture, Danny all dressed up in front of the gorgeous arch of peach roses and silver dollar eucalyptus. “I feel like some rock stars do and some don’t, and you’re one of the ones who do.”

He shrugged, a telling smile tipping the corner of his mouth. “Maybe.”

You couldn’t exactly blame him; if you were as photogenic as Danny, you’d probably like getting your picture taken too.

“Do another pose,” you said. “Let’s get a good one for the secret instagram you post all your dorky pictures on.”

He didn’t have the chance to deliver a witty comeback before he buried his face against the crook of his arm and sneezed once, twice, three times.

“‘Scuse me,” he said when he’d recovered, his voice a little hoarse.

“Bless you,” you said. “Times three. That’s not a very good pose, though.”

He chuckled. “No, probably not.” He stepped out from under the arch and came to your side again.

“You okay?” you asked, noticing his eyes were a little glassy.

He hummed in agreement. “The roses,” he said. “No big deal.”

“Danny!” you scolded. “You should have said something! I wouldn’t have tortured you by making you take pictures under a gigantic bunch of roses if I’d known you were deathly allergic to them.”

He smiled, already starting to look better now that he was a few paces away from the arch.

“You’re awfully dramatic, sunshine. You know that, right?”

You waved him off. “Fine,” you said airily. “Keel over dead if you want.”

He took your phone from you. “Go. Your turn.”

You stood in front of the arch and fluffed out the bell of your dress. “So, you’re saying I shouldn’t bring you roses as a thank you for letting me borrow your jacket?”

“You mean for letting you steal my jacket?” he teased. “No, you shouldn’t get me roses. Not unless you’ve got some Benadryl hidden in that dress of yours.”

You laughed, and he took a picture right as you did. “Keep laughing like that, sunny.”

“Keep amusing me, Daniel,” you said tartly.

He grinned as he took another picture. “Actually, I take it back. I like this sassy look. You’re like a scary flower goddess or something.”

You couldn’t help but laugh again. “That’s the most interesting compliment I think I’ve ever gotten, Danny.”

“My pleasure,” he said. He took a few last pictures. “Here. Come see if you like them.”

You stood on your tiptoes and hung on his arm to see. “Oh, those are wonderful. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said sweetly. “Though I admit, it’s not very hard to take a good picture when what you’re photographing is so lovely.”

Your smile was wry. “I bet you say that to all the ladies.”

“Only for you,” he said. He traced an x over his heart. “Cross my heart, sunshine.”

You enjoyed the breezy spring day for a little while longer before you went back inside, getting to your seats again just in time to see the bride and groom share a donut from their tiered donut “cake”. You got one for you and Danny to share too, and you spent way too long fantasizing about kissing the sugar off his fingertips.

“So, sunshine.” Danny cradled his coffee cup in one big hand. “I have a proposition for you.”

You waggled your brows. “Oh, is that so?”

He laughed. “Not that kind of proposition,” he corrected. “A proposition about our coffee date.”

Despite the fun you’d had with him today, you still felt the tiniest sting of embarrassment at the reminder that you’d asked him out and not gotten a wholehearted “yes”.

“Did we decide we were having a coffee date?” you asked, trying for nonchalance.

His smile was gentle and a little apologetic.

“I know I didn’t give you the answer you wanted,” he said. “It wasn’t the answer I wanted, either.”

He leaned his elbows on the table. “This wedding was one of the things I was trying to cram in this week,” he said. “And I would have invited you, but I was worried you might have thought it was weird to have a date at a wedding. Luckily, you were here anyway, and we did have a date at a wedding, and you still want to go out with me again. Maybe.”

You smiled. “Maybe.”

He grinned back. “So, if that’s the case, I’d like to propose another wedding date this week.”

No way, you thought. “Is it tomorrow?” There was no way you could both unknowingly be invited to the same wedding again.

He shook his head. “It’s the day after,” he said, and you were a little relieved to know the two of you hadn’t stumbled into a glitch in the matrix.

“Why?” he asked. “Are you only free tomorrow?”

You laughed a little. “No, I actually have another wedding too. I’m flying out tonight.”

You met his eyes, an insane idea occurring to you. He watched your face with a growing smile.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I have kind of a crazy idea,” you said.

He nodded. “Hit me.”

“Well...” You toyed with the handle of your coffee cup. You wanted to invite him, but airfare wouldn’t be cheap the day of.

“It might be expensive,” you admitted.

“That’s not a problem,” he said. He pinked a little. “I mean, I’m not trying to be crass or arrogant, but... you don’t have to be worried about that.”

You found his bashfulness endearing, even if the thought of how much money he made had your head spinning a little.

“Well, in that case,” you said, trying to play it cool and not let on how much you wanted him to come, “I’d like to invite you to be my plus one for this wedding tomorrow. If... if you’d like to come.”

He beamed.

“I’d love to,” he said sincerely. “If you’ll come to the other wedding the day after as my plus one.”

“My flight back from the first wedding isn’t until the afternoon,” you warned.

He considered that. “The second wedding starts at 6:30,” he said. “And it’s about half an hour from here. When does your flight land?”

“Three,” you said.

He shrugged. “Up to you. I’m game if you are.”

You couldn’t believe you were even considering this. Yesterday morning, you'd been worried that most of your spring break would be spent being home alone; now, here you were, about to agree to a whirlwind couple of days of weddings, late-night partying, and Danny.

You gave him a helpless smile. “Okay.”

He grinned. “Yeah? You want to do this?”

Oh, but with his contagious excitement and that beaming smile, it was far too easy to say yes to him.

“Yeah,” you agreed. “Let’s do this.”

Read part three!

danny taglist: @tearsofbri @busybeingtrash @myway-late @gotavansleep @gretavanbri

fic taglist: @mydarlingdanny @streamsofstardust

gvf taglist: @malany-gvf @spark-my-nature

@gvfrry @ohhey1293 @the-chaotic-cow @mountain-in-springtime @xserenax-13 @stardustjtk @brooke-gvf @weightofdreams-gvf @jakeydoesit @gretasmokerising @hayley1623 @doodle417 @finestoflines @brokenbellz @bowievanfleet @s0livagant @strugglingtodoshit @s-u-t @kay-jordan @gretavanfleas @jakeyboiiiiiii @gretavansteph @gretavanbitches @myownparadise96 @luverleaver @weightofdreamz @greatervanfleet @maedesculpaeusoubi @jakekiszkasbestie @pineapple-photographer @baguettejuliette @alexxavicry @levi-wants-ur-bones @carlybubs @cowboysamkiszka @dannyandthekiszkas @jordierama @slutforsteve @starshine-wagner

sorry if tumblr didn’t tag you — it’s stupid sometimes. but i’m real thankful for you, sweet peaches! and if you’re a new bestie and would like to be added to my taglist, check out the form right here!

#danny wagner x reader #danny wagner fluff #danny wagner fanfiction #greta van fleet fluff #gvf fanfiction #gvf fluff #danny wagner #greta van fleet #maddie writes stuff!#four weddings and a funeral fic

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kelandrin · 6 months

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Hello! I’m Atlas (any pronouns are fine). This is my bg3 blog. It is 18+ so minors DNI. I like pretty much every ship and will reblog most content. I am always interested in how other people interpret characters and parts of the game, even if those interpretations don’t make it into my own head canons. Slowly putting together a list of my Tavs and Durges! I also post daily Tav Questions. All my dividers are by @cafekitsune !

Jan 22-29 Strike for Palestine: I am refraining from participating in the economy for the strike this week. If you cannot stop going to work or school, check out other ways you can strike by checking out this post here. More ways to support the victims here. Animal rescue donations here.

Ask Games

Tav Ask Game and Durge Ask Game. Not-so-nice Ask Game.

You can also send me your favorite pairing and I will say my favorite thing about it (you can also request my least favorite thing) tag: #multiship ask

You can submit your own Tav Questions!

Send me your Tav details and I will tell you how my Tavs would react to them!

Fic Masterlist

BG3 Character Profiles

Atlas - (he/him) Tiefling Paladin who is romancing Wyll. He can be a touch ornery but ultimately a good person. He was raised by a warlock on a farm on the edge of Rivington.

Kelandrin - (he/him) Drow Durge Paladin who is romancing Astarion. He is very evil, obsessive, and has a skewed concept of “love.” The only form of love he knows is religious submission.

Mavrin - (he/they) Half-Elf Durge Sorcerer who is romancing Gale. He is very troubled by his urge and hates feeling out of control of his body and mind.

Kalan - (he/they) Drow/elf ranger who is romancing Halsin. Says he doesn’t have a daddy complex but like…

Xyrra - (she/they/he) Lythari druid in lore but just plain elf druid in game. Romancing Shadowheart but it hard since Xyrra shapeshifts into a wolf.

Natlia - (she/her) Tiefling sorcerer/bard who is romancing Karlach. She starts off with a cynical streak because her fiancée was murdered and the Flaming Fist didn’t do jack to find his killer. She learns to move forwards over the course of the game.

Livna - (she/her) Drow durge monk who is romancing Lae’zel. She is looking for her next physical high all the time.

Vald - (he/him) Drow durge hexblade warlock who is romancing Minthara. He is very loyal by nature and easily molded by more dominant personalities.

Mutuals & Their Tavs

🚧 ⚠️ 🏗️ Sorry in advance if I missed anyone some people show up as following only on one blog etc. just @ me if I messed up or if I have any wrong tav info!

@tavsboots Velric - (he/him) Tiefling Fighter/warlock who is romancing Astarion and has the most beautiful beard. I'm sorry he was a PIRATE??? That is sick as hell.

@koalamatcha Crozier - (he/him) A "jaded" half-elf who romanced Astarion and I am told he is quite handsome!

@the-real-housewives-of-waterdeep Dulcinea Gohar Selemchant - (she/her) A human wizard turned fighter. The world's most beautiful rich girl. She is gorgeous and knows how to work a ballroom.

@desperatewomenenjoyer Durik/Дурик - (she/her) a drow bard who is romancing Minthara. She went from a pretty nice person (if you ignore what she did in the grove) to pretty jaded and manipulative over the course of the story. Love that for her.

@baldurspeen69420 Izra - (she/her) A githyanki monk who super duper promises she isn't questioning her queen.

Sophie - (she/her) If one more person calls her ugly I am letting Gale nuke the city. She is a half-orc and the prettiest girl at the party as far as I'm concerned!

@punk-muffins Daemys Daezorwyn - (she/her) She was raised in a monastery and trained to be a monk, later picking up fighter skills as well. She is romancing Gale.

@ellekhen Church - (he/him) A tiefling warlock who is romancing Astarion. You gotta check out ElleKhen's fanfiction!

@phoenixspencer Arali - (she/her) A tiefling who grew up in Baldur’s gate. She romanced Astarion!

Calryn - (he/him) A lolth sworn bloodhunter durge who is romancing Astarion. Very handsome.

@thecrowandtheraven08 Cassian - (they/them) A lolth sworn cleric who the more I learn about the sadder I get :( Recently learned what happened to their fiance. They are romancing Astarion and Halsin and I hope they get healed and cherished.

@spacebarbarianweird Tyreal - (she/her) is a half-elf barbarian who is romancing Astarion. They have a dhampir daughter together named Alethaine!

@primal-savagery Velvela - (she/her) A drow druid/fighter/cleric who is romancing Astarion. She is super pretty!

@taras-toe-beans Izzrhys - (he/him) A drow oath of devotion paladin. He is kinda messed up from the drow matriarchy which is honestly fair. He is paried with Gale!

Aratris - (they/them) A half-wood elf circle of the moon druid who spends a lot of time as an owlbear.

Leoryn - (they/them) A high elf lore college bard.

Talaak - (she/her) A durge silver dragonborn storm sorcerer.

Aesir - (they/them) A half high elf thief subclass rogue who was a preexisting dnd character!

Tag Guide

Special tags I use that aren’t common

#tavspawn - any posts featuring kids of tavs or canon characters

#bloodpact - wyllstarion ship name

#all the gods we cannot save - my large fic project for the supernatural/urban fantasy au

Dumb Discourse Disclaimer

Anything where anyone says another person’s interpretation of a character is wrong. I just like seeing people be happy. Sometimes someone else’s happiness includes reading a character differently than you do. This includes but isn’t limited to: spawn batstarion, transcharacter readings, autistic character readings, tavxorigin children, straight people, lesbians, asexual astarion, sexual astarion, tavxraphael, top raphael, dad gale, women, things contrary to “canon”, and that ship you find annoying.

#atlas #bio

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shakespearerants · 14 days

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Started watching It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, currently somewhere in the middle of season 3. Here's my comprehensive list of things I think would fix the gang:

- Charlie: Going to live on a ranch in the middle of nowhere as a ranch hand/cowboy -> He loves horses and he needs an environment where Charlie Work™ is actually valued. Also I'm choosing to headcanon his substance abuse problem as self medication to cope with sensory issues thus the middle of nowhere. Also tell me that boy wouldn't be the pride and joy of every ranch owner. Does every gross shit without complaint, is able to immediately grasp what needs doing and does it independently, will work all hours of the week, and has a knack for animals, handy with machines. He even likes country music. They would never let him go.

- Mac: Toxic gay friend circle. Also going to church more often -> he needs people who accept him for the bitchy queen he is (toxic gay friends) but also I think he needs to fix his daddy issues and projecting on God/an older priest who will actually tell him good job for once is the way to go. Also being accepted into a group of bitchy judgemental Church Elders™ would fix him. Tell me that wouldn't be that boys natural environment I dare you.

- Frank: Become the director/producer of a failing amateur theatre company -> he has the money to keep them going and actors would actually voluntarily participate in his convoluted shenanigans. Also I just KNOW he would put on absolutely bat shit out there productions. I'm talking Much Ado About Nothing fully naked in a junkyard and everyone dies at the end. I want to see that.

- Dennis: Therapy - Ayahuasca retreat - become a minor celebrity/cult leader in that order -> He is deeply fucked up and needs validation (therapy) but I don't think it would actually sink in without some kind of Experience™ (thus the Ayahuasca, though I think shrooms would work too). But I don't think his need to be The Best And Prettiest Boy In The World is something that can be therapized away, thus he needs to become some kind beloved public figure. Hopefully with the therapy and shit he won't let it go to his head so much he ruins it again. Also that boy needs a pair of absurdly expensive Persian cats.

- Dee: Join a weird women only cult then leave said cult with a group of like five other women and form a lifelong friend group bordering on qpr/polyamory. Also never ever ever contact the rest of the gang ever ever again -> this woman NEEDS close female friends she NEEDS them. Also she needs to speed run emotional intimacy. And cut off the rest of the gang. Thus the cult. And then she needs to leave the cult but keep her support system. And that support system needs to tell her she's the best and prettiest and goodest girl ever every evening while tucking her into bed.

#vladi speaks #iasip #it's always sunny in philadelphia

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notyour-valentine · 2 years

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The Boy in the Window ~ Tommy Shelby x Reader (Series)

Summary: (Y/N) thinks the boy her daughter sees in the window of the neighbouring house is nothing but a childish fantasy, after all, no one has lived there for years, but when she brings that boy to lunch, she realises that he is in fact very real, rather hungry and quite cold and above all- the son of none other than the infamous Tommy Shelby. Expect spoilers for Peaky Blinders Season 1-4.

Note: This is the prologue to a multi part Tommy Shelby x Reader series with the purpose of an introduction to the reader and her life. I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other.

Here, you can find my [Masterlist] and the [Series Masterlist]

Warning: Canon conforming mention of violence. Your media consumption is your own responsibility.

Requested: no

Wordcount: 2835

Prologue

“There we go!”, she said with a smile, as she watched Emma step back from the fireplace.

“It’s so pretty, Mummy!”, she exclaimed, clasping her little hands over her face in adoration. “Look, it’s red and green just like the wreath at the door!”

What a coincidence, (Y/N) thought that the Christmas stocking matched the decoration, but her Emma was at that age where everything was amazing, marvellous or simply glorious. Or she’d hate it with every fibre of her being.

Christmas had truly captivated her - from decorating the house, to baking biscuits, to writing, reading and placing Christmas cards all over the house and now preparing the plate for Father Christmas and Rudolf. It almost made her sad that tomorrow morning this would come to an end.

“Now, have we forgotten anything?”, she asked, with a deep and serious frown, which Emma mirrored at once.

“Stockings?”

She pointed at the fireplace at once.

“Very good - what about milk for Father Christmas?”

“And biscuits too!”

Emma had even picked the prettiest, which was half a shame since they deserved to be shared and now she’d have to eat them all by herself.

Once more, (Y/N) nodded, but then the realisation hit her daughter.

“We forgot the carrot for the reindeer!”

With a cry of shock and outrage, Emma shot up, running as fast as her legs could take her. She returned red cheeked, with her hair flying behind her like a banner in the wind, clutching the carrot in her hands like a trophy.

“There!”, she said, placing it next to the biscuits at once.

“Well done. That’s all I think.”, she said. “Time for bed!”

“Can’t we wait here for Father Christmas?”, Emma asked. “I want to wish him a good day.”

(Y/N) shook her head.

“I don’t think so, darling. We never know when he will come, and we can’t spend all night. We’d be terribly tired and sleep through all day tomorrow, and you don’t want that, do you?”

Begrudgingly Emma agreed and took her hand as they made their way up the stairs together.

She was already washed and changed, so all that remained was to brush and braid her hair while singing her favourite song.

“Can we have the story of the three little pigs tonight?”, Emma asked, once she was neatly tucked into bed.

“Not tonight. Tonight’s a special night. We’ll read the Christmas story tonight.”

“But we already read it at church today. And they’ll read it again at church tomorrow!”, she complained.

It was difficult to argue with, but in this she didn’t budge. Emma listened all the same.

Then she folded her hands and they said the words of their goodnight prayer together. Over the years, it had found its own rhythm, becoming almost a singsong.

“Good night, my darling!”, she said, as she pressed a kiss to her forehead, smoothing the hair out of her face.

“Good night!”, Emma said in a softer, sleepier voice.

But (Y/N) didn’t get far. She had barely reached the foot of the bed, when her daughter called out to her once more.

“Mummy, does Father Christmas really come to every child in the whole wide world?”

“Yes.”, she assured her.

“Even to the boy across the street?”

(Y/N) scoffed.

“Well of course. He always comes to Robert and Sophie.”,

“Not Robert and Sophie!”, she insisted, waving off the neighbours’ children. “Across the little street- the one behind the kitchen.”

Calling that a street was generous indeed. It was a small gap between houses that was barely large enough for two carts to fit inside. Not that there would be any way out for them.

The back of their house was right next to the back of the house on the other street, with a small and narrow gap that allowed every second house some air. Some council law, which had been long overturned had granted them this little privilege, which brought a bit more light. In Small Heath, that was a blessing.

From Emma’s window, one could see right across to the house on Watery Lane.

“Darling, no one lives there. No one has for years.”, she assured her.

All the Shelbys had moved out of Small Heath, if not out of Birmingham long ago, as quickly as they should - the way anyone would if they had half a brain.

Of the siblings, Ada had been the first to go- loud, reckless Ada who had never been afraid of anything, even at school. She also hadn’t been afraid to marry a communist and move to London. It seemed that communists weren’t all that strict with money, because she apparently had such a large house, she needed a maid to keep it in order. Or so she had heard from some women in the bath house.

John and his wife and their ever expanding host of children had long bought a house in the country, and Arthur had followed soon after. And Thomas of course, lived in a house as big as a palace, somewhere in the green.

The only Shelby to still live in the city was Finn, who, with his cousin, lived in the best part of the city, far away from the smoke.

But just because they all left, didn’t mean they took their shadow with them. Once, it had only engulfed Small Heath but by now it was large enough to touch every part of the city. There was no way around the Peaky Blinders.

“So Father Christmas won’t find him?”, Emma asked, wide eyed, as if the prospect caused her little heart to shatter.

“I am sure that if there is a boy, he will get his presents.”, she soothed.

Emma still didn’t look entirely convinced, but after another kiss, she settled.

Once downstairs, she filled Emma’s stocking with sweets and biscuits, clementines, nuts, new socks, a dress, some coloured pencils she had held on to for months and a story book of fairy tales. When money was tight, and money was always tight, one had to buy presents early, whenever there had been a little to spare. She was only glad that Emma hadn’t found any of them yet. She was such a witty, curious girl, who only ever grew smarter by the day. Soon she’d be difficult to keep up with and to keep secrets from, but for now she was only her little girl, and she wouldn’t notice these things just yet.

No parent, in history, ever got to sleep in on Christmas Morning, and nor did Y/N Hale, who was woken just short of six a.m. by excited cries of “Mummy, Mummy, Father Christmas came! He came!” followed by a little human jumping up and down on her bed with excitement, before grabbing her and pulling her downstairs.

It had been a haze after that, of giddiness and excitement. And then a hassle, because they were so late, they almost arrived too late for the service. She had to call Emma thrice before she left the back window, proclaiming with ministerial certainty that she had to say goodbye to her “friend”, the boy in the window.

Only at the Church Christmas Tea did (Y/N) have time to breathe. Originally it had been started during the war. Too many people felt alone during those originally festive days without their husbands or brothers, fathers or sons. As it turned out, a combination of individual grief and loneliness could create a companionship of sorts.

After the war, they kept it up because there were too many families with aching gaps, who would rather come here for a few hours than stare at the empty chairs. It was also a kindness to the many injured veterans who had no one left to turn to. They had just kept it going, and (Y/N) and Emma always went.

It was the usual suspects. Mr. and Mrs. Morrison had lost their only boy and of Mr. Leeming’s four only one came back. Mrs Richards was a kind woman with a round face who had been old since before (Y/N) could remember, but she was a school teacher, and later volunteered to watch the children who had to stay longer because their parents worked in the factories. The loss of so many men she had known since they were boys had taken away her laughter, but not her good heart. Even now, the children still liked her, but there was something in her eyes when she looked at the boys which sent shivers down (Y/N)’s spine. The children were too oblivious and too distracted by the lemon sherbets in her pockets to notice of course.

Mr. Perth had lost a leg to the king’s ambition and Mr. Graham his sight. The Dudley brothers were particularly worthy of pity - all three of them returned from across the sea only to see their parents and younger sisters waste away from the Spanish Flu.

It was always the same faces.

A sorry lot we are indeed, she thought, but that was what Small Heath was. A sorry lot, who made do best they could.

And sometimes the best they could do was huddle together on Christmas Day for one nice warm cup of tea and some biscuits and cake.

(Y/N) volunteered at the church whenever she could and so these rooms were neither strange nor haunting to Emma, nor a lot of the other children.

They enjoyed the cake, the sweets and most importantly the fact that their parents were a little more lenient than usual and so they ran circles around the Christmas tree they had decorated with the same ribbons as every year.

“It’s good to see Emma so happy.”, Mrs Cook said with a smile. “I remember it being difficult this time of year. Especially at first.”

(Y/N) nodded, watching Emma taking over the role of ring leader as the children began to play a game of cards.

Mrs. Cook had fifteen years on her, and her own weight to carry, not unlike the one she bore. The South African war had taken her husband. She owned the tailors (Y/N) found some work in. It wasn’t as fancy as the Chinese ones, but enough for the folks down here and she was never shy of teaching her a thing or two.

“It’s the second for us.”, (Y/N) said with a heavy sigh. “I suppose that’s an improvement.”

Mrs Cook gave her arm a squeeze.

“I know it sounds harsh now, but be glad Emma is so young. Younger hearts heal easier. And she doesn’t know what she’s missing.”

(Y/N) scoffed. She had a long list of the things Emma was missing.

Her father’s hugs, the booming sound of his laughter, the way he could carve toys out of nothing but plain wood and imitate bird sounds to perfection. She missed out on a childhood on a farm, on chickens, on fruit trees and green grass. She missed out on siblings, on fresh air and on the person (Y/N) had once been.

“I am trying my best, but…”

She shook her head.

“Emma is her father’s daughter, smart and brave and I am none of these things. Soon enough she’ll get bored of me.”

And it was a dangerous thing to get bored in a place like this, especially for a girl.

“Sometimes I think it’s already happening.”

“Why would you say that?”, Mrs. Cook asked.

“Currently, she has an imaginary friend.”, (Y/N) said. “I try to keep her busy, but apparently it’s not enough. Perhaps she is lonely?”

The older woman smiled, the soft wrinkles around her eyes deepening.

“Oh my dear, don’t you worry. Your Emma is just fine. She’s a young girl with a great imagination.”

She shook her head.

“And lonely? Emma could befriend a tree- just wait until she gets to school. She’ll be gobbling up all the books in the library, I bet.”

I hope.

That was another reason why (Y/N) was so keen on involving herself with the church. A possible future reference from the priest could be worth more than gold, a recommendation maybe, perhaps even a scholarship. Opportunities were limited in a place like this, and she so wanted the best for her little girl.

It was the reason she had learned how to speak properly, so that one wouldn’t hear a word out of Emma’s mouth and know she was from Small Heath- that worked with medium success. But talking to Mrs. Cook made her heart feel a little lighter.

It was nearly two by the time they got home from the church.

“I’m just going to heat up some soup, yes?”, she asked. After a Christmas dinner and all those treats not just on Christmas morning but also at the Church tea, she wondered if Emma would even be able to finish both a bowl and a slice of bread.

It always surprised her how much people were able to muster up for the children - little sweets, biscuits, oranges, nuts - most people brought something, even if it was just something little just to brighten up the youngster’s days. And of course the parents had little chance of taking it away before it found their way to their mouths.

Emma nodded almost impatiently, staring out of the window again. It had snowed slightly.

“Do you want to go outside?”, she asked, glancing at the thin white sheet.

“Oh yes, Mummy, please!”, she said.

“Well go on then.”

It was as if the factorie’s fire and heat found its way into the earth as it could snow as much as it liked, but it would all melt away within hours. Nothing good or pretty ever lasted long in Small Heath.

If Emma played in the small enclosure between their house and the houses on Watery Lane, she wouldn’t be at risk to get hit by a car or get into trouble - and she could get back into the kitchen whenever she liked, never really out of sight.

And so (Y/N) saw it at once, when Emma was balancing a plate of two clementines, some biscuits, a few slices of ham, a piece of bread and a block of cheese thick as her thumb on her gloved hands.

“What are you doing?”, she demanded to know, putting down the wooden spoon she had used to stir the soup with.

“He said he was hungry.”, she declared firmly. “You don’t mind me putting it out there for him?"

The boy from the window again.

(Y/N) was fine playing along, but there had to be limits.

“I do mind!”, she said. “If you leave food out there, we will have rats in no time and didn’t we just have a good night story about rats? Where do you think we’ll get a Nutcracker Prince to fight them off? I’ll have to do it all on my own.”

That made Emma frown, but her eyes soon went back to the window.

“Well if I can’t leave it out, can he come here?”

Before she could argue, Emma tried again.

“Please, Mummy, please. He’ll be ever so good and he won’t make a mess and he won’t be noisy either.”

If your imaginary friend was loud and made a mess I’d call a priest, she thought.

“He’s so quiet, like a little mouse.”, Emma giggled.

I was called a mouse once, she remembered, and nodded, as she took the plate from her hands.

That had been a lifetime ago. But it was good to be a mouse in this place - quiet, easily hidden and unnoticed. Until she had been noticed, and swept off her feet into a better, calmer life away from the city, in a small cottage on a farm. That dream had lasted three years, before an accident had made her a widow and their barely two year old little girl an orphan, sending her right back into this place.

“Fine. Your friend can come.”, she agreed to humour her.

It wasn’t like he’d eat them out of house and home.

(Y/N) poured the soup into a porcelain bowl and reached for the oven gloves.

“Emma?”, she called out. “Come now!”

“We’re already here, Mummy.”, she heard from right behind her, followed by an excited giggle.

She turned and cried out, as the bowl of hot soup almost slipped from her grasp.

Still, she flinched so hard, some of it splashed over the edges. The gloves soaked up the most part, but some drops still hit her arms, burning her skin.

But that was the least of her problems, she realised, as she stared into a pair of bright blue eyes.

End of Prologue

Here is the continuation in: [Part 1]

Thank you very much for reading. I'd be very welcome for feedback of any kind.

If you are interested in more, here is my [Masterlist] and the [Series Masterlist]

Taglist:

@lilyrachelcassidy

#Peaky Blinders #Tommy Shelby #Thomas Shelby #Thomas Shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby Imagine #Thomas Shelby Imagine #The Boy in the Window #valentineswritings

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143htg · 1 year

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oohhhch little goofy plot summary for my AU 'of red thread hovering childhood dreams' so I don't continuously forget it now that school has finished and I can finally go and finish what I have to finish holy shit

Aubrey lives a very tranquil life, surrounded by the people she loves and in a nice cozy place she can finally call home, it's everything she has ever wanted and everything she'll ever want.

Or this is what she kept telling herself.

Up until in the art her friend Sunny makes, starts to appear a boy she has never seen before. When asked about it, Sunny tells her about this boy he once saw when the funeral of an elder who passed was held, the boy now hangs out almost everyday at the local church and Sunny when going to sketch something, ends up drawing him as well since he's always there.

Aubrey ends up taking a very peculiar liking to that specific art. While she thinks is very creepy to want to see someone up close so much just by seeing a very stylized iteration of them, she ends up just doing that, everyday taking the longest path home to walk in front of the church and take a sneak peek of the boy she is so interested in.

Ultimately she becomes extremely infatuated, a silly puppy crush she started to feel, too shy to go and talk to him directly and preferring to watch from afar, even if sinking teeth into pretty skin is a thought that popped in her mind more than once.

His loneliness something that she wanted to take away very bad, painful seeing such a gentle person always alone. Prettiest than any flower she saw him handling.

However flowers can be poisonous and Aubrey is naive enough to pick any flower she believes is pretty, unaware of the dangers she has between her fingers.

So when her father passes away and Aubrey's forced to step into the flower field, the boy in red will lead the way to better times, even in dreams, and the world will come crashing down in saccharine words. In any case, isn't he only a flower to pluck petals from in a childish game?

#this is so messy oh my god #omori #omori game #uwaaaaaaaaaaa #Sorry if it's too messy or it doesn't make too much sense........

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lucy-dulap · 18 days

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Welcome back

Lucy looked perfect, just as they intended. They haven't braided their hair like their mother used to in a while. The clothes they had on were a tight fit, made for someone much younger than them. A black shirt, a black vest, a black set of pants, Lucy looked like an overdressed emo. But these were their best clothes, the clothes they've holding off for their funeral.

The tradition was simple; the dead must be buried wearing their prettiest clothing, two coins in their hand to pay their dept up in Heaven. Everything should be given in pairs for the dead, two flowers, two coins, four candles... Lucy had two small braids at the front of their face, two rings on their fingers and their two favorite keychains hooked on their belt hoops. Lucy had no intention of returning to the human world as nothing more than a corpse.

Satan was talking to them but Lucy could not hear his distant voice. What trully woke them up was a sudden kiss on the lips from a different demon. Never having kissed anyone on the lips before, Lucy was startled by it so they hit the person with all their might.

The blue haired devil had a deep blush on his face, hearts in his eyes and his knees were weak. "Solomon... your slaps are as strong as I remembered."

"This isn't Solomon, Sitri! They're his grand grand grand grand grand grand kid, or something along those lines."

"...I can't believe you returned to us, Solomon. 100 years, 10 months, 21 days... I've been waiting for you for every second of all these days. I knew that you wouldn't leave hell behind." Sitri's desprate voice and crazed look didn't sell Lucy on the idea of Hell.

"Have you heard of Solomon? The great king of Jerusalim. The cutting the baby in two Solomon." Satan grabbed Lucy by their waist and brought them closer to him. The human was too lightheaded to think, but the name of Solomon did ring a bell.

"The white guy from Obey Me, I know him." Lucy nodded and rubbed their tamples to try and lessen their headache. A small devil flies up to them and sit himself in their sholder. "Solomon was a great sorcerer, aye. Everyone in hell loved him." The high pitched voice did nothing to lessen their pain and Lucy swatted the red lump off their sholder.

The three devils where talking about something, but Lucy didn't care enough to ask anything. Their job was very easy, die. Maybe it was selfish, but when nobody cares about you everything is selfish.

Satan was particularly close to them, teasing them, pitching them, doing anything to get a reaction out of the borderline catatonic child in his care. He lightly slaps Lucy's back, signaling their departure from the church they were in.

Lucy took one step ahead and promptly fainted, to the horror of the devils in the room. Sitri checked their heartbeat which was slow and steady, confirming that they were alive. Satan told Sitri to feed his demon energy to the child of Solomon. With Sitri gone to a seperate room, Satan called Lucifer himself. He didn't want one of his lobotomised healers, he needed the fallen angel himself. Lucifer almost never picked up, but fate must have it that he responded now.

"I NEED YOU RIGHT NOW!"

"...what?"

"The child of Solomon fainted and they won't wake up and I need you to heal them! Come to the Gehenna church right now!"

"The child of...! I will send my greatest healer to bring them to Paradise Lost."

"Whatever you do, do it quickly!"

Before Satan could finish his demand, the door opened and blinding light flooded the room. A boyish figure rushed to Satan, and took Lucy in his arms.

"Oh, hi, your Majesty! Long time no see! This is the child of Solomon? That's a strange species name. Anyways, room 287 second floor, knock before you come in, bye!"

He rushed his words out before running off with Lucy bridal style. Satan crunched, he specifically asked for them to be treated in Gehenna, but Lucifer never comes out of his comfy nest. And it's not like Satan could argue with him like he did with the other kings. He saw first hand what an angry Lucifer could do, and his people are more important than his petty hate... but that didn't stop him from getting angry.

Sitri came in with a bottle of his devil energy only to find out that Lucy was in Paradise Lost. His envy was evident, disapproving of Solomon spending time with a different blue haired devil, from Paradise Lost of all places.

Lucy, on the other hand, was happy. They finally did something early other than waking up. Or, at least that's what they thought they were thinking. When their eyes fluttered open, they saw a blurry white figure move away and a grinning teen on top of them. The blurry figure disappeared, leaving them alone with the blue haired devil.

"Good morning, child of Solomon!"

#whb #lucy dulap #whb satan #whb sitri #whb lucy #whb oc #whb gamigin #idk why I even add tags #i'm pretty sure that demonsword has notifications turned on for this blog anyways #btw hi bestie!

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ontheshroom · 2 years

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yess omg ok! what about being friends with jack since you were kids and he's had a crush on you for years but you haven't given him the time of day😭 and he invites you to one of his gigs (pre fame jack has my heart!!) and dedicates a song to you in front of everyone (i would marry him on the spot🫣) then after the performance he's ask you to be his gf

This One’s For You.

Pre-fame!Jack Harlow x fem!reader

Fluff

Synopsis: Jack dedicates a song to you.

“Look at the prettiest girl in the world waiting on her driver.” Jack smiles, wrapping his lanyard around his hand.

“Nah, why are you so late? You were supposed to be out ten minutes ago.” You cross your arms.

“Hey, I don’t become this hot overnight.” He winks.

“Then you might need a few more years cause it still hasn’t set in.” He smacks his lips and unlocks the car.

“Why did we have to get to the mall so early again?” He asks you.

“I have a date Friday night but nothing to wear, and you know my car needs new breaks.” You explain to him.

It seems like his whole demeanor changes after you mention your date. He straightens his back and nods.

“Okay.” He says, putting the car in drive and exiting the driveway.

“Any new music to play for me?” You ask him, turning your head to look at him.

He looks dazed and out of it like he almost looks sad.

“Nah, not right now, y/n.” He tells you shaking his head.

You pout subconsciously, feeling sad that he’s upset.

“Are you okay?” You ask him.

“I’m fine. Drop it.” He says, turning up his radio.

“Okay.” You sigh.

The two of you drive to the mall in silence. You look over at him now and then but his expression never changes.

Once the two of you arrive he puts the car in park and the two of you exit it and walk into the mall. You figure he might just need some space so you walk into a random store and start looking at things. You feel him following you around quietly.

“Are you upset because of what I said? I didn’t actually mean you have to wait years to look hot. You look perfec-“

“I’m not upset at that.” He laughs.

“Glad to know you think I’m hot though, baby.”

“Alright, don’t gas yourself.” You roll your eyes.

“I have a show tonight, can you come?” He asks, shyly.

“Duh, Jackman. I’ve got to every single thing you’ve performed at since I was like 5 and Ms. Maggie made you perform for our church.” You laugh.

“God, I almost forgot about that too.” He groans.

You laugh at him and shake your head. A pretty silver dress catches Jack’s eye and he immediately walks towards it checking it for a size. He smiles brightly as he sees the only one left in your size.

“Can you wear this to my show?” He asks, showing you the dress.

“Jack..that’s a bit dressy no?” You ask him, touching it.

“And expensive.” You crinkle your eyebrows at the $120 price tag.

“I’ll buy it. I just want to see you in it while I perform.” He negotiates.

“I guess.” You sigh.

“I’m gonna wear this dress to my date Friday.” You tell him holding up a regular tee-shirt dress.

Jack clenches his jaw at your words but then nods to the register. The two of you get in line and pay for the items before leaving the mall.

“What time is your show?” You ask him settling in the passenger seat.

“7:30.” He tells you, putting his arm behind your seat and reversing.

“Okay, pick me up?” You ask him.

“Anything for you, princess.” He smiles.

7:00

Three honks from outside let you know Jack is outside waiting for you. You quickly grab your bag, your charger, and your phone and make your way outside to his car.

“God damn! You might be the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen!” He yells.

“Stop.” You laugh at him.

“You don’t look too bad yourself Mr. Harlow.” You compliment him.

“Obviously.” He brushes himself off.

“I take it back, dickhead.” You laugh.

The two of you giggle and laugh all the way to his show

getting there around 7:15.

The two of you meet up with the rest of Private Garden and settle in front of the stage.

“And now, we’re happy to announce our performer, Jack Harlow!” The emcee tells the crowd.

“Woo!” You yell along with the rest of PG.

“Hey everyone, I’ll be performing a few songs from my album 18.” Jack says.

He performs Ice Cream, Obsessed, Selfish, and Got Me Thinking.

“I have one more song to perform for y’all, but this one is dedicated to y/n.” He says looking at you.

“You’ve been beside me since we were babies. Everything I do is gonna be for us, I promise. This is called Routine and it’s on my newest album Gazebo.”

Going through the mood swings. When you care more she don't make time. When she got time we just Facetime, but she beautiful, like real talk though. She come right after that 8-9 so I'm stuck on her. I'm so gone off her. Might lay in bed with some other girl. And talk about her after I bust on her. Like, what you think I should do?

You smile as Jack wraps up the song and says his goodbyes to the crowd before meeting with y’all.

“Jack.” You hit his shoulder.

“You didn’t tell me you were gonna do that.” You smile.

“I don’t want you to go on a date with that loser on Friday. I want you to let me take you out on Friday. I’ve had feelings for you for so long. I know you don’t want to alter our friendship, but I can’t see you as just a friend anymore.” He confesses.

A tear falls down your cheek before you pull him in for a kiss.

“So you’ll be my girl?” He asks with a goofy smile.

You giggle before nodding.

“I guess I’ll settle.” You smile.

“Disgusting.” Urban shakes his head.

“You’re just mad you’re single.” Jack laughs.

“Just don’t get her pregnant.” 2fo adds.

“And don’t break her heart.” Ace threatens him.

“I won’t, I won’t.” Jack holds his hands up defensively.

#jack harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow smut #jack harlow angst #jack harlow fic #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow concepts #dad!jack

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