#Plus I had to do something for the boys on my birthday
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OK I had to do these for Corinthiel cause they're the pinnacle of crack prompts.
who controls the netflix account and what have they dominated the suggestions with by watching
Well, since Danny has every streaming service living rent free in his mind, it's got to be Cori. You've got to have all the modern luxuries when out doing your Lord's bidding in the Waking, including the best streaming has to offer. His watch list is full of the usual you would expect for THE nightmare paramount. A chocolate box of horrors so psychology damaging, one wonders who or what the director had to fuck to get it green lit. His suggestions however, are curiously dominated by the suspiciously twee likes of the ‘The Great British Sewing Bee’ and the ‘The Secret Life of Cats.’ He blames Ruin… Everyone knows it's not Ruin.
who snores
Daniel, oh yes, perfect little princess face Danny boy with all the grace, poise and finesse of an expert geisha… Snores like an alcoholic sailor with severe sleep apnea when he's out. That ‘unique’ laugh of Morpheus's had to go somewhere. And it chose make a new home for itself in Danny's nasal passages. Eldritch horrors live in fear of hearing it, demons tell stories of it in hushed, reverant tones. It's the most horrific sound to ever take form. Cori adores it.
who has an embarrassing ringtone that the other calls them in public just to get to go off
Wait, you think Cori's phone blasting ‘Pour some sugar on me’ while his phone flashes a salacious lockscreen photo of Daniel, isn't meticulously planned? For his own delight and everyone else's discomfort? He's purposely arranged callbacks from sales companies, just so he can stand there like a smug git while a Jpeg Lord of the Dreaming flashes his sugar tits. He's done it with Constantine, Hob, the archangel Michael… That one time with Destiny. He doesn't talk about that though…
who sleeps on the top bunk if given the chance
If by top bunk you mean the finely sculpted pectorals of one blonde nightmare.. It's an all out war between Danny and Madison about who gets to curl up and purr themselves into oblivion. Trust me, those catfights gets naaasty! They're the closest thing the Dreaming has to bloodsports. Trauma for the eyes in a flurry of white hair.
who plays the piano at 6 in the morning to wake up the other
Matthew once spent a month making Mervyn hit a piano repetitively with a heavy duty chain whip to get them out of their bed chamber. Does that count? Would you want to face an enraged librarian on the warpath because their peace has been heinously disturbed? Well neither did they. It was the only way to get them to put their pants on.
who has accidentally set something on fire by attempting to cook a birthday meal
Well, since Cori is the accomplished male wife he is, I'm going to say with no canonical proof ( but we all know it's true) his skills in the culinary arts could make Gordon Ramsey renounce swearing in euphoria. And Daniel should be able to pull from an encyclopedic dreamer knowledge of this stuff. So… Ruin did it. How did Ruin set fire to the deep fat fryer when making a romantic icecream sundae for his Lord and mentor in all things night terrors? Well, let me tell you, he has a particular set of skills!
#corinthiel#corinthian x daniel#Tuesday night crack#I'm blaming the four hour trip to Glastonbury#Plus I had to do something for the boys on my birthday#Cori 2.0#daniel hall#matthew the raven#The nightmare ruin#Madison Flynn#Nightmare country#The Dreaming the Waking hours
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So sweet- O. Piastri & L. Norris
Oscar Piastri x fem! Reader x Lando Norris x fem! Reader
In which you and Lando celebrate your boyfriend’s birthday your own way..
Warnings?; smut, poly! Relationship, p in v, penetrative sex, unprotected sex( a big no no), handjob (m receiving), switch Lando!, switch reader!, sub Oscar!, kissing, talks of spanking, suggestion of m x m, cursing, pet names, bratty lando, teasing, edging, good boy Oscar, slight food play?, sorry for any errors I missed!
This was supposed to be out weeks ago but writers block is a bitch and I didn’t want it going to waste!
You didn’t even notice what you were doing to your boys, to indulged in the sweetness of the cupcake Jon handed you you failed to notice the way both of your boyfriends eyes had locked on the way your tongue poked out to take a lick of the icing, or how their breaths hitched at the sound of your soft moan at how sweet the taste was.
“You boys should really go get one, these are delicious.” You spoke, eyes still trained on the cupcake in your hand.
You frowned noticing some of the papaya icing on your finger, not thinking twice before popping the digit into your mouth to clean it off.
A soft fuck coming from the British driver had you looking up, freezing the second you caught the looks in both drivers eyes.
Both sets of their eyes darker than their natural color, watching intently as you removed your finger from your mouth.
“What?..” you trailed looking between both men.
“Baby..c-can you eat it normally please?” Oscar spoke up first.
“I am eating it normally?” You defended
Lando groaned at your words, his large hands wasting no time as they pulled you closer by your hips, dipping his head so he could whisper in your ear.
“No, you’re being a fucking tease..sucking your fingers and moaning for everyone to see and hear.”
Your breath hitched at his words, a soft blush covering your cheeks as he pulled back looking down at you with a stern and frustrated expression.
Your eyes dropped down to their black jeans, bulges evident through the dark material everything finally clicked in your mind.
They were getting turned on by watching you eat a cupcake..
Neither of the men liked the smirk that tugged at your lips, their stomachs fluttering as your tongue poked back out this time licking the icing much more seductively.
“I don’t know what you mean, I’m just enjoying my cupcake.” You shrugged turning on your heels to head off towards Lando’s divers room, giggling as you heard both sets of their feet quickly following behind you.
You walked into the room and took a seat on the small couch, not bothering to shut the door as their two large bodies filed in right after you.
You looked up at them innocently, both men standing in front of you- Lando with his arms crossed impatiently and your sweet Aussie with his hands crossed in front of him.
“Can I help you boys with something?” You raised an eyebrow, tongue poking out for another taste of the icing.
“I-we..” Oscar stammered, always having trouble announcing what it was that he truly wanted when it came to sex, his nerves always taking over.
“Oh fuck this.” Lando grumbled, surging forward he snatched the cupcake from your hands, throwing it into the bin next to you before quickly moving to sit beside you and pull you onto his lap.
You didn’t have time to react to his rushed movements before he was pulling you into a heavy kiss, one of his large hands tangling in your hair while the other held your waist.
the mix of your natural taste plus added sweetness of the icing had him him moaning against you.
Feeling the couch shift and added weight you pulled away from the Brit, leaning over to pull Oscar into a kiss, his hands much more hesitant as they pulled you onto his lap.
“You taste so sweet.” He whined as you both pulled away for air.
“Not as sweet as you birthday boy.” You smirked, running a finger along his reddening cheek, basking in the way he leaned into you with a soft sigh.
“This is cute and all but can we fuck already? We only have an hour before practice.” Lando grumbled from beside you two.
Lando’s stomach twisted at the way your lips tugged up into a smirk at your lips, eyes switching between him and the brunette sat below you.
“Why don’t we let the birthday boy pick?” You spoke up, “What do you think Osc? Should I fuck you while Lando watches or does he deserve a little something too?”
Oscar whimpered at your words, eyes looking over at his now pouting boyfriend whose hard cock was pushing against the tight material of his jeans and he couldn’t help but feel his mouth water at the thought of Lando’s thick cock.
“W-want you to ride me while i touch lan..” he mumbled with a quick please following close behind.
You hummed happily at his words, moving back slightly to pull him from the restraints of his jeans and boxers, basking in his small moan as his cock sprung free.
“Always such a good boy for me Osc, so polite and patient.” You praised however your eyes were trained on the pouting Brit beside you, his arms crossed as he watched you slowly stroke Oscar’s length.
“Take your cock out lan, don’t leave our good boy waiting.” You instructed, both you and Oscar watching intently as he grumbled under his breath but still did as you said.
The sight of his thick and needy cock causing Oscar to whimper and immediately reach out for his boyfriend, stroking his cock at the same pace your hand moved on his.
You watched on as the pleasure took over Lando’s once bratty demeanor, his eyes fluttering shut as his head tipped back and his nails dug into the arm of the couch.
“Fuck.” He whimpered as Oscar flexed his wrist, his thumb running over Lando’s dripping tip.
You did the same to the Aussie causing small whines of his own to escape the back of his throat as his eyes moved back to you.
It was his and Lando’s turn to watch as you pushed your panties to the side under your dress and moved to hover over Oscar’s cock, air getting stuck in your throat as you sunk down on him.
Both men watched in awe as you took all of Oscar’s length, sharing a mutual moan of need at the way your body shook once you reached the base of his cock.
“So good.” You hissed as you got used to his size, it didn’t matter how many times you had either of them, you always needed time to adjust.
You soon began to rock your hips, hands resting on the back of the couch as you kept eye contact with the sweet boy below you, enjoying the way his face contorted into different signs of pleasure.
Lando watched from the side as your cunt greedily took Oscar, your tits slowly starting to spill over the top of your dress as your bounces began to pick up pace, causing the boy to whine with want.
Your smirk returned at the way Lando’s pretty eyes were locked in your breasts and you couldn’t help yourself when you pulled the top down allowing them to spill free.
Oscar wasted no time in dipping forward and taking one into his mouth, a cry leaving you as his lips wrapped around one of your buds, his teeth lightly nipping before he calmed the stinging with a roll of his tongue, his left hand still working your boyfriends cock.
“C-can I please have a taste? Please.” Lando finally spoke after a minute of watching Oscar devour your breasts, fresh marks now littering your skin.
“You think he deserves a taste Oscar?”
“Mhm, been good for me.” Oscar mumbled into your skin, his lips returning right after he finished his sentence.
You gave Lando a curt nod and soon he was on the other breast like a starved man, sloppy wet kisses all over your skin, his tongue tracing the shape of your nipple before he took the bud between his teeth lightly.
“Oh god” you moaned at the mixed sensation of Oscar’s cock hitting you so deep and having both of their mouths on you, your hands coming up to cup the back of their heads.
“M’ getting close boys, fuck!” You cried.
You pushed both of them back as the feeling in your lower stomach began to increase, grinding down on Oscar’s length as you desperately chased your release, body shaking as you tipped over the edge.
Oscar wasn’t far behind, the clenching of your cunt brining him to the edge as he cried out, filling you to the brim with his release.
You zoned out for a moment until a familiar whine sounded from beside you, looking over you found Lando with a swollen and throbbing cock.
With a teasing pout you wrapped your hand around his cock replacing Oscar’s much larger one that now rested on the Brits thigh.
“Oscar leave you hanging baby?” You smirked at the boy.
He nodded in reply, the pleasure becoming to strong for him to form anything more than a few mumbles and breathless moans.
You knew he was close when he started thrusting into your hand, his moans raising in volume as his hips began to stutter and soon your hand was covered in his warm release.
He dropped back against the couch, his chest heaving as he recovered from his powerful orgasm after two denied ones from Oscar.
You smiled at your boyfriend before bringing your hand to your mouth, making sure to clean it of Lando’s release before pulling Oscar into a breathless kiss.
It was silent for a while after you two pulled away, a comfortable silence filling the room as everyone regained their strength.
“That was fun.” Lando broke the silence, “But you two will most definitely be paying for that later.” He sat up eyes locking with yours, a dark look swirling in them before he moved onto Oscar.
The Brit went to open his mouth but a knock sounding on the door cut him off before he could.
“Thirty minutes till practice, get dressed please.” Jon announced waiting for a ‘okay’ from Lando before he retreated back to the garage.
The boy below you whimpered as you moved to get off of his softening cock, you whispered small apologies as you slid off moving to stand in front of him as you fixed yourself.
Oscar tucked himself away before standing on shaky legs of his own, his hands pulling you into his embrace as he held you close.
Lando didn’t bother putting himself away, instead stripping down completely and pulling on his fireproofs before his racing suit.
“You gotta go get ready osc.” You cooed in the boys ear, hand running up and down his back.
Oscar frowned at your words a small grumbled escaping him as he held you tighter.
“Just go get your things and get ready in here baby, we’ll be right here when you come back.” Lando spoke up.
With a bit more pushing Oscar finally separated from you, giving Lando a small kiss as he passed on his way to go get his things.
You made your way to sit on Lando’s massage table, the boy coming to stand between your spread legs as you wrapped them around his back.
“As hot as your little stunt was, your ass will be sorry for it later.” He smirked into your neck as he left wet kisses against the skin.
“Don’t tease me now baby.” You smirked earning you a giggle from Lando as he pulled back with a shake of his head.
“What am I gonna do with you huh?”
“Spank me.” You shrugged hands sliding around his neck.
“Who’s getting spanked?” Oscar questioned curiously as he walked back into the room, door shutting quickly behind him.
“Me” you smirked looking up at Lando with nothing but amusement in your eyes.
“Maybe it shouldn’t be a punishment anymore if you like it that much.” The Brit tutted with a shake of his head.
“What do you think osc? should I edge her instead, maybe make her watch me fuck you silly like she made me watch?” He continued looking over at your boyfriend.
“Wait! That’s no-“ you tried but Lando once again spoke up.
“You’re the birthday boy baby, you get to pick.”
Oscar looked at your reddened face, a pout similar to Lando’s earlier one now present as your thighs began to rub together.
“Can I think about it? Get back to you after practice?”
Your eyes almost bulged out of your head at his words, watching as they both zipped up their suits and made way for the door.
“Take as long as you need baby.” Lando smiled, leaning in to give the boy a kiss.
“Wait, boys, can we talk about this now..please?” You questioned as you shoved yourself between them in the hallway, body now squeezed between their frames.
“Sorry baby, duty calls but we’ll see you after Kay?” Lando smirked leaning down to press his lips against yours before moving forward to where Jon was.
“Love you pretty girl.” Oscar spoke, giving you a kiss as well before going to his side of the garage.
“What did I get myself into”
-
Happy very late birthday Oscar! Sorry my writers block was a pain in the ass
#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris smut#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando x oscar#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri#oscar piastri smut#oscar piastri x reader#landoscar#landoscar smut#poly! f1#poly!f1
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have your cake | quinn hughes
warnings: overstimulation, multiple orgasms, oral (fem!receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, coming on reader's body, subspace (not directly called that but gf is DEEP in SOME headspace) pairing: birthday boy!quinn hughes x fem!reader summary: it's quinn's 25th birthday, so fem!reader gives him the chance to do his favorite thing in bed for as long as he would like. wc: 2992
“Thank you for dinner, sweetheart,” Quinn says, bringing his napkin to his face and wiping his mouth. “And thanks for not making my birthday such a big deal.”
He had asked for such, so you were just trying to follow his wishes. The Canucks hadn’t had a game today, so Quinn had gone to practice like normal. He had grabbed a drink with Petey, Garly, and J.T. afterward as a special treat for his birthday. You know that Tocchet had asked catering to make Quinn a singular birthday cupcake, since he isn’t the biggest fan of sweets during the season.
With you, though, he just wanted to spend his time. You made him a steak, his favorite. On the side, you baked a potato and heaped a healthy pile of green beans onto his plate. For fun, you made some cheesy garlic bread, and although he doesn’t normally eat gluten during the season, he’s never been able to deny your fluttering eyelashes and doe eyes.
He cleared his plate. He always does, but you feel especially proud of your cooking today.
“You’re welcome,” you respond. “I’m glad you liked it. Has your birthday been good?”
Quinn nods. “It was a good day. Very calm. It’s still weird without Jack and Luke, but I talked to them earlier. They called me before practice, right after they got out of the gym.” He pauses, reaching out with his palm up so you take his hand. “This dinner is the cherry on top.”
“You haven’t even had dessert yet,” you tell him. “Since it’s your birthday, you get to have your cake and eat it, too.” You’d been thinking about the pun for hours. It might not make the most sense, given the dessert that you’re going to offer him in just a few minutes, but you think you’re funny. You’re on the last few bites of your own dinner, so you want to clear your plate and load the dishwasher before you offer him anything.
“Baby, I don’t need anything sweet,” Quinn says. “I already had something today.”
You take the final bite of potatoes, then swallow. You stand, collecting his plate and stacking it atop your own. “You’ll like it, I promise.”
“What is it?” Quinn asks.
“A surprise,” you tease, winking at him as you rinse the debris off of the plates with hot water. Then, you load the dishwasher and wash your hands, drying them with the towel that hangs near the sink.
“You’re such a tease,” Quinn laughs, pretending to chide you for withholding. He stands from the table and washes his own hands, but as soon as he’s done, he takes the opportunity to get handsy with you. He dries his hands on your clothes, leaving wet handprints over your ass and waist, plus one over one of your tits for good measure.
You twist away from him like you hate the antics, but it’s just the precursor to his dessert, which he doesn’t know yet. Sure, he’s probably hoping to get laid tonight– and it is his birthday, after all– but you had other plans.
Quinn rarely gets to do his favorite thing in bed. Part of that is because you’re both busy and when you fuck, you want to fuck. You like getting to the point where Quinn’s ample cock is buried inside you, filling you with his come, all while he murmurs little nothings about “you’re mine,” “gonna put a baby in you,” or the like.
His favorite thing is to lay between your legs and eat you out until your thighs are squeezing his head and covering his ears and suffocating him. Like you said– you’re normally greedy for his cock, even impatient (which is how he often describes your attitude in bed), but today is Quinn’s birthday.
So, if he wants to, and he will want to, he’ll eat your pussy for dessert. He’ll eat you out until he’s had his fill, no matter how many orgasms it takes. You already set two full bottles of water on the bedside table in your shared room, plus you bought some fruit at the store so that you can recharge when he’s done with you. You’re expecting overstimulation, a fuzzy brain, and maybe even tears as a result of the pleasure.
You’re prepared for anything, because you’re at the mercy of the birthday boy today.
“Go to our room,” you tell Quinn. “I’m going to bring you dessert in bed, okay? I’ll be there in a few minutes. Just let me get everything ready.”
“Good idea,” Quinn says. “Then we won’t have to leave bed afterward.”
You playfully roll your eyes at him and shoo him away, but he’s absolutely correct. That’s the whole point.
Quinn goes, blowing you a kiss just before he walks out of sight because he can’t help himself from being silly when you share a domestic evening together.
Once he’s gone, you pretend to prepare a dish. You open and close the fridge a couple of times, you click the lighter like you’re lighting candles, you remove plates and cups from the cupboard so that he hears the clatter and suspects nothing. As you move around the kitchen, shuffling along inconspicuously, you remove your clothes.
Underneath your normal leggings, t-shirt, and one of Quinn’s Canucks sweatshirts lies your favorite part of the outfit. You’d been planning to do this since the end of September, so you’d had plenty of time to go to Victoria’s Secret and buy yourself a black, lace crotchless teddy. Quinn will get to look up at you in the (not-so cheap) fabric and admire how it fits you without sacrificing his ability to eat you out. There’s no barrier between your cunt and his tongue, despite the fact that you’ll still be clothed.
You have planned everything out to the final detail, to the final possibility, and you might be just as eager as Quinn will be when he sees you.
So that you’ll have something to snack on when he’s done, you actually wash the fruit you bought earlier and put it in a bowl. Holding the bowl in one hand, you politely knock on the bedroom door before entering.
Quinn is already in the process of removing his shirt and getting ready for bed. When you walk in, he turns to meet you. When he sees what you’re wearing, he freezes and his lips part in surprise.
In a second, you watch his expression melt into his typical “my brain has turned off and now the only thing that I can think about is getting my girlfriend in bed” look.
“Happy birthday, baby,” you say, biting your lip as you take in his reaction. You put a hand on your hip and pop it to the side, showing off your outfit.
“Are you my present?” He asks, a slow smile spreading across his face.
“I’m your dessert,” you correct.
“Even better,” Quinn decides, crossing the room and getting his hands on you.
“Wait,” You tell him.
Quinn pouts, but drops his hands to his sides.
You give him a little twirl, revealing the way that your behind is only partially covered by the lace of the lingerie. You move slowly, giving him plenty of time to stare at all of the parts of your body, thoroughly taking you in.
He gives you a low whistle as you turn. You touch his jaw when you’re done, then you turn to the bed. You actually crawl from the foot of the bed, giving him a show.
When you collapse against the pillows, making yourself comfortable. Quinn stares at you, walking to the bed and touching your ankle. He draws a star on your skin, surveying the view.
“What can I– what do you want me to do?” Quinn asks, eyes still raking your figure.
“Whatever you want,” you reply. “It’s your birthday.”
“Whatever I want?” Quinn repeats.
You hum in affirmation. “Your fingers, your cock,” you list. You raise your eyebrows, bringing one of your legs up into a bent position. His eyes are drawn to your core. “Your mouth.”
Quinn’s attention snaps to your face.
“Whatever you want,” you confirm again. “For however long you want. All night, even. Birthday boy.”
“I love you,” Quinn says, climbing up onto the bed and settling between your legs. “You’re perfect.”
“I expect the same kind of treatment on my birthday,” you banter back, moving with his touch. He nudges your knee, so you spread your legs for him.
Quinn doesn’t reply, running his fingers over the fabric that lies on either side of your pussy. He pushes his thumb against your clit, applying pressure but not giving pleasure, not yet.
You take it as a sign that you’re in for a long night. So, you shift and make yourself more comfortable. You look down, watching Quinn.
He’s gentle to start. He presses sweet kiss after sweet kiss to your folds, to your clit which is still hidden. He takes his time.
You’re not sure which is true: if you’re wet of your own accord, or if Quinn’s gentle licks and smeared kisses make you that way.
In the end, it doesn’t matter. You’re wet and Quinn’s getting to do what he loves. You’re comfortable, he’s making satisfied noises as he grows more eager, and everything feels good.
You touch his hair, smoothing it off of his forehead. You tilt your head, admiring him with slow blinks and a serene smile on your face.
Quinn has a one-track mind at the moment. Until he’s drawn an orgasm out of you, he won’t look up and check in.
His tongue teases you, traipsing along your slit and circling your clit leisurely. He’ll run his bottom lip over the skin, letting it drag along your core and create unexpectedly satisfying friction. He’ll nose at your clit, bumping his features along your most sensitive points, just because he can. Quinn’s eyes are closed, fully immersing himself in the moment.
He works his tongue into you over time, at first teasing you with flicks and short dips, but it doesn’t take long for him to grow greedy for more– greedy for your release all over the muscle. It’s then that he licks into you as best he can, using his thumb to stimulate your bundle of nerves. He repeats the same motion over and over– prodding his tongue into you, drawing it out… again and again, all the while he’s pressing against your clit.
Your first orgasm builds slowly. Slow and steady wins the race, they always say, and Quinn is drawing the orgasm out of you like the tortoise in this race. You’re starting to feel a bit jumpy, like the rabbit, your hips aching to move beneath him and grind against his face.
But, this is his birthday present. You restrain yourself because it’s his gift. He gets to set the pace. If Quinn wants to make this the most built-up, desperate orgasm of your life, he’s allowed to do so.
It takes minutes. Minutes of Quinn humming and licking and touching you with the pad of his thumb until you feel yourself start to crest over the wave of your climax.
“Close,” you breathe out.
Quinn pays you no mind, just continuing his ministrations until you’re clenching down on his tongue with a whimper. Your hand clutches his hair, trying not to seize up beneath him as you come, riding out the waves with his tongue still poking around inside of you.
He moves more slowly as you come down from your first, withdrawing his tongue from your cunt and licking over the slick that accumulated after your orgasm.
“Again,” Quinn murmurs. He doesn’t allow you to take a breath before he finds your clit with his tongue and latches on.
He seems committed to making your subsequent releases quick. His mouth feels like the tube of a vacuum against your clit, unrelenting and merciless. He’s sucking, and sucking, and sucking.
Quinn is starting to get sloppy. He’s got slick all over his lips, all over his chin. He stares up at you now, nothing behind his hooded eyes. He’s just taking you in, looking at you from his favorite angle.
His hands are resting on the insides of your thighs, laying securely to keep your legs spread for him. His pupils are dilated, massive and dark. His jaw works– you can see the bones in his face shifting as he tastes you. His face is scruffy as he nuzzles against you.
It isn’t long until you come again, just as strong as the first one. This climax seems to hit you harder, just because it came more quickly.
“Another,” he says into your skin, shifting one of his hands to push a finger into your heat. He doesn’t move his mouth from your clit, only intensifying his suction.
“Fuck,” you reply, halfway between a moan and a cry for… something. A break? For more?
You’re not sure. Things are starting to blur together and turn fuzzy. You’ve come twice without a moment of reprise, because that’s what Quinn wants. You’ll give him as many as he desires, until you physically cannot give any more.
You close your eyes and lose track of time, seeing stars the next time Quinn makes you come. He’s worked up to a second finger now, scissoring them and removing his tongue from your clit to shove it between his fingers. All three are inside of you, bringing you over the crest again.
Then, a third finger and his tongue on your nipple.
Then, again, with his tongue on your other nipple.
Another with his mouth pressing insistent kiss after insistent kiss to your cheeks, lips, and neck.
Your vision is black, then reeling with colors like that scene in Ratatouille when Remy mixes all of those different flavors, then like television static on an old TV.
“One more,” Quinn’s voice comes out of the darkness.
You whine, high in the back of your throat.
“I know, sweetheart,” Quinn murmurs. He’s touching your face, wiping underneath your eyes. “I know. You’re doing so well. You’re being so good for me. I love you so much– give me one more on my cock, okay? Then we’ll be done.”
“Quinn,” you keen, opening your eyes and finding it hard to look at him through the wetness there. You hadn’t realized that the overstimulation had gotten to you so much– but that’s what multiple orgasms will do to you. That’s how you react when your body is experiencing so much pleasure that it’s painful.
“That’s right, baby, I’m right here,” Quinn assures you. You can feel his cock nudging against your entrance, which feels like it’s gaping. You’re certain that your clit is swollen from the stimulation, the excessive stimulation. He sinks into you, inch by inch, cooing quietly to keep you grounded. “You’re so close already, I can feel it in the way you’re squeezing me. It’ll be quick, baby, I promise.”
He continues to talk while he fucks you, telling you how good you’ve been. He tells you how sexy you are, how perfect. He tells you how hard he’s been since you walked into the bedroom in your dirty, pretty lingerie and how he honestly thought he was going to come in his pants when you clenched down on his fingers for the third time and a weak dribble of your cum had dripped down his wrist.
You’re far gone. Sure, you’re there– you can feel him inside, pumping into you and throbbing against your walls. You can feel the way Quinn’s lips move over your own when he kisses you and when he speaks, feeding the words directly into your mouth. His fingers are toying with your puffy clit, and you’re sure it feels nice, but all you can feel is heat and friction.
“Quinn,” you say again.
“Let go,” he instructs under his breath. “Let go for me. Come around my cock, baby.”
You nod, agreeing to a seemingly-impossible task.
Quinn is always able to make the impossible happen. Your final climax manifests in shaking legs and bolts of lightning in your stomach, churning and folding in on itself. Your eyes are squeezed shut, tears leaking from the corners, which Quinn kisses away.
He doesn’t come inside you. After you reach your final peak, he pulls out. He jerks himself above you, continuing to kiss your face and praise you for being so good to him. He comes all over your stomach and you’re glad– if he had come inside you, or somewhere equally as sensitive like your tits, it would be far too much when the time came to clean you up. With his cum on your stomach, he’s able to wipe you down without causing you any discomfort.
When it’s all over, he helps you sit up and drink your water. He kisses your temples and your forehead, your cheeks and your jawline. He surrounds you with one of his big t-shirts, like a massive hug, and he pulls you onto his lap so that you can collapse into the crook of his neck. Quinn rubs your back and convinces you to eat some of the berries you brought into the room earlier.
You’re tired when you’re able to verbalize a full sentence again. You’re exhausted, really. Quinn pushed you to your absolute limit, although you’re not dissatisfied with the way things went. You sought a night where he could do whatever he wanted, which he did, and now you want to sleep.
“Happy birthday,” you muster.
Quinn breathes out a chuckle, cradling your jawline as you stain his neck with a splotchy kiss. “Thank you again for being so perfect,” he says. “You made my birthday so special, baby. Let’s sleep, okay? I’ll cuddle you all night long.”
Within minutes, you’re drifting off to the lullaby of his breath.
#puck-luck's fics#andy writes anything🍄#quinn hughes#quinn hughes smut#quinn hughes fanfiction#quinn hughes x reader#qh43#nhl smut#nhl fanfiction#nhl fic#hockey smut#happy birthday quinn <3
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“happy birthday, pretty boy” - sim jaeyun
part 2 of e(nnn)- (a nnn series)
pairing: switch!jake x switch!fem!reader
warnings: oral (f&m receiving), making out, 69 position, lingerie mentioned, idk what else to put help me
synopsis: while your boyfriend is trying his hardest to win a bet made by his best friends to not have sex for a month, you couldn’t help but give him a little show on his birthday
masterlist!
"jake i'm telling you right now there's no way you're winning that ps5"
"you really have that little faith in me?!"
"have you met yourself? last week you begged me to let you eat me out because you were 'pussy deprived' while i was on my period. it had been 3 days."
your boyfriend sighed in defeat, knowing you were right. but was it really his fault? you were just so perfect, he could never get enough of you!
"well i'm going to prove you wrong, just watch. on december 1st when i'm collecting my ps5 from sunghoon i'll remind you of this very moment," jake said, crossing his arms as he dramatically turned away from you
you laughed to yourself, rolling your eyes at his dramatics. you knew your boyfriend, and you knew there was absolutely no way that he was lasting this entire month, especially with his birthday being a few weeks away. he can tell himself whatever he wants, but you both know in the end, he's not getting that ps5.
______________________________________________________________
it had been two weeks and he was honestly doing way better than anybody expected. everyday the boys waited for a text message saying he lost, some even placing further bets on how many hours days he could last before he lost
"can you believe them?! i was on the phone with hoon earlier and i heard heeseung give jungwon money after saying i lasted longer than he thought! i can't believe theyre making bets on me, like, am i really that horny?" he complained to you as you were eating dinner together
"in their defense, you are a pretty big man whore. i mean, have you seen the videos of yourself from the concerts? licking your lips, showing your abs, grinding the air, they definitely aren't wrong for thinking that. plus i am 100 percent sure they have heard us have sex in the dorms multiple times", you said back to him. everybody knows that jake practically lives off of sex. not in a weird way, but you just energize him so much. with so much stress of being an idol, getting to come home and fuck his frustrations out, or eat you out for hours until you're overstimulated, it's an instant destresser
"well, yeah but, they could at least have a little more confidence in me", he said with a pout, continuing to eat the food you had made for him earlier
"okay you big baby", you said with a laugh, getting up to take your empty plate to the sink to wash
your boyfriend followed soon behind with his empty plate, slightly pushing you out of the way and taking the sponge out of your hand to wash the dishes for you. you smiled at him fondly as you moved to sit on the counter directly next to the sink. you sat and admired your boyfriend, looking so domestic as he washed the dishes in your apartment. you looked forward to the day that he could finally move in with you full-time, after the pressures of being an idol aren't so heavy
"you're staring, pretty girl", he said with a smirk, not moving his attention from the plates in front of him
"yeah cause you're just so handsome", you said not being able to hold back your smile
he giggled a bit at your statement before refocusing on the task in front of him
"so!" you said, clapping your hands together, "what are we doing tomorrow, birthday boy?"
"i didn't really have any plans in mind, probably hang with the boys for a bit, get dinner or whatever then come back and chill here with you. nothing too crazy", he said nonchalantly, turning of the sink and drying his hands as he finished washing everything
"are you serious? its your 21st birthday jakey, you have to do something!" you said, wrapping your arms around his neck as he stood between your legs. because you were sitting on the counter you were eye level with him. he put his hands on your thighs as he looked at you with a smile
"yeah yeah i know but... i dont know. not really in the going out mood, id rather just chill and spend it here with you", he said moving his face close to yours, noses rubbing together. you hummed as you closed the gap between you both, lips molding together as your hands played with the hair at the nape of his neck. he pulled away, rubbing your noses together once more before standing back to look at you
"you sure you don't wanna go out somewhere tomorrow? nothing at all you can think of?" you asked once more, intertwining your hands together
"nothing, i promise. we can go out to eat with the boys and then come back and have a movie night or something. just wanna be with you", he said with a smile. you flushed at his words. even after dating for so long he never failed to make you flustered
"okay, now come on pretty boy let's go to bed, i'm tired", you said, wrapping your arms and legs around your boyfriend to signal him to carry you to your bedroom. he laughed and shook his head before putting his hands under your thighs and picking you up, walking to your room
______________________________________________________________
the next day was filled with multiple surprises for your boyfriend, waking him up to breakfast in bed, giving him a beautiful white gold bracelet you had found for him a few weeks ago, the boys showing up early to your house to give him the gifts they had bought him before all going out to dinner together that night.
you all had a great time, talking and laughing loudly for hours, probably annoying the rest of the patrons in the restaurant. your boyfriend thanked his friends, as well as you for making his birthday such a fun day, but what he didn't know was that you had one more surprise for him.
you had been planning this for a while, being very glad he opted to staying in for his birthday as it helped your plan go smoother. you knew he had that bet with his friends but, we all knew he was gonna lose at one point or another, so why not have it be on his birthday? he wasn't even a big gamer anyways, it wasn't like he would be super disappointed if he didnt get the gaming console.
you were gonna make some excuse to get him back to your place, changing into your brand new black lingerie set you got specifically for this occasion. you knew he loved when you wore black, since it was one of his favorite colors. you hoped the lingerie set would get him to break, giving up on his bet with his friends
after dinner was paid for (thank you jay🙏🏼), your boyfriend bid goodbye to his friends, walking back to your car with you
you drove home in a comfortable silence, his hand on your thigh as you looked out the window, music lowly playing in the background. you were getting excited for your plans, feeling the heat in your core grow as you slightly shifted in your seat
"you okay babe?" jake asked, looking at you slightly
"yeah, i'm fine" you said with a smile, grabbing his hand off your thigh to intertwine it with yours, as the close proximity to your core was getting you more worked up than you already were
you thought you were being slick, but your boyfriend knew about this whole ordeal. he had accidentally seen the lingerie in your dresser, and when he didnt recognize it he figured you had bought it for this reason. and after seeing the way you tried to hide yourself getting worked up during dinner, snd in the car next to him just now, confirmed his suspicions. he smiled to himself before focusing back on the road, feeling your stare on the side of his face. usually he would tease you, but right now he wanted nothing more than to get you home and fuck you til you can't walk
the ride back to your apartment felt longer than usual, your arousal continuing to pool in your panties the more you thought about the night to come. you finally arrived, and jake got out the car quickly to open the door for you, helping you out of the car. he grabbed your hand as he led you inside. he unlocked the door to your apartment, letting you go in first, following behind closely
before you knew it, you were pushed up against your front door, your boyfriends lips clashing with yours passionately as his hands roamed over your body
your eyes widened in surprise, not expecting him to be the one to initiate the intimacy. you soon melted into your boyfriends arms, wrapping your arms around his neck to tangle in his hair as your tongues clashed in each others mouths. he picked you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist, not breaking the kiss as he walked to your bedroom, placing you down on the bed, leaning back to take of his shirt, throwing it across the room before coming back down to kiss you again
"fuck, jakey, what about your bet?" you moaned out as he moved his lips down your neck and chest
"first of all, fuck the bet. second of all, you think i didn't know all about your little plan for tonight? that pretty little lingerie set that you bought just for me. lucky for you, i'm gonna let you save that for another day, right now i just wanna feel you around me" he said as he continued to leave open mouthed kisses down your neck and chest, putting his hands up your shirt to massage your breasts over your bra
you moaned as you moved your hands to take off your shirt, sitting up for a second to lift it over your head, discarding it somewhere in your room
jake moved further down your chest now that he had more access, taking one of his hands to unbuckle your bra skillfully, like he had done it a billion times
after your bra was off, he moved his mouth down to suck your nipples, licking and kissing then as he used one of his hands to roll your other nipple between his fingertips. your hands were in his hair, pulling and tugging on it slightly, making him moan into your breasts, sending vibrations all through your body
"baby please, i need you so bad" you moaned out, becoming impatient
"so needy, my baby. can't believe i was gonna make you wait a whole month without my dick" he said, kissing down your body as he made his way to where you were craving him most
"wait", you said, putting your hand on his head to stop his motions. you put your hand under his chin to pull him back up to your face, before pushing him over so he was under you
he gasped at the sudden movement before smirking at you, immediately putting his hands behind his head
"wanna take care of my pretty boy" you said as you moved down to his dick, kissing and lick his defined abs on the way down. you unbuttoned his pants, pulling them down off his legs before cupping his clothed dick in your hands
he moaned out at the feeling as you palmed him through the thin fabric of his underwear, cursing lowly under his breath
"please don't tease princess, it's been way too long i need to feel your mouth around me already" he said with a whine
"whatever my birthday boy wants" you said, slipping your fingers into the sides of his boxers, sliding them down his thighs. his dick sprung up from the fabric, stand so tall and prettily. you swear his dick was the prettiest one in the world, the veins going up the side were just so perfect, he wasn't bigger than average, but he was so thick, and his tip was so red and pretty, already leaking precum
he groaned as he was finally released from the constraints of any fabrics, moving his hands down to tangle in your hair
you took his dick in your hands as you slowly licked all the way from the base to the tip, your boyfriend moaning out loudly as you did so. you began to suck his tip gently, licking his slit and tasting his precum on your tongue
"fuck, baby, you said anything i want right? i want you to sit on my face please. you take my dick so well in your mouth but i want to taste you too. please baby", he whined out as you continued to suck only the tip. you smiled up at him before standing up to remove your pants and underwear
"of course pretty boy, it's your night" you said as you climbed onto the bed seductively, moving your legs over your boyfriends head so you were hovering above his mouth. you could feel his warm breath on your pussy, and his nose rubbing against your clit. you moaned slightly as you leaned forward to take his dick into your moth again
you began sucking on it harshly, before feeling jake pull your hips down harshly, suffocating himself with your pussy. he was licking and sucking on your clit so well, you could barely concentrate on what you were doing. you continued to bob your head up and down over his cock as he keep eating you out, your moans being muffled by his dick. the vibrations of your moans over his dick made him approach his orgasm faster than usual, already feeling his stomach tighten and his dick twitching in your mouth. he didn't want to cum before you, so he started to speed up his actions, hands tightly gripping your thighs, probably leaving a mark tomorrow
he heard your moans get higher in pitch, and your hips began to grind onto his face slightly, signaling you were close. you continued moving up and down on his dick, hands massaging his balls as you felt his dick twitch in your mouth. your orgasm hit you hard, hips bucking onto your boyfriends face as you tried to continue sucking on his dick, becoming too distracted on by your own orgasm hitting you. jake didn't stop his ministrations, riding you through your orgasm, making sure to lick up every last drop of your juices. your hand continued to move up and down his dick, and you moved your head back down to his dick so he could come too. not long after he was cumming in your mouth, moaning into your pussy sending vibrations and overstimulating you
you gathered all his cum into your mouth, sitting up and turning around so he could see your face as you swallowed it. that was one of his favorite parts when you sucked his dick, getting to see you swallow his load
his hands moved to your waist as you sat over his abs, feeling your juices spread over his stomach. you leaned down to kiss him, and he practically got hard again tasting himself on your lips. you smiled into the kiss as you pulled away, biting his lip before you pulled away and let go
"happy birthday, pretty boy"
you rolled off his stomach to lay next to him, turning your head to look at him with a smile. he looked back at you, returning the smile fondly. he rolled to the side to cuddle into you, but you put a hand on his chest to stop him before he could
"you thought we were done baby? oh no, were just getting started"
a/n: GUYS FINALLY I KNOW ITS OUT AHHHHH. i wrote this all in one sitting cuz i was determined to finally get it out for you guys after weeks of not being able to😭 i hope you guys enjoy, and sorry it’s a little short🥲🥲🥲
taglist (closed!): @yannew @hanienie @beomgyusonlywife @akirakinimi @multifandomgurllll @boutyouwonu @kissmunalodz @5xiang @ibsysbsfsunsbs @guqsnfics @hellaboredd @wvnkoi @kpopslover @heerinnie @climbingmandevillas @rikisly @simeonswhore @lilriswife4life @daegutowns @harrietbarnesblog @wonniie3 @ariadores @yizhoutv @lilizinho @firstclassjaylee @olivehues @ikeusol @bunhoons @electrobutterfly @choijxn @baekxo07 @youronevia @eneiyri @soobery @heeseungshim @furious-eagle @nyxluvethn @jongseongslvr @wonniewonwon @sunsunl0ver @mixtape-racha @jakeslvt @lomlj4ke @neocockthotology @babyy-bambii @fluerz @adriana7863 @trashx678 @yelleloww @brownsugarbaybee @kaislinging-slasher01 @jena4realz @deobitifull @heartzhailey @stuckonclouds @sunoosgf001 @jwnghyuns @auraxyzz @kaisplushies @dazzlingligth @hoseokteardrop
(if your name is NOT greyed out i cannot tag you!)
#jungwon hard thoughts#enhypen#jungwon smut#heewonenthusiast speaks!#heewonenthusiast asks!#enhypen smut#enhypen hard hours#enhypen hard thoughts#heeseung smut#jaeyun smut#jake enhypen#jake fluff#jake sim#enhypen jaeyun#jaeyun fluff#sim jaeyun#jungwon hard hours#jungwon imagines#jungwon fluff#heeseung fluff#heeseung#jay fluff#jay smut#enhypen jay#sunghoon smut#sunghoon enhypen#sunghoon fluff#park sunghoon#enhypen fluff#enhypen imagines
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my favourite birthday girl | j.fisher x reader
request: i would like to request can it be where jere and i are best friends and its my bday belly and conrad throw a surprise bday party for me at the becks beach house and jeremiah & i go upstairs and we go in his bedroom he confesses that he liked me since last summer and i have my first time with jere trying different sex positions like hes on top of me and im on top of him riding him & doing cowgirl style position lots of kissing can it be smut/angst and is it okay if i include my name and if not you can do y/n thanks babe❤️❤️❤️❤️🫶🏻🥰
a/n: i fricking LOVE this!! i had so much fun writing it and i hope you all enjoy!
warnings: SMUT (minors DNI), oral (fem! receiving), swearing, alcohol consumption, and jeremiah being a total sweetheart
—
the sun was shining brightly through the windows of my bedroom, the morning breeze coming through smelling of sea salt. i flutter my eyes open, taking in the warmth of the summer. i reach for my phone that was charging by my bed side. the moment the lockscreen wakes, it’s full of birthday messages.
i feel myself smile as i go through the individual texts from all my friends back home in maine. i respond to them all, thanking each of them for the kind and loving messages.
after doing so, i finally decide that it’s time for me to get out of bed. i stretch out the slumber from my body before crawling out of the warm bed. i grab my phone and my bluetooth speaker and head over to my bathroom to start my birthday right.
cruel summer by taylor swift starts playing loudly as i pull off my pajamas, which was in reality one of jeremiah’s old t-shirts. i decide to text my friends to see what the plans were for the day, assuming they had something in mind.
—
SUMMER GANG☀️🌊🫶
y/n!
goodmorning guys!! what are the plans for today?
stevie:
con and i are going fishing at the pier today
belly <3:
i told my mom that i’ll go to the store with her today!! sorry girl!
y/n!:
that’s fine haha have fun! tell laur i said hi:)
j:
i should be available today i think
connie:
i thought ur coming fishing?
stevie:
yeah!! boys trip!!
belly <3:
wow i’ve nvr seen us all so busy lol
j:
wdym it’s a regular day
connie:
nvm mom says u need to clean ur room jere
stevie:
LOL
belly <3:
so true, it’s gross jeremiah
j:
shut upp
urs isn’t any better bells
belly <3:
:(
y/n!:
stop being mean j
—
i close my phone, a bit disappointed that it appeared that all my friends forgot about my birthday. i try to shake it off and assume that they’re all busy, so remembering a birthday isn’t that big of a deal.
i step into my shower, washing my hair with my coconut shampoo and conditioner, lathering my body with body wash, and shaving every inch of my body. i sing to taylor swift as i shower, feeling my muscles relax in the warm water. i dry myself off with a towel and pull on a cute purple summer dress that i had gotten earlier last week.
after putting on some makeup and doing my hair, i figured that i was ready to go downstairs to see my family. at least they would remember my birthday.
you only turn seventeen once, plus laurel, susannah, and my mom always told me that seventeen is an amazing year.
my mom was preparing my favourite smoothie bowl when i got to the kitchen. her face lit up after seeing me turn the corner and a smile drawn up her face, “happy birthday, my babygirl!” she exclaimed, pulling me into a tight embrace.
i hug her back, “thank you, momma!”
she hands me the beautiful smoothie bowl, “here you go, sugar! let me go get you your presents!”
my mom scurries away to her office before returning with multiple gifts all wrapped up in colourful gift wrap. she places them on the kitchen island before sitting down beside me.
i was already half way done my breakfast when my dad and baby sister came into the kitchen.
“happy seventeenth, babydoll” my dad grins, planting a kiss on my forehead, “i can’t believe how grown up you are already.”
“happy birthday sissy!” my four year old sister yells, hugging my leg. i ruffle her hair, thanking the both of them.
my mom urges me to open up the presents, she had always been a huge gift giver — seeing people’s reactions were her favourite thing. i open the sealed boxes, revealing lululemon clothing, a new ipad, gorgeous jewelry, and some makeup products that i’ve been wanting to get.
“mom!” i exclaim, in shock of the overwhelming amount of gifts, “you didn’t have to!”
“oh, honey,” she coos, brushing my hair, “it’s your seventeenth birthday! of course i had to, do you like them?”
i look at her with my mouth opened agape, “yes, yes! of course i love them all! you know me so well, thank you!”
my arms wrap around my mom, squeezing her tight.
“my first baby,” she whispers into my ear so my sister, lindsay, doesn’t hear her, “i love you with my whole heart.”
i finish up the rest of my breakfast, while also admiring my new items. my dad also takes a few photos of us, most likely to post on his facebook page later. luckily, i look decent right now.
“eat up,” my dad says to me, “your friends are probably waiting for you.”
i shrug, “they’re all busy today.”
my mom turns to me with a raised eyebrow, “seriously? do you want me to call susannah?”
i shake my head quickly, “no! it’s alright, really.”
“i’m sorry, baby” my dad squeezes my shoulder, “you can hang out with us today.”
i give him a small smile, “that sounds good.”
the rest of the day was uneventful, well not exactly. it was moreso just a typical day for us. my sister and i went swimming in our pool, i watched tv with my parents, and scrolled through my phone a ton. i really didn’t want to confront my friends about them forgetting my birthday, it would’ve been immature was what i told myself. it’s not like i’m six anymore.
i was laying on my bed when i received a text message.
—
j:
heyy pretty
wanna come over? we just came back from fishing 🎣
y/n!:
sure :)
j:
awesome! see you soon!!
also wear something nice ;)
y/n!:
why?
j:
not that you don’t always look nice!!!
my mom wants to take photos or smt lol
y/n!:
oooook
—
my brows furrow in slight confusion of the request but i shrug it off. i get up from my laying position and go to my closet to find something ‘nice’. i find a black satin slip dress that i brought from back home, i figured this would be nice enough. i put it on and look at myself in front of my mirror.
i smooth down the material of the dress, checking how it looks from the side and from behind. i silently pray that jeremiah would like it, i’ve overheard him, conrad, and steven talk about how jeremiah is an ass man multiple times — considering how the satin material of the dress perfectly fits my bum, i’m convinced he’ll appreciate it.
i grab my phone, sunglasses, and my favourite lip gloss before heading downstairs. i see my parents cuddled up on the couch, watching a movie together with my sister fast asleep in the space next to them.
i slide on my white converse and head over to them, “i’m going over to the fishers.” i tell them. they smile and remind me to have fun and to be home by two am.
the walk over to the fisher summer home is brief, a quick five minute walk. them living only two houses over from mine always came in handy. i open up the front door before my vision became black.
“do you trust me?” he says, jeremiah’s hands clamped over my eyes.
“if you ruin my mascara, j, i might cry.” i joke, “yes, i do trust you.”
“okay, good.” i can hear his infamous smile in his voice, “come with me.”
he guides me slowly through the house, his hands still over my eyes. jeremiah lifts them off and it takes me a moment before noticing all the decorations put up around the kitchen. there are streamers hanging from the walls and across the ceilings, so many pretty balloons in every corner of the room, a huge ‘happy birthday’ sign hanging on the cupboards.
my hand flyes to clamp over my open mouth, “oh my god!”
steven, belly, laurel, susannah, and conrad all jump up from their hiding spot behind the kitchen island.
“surprise!” they all scream out. i smile widely, taking in everything,
“you guys!” i gush, as im being pulled into a hug from jeremiah, “thank you!”
his muscular arms hold me and he plants two kisses on my hair, “did you really think we forgot your birthday, pretty girl?”
i laugh, “well maybe! you guys are forgetful sometimes… like the time you forgot belly and i at the walmart!”
he rolls his eyes playfully, “oh shush, that was one time!”
“we never forget birthdays here.” susannah giggles before also hugging me, “happy birthday my gorgeous and beaming girl.”
everyone takes their turn in hugging me and wishing me a happy birthday. i thank each of them individually, the smile never leaving my face once.
“who planned this?” i ask laurel, who was carefully pulling out the birthday cake from the fridge.
“it was all belly and connie’s idea” she smiles, “now go sit!”
i take my seat next to jeremiah and steven before laurel brings the cake with seventeen candles on it in front of me. they all sing happy birthday to me and i close my eyes to make a wish.
every year since i was five years old, my birthday wish has been the same. not even just for my birthday, anytime i saw a shooting star, or tossed a penny in a fountain, or honestly any other occasion that required making a wish — it has always been the same.
it was wishing for jeremiah to notice me in the same way that i see him. it’s all i’ve ever wanted, as stupid as it can get.
i blow out all the candles and susannah cuts up the cake into slices before serving it to everyone. belly reminds me of all the birthday presents that they had gotten me, and to open it later.
after cake, susannah and laurel agree to leave the home to go to a cocktail bar so that the kids can have the house to themselves for a few hours. more teenagers from cousins start showing up, all of them wishing me a happy birthday as they come in.
drinks are being served, music is playing loudly off the multiple speakers scatter around the home, beer pong matches are being played by the pool, people dancing.
jeremiah stays next to me for the whole night, we chat with a few of our friends while sipping our seltzers.
“do you wanna go upstairs for a bit?” jeremiah says to me in a hushed tone, “y’know, to get away from this?”
i nod, “yeah, for sure.”
he smiles, taking my hand into his own and guiding me through the crowd and up the stairs. we walk to his bedroom, he closes the door behind me and locks it. jeremiah places his drink on his dresser and offers to put mine next to it, i agree and soon we’re both seated on his bed.
we make small talk, him asking about my birthday so far as he rummages around in his desk drawer. he sits back down beside me, facing me. he places a small velvet box into my hands,
“open it, my favourite birthday girl.” he smirks, looking into my eyes. his hand was on my thigh and i can feel myself blushing.
i think i can get lost in his ocean eyes, they’re so beautiful and full of life. i smile and carefully open it, inside was a gorgeous golden ring with a large (what im assuming was a fake) diamond on it.
“j…” i gasp, lifting the ring out of its box and admiring it, “this must have costed a fortune.”
he shrugs, “anything for you, look on the band.”
i bring the ring closer to my eyes and see that there’s an engraving on the inside of the band.
in love with my best friend <3
my jaw drops, “jeremiah?”
i look up at him, our eyes interlocking. he slowly nods, “i love you, y/n — i’ve always have, i thought it was a childhood crush and i don’t think i really realized until last summer that i truly do love you.”
“can i?” he asks, taking the ring from my hand. i nod and he carefully slips it onto my finger before being it to his lips and kissing it.
i pull him into a kiss, my hands rested on his cheeks and his on my waist. he kissed back almost immediately. my hands move down to his built chest and gently push him down onto his back, our lips never leaving each others. i adjust my legs so im straddled on him,
“i’ve always loved you too.” i whisper against his lips, he smiles into the kiss and kisses me harder.
his fingers fiddle with the edge of my dress, hands sliding up and down the back of my thighs before squeezing my ass slowly, “god, i couldn’t take my eyes off of you in this dress. it makes your body look so fucking good.” jeremiah groans.
i lower my crotch onto the evident tent in his pants, he gasps at the contact while slowly grind my hips on his.
“fuck, you’re gonna make me come in my pants.” he moans into my ear as i flip my hair onto one side. i bring my face to his jawline, kissing it and licking the soft skin. his hands tighten around my ass and i moan at the contact.
his hand slips under my dress and to the lace material of my thong, his finger slide underneath the band of it. he lifts it before letting it go, the snap of my underwear against my skin making me moan louder.
“sit on my face,” he tells me in a low voice, i feel myself getting even more wet and excited at the tone of it, “let me give you another birthday gift.”
he lifts me by the waist and moves me so my core is hovering above his mouth. i grab onto his head board while jeremiah slowly moves the lace material to the side and lowers me onto his face.
i gasp loudly when his tongue licks a long stride between my folds. he moans into me, “fuck, you’re so wet for me, baby.” he mumbles against me, the vibrations causing me to throw my head back in pleasure.
jeremiah dips his tongue into me, licking up all the juices and tracing figure eights against me. i squeeze the headboard tighter, becoming a moaning mess quickly. his tongue is magic. he fucks me with his mouth, my thighs shaking around his head,
“shit, jere.” i cry out, feeling my high coming closer. his hands squeeze my ass yet again before landing a smack on my left ass cheek. i moan loudly in response, my body flowing with immense pleasure, “fuck, i’m gonna come!”
he never slows his tongue as i feel my orgasm come crashing down on me. waves of pure pleasure crashing down. jeremiah licks up every last drop as i slowly come down from the high. i move myself down from his face and back down towards his groin. i lean down to kiss his passionately, tasting myself on his lips,
“holy shit, i can eat you out all day long.” he says to me as his hands fumble with his pants. he kicks off his pants and boxers. his erection slaps his lower abdomen and i drool at the sight of it. it’s huge, red tip begging for attention and veins pulsating on the sides of it.
i move to give him a blowjob but his grip on my waist prevents me from moving, “it’s your birthday.” jeremiah tells me, “you can give me head another time.” he winks
my hips position themselves above his thick and veiny cock and i lower myself onto it. he fills me up perfectly and we both moan loudly at the same time. every inch of him inside on me as i bottom out.
i slowly start rocking my hips against him, both of us becoming a panting mess. his hands never leave my hips, lifting me and slamming me back down onto his dick.
“you feel so good, baby” he praises, “you tight pussy feels amazing around me, fuck”
i continue riding him, my hands tangled up in his hair, pulling it which makes him moan.
“i- i think your cock was made for me.” i whisper in his ear before kissing him harshly.
he smirks, “oh yeah?”
and i nodded feverishly before he flips us around so im on my back and his on top of me, “sorry baby, i want to be in control now”
he pulls out almost entirely before slamming himself back in, the new position making him hit me even deeper than he was before. he thrusts harder and deeper, my back arches and i grab onto the sheets beside me, “fuck i’m close” i cry
“me too, hold on.” he continues fucking me, littering kissing on my face and neck. i can feel my inner muscles squeezing around him which makes jeremiah groan, “i’m fucking gonna come.”
“let it go.” he encourages me, his thumb going down to start abusing the bundle of nerves. almost immediately, i feel myself orgasm. my legs tightening around his waist and i feel him finish inside of me. he releases a series of curse words as he fucks us both through our orgasms.
a few moments after he pulls out and rolls next to me. we’re both breathing heavily, trying to catch our breaths, “holy shit” i pant out, looking over at him.
he grins, “that was amazing.”
“beyond amazing.” i repeat and he laughs,
“fuck, i should’ve asked you this before.” he says, reaching over to cup my face, “will you be my girlfriend, y/n?”
i blush, “yes, a hundred times yes!”
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taglist! @randomaccountworld123 @bxbyyyjocelyn @20nugs @jeremiahxaesthetic
#jeremiah fisher fanfic#jeremiah fisher imagine#jeremiah fisher x reader#tsitp imagine#jeremiah fisher x y/n#tsitp x reader#jeremiah fisher angst#jeremiah fanfic#jeremiah x reader#jeremiah fisher fanfiction#jeremiah fisher fluff#jeremiah fisher smut#tsitp smut#the summer i turned pretty x reader#the summer i turned pretty imagine#the summer i turned pretty smut#the summer i turned pretty fanfic
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Meeting again | Part 1 | Leah Williamson x Reader
Where you take your son to Leah's book signing and you reconnect with your high school friend/crush.
Happy birthday to our blonde pookie!
Meeting again universe | Woso masterlist | Words: 2.7k
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You were doing some work around the house when your ex called. “Hey Ryan, what’s up?” You say as you turn off the vacuum. “Hi y/n, I’m so sorry. I know that it’s my day, but I’m going to be stuck at work until late. Is there any way you can pick up Liam from school and take him to that book signing from Leah?” The two of you had gotten a divorce many years ago, when you had finally come to terms with your sexuality. Ryan had always been understanding, and now you were still friends, and co-parented your son Liam together. “Oh yeah, don’t worry, I can do that.” You could hear the relief in his voice. “Thank you so much, I owe you one. He has a half day, so he should be done at school in about an hour. I packed his Arsenal jersey and scarf, he wanted to wear them to the signing. Thank you again, I have to go. Send me pictures of the signing?” Your kid would always be your number one priority, so you hung up the phone and got ready.
“Hey bud, your dad is stuck at work, so I’m going to take you to Waterstones later, is that okay?” The boy greeted you with a hug. “Yes, of course, you’ll get to see Leah again!” Back in high school you and Leah were very close, there was even some gossip about the two of you dating, but when you got wind of that you shut those rumours down quickly by starting a relationship with Ryan, a relationship that drove a wedge between your friendship with Leah. Your love for the women’s game continued to grow though, and you have supported Arsenal all your life, just like Leah. Liam fell in love with it too, and you often found yourself amongst the crowd of Arsenal WFC and Lionesses matches together. Liam was a smart kid, and after finding you looking at TikTok videos of Leah, he started asking questions. “Watch it, or we’re not going.” You said with a fake seriousness. Liam knew full well that it was an empty threat as you loved messing with him.
You decided to make it a special day for your son, by taking him out for lunch before heading over to Waterstones. It was to no surprise to you that he wanted to go to his favourite restaurant. “Smile for your dad.” The boy looked up from his plate with a big grin on his face. Proudly wearing his Williamson jersey and his Arsenal scarf.
The line at Waterstones was long, but you bought the book and joined the line together. You could tell he was excited just by the way his eyes lit up, and his smile was constantly present on his face. His excitement made you glad that you were able to join him on this occasion, but it didn’t trump your nerves of seeing Leah again. Of course, you had seen her play, but you were always just a person in the crowd, and now you were going to be face to face with the girl you’ve had a crush on since you were fifteen.
Never in your life had you been so nervous to see someone from your past, but you set it aside for your son, this was his moment. Plus Leah would probably not even remember you, right? You were a nobody, and she was the England captain and the Arsenal co-captain.
When it was your turn, Liam walked up to the signing table, while you stood back to take pictures. “Hi, what’s your name?” You heard the blonde ask your son. “I’m Liam, it’s very nice to meet you. My mom is a big fan of yours as well.” The sneaky little bastard, you thought as your eyes met Leah’s. Her eyes showed instant recognition. ‘Yours?’ she mouthed your way, and you answered with a nod. “It’s very nice to meet you too Liam, want to come over to this side for a picture?” Leah signed the book, and wrote something on one of the cards laying to the side as Liam made his way around the table. “I see you’re repping my jersey! You know what would go great with that?” He shook his head. “This new cap, would you like one?” Liam looked over to you with hopeful eyes, “Can I mom?” You smiled at the interaction between Leah and your son, “Yeah, of course.” He turned back to Leah, “Thank you so much!” The two posed for a picture. “Any time Liam. Here is your signed book, and could you please give this card to your mom?” He grinned big when he saw a written phone number on the back of the card. “Thank you Leah!”
“Mom! I got you her number, you have to call her!” You look at the card that Liam handed you ‘Would love to catch up, send me a text if you’re up for it :)’ along with her cell. You looked between the card and Leah, who shot you a smile before returning to the next person in line. “Please tell me you’re going to send her a text, please!” Liam was tired of always seeing you admire Leah from afar, and now that you had a real shot to reconnect with her, he wanted you to take it. Plus how cool would it be if his mom would go out with the Leah Williamson? You pocket the card, “Maybe later, you little snitch. I thought we had a deal.” You say playfully as you put your arm around his shoulder. Quite frankly it scared you a little to send her a text. “Let’s head home.”
When you got home you put Leah’s number in your phone and stared at the message screen forever, trying to decide what to text her. You really wanted to reconnect with her, but you also didn’t want to overcompensate, and ruin any chance you had. You settled on something simple, letting her make the next move.
You: Hi Leah, it’s y/n. It was good seeing you today, catching up sounds nice.
You hadn’t expected to get a message back from her so soon.
Leah: So glad we ran into each other. Talk about the details later?
The message notification was staring back at you, your heart was beating out of your chest simply from her message. You quickly put your phone away, without opening her message when Liam walks in. “Mom, you know that I want you to be happy right?” You nod, “Of course, I know that kiddo. What makes you say that?” He shrugs, “I just don’t want you to hold back because of me.” You shake your head, “You’re too smart. I love you, kiddo.” He hugs your side, “I love you too, mom.”
The two of you were hanging out at home, when Ryan called again. “Hey, thank you for sending me those pictures. They really made my day, glad to see him so happy.” You notice the exhaustion behind his words, “Yeah of course, I don’t want you to miss out on stuff because of your job.” Liam was so important to the both of you, but your divorce had led to missing some things here and there, that you always tried to minimise together. “Speaking of work, I should be done around eight. You know I hate to ask, but-” You interrupted him, “You don’t have to ask, of course. Pick him up whenever you are done, okay?” You heard the relief in his voice, “Thank you. Can I talk to him for a moment?” You walk over to Liam and hand him the phone, “It’s your dad.” After handing him your phone, you give him some space to talk to his dad.
You continued vacuuming since you weren’t done when you had to pick up Liam from school. So, you didn’t hear the interaction with Ryan, or when the call was over, and definitely not when you got another phone call. Liam looked at the contact and smirked to himself. When he realised you didn’t hear the phone call, he picked up himself. “Hi Leah, it’s Liam.” The girl had not expected your son to pick up, but she went with it anyway. “Hey Liam! How did you like the book signing?” He told her how much he enjoyed it before Leah continued with her questions. “I was looking for your mom, is she around?” If it were a video call, Leah would have seen the mischievous look in Liam’s eyes, but since it was a voice call he could hide behind the screen. “She is a little busy right now, but she said she wanted to invite you over for dinner tonight if you had time.” Leah knew she should’ve questioned it more, but she wanted to see you so badly, that she set up dinner plans with your son.
Just ten minutes before Leah said she would be there Liam came walking up to you. “Hey mom, so I kind of invited Leah over for dinner tonight.” Never in your life had you turned around so quickly, “You did what?” You could not believe what your son had just told you. “She will be here in-” His sentence was interrupted by the doorbell. “Now.” He said with a big smile. You were frozen in place, Leah Williamson was at your door, and you were in sweats and a tank top, your hair a mess from the house work you had been doing for the past hour. “Are you going to let her in?” You turned to Liam, “You are going to be in so much trouble later.” Again, Liam knew there was no actual threat behind your words, because that’s not how you parented.
On your way to the door, you tried to quickly fix your hair. You open the door, “Oh hi Ryan, you’re here early.” He smiles back at you, “Yeah our last meeting got cancelled, sorry I didn’t let you know.” You shake your head, “No, no it’s okay. Liam, your dad is here!” The boy came running into his dad’s arms. “You’re here!” The bond between them was amazing, he truthly loved the both of you equally. “Have you had something to eat yet?” Liam shakes his head, “How does McDonald’s sound?” You grab Liam’s bag, and give him a quick kiss on his cheek, before waving the both of them off.
As soon as you closed the door, you ran up the stairs to quickly get changed, and look more presentable. You had just finished doing your hair when your doorbell rang again. This time it was Leah standing on the other side of the door. “Hi Leah, come in.” She looked so beautiful in her simple white t-shirt and a pair of green cargo pants. “Hey y/n, thank you. No Liam?” She questioned when you walked her further into the house. “He wanted to be here but his dad came to pick him up a little bit ago. I’m sorry to say that McDonald’s has been picked over dinner with you.” You joke, hoping to make the moment a bit lighter. Hearing Leah’s laugh brought you back to those days where you would sit on the grass, and make fun of the boys on the football team.
“So, Liam is a big fan of football then?” Leah started awkwardly. You loved talking about him, so you just started talking. “Yeah, I started taking him to matches when he was still a little baby. He loved it ever since, I can’t go to an Arsenal match without him nowadays. A gooner from the start, just like you.” Leah blushed slightly. “So, you’ve been coming to our matches all this time?” Now it was your turn to blush. “Maybe.” The both of you laugh. “Ryan surprisingly never got into football, so it’s been something I get to share with Liam.” The name you mentioned caught Leah’s attention. “Wait Ryan is Liam’s dad? You actually married high school Ryan?” You realised that bringing his name up was probably a mistake since he is what drove the two of you apart. “Oh yeah, high school Ryan indeed. Liam’s dad indeed, and I did marry him. We haven’t been married for like five years though.”
Leah’s ears perk up at that. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” You shrug your shoulders, “It’s all good, it was time I finally figured out my sexuality. We’re still friends, and he's great with Liam. Anyways, how have you been?” The two of you start talking and catching up, and somehow even though more than a decade had passed and you had lived such different lives, it felt like you had never not known each other.
You walk into the kitchen together, still talking, when the both of you start getting hungry. That is when you realise that you had to go to the grocery store today, and didn’t have much in the house. “So, confession time. I didn’t actually know you were coming over until Liam told me about ten minutes before you arrived.” Leah laughed, “I had a feeling the invite wasn’t extended by you, but I didn’t want the opportunity to go to waste.” You blush at her words. “I am very happy that you are here, don’t get me wrong. I was just not prepared. It was Ryan’s day with the kid, but he got stuck at work so I didn’t have a chance to go to the grocery store like I had originally planned. Let’s see, I have Potato Smileys, and literally nothing else. I am so sorry.” Leah did not care what you would eat one bit, she was just happy to be there with you. “Good thing I love Potato Smileys then!”
You shared a laugh at the situation and decided to make the best of it. While the Potato smileys were in the oven, you set the table with some condiments to go along with them. As you were waiting for the Smileys to cook, you and Leah fell back into conversation. You were reminiscing over old times, and shared stories from the past years since. It was easy talking to her, it really felt like no time had passed.
Once you were done with dinner, you moved to the living room where you each found a comfortable place on the couch to continue catching. Before you realised it, hours had passed by. Leah looked at her watch, and noticed the time first. “Oh it’s late, I hadn’t realised so much time had passed.” You glance at the clock yourself, “Wow, yeah it is. I’m really glad you came over tonight, catching up with you has been great.” Leah smiled in return, “Yes it was, I’ve missed this. I hope we can hang out again soon!” You walk her to the door, “For sure! Liam and I will be at the match Sunday, maybe we can do something after? If you don’t mind him tagging along of course.” Her smile grew big, “I would love that, and for Liam to tag along always!”
As you said goodbye, and Leah got into her car you couldn’t help but feel hopeful for what the future might hold. Just having Leah back into your life in whatever way possible made you extremely happy. Tonight had been so nice, and you really wanted to see Leah again soon, Sunday didn’t feel soon enough. So, you decided to send her a message. You felt less nervous sending this message than the one this afternoon, but still there were some nerves.
You: Would you maybe want to grab a coffee sometime this week? I’d love to meet up sooner than Sunday.
As you were getting ready to go to bed, your phone dinged with a new message.
Leah: I know a great spot! Are you free tomorrow?
You smiled at the text, Leah proposing tomorrow had to mean she wanted to see you again soon too, right? You quickly let her know you’re free, before sending her a goodnight message and calling it a night. Though, your mind kept you up for a while longer, not wanting to let go of today just yet.
Continue reading part 2!
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#meeting again universe#leah williamson#leah williamson imagine#leah williamson x reader#arsenal wfc imagine#arsenal wfc#arsenal women#awfc imagine#awfc x reader#awfc#woso#woso imagine#woso imagines#woso x reader#engwnt x reader#england lionesses#engwnt#engwnt imagine
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I know youve probably been getting a ton of rempe request which I have to add to it too (I’m so sorry) but a good enemies to lovers with a bit of angst would be 😮💨
Party’s Over
Words: 3.49k
Featuring: matt rempe x female reader
Genre: angst, fluff; enemies to lovers
Summary: who the fuck invited matthew rempe to your birthday party?
“So, guess what Braden just told me.”
Your friend setting her phone down after reading a text from her boyfriend, an awkward smile on her face. “No, absolutely not, tell him no!”
Not needing her to even give the answer you were already fully aware of what Braden had said. But there was no way in hell you were okay with it.
“If those boys dare to bring Matthew Rempe to my apartment, they are going to get beers thrown in all of their faces!” She laughed as you pointed to the case of beers you were getting unboxed into an ice bucket for the guys to dig into once they arrived. The rest of the girls just silently munching on chips and queso as they all knew this saga between you and Rempe all too well. And as much as they would love for you to join the club and start dating a Ranger like the rest of them, they weren’t planning on that being Matt.
While you loved all of their boyfriends, the one Ranger you couldn’t stand was Matt Rempe. From the day you two met he had gone out of his way to be nothing but a dick to you. Constantly ragging on you, taking jokes too far, and now he was going to be in your apartment. No doubt any little action of his would piss you off to your maximum, simply because he was in your place.
“Look, it’s your birthday, I don’t think he will be an asshole to you today. Plus, they are already on their way here. What are they gonna do, throw him out of the car?” “Yes! That sounds like a great plan!” Rolling your eyes you finished setting up the appetizers and drinks before the guys arrived.
“Hello hello? We heard there’s a birthday going on?” Vinny Trochek called out before the boys filed into your apartment, each of them with a significant other soon joining them, the few single guys and girls introducing themselves as everyone was grabbing drinks and getting food.
You had greeted everyone but were also too preoccupied with being a host, in hopes that it would distract you from how angry you were with Matt being in your apartment.
“Y/n…it’s your party and you’re making drinks for people. What the fuck? Go drink, mingle.” Braden’s girlfriend quick to take the bottle of Tito’s from your hand and push you toward the kitchen island, your sudden presence stopping a conversation between Matt and Chris Kreider. “Oh I’m sorry, did I interrupt something?” You glared at Matt, your tone a bit harsh as he sipped his beer. “Actually yeah, Matt was just saying how good you look tonight.”
Shaking his head in protest, Matt quickly swallowed down his beer, “more like the opposite. I said no such thing, don’t flatter yourself.” He smirked at you while Chris just shook his head, hating the constant immature bickering between the two of you.
“How about, you take that beer bottle, and show it up your ass Rempe? I think that would be such a fun party trick.” Flashing a fake smile you quickly left the kitchen, heading to your bedroom to cool off.
Glancing at yourself in the mirror, you began to second guess your outfit.
knock knock
“Y/n, what’s up? Chris said you stormed off after Matt made some smartass comment. Are you okay?”
“Do I look okay? Like, should I be wearing something different?” Chris’s wife Francesca rolling her eyes as she took a seat on your bed. “Really? Rempe said shit about your outfit and now you want to change? Have you ever thought that maybe the two of you just need to fuck and get it over with or something? I really think this whole act you’ve got going on needs to stop.”
Ignoring her comments completely, you went right to your closet, pulling out a white short sleeved bodysuit and a new pair of jeans. Quickly pulling them on and then pairing them with some heeled black boots.
“Okay, thoughts?”
Francesca lightly chuckling at how self conscious you’d become the second Matt said anything negative about how you looked. “I mean, you look hot as fuck. But, I feel like you’re trying to look good for him now.”
“Don’t be silly, I’m simply just trying to look hot and make him eat his words. And if the boy starts drooling about my tits practically being on display, that’s his problem not mine. Now let’s go do a shot!”
After you reappeared from your bedroom, newly clothed, you couldn’t help but notice how Matt’s demeanor had changed. He kept his distance and didn’t say a word to you. Though he didn’t have to, his eyes on you almost constantly and you were happy to know he was eating his words.
Three rounds of shots later, everyone was piling into Uber’s to head out, of course everyone finding it funny to put you and Matt in the same car, as well as make you both sit in the back seat together. Keeping your back somewhat to him, you tried to not as much as bump him with an arm or a leg, though his hand had tapped you multiple times as his arm was draped across the back on the seat.
Once at your destination you quickly pulled out your lip gloss and turned on your front camera to aid in your application.
“You know, I never understood the point of lip gloss. Like, it’s just gonna come off on your drinks or when you kiss someone.”
Matt practically whispered in your ear as he peeked his face into the view of your camera, making you roll your eyes. “Yeah well,” turning to face him, you hadn’t noticed how close his face was to yours, causing you to swallow a breath, “guess you’re in luck, I definitely won't be kissing you tonight.”
The group headed inside the club, having a table reserved at the back as to hopefully not draw too much attention having a handful of the Rangers with you. Everyone getting comfortable and situated with drinks as you threw back a few shots to erase the backseat interaction with Matt from your mind. This was your birthday, you were not going to let that cocky asshole ruin it.
The night had so far consisted of Vinny Trocheck getting so drunk he attempted to dance shirtless in your section, Chris and Matt competing to see who could chug their beers the fastest, and you losing track of just how many drinks and shots you’d had. But one thing you knew for sure was that you were about to pee your pants.
“I’ll be right back, bathroom.”
Slowly making your way through the crowd by yourself, Matt’s eyes followed you, making sure you made it to your destination. “Dude, cut the shit. This tough guy act, being dick to her. It’s not working for you.” Matt scoffed, taking a sip of his beer, “Krieds, I have no clue what you’re talking about.” He tried denying it, but Chris could see exactly what Matt thought he was doing. And despite his efforts, majority of the guys could see right through him. “All I’m saying is, for someone who dislikes her so much, you sure do care a lot making sure she made it to the bathroom safely.”
“Look, there’s a difference between me not liking the girl but knowing how to be a decent human being. Should I want her to not make it safely? Gosh Krieds now you sound like the asshole.” Matt attempted to put an end to the conversation, turning away from Chris, though keeping an eye on the bathroom.
After what felt like a thirty minute wait, you were able to evade peeing your pants in public and were headed back to your party. Though not before a drunk guy could try and creep on you, immediately making you remember why you didn’t go out to clubs anymore.
“Hey beautiful, you here alone?”
“Nope, actually here with friends.” Flashing a soft smile you attempted to brush past him in the hall, but he moved with you. “Oh, so you’re the one celebrating a birthday. How about I get you a drink?” Again flashing a smile you shook your head, “no thank you, we are stocked on drinks. I’m good.” The drunken man catching up to you as you could barely maneuver your way through the crowd. His hand snaking around your waist as he pulled you into him. “How about more than just a drink then?”
Immediately pushing against his chest to get out of his grip, you questioned the man but he didn’t let go. However soon enough, another arm reaching around to pull you free, to which you were surprised. Ready to thank the individual who likely saw the event and stepped in, until you saw the face of Matt Rempe appear next to you.
“Pretty sure that’s not any way to treat a lady. You wanna tell me why you put your hands on her?” Rolling your eyes you didn’t bother to stick around for Matt to be the hero and ask for your praises. Matt noticed you run off, but made sure the drunken man wouldn’t cause any more trouble for the night. Heading back to the table and immediately downing a shot before asking your friends to dance.
It was now 2am and you were down for the count, not able to hold your head up and just wanting food and your bed. Your friends helping you to your uber as everyone was more than happy to head home for the night. None of them partying like this in awhile and already anticipating the hangovers that were on the horizon.
“Okay, so as much as I want to take y/n up to her bed, I’ve got to get Chris home before he’s knocked out and I can’t deal with him alone.”
Francesca doing her best to keep Chris awake next to her as you were in the back seat once again with Matt, though you were oblivious to that as you were asleep with your head on his shoulder. “I can take her.”
Francesca a bit shocked at Matt’s offer to help. “You sure you’re not just gonna take her up there and draw on her face or something to mess with her?”
“Oh come on, I’m not that much of an asshole.”
Matt laughed, shaking his head as he looked down at you sleeping.
“Y/n…Y/n, wake up. We are back at your apartment.” Your eyes slowly fluttered open as Matt was attempting to help you out of the Uber. “I can do it myself.” Pulling your arm away from him as you were adamant about getting yourself inside, though only stumbling up the sidewalk and practically breaking your ankle in the process. “Y/n, just let Matt help you please. I gotta get Chris home before he’s sleeping on the street tonight. Stop hating him long enough for him to get you into bed.”
“I will never let this man get me into his bed!”
Francesca shaking her head with a sigh, “that is not what I meant, Jesus Christ…Matt, please let me know if you need anything. But I gotta get this man home.”
Matt laughed as Francesca guided a drunken Chris to their car, knowing that he would never let him live down this moment of being carried by his wife because he couldn’t hold his alcohol.
“Alright, let’s get this over with.”
Matt put a hand to your lower back as he helped guide you inside, trying his best to keep his distance so as to not upset you any more than he already had. The ride in the elevator was silent as you just stared at the numbers slowly counting up until you had reached your floor. Doing your best to walk to the door without issue, though now you were in for it as you tried to fumble with your keys and unlock it.
“Can I-” “No, I got it.”
Quickly opening the door you tossed your bag on the counter, soon collapsing on your couch. Not caring that the walk to your bed would have been only sixty seconds more, you needed to be horizontal and not in these boots any longer. Trying your best to kick off the boots, but having no luck, Matt soon came over to help. Your need for the boots to be off stronger than your want to be Miss Independent.
“I guess I will get you some water, heat up some of the food from earlier…”
His voice trailed off as he walked to the kitchen, your eyes opening to watch him. Why was he being nice all of a sudden? You didn’t like it, after he had made it his mission to be an asshole, all of a sudden he starts trying to be nice? He was clearly trying to get something out of you, praises or thanks for stepping up and taking care of you. Most likely to rub it in your face later and laugh at you for thinking he was a changed man or something.
“I don’t need your help, you know. I can do all of that myself.”
Matt just ignored you, continuing with making you a plate of food before he brought it over to you on the couch. He smiled softly as he held out the plate, and as much as you were starving, you couldn’t bring yourself to accept anything from him. “Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what?”
He looked at you confused before setting the plate on the island in the kitchen. “Pretending like you care! Trying to be some hero and swoop in to save the day. You know what your problem is?”
“What’s my problem?” He leaned against the island, crossing his arms as he let you continue with airing your frustrations.
“You think that anyone is going to fall head over heels for you and just give you everything you want. You’re so full of yourself. And then, the second a girl doesn’t fold for you, you treat her like shit, like how you did with me. Do you know how annoying it is? Being friends with all those guys, and you’re the only one who hates me? Who talks shit about me, bashing me whenever he can? I fucking changed my outfit tonight because you made me feel like shit about myself! And for what? Because I didn’t drop my pants for you the first day we met or something? Get a fucking grip, and stop thinking so highly of yourself. I didn’t need your help at the bar, and I don’t need your help now if you’re only doing it to hold over my head later or try to use it against me. I don’t need you trying to embarrass me for ever thinking you were actually a nice guy and gave a shit. So if you’re only doing this to look good to everyone else, then please leave.”
You stomped off to your room to change, needing your jeans off and sweats on. Removing your bodysuit and replacing it with a hoodie, a deep sigh leaving your lips as you pulled the fabric over your head.
knock knock
“What!”
Glaring towards the door you saw Matt slowly appear from behind the frame. His demeanor a bit defeated as he tossed a small box onto your bed. “Here.…happy birthday. I’ll call an Uber then head out.”
Your angered facade fading as you looked from Matt to the small box on your bed. Only moving to open it once you’d heard him head back down the hall. As you untied the blue ribbon, you lifted the lid to reveal a beautiful necklace of your birthstone that you had been eyeing for months. Instantly your heart sank, regretting all the words you just spat at him. But, you weren’t actually feeling bad for Matt, or regretting something negative you said to him, you couldn’t. Because you were supposed to hate each other. Though this was an expensive ass gift for someone to buy if they hated you.
Setting the necklace down on your dresser, you darted out of your room and down the hall. Stopping in your tracks when you saw Matt still in your kitchen. “Sorry, I’m leaving, it's just raining and I figured I’d wait until my Uber got closer. I’ll be out of your hair in a minute.”
He went back to his phone as you could tell he was embarrassed and upset. Clearly this not being how he planned for the night to go, and you shared in the embarrassment for all the things you’d just said.
“Matt….how did you?”
Playing with the hem of your hoodie you awkwardly closed the distance between the two of you, eventually resting on your forearms against your kitchen island.
“Francesca told me you’d been eyeing it for months. I asked what was something I could you for your birthday, I wanted it to be something nice, special. But, clearly I fucked that up because I’m such an asshole.”
He wasn’t even making eye contact, his voice low as he mumbled his responses, shrugging it off like it was nothing. But it was clearly something.
“I just, I don’t get it…why get me such a nice, thoughtful, expensive gift. If you hate me?”
Matt laughed, finally looking up from his phone. “You really don’t get it do you? I don’t hate you y/n, it’s actually quite the opposite. When Chris told you earlier I was talking about how good you looked, he wasn’t lying. I really did think you looked good. And I felt awful when you went and changed clothes. I mean, you still looked hot as hell, but I felt bad that you thought I really didn’t think you looked good.”
He locked his phone and set it on the island as he made his way over to you.
“I acted that way because I've never met a girl like you. For starters, you never seemed interested in me, and I didn’t know how to take that. You were hard to read, and I thought if I messed with you, I would learn your personality. But you only dished shit right back at me just as I gave it. So I thought you weren’t interested and truly did not like me. Not to mention, coming into this group of people, when everyone is close already. I was trying my best to fit in, but I’m awkward okay? I wanted you to like me, and I fucked that up, clearly!”
You laughed along with him as he ran a hand through his hair. “And, I thought tonight I would fix things. I’d be able to give you that gift, and apologize for all the shit I started. But then, you got so mad at me when I tried helping at the club. And then when we got back here, I know I brought it on myself with being such a dick. But, I figured, there was zero chance I even got to make this right.”
“Well…” You sighed as you walked closer to him, your brain still trying to make sense of all this. “How about we start over? Blank slate, and we can forget everything. Stop this pretending like we hate one another and just be ourselves?”
Holding out your hand, Matt smiled before accepting and shaking it. “I’m Matt.” “I’m y/n.”
The two of you chuckled to yourselves, soon moving to the couch after you’d reheated the food Matt got for you which was now cold.
“Oh, um, aren’t you gonna cancel your Uber?”
Matt looked at you with a sheepish grin, “I never called an Uber.”
Your jaw dropping to the floor as you punched his shoulder. “Oh, so somehow you just magically thought things were going to work out and we’d be sitting right here on this couch? You thought you could easily just win me over and get a second chance with me? Matthew Rempe I swear to-”
Before you could finish your threat, Matt had placed his lips on yours, cutting you off with a kiss. Though shocked by the action, you didn’t fight it. Relaxing into the kiss before he pulled away.
“I just figured, with that gift I got you we were a little past first introductions.”
“You know, you’re lucky your cute Matthew Rempe…”
“Oh, so you do think I’m cute? I knew it!” He shot you a cocky grin as he dipped a chip in some queso. “We still have plenty of beer bottles, don’t make me bash you on the head with one.”
“Sweetheart, I get punched in the face on almost a nightly basis, I think I could handle a little beer bottle.”
#matt rempe blurb#matt rempe fic#matt rempe imagine#matt rempe fluff#matt rempe x reader#matt rempe#matt rempe angst#nhl imagine#nhl fics#hockey imagine#nhl fanfiction#hockey fic#nhl blurb
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the library
love and cigs, merc
(!) indicates smut, (✯) are my faves
!'I don't know how to forget you' ✯
matt and y/n have been best friends their whole life, but after a drunken kiss and a night of tangled limbs, everything is changing.
‘I get them too, sometimes'
y/n has an anxiety attack and Matt calms her down the only way he can think of in the moment (based on the ICONIC stydia scene)
'lets just stay here for a while'
{part two of 'I get them too, sometimes' } anxious!reader has an anxiety attack so bff!matt kisses her to calm her down, after, they agree to not go back to the party and just hang out with each other for a while.
!'Dinner and a show'
Matt and his girl go to dinner, but little does he know she has something planned for him when they get home.
!‘never have I ever; shared a girl with my brother' ✯
Matt and Chris’ best friend takes an innocent game of ‘never have I ever’ as her opportunity to ask the boys something she’s always wondered
!'Birthdays in Boston' ✯
a prequel to 'I don't know how to forget you', and the full story behind the photo of Matt and y/n on the fridge
!'save a horse...'
you and Matt go to a ranch for your anniversary and end up finding an old abandoned barn, taking the perfect opportunity to live your true wild west fantasy.
'teenage dirtbags', Intro, part I, part II
Skater!Matt and Overachiever!reader have never gotten along, but after Matt needs her help passing philosophy, everything starts to change.
'gloves off'
Hockeyplayer!Matt is on the ice, and a guy from the other team says something about his girl, so Matt deals with him
!'It's 2am, and I miss you'
You and Matt broke up months ago, but he cant seem to get you out of his head.
!‘need to taste you’
ex!matt is in his feelings, and they’re all directed at you….
!’flashing lights’
you and matt discover his new LED lights have a clap on/off setting, and take full advantage of it.
‘cherry cola’…incoming
you ask for Matts assistance in dying your hair red
‘it’s so obvious’…incoming
the boys’ best friend joins them for a stream, and fans notice the tension between her and Matt
!’english love affair’…incoming
Matt and his brothers go on tour in the UK, and whilst in a crowded london bar, he meets a girl that he can’t get out his head
!’I know you will’…incoming
you’ve been desperate for matt all day, and you’re finally alone
'you've thought about that?'...incoming
You join Matt at a family wedding as his plus one, and all he can think about is how he can't wait to marry you
...more tbd
'are you still awake?'
Chris and y/n had a stupid fight, but he refuses to go to bed angry
!'just need t'feel you around me'
part two of 'are you still awake?', Chris can't keep his hands off y/n once they make amends after an argument.
'Chris likes girls who don't like him back' ✯
Late night streaming with your best friends turns to a conversation about the boys' type, and Chris gets called out.
!‘never have I ever; shared a girl with my brother ✯
Matt and Chris’ best friend takes an innocent game of ‘never have I ever’ as her opportunity to ask the boys something she’s always wondered
!’take it’
You and Chris have had sex a thousand times, but this time, after a dirty comment you thought nothing of, Chris’ secret obsession comes to light
'lazy days'
Sometimes you just need a pretty girl on your lap and some good music, and that’s what Chris has with his girl.
'do you trust me?'...incoming
something about Chris in a headband makes you feel weak at the knees
!’it’s always been you’…incoming
(part two of ‘chris likes girls who don’t like him back’), Chris and his best friend can’t keep pretending that there’s nothing between them
!'I can make you feel better'...incoming
Chris has been in a mood all day, and theres only one thing that will get him out of it
...more tbd
*indicates fratboy!mattXreader | *indicates fratboy!chrisXreader | **indicates interaction with both (if it's both, fb!matt is always the romantic interest)
*!'you're much better company, tough girl' ✯
fratboy!matt has met his match with smartand'mean'!reader, and he can't get enough of her
*she's the coolest person I know'
fratboy!matt tries to play it cool about him and smartand'mean'!reader spending alot of time together, but fratboy!chris and nate aren't convinced
*'stay the fuck away from her'
fratboy!chris leaves shy!reader alone at a party for the first time and it goes south, quickly.
**'what the fuck is wrong with you?' ✯
fratboy!matt calls smartand'mean'!reader after the fight, telling her she needs to come look after shy!reader, but after she finds out what happened, she lays into fratboy!chris, giving him the reality check he needs.
*!'you look like this song'
smartand'mean'!reader is getting ready in fratboy!Matts room, listening to Nirvana, and he can't keep his eyes off her.
**an unlikely friendship' ✯
fratboy!chris needs a girls help with a deal, and the only girl he knows he can trust, is fratboy!matts.
*fratboy!matt and smartand’mean’!readers insta launch
“yeah my boyfriends pretty cool…but he’s not as cool as me”
*'boyfriend' ✯
smartand'mean'!reader goes to one of fratboy!matt's freshers parties, and has a run in with a boy that doesn't end well.
*'beast boy and raven'
smartand'mean'!reader convinces fratboy!matt to dress up for halloween
**!'all I wanted'...incoming
fratboy!matt and smartand'mean'!reader find themselves at their breaking point
!'lemme jus' put it in
how and when Chris/Matt would beg for you to cockwarm them...according to merc
!'what chris is into'
the kind of stuff chris is into…according to merc
!'how the boys fuck'
links and blurbs on the boys' style...according to merc
...more tbd
#©sturnsdarling#masterlist#matt sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#matt sturniolo fanfic
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Hi!!! I saw you did a poly!marauders with a plus!dive reader who’s insecure…
Can you write one where the reader is shying away from intimacy with the boys because they’re insecure and feeling ick about their body? Like not just sex but also physical touch like hugs or especially sitting on their laps? It can include smut too if you’d like!
I’m feeling pretty ick about my size rn and the fix really helped me! Thank u sm for your writing
Thanks sm for requesting lovely! I hope you start to feel better soon <33
cw: insecurity around size/weight, talk of traditional beauty standards
poly!marauders x plus size!reader ♡ 1.3k words
The funny thing is, the boys have been wearing away at your instincts for months. It’s no conscious effort for them, but for you it’s impossible not to notice. Before you got together, you’d been used to shying away from nearly every touch. You rarely hugged anyone, kissed only chastely, and shunned most physical intimacy. But though they’ve gone about it in a gentlemanly way, never putting pressure on you, your boyfriends have slowly changed that. Now hardly a day goes by without James having had his arm around your waist, Remus raking casual touches up your leg, or Sirius turning a kiss into a feely makeout.
Unfortunately, you still have your bad days. Earlier this week you’d looked too long into the mirror, and of course found a dozen things to hate about your body, and hadn’t wanted any of the boys to touch you since. When Sirius’ hand had smoothed over your lower back yesterday, skimming the rolls of fat at your sides, you’d almost thought you’d be sick before you could get away from him. You couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d feel there, what he’d think of you when he did. You’re not stupid; you know your boyfriends can see you, but touching is something different. What they probably want to feel isn’t what you have to offer, perfectly smooth skin and sloping, gentle curves. It sometimes feels like you’re keeping the secret of your true form from them, and if they discover it they’ll see you the same way you do.
“So, what’s the big secret?” Sirius asks as you come into the common room. All three boys are tangled up on the couch, and the other two turn to look when he calls out to you.
You give him a bemused sort of smile, perching on the armrest next to James. Careful not to put much of your weight on it. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t play coy.” Sirius narrows his eyes at you playfully. “I saw you whispering with Evans earlier, glancing at us all mischievously. What’re you two up to?”
You have to bite down on your smile. Sirius’ birthday is coming up, and you and Lily are in charge of his surprise party plans. James and Remus are involved too, of course, but it’s far easier for you and Lily to speak about it in your dorm at night, whereas your boyfriends hardly get any time apart to partake in secret plans.
“Oh,” you say breezily, “that was nothing. She was asking if we’re going to hogsmeade tomorrow. I told her we are.”
James smiles at you conspiratorially, bringing a hand to your thigh and rubbing up and down in silent support. You almost have a heart attack. You place your hand hastily atop his, intertwining your fingers as cover for your panicked response. James doesn’t seem unhappy with the change, resting his head against your arm as he strokes his thumb across the back of your hand.
“Should we make it a study session in hogsmeade?” Remus asks, neatly keeping the subject away from Sirius’ party. “We’ve all got that potions paper due Monday.”
“I’ve finished,” you admit, “but I’m still open to studying if you guys want to.”
Remus rewards you with a smile as Sirius rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Show-off,” he mutters.
“Shut up, Pads,” James says, always looking for any opportunity to take your side over Sirius’. He grabs your waist before you can stop him, tugging you off the armrest.
No sooner do you land on his lap than you’re springing to your feet. “James!” you cry, batting at his hands when they reach to pull you back. “You can’t just do that, I’ll crush you!”
Thick eyebrows fly up past the rims of James’ glasses and disappear behind his curls. “I’m sorry,” he says, in a tone that clearly means the opposite, “do you really think I’m so weak that I’ll crumble from you sitting on my lap?”
“It’s not—”
“Fucking hell,” Sirius cuts in, looking horrified, “if you think James can’t handle you, what do you think of Remus and I?”
“I’ll bench press you right now,” James insists, trying to push the other boys aside so he has room to lay down. “Come here, lovie, we’ll see who’s weak.”
The laugh that emerges from your throat borders on hysterical. “I wasn’t trying to say that anyone here was weak, okay? I just…” There’s no good way to phrase that last part, and you think for a moment to simply leave it there, but Remus leans forward, setting his elbows on his knees with an expression that clearly reads go on. “I know I’m not, like, a tiny delicate bird,” you laugh, aiming for flippancy.
No one laughs with you.
“But I don’t need any of you to respond to that,” you hurry to say. “I know it’s a weird subject, and there’s, like, no right way, really, to…to respond.” You trail off dumbly, wishing desperately that you’d never broached the subject in the first place.
After a moment of silence, you chance a glance up, but one look at Sirius’ visage, bordering on outraged, has your gaze defaulting back to your lap. “Sorry,” you say in a small voice. “Can we forget about it?”
“That’s alright, love.” Remus' voice is dulcet, so low you would never normally have heard him if the other two boys weren’t so uncharacteristically silent. “Listen, we don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to, but can I just say something?”
You look up to nod at him, finding his countenance equal parts troubled and patient. His mouth is pursed like he’s worried that if he’s not careful, the wrong words will come flying out. At your nod of assent, he speaks, clearly and firmly.
“I don’t want you to look like a bird.”
You almost laugh again, it’s such an absurd declaration, but Remus’ expression is serious. “You know what I mean, though,” you say, lifting a shoulder like this conversation is nothing to you. “I know what guys want. I’m not that.”
“Bullshit,” Sirius says, and Remus’ lips twitch upward at your boyfriend’s brash tongue. “You’re just gonna lump us in with all guys? Do all girls want the exact same thing too?” You go to protest, but he talks over you, fuming. “Golden boys, tall with blond hair, blue eyes, and an eight-pack of abs, right? Is that what you wish we looked like?”
“Of course not.” You’re tripping over yourself in your denial. “I wouldn’t—I don’t want you to look any other way.”
“But you can see his point, can’t you?” Remus asks gently. “If we each only liked what we’re told is most attractive, a face full of scars probably wouldn’t be on the top of that list.” You must look as devastated as you feel, because Remus’ lips pull up in a reassuring half-smile, the long scar across his cheek flashing silver with the movement. “Does that matter to you?”
Your voice is quiet; chastened, but ardent. “No. Not at all.”
“So perhaps you can imagine,” James says, raising his eyebrows at you teasingly, “how if you can look at us and find things to love, we can do the same with you.” You gnaw on your lip, and his brows come slowly back down.
“Don’t,” Sirius says sternly. “Stop thinking whatever you’re thinking. You’re gorgeous, and we like you like this.” His eyes bore into yours, insistent. “You can’t make our decisions for us about which parts of you we’re allowed to like, understand?”
James nods, extending his hands to you. “Would you come sit with me, angel? Only if you want to, of course,” he adds at your hesitance, “but please don’t refrain because you’re worried about anything to do with me.”
You give him an assessing look. “Alright,” you say, perching on his lap. “Just tell me if you want me to get off.”
“Will do, darling.” James grips the fat of your hips, hauling you onto him so that your feet leave the floor and your full weight is on him. “Not much danger of that, though.”
“Honestly,” Remus hums, pulling your legs across his lap so that you’re sitting sideways on James, “the day one of us says we want you to look more like a bird, run, sweetheart. Someone’s using polyjuice or something.”
#poly!marauders#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders x plus size!reader#plus size reader#plus size!reader#poly!marauders x fem!reader#poly!marauders x you#poly!marauders x self insert#poly!marauders x y/n#poly!marauders fanfiction#poly!marauders fanfic#poly!marauders fic#poly!marauders fluff#poly!marauders hurt/comfort#poly!marauders drabble#poly!marauders oneshot#poly!marauders imagine#poly!marauders scenario#james potter#james potter x reader#sirius black#sirius black x reader#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader#marauders#marauders era#the marauders#the marauders era#marauders fanfiction#marauders fanfic
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Chicks Dig Bad Boys
Rodrick Heffley x Reader
According to Y/n, Rodrick was just another emo boy, a loser, a typical teenage dirtbag. At least, this is what she heard from Heather Hills. Y/n was shocked Heather even chose to talk to her. Not just because Heather is the 'it girl' of Westmore High School.
Y/n had cracked the code to deal with high school, and that was to avoid joining any kind of group and not get noticed by anyone. Even if you somehow develop a crush on someone, keep it a secret. So she was surprised when Heather sat beside her and decided to talk to her. Y/n merely shrugged her shoulder and nodded at appropriate times as she spoke, tuning out the blonde girl.
Of course, you were aware of the crush the boy was harbouring for Heather especially when he made a show of ruining Heather's birthday. Y/n saw it all happen and thought how Rodrick actually had a nice voice and had potential. So when Rodrick happened to sit beside her in the English class she off-handedly complimented his voice.
Y/n had expected him to give her a smug smile or make an inappropriate joke. What she didn't expect was to find a very flushed Rodrick who was trying to find the correct words to say to her. She couldn't believe her eyes. She never saw Rodrick become so flustered.
"Uh..th..thank you...it...it means a lot." Rodrick wanted to slap himself for speaking like forgot how to speak. Yeah sure he got a few claps and hollers when his band played but no one complimented his voice.
"Was that the first time you sang?" now she was intrigued. Rodrick looked up and saw a genuine smile on her face. He took a breath of relief. He had thought she was making fun of him.
"Uh..yeah. I only sing when we perform in my garage. I wanted to do something special for Heather. But clearly, it went wrong." he said as he ran his hand through his hair. Y/n almost extended her hand to fix his unruly hair but dropped her hand when she saw him smile. She felt her heart flutter
Shit
Now she had something to say to Rodrick, but she forgot when she saw him smile like that. Boys like him were not supposed to smile like that. He was not supposed to have such a soft smile. Her trance broke when she saw him smirking.
"I saw you last night...not in a creepy way. I mean... obviously, during all that chaos at Heather's birthday, I saw you." there was that damned smile again. "I didn't know you were friends with her." His tone had a genuine wonder.
Y/n chuckled. "I helped her a few times with assignments..not really a friend, but we know each other, plus free food. Who can say no to that?"
Y/n felt her cheeks warming up under his gaze and tried to hide it under the curtain of her hair when she suddenly felt his fingers against her cheek as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. At that moment, she realised Rodrick actually saw her. She realised Rodrick was more than a teenage dirtbag that the world told her to stay away from.
She cleared her throat "I have heard your band play...when I come to tutor Greg."
Rodrick's hand grew sweaty. He knew how loud his band practice was, mainly to annoy Greg and his best friend Rowley. But he can't help but felt guilty as he realised how much of a nuisance it would have been for her.
"I am so sorry if our practice disturbed you guys"
"Oh no it's ok..I actually don't mind. I like that kind of music. Although it would be nice if the volume is a bit low."
"yeah...yeah absolutely...no big deal we can even practice a bit later."
Rodrick looked ahead trying his best to control a giddy smile. He did not expect his morning to be this good.
"Great...so I will see you in the evening..if you don't mind"
"yeah yeah totally" Rodrick quickly responded with a big smile. He was looking forward to meeting her this evening...after he locked Greg in the basement again.
A/N: Ladies and Gentlemen the boy who got me into bad boys. Rodrick Heffley. I couldn't stop myself from writing for him. I feel like a teen again. REBLOG AND COMMENT if you like this.
#rodrick heffley x reader#rodrick heffley x y/n#rodrick x y/n#rodrick x reader#rodrick heffley#rodrick rules#diary of a wimpy kid#diary of a wimpy kid rodrick rules#diary of a wimpy kid rodrick#rodrick imagines#devon bostick#devon bostick x reader#greg heffley#diary of a wimpy kid imagines#rodrick heffley fluff#rodrick fanfic#rodrick heffley fanfic#rodrick heffley imagine#turvi writes
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TWO TIMES THE FUN !
pairing: atsumu x fem!reader note: ITS MY BABIES BIRTHDAYS!!!!!! I didn’t know who I wanted to write about because I didn’t want to make two separate fics this year. I wanted this fic to be longer than what I usually go for. So of course, as much as I love samu I had to make it all about his brother!! Sorry for those hoping for some samu action </3 (ALSO NGL I feel like this fic was all over the place 😭) summary: it’s your boyfriend and his twin’s birthday ! can you, suna, and the others successfully plan out their party or will it be total chaos? content: fluff, relationships, atsumu being a little piece of shit as per usual, msby four cameos, kisses, a lot of teasing, swearing, children (tsumu’s twins from haikyuu men as fathers), just pure joy tbh. wc: 2.8k
“Alright guys, I’ll see you tonight. Atsumu, make sure to let the nanny know that the chicken is in the fridge and she can make whatever with it for dinner. Love you all!” Atsumu nods his head firmly, whilst the twins are behind him, attempting to push him out of the way to get one more hug in.
“Papa move out the way! We need to hug Mama.” Kensuke stresses to his father. The little boy is pushing with all his might to move his father’s legs, only to make no progress. Atsumu is a professional athlete after all, it would probably be questionable if his legs buckled, because a five year old was pushing them.
“Ya already gave yer Mama plenty of hugs ya rude lil sh- shrimp!” Atsumu immediately looks away at the doorframe with sudden interest, as to avoid a lecture from you.
While he’s somewhat distracted Kosuke crawls under his father’s legs to give you a hug. He’s always been the smarter one out of the twins.
“Bye Ko, take care of Papa and Kensuke for me, alright?” A sudden seriousness takes over Kosuke’s face.
“I will Mama.” While Atsumu is distracted bickering with his carbon copy, you sneak to your car in order to leave for ‘work’. For the past couple of days you’ve been going to Osamu’s shop straight after work to meet up with Suna, who was paying 10890 yen just to take the train there and back every evening.
‘For what purpose?’ one might one ask. Well, for the Miya twins surprise party, of course. Although, Atsumu had said he didn’t want to have a party for his 29th birthday, since it’s not an important one, you and Suna decided you’d throw one anyway. It’s quite important to you, his last year being in his 20s.
Everything has gone according to plan so far, the cake order is put in, the decorations are stored in the supply room of Onigiri Miya, and neither twin knows about the surprise.
Osamu is in Tokyo; helping out with his relatively new branch of Onigiri Miya. He set up shop there a year ago, but he still goes in to check on the shop every here and there. He’s going to be back Friday morning, so Suna said he would distract him and keep him away from the shop since that’s when you’ll be setting up decorations.
It would be ideal to put the decorations up earlier, but Onigiri Miya in Osaka is still open during the week thanks to Osamu’s most diligent employee, who runs the place while he’s gone.
Said employee has been giving you access to the shop, so you can set up the party, without Osamu’s knowledge.
According to Suna, Osamu hadn’t mentioned anything about their birthday. He didn’t even suggest something small. Who could blame him though? After all, he is a business owner with a new branch, of course he’s bound to forget things.
Everyday at work you’ve been doing your work for that day, plus some work for tomorrow, so you can leave earlier to touch up on party planning. There are only two more days until the party and you feel very confident about everything. As of now, everything is going to plan, causing your heart to race in excitement. A reoccurring buzz from your phone pulls you out of your thoughts.
It doesn’t even register that you should check the ID caller, before answering, “hey.”
“It’s Suna, you mind if I bring Komori with me today? He says he’d like to help.” For some reason Suna always sounds so bored over the phone, which makes it difficult to pick up his real tone. The only way you can tell how he feels is when looking at him.
“That’s perfect! Tell him we’d love to have him help. The more hands the better.” A hum reaches your ear in response.
“Okay I gotta go, I’m pulling into work. Shoot me a text when you guys arrive, so I can pick you up.”
“Will do, bye.” Suna hangs up before you can say goodbye back to him.
“Soooo, what can I help with?” The three of you walk into Onigiri Miya’s main location, with plastic bags in your arms. There’s a certain eagerness in Komori’s tone that makes you smile. It’s very refreshing considering how nonchalant and indifferent Suna can be.
“Well, I’ve ordered custom balloons and they need to be picked up soon. You can take my car as long as you have your license.”
“Gotcha! Just send me the address and the receipt for the balloons.” You’re almost surprised how quickly Komori is on board, because if you had asked Suna he probably would have looked up the distance, then decided that you’ll go get the balloons and he’ll stay here and decorate.
“Alright, thank you Komori for being helpful, unlike somebody.” Suna scoffs at your unsubtle hint to him being lazy.
“Whatever, I’ve been coming everyday after work, paying 20k for the train here and back, plus doing everything you tell me to-”
You quickly intercept before he can continue his rant, “Yeah after I have to beg you like twenty times and I’ve already asked you if I could pay for your train and you said no!”
“That’s because your stupid husband would come for my throat if I did.” An eye roll was sent your way by Suna.
“There’s no need to fight guys, we’re doing this for the twins right? So we gotta work together.” Komori steps in before the fight can really escalate. Something all parties have learned is that you and Suna work well together, until you start fighting. Which was exactly why you only dated him for a month in high school. (Yeah tsumu got with his friend’s ex. To be fair he liked you before Suna did. Plus there’s no hard feelings.)
“You’re right, here are my keys, Komori.” The male takes the keys from you and walks out of the door to retrieve the balloons.
“Alright, Rin. Let’s get to work.” He nods in agreement.
“Not your left, my left!” Once again, you’re raising your voice.
“Then you should have said that.” Even though you can’t see his face because you’re behind him, it’s obvious that he’s rolling his eyes at you. Suna moves the banner left a little bit,
“Okay stop that’s good!” He slumps down a little bit, most likely sore from raising his arms for so long.
“Well we’ve done all we can do for today since the shop still needs to open tomorrow.” Suna nods, hopping off of the chair he was standing on.
“How far away is Komori with the alcohol?” Komori brought back the balloons half an hour ago and you immediately sent him back out to get the drinks of choice.
“He should be back in a little while, your train will be arriving soon, right?”
“Yeah, but we’re not too far from the station, so we should be alright.” He shrugs.
“I’m here!” As if on cue Komori busts through the door with a few bottles of liquor. The professional athlete seems to be out of breath.
“Why are you so out of breath, dude? You literally just had to get out of the car and walk in here.” Komori just ignores Suna and brings the bottles the storage room were everything else for the party is.
“That’s all, right? I don’t think I have enough time to run another errand.” Worry settles on Komori’s face, he must be trying to figure out what to say if you did ask him to do something else.
“Yep that’s all, I’ll drive you guys back to the station. Will you be coming back tomorrow to help set up everything?” Hopefully he says yes, but you can’t be too sad if he doesn’t, he’s a grown man with a job afterall.
“Hell yeah I will be!”
“Hurry up!” You repeat once again, in fear you guys might be late to the party. Atsumu still doesn’t know you guys have thrown him a party. All he does know is that he’s going to have a birthday dinner at his brother’s place.
“Are the boys ready? M’coming babe. Why couldn’t we have gone to eat somewhere else? We always eat at ‘Samu’s” Atsumu grumbles quietly while buttoning up his dress shirt.
“I know, I know, but since dinner was such a last minute decision, I asked Osamu if we could just eat at the shop.” Little does your husband know you’re lying. He doesn’t ultimately seem to mind eating at his brother’s shop anyway. The two have been too busy living their adult lives to link up like they used to do every Friday evening.
Atsumu goes to respond but he’s cut off by small wails of terror, “Mama!!! Kensuke’s wearing my shirt.” Kosuke is usually the more composed of the two, but he does have his moments where he loses it.
“Nuh-uh butt-face! It’s my shirt!” Kensuke bursts in after him, almost knocking his brother to the floor with brute force.
“Hey what did I say about calling each other-”
“GIVE IT BACK YA PIECE OF CRAP!” Kosuke screams while trying to rip the shirt off of his twin.
Your eyes widen in terror at your son’s choice of words.
“Kosuke Miya!” The boy goes completely stiff when he hears the way you call his name.
“Where did you hear that?” There’s a fat chance it was from your husband or your brother in law or both, honestly.
“Uh… um. Well, I heard papa say that when he was fightin’ with Uncle ‘Samu, but he didn’t say crap.” Kosuke starts to nervously pick at his fingernails.
“He said the S word didn’t he?” Kosuke nods, so much for keeping a secret. Atsumu’s never saying anything vulgar in front of his children again.
“Atsumu Miya.” You turn your head to meet his gaze and he gives you sheepish smile.
“M’sorry babe. It won’t happen again. Could ya cut me some slack? It’s my birthday.” He pleads with those puppy dog eyes.
A loud sigh leaves your lips, “Fine but we are picking this up later.” Your husband nods in agreement.
“Okay now, why do you think your brother stole your shirt…”
A whole forty-five minutes later, the Miya family has finally made it into the car. You made sure to call Suna before you left, so he could make sure to bring Osamu to the shop. The brunette succeeded in keeping Osamu busy on Friday.
“Look at my boys, you’re all so handsome.” The twins and Atsumu gush at your compliment. Like father like sons, you guess.
Excitement buzzes throughout your body, causing you to smile ear to ear during the car ride there.
“What’s got ya so excited, my love?” Atsumu asks looking over at you from the passenger seat. Atsumu can drive, it’s just that he’s the worst driver in the world. So, if you’re riding with him you always vow to drive. He’s a passenger princess anyway.
“I’m overwhelmed with happiness that you’ve lived to see another birthday and that we get to celebrate you and your brother.” Atsumu smiles up until the last part of your sentence.
“Ya could’a left out the ‘your brother’ part.” Luckily for you when he said that, you’ve reached a red light, so you reach over to slap him lightly on the shoulder.
“Don’t even pretend like you don’t like ‘Samu. As much as I want to deny it he is your other half.” You put your focus back on the road as he speaks up,
“Yer my other half, baby. In a romantic sense, but I guess that scrub is my other half too.”
“So you, Mama, ‘n Uncle ‘Samu are like thirds, ‘n y’all share Mama?” Kensuke’s innocent question causes Atsumu’s face to scrunch up in disgust. There’s no way in hell he’d share you with his brother.
“Hel- heck nah. Think of it as two circles ‘n Papa is one half of both circles. The other halves are yer Mama and Uncle ‘Samu.” Kensuke’s confusion tenfolds at the analogy his father gave him.
“Um… okay.” The backseat is quiet for the rest of the ride, which you can only be thankful for.
“Is ‘Samu even in there? The blinds are closed.” Atsumu is holding Kensuke and Kosuke’s small hands. The four of you walk up to the door,
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure he’s here.” The blinds are closed, because Atsumu’s parents, former high school teammates, and current teammates are inside waiting for the birthday boys.
“Ya lyin’ on my name?” A voice comes from behind you. Atsumu’s head whips around to see his brother standing behind him with Suna.
Kosuke is the first to break from his father’s grip.
“Uncle ‘Samu! Happy birthday!” Osamu squats down to hold his arms out for the young boy to hug him.
Kensuke follows in pursuit, “I wanted to hug Uncle ‘Samu first-uh!” He tries to pull his brother away from Osamu and ends up scratching him on the face.
Before the boys can once again start up another tantrum Osamu steps in, “Now now, guys, there’s enough of me to go around. Don’t want yer pops to get jealous, do ya?”
Atsumu turns his head away ignoring his brother’s statement.
“Let’s go inside, jeez, if yer serving dinner; why the heck aren’t ya in yer shop?” Your husband is practically fuming at his sons’ reactions to their Uncle.
“I wasn’t even gonna serve ya, stupid. My employee called saying that they left the shop unlocked by accident, so I was coming here to close it. Suna decided to follow along.”
It takes them a few seconds but they connect the dots, first turning to Suna and then to you.
You don’t allow them to get a word in though because you push open the glass door and scream out, “Surprise guys!!”
Along with all the others inside of the building.
“Babe… I thought we weren’t doing anything big?” Atsumu straightens himself up, as if he hadn’t embarrassed himself in front of everyone that is inside of the shop before.
“Atsumu, honey are ya really gonna complain when yer wife did all of this for you and yer brother?” His mother luckily swoops in to save you. She gives you a quick wink that practically says ‘I’ve got you honey.’
“I ain’t complaining…”
“I still can’t believe I came to such a dumb event.” Sakusa grumbles beside you. He’s always been like that, you’ve realized. The only thing that has changed is that he doesn’t really mean any of the remarks he says.
He’ll never admit but he doesn’t really hate your husband.
“Oh yeah? And why’s that?” Something you’d also learned about Sakusa is that his alcohol tolerance is kind of low. Every thing that Sakusa is saying, is just the liquor talking.
“I could go on for days, really. He’s obnoxious, loud mouthed, vulgar, gross-”
“Omi! Ya know my wife is desensitized to all yer bad mouthin’. She’s seen it all.” Atsumu’s cheeks and ears are a soft pink.
“You, do not need any more drinks tonight.” You take Atsumu’s glass of whatever the hell he’s drinking. Behind where you and Sakusa are standing is the cooler, you waste no time grabbing a juice box and shoving it into your husband’s hands.
“I’m still surprised she hasn’t gone runnin’ for the hills yet. Ya drove me off the wall fer eighteen years of my life ‘n now, poor [name] has doomed herself to a life sentence with ya.” Osamu joins in on the Atsumu slander club.
“She agreed to marry me you stupid idiot!” Osamu chuckles at that, knocking back another shot.
“Yeah! [name]-chan love, love, loves, ‘Tsumu!!! To the moon and back- no like to the universe and back!!” Bokuto interrupts out of nowhere.
Hinata springs into the conversation too. Since you had been planning this party for awhile, the ginger flew all the way from Brazil to come to Atsumu’s 29th birthday party. To say Atsumu was surprised was an understatement. Your husband isn’t big on physical contact. He liked high fives, and really nothing more than that, but when he saw Hinata, he enveloped him in a bone crushing hug.
“Yeah! She’s not doomed!!” Hinata joins in.
“See, these guys get me!” You shake your head, trying not to laugh at your husband’s childish-ness. With all the attention on him and such a light atmosphere, he’s practically glowing. In the end, everything you’ve done was worth seeing your husband happy on his special day.
“Happy birthday, Tsumu.”
“Thank you, baby.” The blond squeezes you in a tight embrace and presses a soft kiss to your cheek. Sure everyone teases you for marrying such a wild man, but you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else besides his warm arms.
©𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐊𝐄𝐘𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈 All works are written by me! Please do not copy, translate, or upload onto other sites without my permission, thanks!
#haikyuu#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader#atsumu miya#atsumu x reader#atsumu miya x reader#miya atsumu#miya atsumu x reader#osamu#miya osamu#osamu miya#haikyuu fluff#atsumu fluff#atsumu haikyuu#haikyuu atsumu#osamu fluff#osamu miya fluff#hq fluff
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Toy Horses Outside the Brothel
You always knew Tommy as the cheerful boy who took care of you. He always knew you as the smart girl that he visited by the docks. The daughter of a prostitute, the son of a deadbeat father; a soldier who protected his country; a whore who protected him; a gangster who controlled Brimingham; and now, a wife. War changes people, you just didn't realize that war could change you both. (angst, depictions of abuse, poverty, prostitution, canon-typical themes, death, war, time jumps)
A/N: This is dedicated to @runnning-outof-time ! Thank you for giving me guidelines and for reading my work before anybody else did. You’re amazing and I wish I could write Tommy as good as you do.
Want to be tagged? navigation | main master lists | PROTECTION MASTERLIST
BIRMINGHAM, 1900:
Tommy first met her when his father took him to the docks. Arthur Shelby Sr. told impressionable young Tommy that there were kids he could play with by the docks. Tommy agreed, wanting to impress his father. On the way there, right outside of what looked like a house with many rooms, was her.
You were lonely and something in Tommy told him to play with you instead. Besides, the boys were too big around the docks. Arthur Shelby left him right outside the establishment and threw a shilling to you. You picked it up, stuffed it in your pocket, and looked at him.
He smiled at you widely, a tooth missing from his mouth and extended his hand towards you.
“I’m Tommy,” he said. You reciprocate the gesture, telling him your name and shaking his hand. You were more reserved, Tommy noticed. He was so used to the ruckus in their house that he expected every child to be as energetic as them. “Why did my father give you money?”
“He wants me to play with you while he’s inside,” you said. “I don’t have many toys but…I do have this,” you said, showing him your wooden horse toy. They were your prized possession, one of the few gifts that your father sent when he promised the world to your mother.
“Oh! I love horses,” he said. “Do you? I like watching horses,”
“Yes,” you replied. “My mother said that my father owned many. I’ve never met him though. Where do you watch horses?”
“That’s alright. Fathers hit kids. See?” he said, showing you a bruise on his side quickly. “My mother puts ice on it and it tickles. We watch it in the races. My mum takes me for my birthdays. She usednto ride a white horse before. She told me. Do you go to school?”
“No,” you shook your head. “But my mum taught me how to read and how to write. Sometimes, Big Johnny teaches me arithmetic. One plus one equals two,”
“You’re smart. Who’s Big Johnny?”
You hummed, making the wooden horse gallop on the murky ground. People in the house all told you that you were. If only poor Mary Magdalene had the means to send you to school. If only. You stop your movements and move your toy towards Tommy.
“Here,” you said. “Big Johnny is the man who runs this place. He’s kind,”
“You won’t have a toy,” he replied.
“It’s okay. I have more but they’re in my mama’s room. My father sent them. Sorry if it’s dirty,”
“Thanks,” he said. It’s the first time anyone has ever given him something without asking for it. He keeps it with him; keeps the memory of a girl who watched him intently while he played with a toy horse. That’s why when his father exited the house, with less money in his pocket, Tommy asked if he could come again next time.
-
When the house closed, you ran to your mother’s room. You usually had to stay out until five in the morning, sleeping on the sacks right in front of the brothel until your mother woke you up. She’s been seeing less men these days…always cooped up in her room, asking for you. She didn’t mind if you stained her bed with sweat and grease. She’d ask how your day was and you told him about Tommy, the boy you met earlier.
“I’m glad you have a friend,” she coughed into her white handkerchief. The blood stain was normal now. You were worried at first, but your mother told you to never tell anyone. You just never knew how serious it all was when you slipped once. You were talking to Big Johnny; he was teaching you how to subtract.
“If I help you, are you going to pay me?” you asked, perched on his lap. He had been the only father figure in your life. He’d help your mum surprise you for your birthdays and give you some money every now and then.
“Pay you? You’re robbing me,” he kids. “What do you need the money for?”
“I’m planning to buy mum a present. A nice handkerchief,” you said. “The one she has has blood—“
“What is it, bug?” he asked, eyebrows furrowing.
“Nothing,” you shrugged, smiling sickly sweet.
“You have to tell me,” he replied. “It’s your—your safety,”
It was your turn to look confused.
“But mum told me to never tell anyone,” you whispered, heart racing. What did he mean by it? “Why would I not be safe? I’m safe. I have mum with me,”
Big Johnny ran his hand through his hair, then his chin. You knew that it was a sign of his agitation, so you relented.
“You can’t tell anyone,” you whispered. “But mum has been coughing up blood for a while. She said it’s fine. You won’t take her from me right, Johnny?”
“Fuck, kid,” he sighed, stressed at the sudden turn out of events. “No more arithmetic today, okay? I’ll go talk to your mum. Just go outside or play or whatever,”
“Is everything okay?” you asked, panic rising in your throat. It constricts while you keep yourself from crying. “Mum will be so mad at me! Please don’t tell on me,”
“Do you know why she’s coughing up blood?” he asked, his voice serious. He knew that you had to be talked to in his “adult voice” for you to listen. You knew that he needed to be stern for you to listen.
“N-no…” your hair falls messily as you shake your head, picking on your nail beds.
“She’s sick, bug,” he said. “If we don’t do anything about it, you could get sick too. The two of you might die,” he explained. “Look, kid…you have a bright future ahead of you, alright?”
“What will you do?” you asked. “You can’t take her from me! Please, Johnny. My mum is all I have,” you cried, tears started flowing once the first one dropped.
Johnny couldn’t do anything else. He relented but locked your mother in her room. Whenever you went in, he made sure you had some face mask on to protect yourself. You only saw her for a few minutes every day. Parting her was painful and Johnny had to console you while you cried. He gave up his bunk and slept in his workspace so you won’t have to sleep with your mum.
A week later, your mum died of lung cancer.
It was too late, the doctor explained. Johnny let you stay in his bunk, never mind the fact that he had no space for himself now. He didn’t mind. You were his top priority. How is he going to raise a child in a brothel?
-
Your mother always told you that as long as you were with her, you would never be lonely. There was no burial, just her body being thrown and burned with the rest of Birmingham’s garbage. It made you wonder what your body would be like dead. You decided to never end up like her, one way or another you were getting out.
Tommy continued to visit you, but he knew that you were different now. It has only been a week and you’ve grown up so fast. When he arrived, a box of your toy horses was prepared for him.
“What’s this for?” he asked, eyes brightening up at the sight of the box. His father threw a shilling your way again.
“It’s for you. I don’t want to play anymore,” you said. “I kept one white horse for me but you can have them.”
“Why not?” he asked, galloping the toy you gave him last week. “Thank you. I don’t have my own. I always have to share with Arthur, John and Ada.”
“My mom died…you were my first friend and you never met her,” you said, tears falling on the ground. “I’ve been living in Big Johnny’s room,”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” he said. “My Aunt Pol says that friends are there for each other. I’m…I’m your friend,”
You smiled a teary smile, appreciating the underlying message behind his words. He’ll be there for you. But until when?
-
BIRMINGHAM, 1905
Fifteen, you were fifteen. You haven’t even turned fifteen for a week and you were working. The owner of the house told Big Johnny that if you wanted to keep living there, you would have to work too. Johnny had no place for himself, no house—his money all went to you. Your clothes, the books you’ve read, the food you ate. He'll get you a cake with a candle along with a pound for special occasions. If you were lucky, some of the girls would give you something. Tommy’s dad stopped coming and so was the shilling you got.
He stayed, though. He’d talk to you about school and how he wanted to leave.
“You’re lucky you’re in school,” you said, watching Tommy smoke a cigarette. You were never a fan if them, seeing as your mother died of fucking lung cancer. “You have to stay,”
“I’m not built for it though. They’re all so boring,” he said, blowing the smoke away. “If only I could work like you. Why are you dressed so nicely anyway?”
“The owner told me to work,” you shrugged, pulling the strap of your dress back on your shoulder. “Johnny asked the boss if I could help him with the girls and management, but he said no. Wanted me to work because it will bring more money in,” you bitterly replied. “I want to go to school but the fucking boss wanted me to present myself as a Cherry Girl. You wanna know what that is?”
“What?”
“A fucking virgin.” you shrugged. “Said many men will pay for someone like me. Today’s my first night and Johnny cried a little bit when he saw me. I’d kill and die to go to school, Tom.”
“Shit, love, I’m sorry. I was being insensitive,” he offered. “Hm, maybe you’ll bag one rich man you know? Some rich bloke from London and he’ll take you. Besides, at least you smell nice,”
“This shit is awful,” you countered, sighing. You blinked back the tears that threatened to spill. “Fuck, I said I wasn’t going to cry tonight.”
“Hey,” he said, sitting closer to you. He wraps your arm around you and lets you stay there. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ll stay in school and do well, okay? I’ll study so hard; I’ll take you out of here. Let you live in a mansion with lots of space to run in. Fuck, I’m sorry, love,”
“It’s not your fault, Tommy,” was your weak reply. “I’m just…I told myself that I would never be like my mother and now, I am,”
“You’re not her,” he whispered, tightening his arms around you.m, never mind if the grease and sweat of his clothes mixed with your perfume. “You’re not her.”
-
BIRMINGHAM, 1906
“Fuck, Tom. You can’t stay here while I’m working,” you scolded. You were lying, you appreciated the fact that Tommy was here. He’ll wait until you finish your shift, until you meet your quota. It was always quick, though. You had a rich patron that covered your every living expense.
“My patron’s coming,” you told him, and he tenses. He remembered the way you cried to him after your first ever shift last year. How some old fuck didn’t even bother. He finished and threw you some coins. He remembered his rage when you told him about this new guy. He’s quite scary but he pays the most, you said. “He doesn’t like seeing me with other men,”
“I’m a man now?” he quips, a smirk on his lips. “It’s not like I can afford it. I’m broke. Besides, I’ll act like a bodyguard, yeah? All I ask for payment is a day out with you. Aunt Poll is cooking something on Sunday. Want you to eat something that’s not whatever is being cooked here. We can go on a picnic. I met a girl who worked at this mansion, and they have lots of flowers in the garden. Shit you’ll like,”
You offered him a slight smile, nodding.
“Will your aunt be okay with…me eating your food?” you asked. Tommy took notice of how insecurity laced your voice. His suggestions of meeting his family have always been met with resistance. He understood. Although Polly has been insisting on meeting the girl he’s been spending his time with, he couldn’t risk his father recognising you and then, treating you like trash.
“Of course. She’s been more annoying. Told my mum about the girl I’m seeing,” he said. “I’ll be the first boy to take you out, hm?”
“Shut up,” was your only reply.
Sunday comes and you asked your boss for a day off.
That day, Tommy took you to the garden with Polly’s chicken stew and his mum’s fig cake. Tommy didn’t let you work, he set down the food and opened the containers.
“The best meal you’ll ever have,” he said while you sat. “I should’ve done this earlier. What have you been eating?”
“I’m lucky enough to be fed. Johnny gets me some food out of the brothel sometimes.” you said. “Thanks for taking me here. I love it.”
“I knew it,” he said, spooning out your portion and giving it to you.
“I want to have a house with lots of flowers. Different coloured blooms all year round.” you said.
“The caretaker of the garden says that we can pick some flowers. Do you want to take some home?” he asked. You nodded, a flush on your face. How could someone not love him?
BIRMINGHAM, 1908
“How have you been my angel?” he asked, twirling your hair in between your fingers. “Can’t believe I missed you last week,” he mumbles, kissing your shoulder. You giggled. “I was in London and all I could think of was you,”
“I’ve never been to London,” you told him. “Are you going to take me there?” you asked, wide-eyed. He’s been your patron since you reached 18. He was quite younger than your usual customers. He always came to visit when you were seventeen but never looked at you. As if that made it better.
“You haven’t?” he asked. “I’ll take you there, Angel. I’ll show you the whole world. Hm?”
“You will?” you asked, faux excitement in your voice. He loved this; you knew. He loved that you were a fragile little bird in need of saving. He loved that you’d listen to him talk about his father. He’s the sappy kind. He liked to hold hands, talk, and make love. He’s paid you more than anyone else and gave you a hefty allowance. Big Johnny didn’t have to think about your safety anymore. “I want to go to the city! Buy everything that I see and just…breathe a different air,” you said.
“Fuck, baby, I’ll take you there and buy you everything you ever lay your eyes on. I’m not fucking around. I’ll take you there,”
“You will?” you asked. “I don’t like the idea of you leaving me. Did you know that? Sometimes, when you leave, I have to lock myself in my room and refuse everyone,” you lied. You locked yourself in because your quota was already met. You were just saying these things to keep him coming back. A little bit of pretending never hurt you. It meant a bigger tip, more money.
“Yeah?” he asked.
“Of course,” you said. “You’re my hero…”
Somehow, you didn’t find yourself lying when you told him. You felt dirty, you felt like your mother when she thought your father would give her the world. But Simon paid big money to have you alone for multiple nights a week. No other customers were to ask for services.
“I’m your hero, alright…you’re my little bird. I’m dead set on taking you with me to London. Once I get my inheritance, I’ll show you the world and get you out of these slums.”
-
BIRMINGHAM, 1909
“You don’t have to do this anymore,” Tommy said. You were well enough to have your own place somewhere near the docks now. Johnny had given you some furniture that the house wasn’t using anymore, helping you fix the tables and the chairs that you would be using. You didn’t have to live at the brothel anymore and it was all thanks to Simon.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Tommy,” you chuckled. “Do you like my place?” Tommy looked around, flowerpots littered your house.
“I’m serious.” he asked. “I’ll have you safe in Small Heath,”
“And my job? What will pay for this place? I finally have enough space for my flowers.” you asked. “I can’t just leave. Come on, you have to see the view on my balcony.”
You dragged Tommy’s hand to the balcony to show him the view. You were a little far from the docks now but from your balcony you can see it. The blue water, the usual chaos…you were smiling so freely, so beautifully. Tommy stills, unspoken words lingering in the air. You could realise it too…you’ve been realising it slowly. The world was in your hands. You could seize it if you wanted it. It fills Tommy with determination. It pumps through his veins, and it rings in his ears. Determination, consistency, and power. Three things to play with the world…three things that he’ll have. He could get you a bigger house. If he played right, he could have it all.
“This is why I got this place,” you said. “I mean, there were others but the view of the docks…I used to think everything about it was so ugly, you know? So grey, so evil…so grotesque but from the vantage point, everything is different,” a soft smile played on your lips when you let go of Tommy’s hand. He already missed your touch. “I can’t leave my job now because I wouldn’t have this,”
“I’ll work for it,” he says proudly.
“Tom, I know you’re not happy with how I earn money. Fuck, I’m not happy too. I hate that job. I know you hate it when I turn down your offer. But I have nothing else. You have to support your siblings. Don’t you get it? We’re all whores, Tom. We just sell different parts of ourselves. Mine just so happens to be my body.”
It enrages him and you could see it. See his face fall apart, how his jaw ticked.
“I’ll do it.” he said. “I’ll fucking do it. You think I’m fucking around when I tell you that I’ll protect you? I will. I’ll make a name for myself and protect you. I’ll fucking protect you; I swear on my life.”
“I know you will, Tom,” you said, inching closer. “But can’t you just be happy for me? This once?”
“We could add a little chair right here,” he relented. How could he ever tell you how much he hated himself for not being enough right now? “I’ll bring some of Polly’s flowers. You’d let me stay here?”
“Only if you’re being nice,”
“What if I’m too tired to make the trip back to Small Heath? Can I stay here?” he asked.
“Sure,” you shrugged. “But only if you have food for me or something,”
“Or something? You’re not letting me stay for free? I’m your best mate,” he chuckled. “I mooch off you all the time,”
“You have more than I do. It’s time for me to mooch off on you,”
“Yeah? Well, I want yours,” he said. “I’m glad though…that you don’t have to live there anymore. You’re safer here,”
“Thank you, Tom,” you smiled, sitting by the railing of your balcony. “I’m glad too.”
“I’ll make sure you’re protected,” he promises.
“How?”
“I’ll protect you.”
-
BIRMINGHAM, 1910
Tommy gave you the number of his telephone years ago. You were shaking, something bad had happened and you didn’t know who else to turn to. Big Johnny was too busy breaking up fights in the bar beside the brothel. You walked home shakily. Tommy called the brothel earlier to tell you that he couldn’t make it tonight because of some gang business. It was fine, of course. So, you went to the market to buy some supplies. You just didn’t know that he would be there.
You were waiting for someone to pick up the phone, biting your perfectly manicured nails.
“Who’s calling?” a woman asked from the other line. Her tone was snippy, and you knew she meant business.
“Hi,” you cleared your throat. “I’m looking for Tommy Shelby?”
“Who is this?” she asked, confused as to why a woman would suddenly call Tommy in such a manner. She was used to Tommy’s girls calling, an embarrassment usually hinted when they spoke. But this new girl had no shame.
“I’m a friend of Tommy’s,”
“Tommy has many girlfriends. You’re going to have to be specific,” she said, intrigued.
“Oh, of course,” you said. You told her your name. “Is he there?”
“Tommy!” you could hear her voice call. “Some girl is on the phone for you!”
“What, Poll?” he asked, scowling.
“Pick up the phone, Tom. Your friend is asking for you,” she said, passing the phone to him. She didn’t leave the room immediately, sitting on the nearby chair instead to listen in.
“Tommy Shelby,” he says, and you breathed a sigh of relief.
“Tommy,” you whispered. “He was there…he was there.”
“Who, love?” Tommy asked. Polly noticed how his voice softened, how his stance relaxed. “Do you need me there?”
“He was one of my customers before,” you forced out. “He was always…rude and rough,” you choked. “I hate this fucking job, Tommy. I fucking hate it and he treated me like an object today just because he paid for my services years ago,” you sobbed. “I’m sorry. I know you were busy but I fucking hate it,”
“Shh…it’s okay, love. It’s okay. I’m going over there, and you could tell me,” he said. “Will that be alright?”
“I—yes,” you nodded, wiping your tears hastily. “I got some of your favourite fruit from the market today. Didn’t know you have an expensive taste,”
He chuckled softly.
“I’ll see you, alright?” he asked. “Keep the doors locked. I have my copy,”
“Okay, Tommy. Stay safe for me?” you asked.
“Of course.” Tommy put down the phone until he heard you end the line. He sighed and went to go get his coat until he saw Polly with an eyebrow raised. “Fuck, I didn’t see you there,”
“Who would? You were too lovestruck to notice anything,” she teased. “That’s the girl you’ve been seeing?”
“We’re friends, Pol,” he clarified.
“She’s the girl from the docks, then?” she asked. Tommy nodded. “Fuck, that’s rough. She’s a whore,”
“Don’t,” he said, an edge to his voice. “Don’t call her that. I’m trying to build something for all of us, Pol. For her. She hates her job…she fucking hates it and I can’t do anything about it,”
“You don’t have to save her, Tom. You can’t save everyone,” she said but she knew that Tommy was stubborn. Everything that she’ll say will fall on deaf ears.
“It’s all her,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’ll get her out of there if it’s the last thing I do.”
The walk to your place was unnerving. Thoughts swarmed in his head. If he only had it in him to murder the man who dared to look at you. He’s never made peace with how you earned your money, but he still happily showed up after every shift. You never talk about your customers, and he didn’t like to ask.
“Tommy, you’re here,” you greeted. He could see how swollen your eyes were; how red they were.
“Of course, I am,” he replied. “Are you okay?” He hangs his coat on the coat rack and walks towards the couch where you were seated.
“I am now,” you sniffed. “I’m sorry for making you worry but this job…people reduce me to such an object. I didn’t even know his name, you know?”
“I know, love.” he said, his heart beating inside his chest. What was it? What was the beating?
“Tommy, I’m going to make a request. It’s absurd and we haven’t done it yet…”
“What?” he whispered, unsure.
“Can-can you hold me?” you asked. “You don’t have to but…I have no semblance of what it’s like to be loved anymore. I want to pretend. At least for tonight, somebody out there loves me.”
“You don’t have to pretend,” he said. “You’re my friend. Of course, I love you.”
You only smiled, snuggling closer to Tommy. You were his friend…only a friend. How else would he look at you differently? You still had to pretend because the love that he was willing to give was not the love that you were looking for.
-
BIRMINGHAM, 1911
Multiple knocks on your door woke you up. Someone was screaming your name outside and you felt yourself panic. You took the gun that Tommy gifted you last year and crept down the stairs. You opened the door slowly to reveal two men—one older and one younger. The younger one had a smirk playing on his lips while the other looked panicked.
“Who are you?” you asked, tightening the gun behind your back.
“Arthur Shelby,” the one with the beard replied. You nodded. “I’m Tommy’s older brother. This is John,”
“Where…where’s Tommy?”
“He asked us to come get you,” John replied. “We mean no harm.”
“What happened to him?” you asked. “Come in,”
The brothers entered your house and watched you lay your gun on the table. An unspoken threat.
“Tommy’s not in a good place,” Arthur replied. “Well, he’s asking for you. He’s having these…episodes. I don’t fucking know what thr fuck they’re called but sometimes, he calls for you when he shuts down,”
“It's even worse today,” John added. “Our mother died,”
“Oh, shit. I’m sorry,” you said, offering a small smile. “Will you let me dress better? I’ll come with you,”
You met the brothers outside of your house, your gun secured on your skirt.
“Are you Tommy’s whore?” John asked as you walked.
“John!”
“I’m not his fucking whore,”
“So, why is he always at the brothel by the docks?” he pressed.
“We met when we were kids. Your dad used to visit the brothel with him,” you shrugged. “I never understood why your father took him there all the time. It’s a dangerous place,”
“Why were you there?”
“My mother worked there. I was born there. I grew up there,” you shrugged. “Tommy was my only friend growing up. Your father stopped coming but Tommy still managed to show up,”
“I see,” Arthur replied. “You’re the girl who gave him toy horses when we were kids, then. He never let us touch them. Even now, he has them lined up on his wall,”
“Yeah, I was. I gave it to him a week after my mother died,” you recalled.
“I’m sorry for calling you his whore,” John said. He realised now that your relationship with Tommy was deeper. It was more meaningful than he realised.
“It’s okay,” you let out a small smile. “It’s a fair assumption,”
Minutes of silence passed by, and your group stopped in Watery Lane. You’ve never been in his house before; you never had the time to do so. You were also quite ashamed to show yourself. How could you prove that you weren’t after Tommy’s money if that's exactly what you are after men?
The door of the house opens, and you assume it was Polly. The same woman who you talked to on the telephone before.
“He’s in his room upstairs. Last door to the left,” she said.
“Thank you,” you rushed to where Tommy was. You didn’t bother to stay and eavesdrop. You were there for Tommy. You knocked on his door slightly.
“Stay the fuck away from my door or I will kill you,” he shouted. You cracked the door open slightly.
“It’s me, Tom,” you said. He rose from his bed and rushed towards you, flinging his arms around you. He pulled you closer. “Hi,”
“She’s dead,” he murmurs against your hair. “My mum’s dead. My dad left. I didn’t even like him, you know? He always hit the three of us. I thought it would be better if he just fucking left but my mum died because he left. Now, I don’t have her.”
“I’m so sorry, Tommy,” you said. You knew he was still struggling after his father left many months ago. He was shaking in your arms, trying to grasp you tightly. Trying to be closer. “I’m so sorry,”
“I…I don’t know what to do,” he said. “You never got to meet her. She’d love you; you know?”
“That makes us even,” you saw a small smile on his lips. “I’m here now, Tom. You could rest,”
“You’ll still be here when I wake up?” he asked meekly, like a child.
“I’ll be here,” you nod, caressing his cheek softly. He nods, yawning after he evened out his breathing.
“Shit, love. I’m so tired,” he yawned again. “Let’s both go to sleep. We deserve it. I’ll see you when I’m awake?” he asked, adjusting your position on his small bed.
“I’ll see you,” you confirmed, snuggling closer to him.
-
“Tommy’s playing a dangerous game,” Polly commented from downstairs. It has been met with no resistance.
-
BIRMINGHAM, 1914
“Good afternoon, Pol,” you smiled. You were invited for Sunday dinner, and you decided to bring cake from the bakery that Tommy liked. You’ve only met them last year, but you’ve become such an integral part of their family that people knew you were closely associated with them. Even Simon.
“Oh, you didn’t have to bring cake,” she said. “We’d rather you spend it somewhere,”
“It’s alright,” you said. “I wanted to do something nice,”
“Keeping Tommy levelheaded is nice enough. Seriously, what did you do?” Ada asked, chopping the vegetables. She was reluctant at first but now, she couldn’t go a week without ranting to you. Girls’ night is what she called them.
“I don’t know,” you chuckled. “May I help?”
“If you could kindly chop the carrots, please,” Polly said. You set yourself and rolled your sleeves, peeling the carrots first. “Tommy and the boys went out for a while. They said it was some business with the Blinders. While they’re out, how are you?”
“Oh,” you nodded. “Me?”
“Of course. Ada has been talking my ear off about some guy she’s so secretive about,” she scoffed.
“I’ve been working less,” you confessed. “I’m helping out on the counter. Helping Big Johnny with the money and the accounts. I work a few times a week now. Simon’s been frequenting the brothel and well, you know what Simon does. It helps that he doesn’t stay long. The brothel pays me for my assistance. I can buy you cake every week now,”
“Don’t do that. Finn will be spoiled rotten,” Ada says. “Besides, you deserve nice things for yourself, you know,”
“I know but I can’t help it,” you said with a soft smile. “I like doing nice things for you,”
The boys soon come through the door, spilling with laughter. Tommy makes a beeline towards you as soon as he spots you.
“How was the afternoon?” you asked, bumping your hips with him.
“It was good,” he said. “Finn got into a fight with some kids, and we had to deal with it.”
“Is Finn okay? I brought cake.”
“Just a bruised ego,” he chuckled. My favourite?”
“Of course,” you said. “But let’s pretend that it’s for Finn, alright?”
“It’s always for Finn,” he groans. “He has you wrapped around his finger,”
“He does. He’s such a charming kid,” you praised. “Where is he, anyway?”
“Taking a bath before dinner. You have me for now,” Tommy said. “Can I sleep at your house later?” he asks in a softer tone. He’s been sleeping at your place ever since last year. He said you make him sleep better.
“You know it’s never a problem,” you said. His presence made you feel safe. He made you feel secure. “Will we leave together?”
“Yes. I’d like to sleep as soon as possible,” he says, dropping his forhead on your shoulder. You only chuckled. “I’m so tired. So, so tired,”
“Who are they fooling?” Ada asked in whispers. “Are we sure they’re best mates?”
“They’ve insisted on it for years,” Arthur shrugged. “I don’t think they’re aware,”
“I don’t think so either,” John says. “But Tommy throws a fit whenever she has to meet that Simon prick. Calls him a rich bastard.”
“He is a rich bastard,” Ada nodded. “She says he just came into his inheritance. Ammunitions,”
“Shit. She hit the jackpot, then,” John commented. “Wonder how that’s gonna go?”
“There’s nothing to wonder, John,” Arthur says. John could only nod his head.
-
You stumbled inside your house around half past midnight. You were both quite tipsy, having drank Pol’s stocks of wine. The Shelby Company Ltd. has been gaining more popularity now, along with the Blinders. Hell, Tommy even posted two Blinders to guard you. “For when I’m not around,” he said.
“Pol’s going to kill me for giving Finn too much cake,” you giggled, leaning on him.
“I reckon you’re banned from Sunday dinners,” Tommy jokes, taking his shoes off. He takes note of how you’re dressed today. “You know you can remove all the fucking things on your body right? Rouge…the jewels. Where’d you get them? Is the rich bastard buttering you up?”
“I like it. Dressing up makes me happy,” you frowned. “I’m allowed to like nice things, right?”
“Right,” his jaw ticked. It should be him who's giving you these gifts…showing you a lavish life. He hated it. “Later?”
“Later,” you nodded. “When I’m banned from Sunday dinners, you wouldn’t let me be left out, right?”
“‘Course not,” he shrugged, pulling you to your bedroom like he owned the place. You didn’t mind. You were happy to see that he was comfortable in your home. “You’re my best girl.”
“That’s what you say to your horses,”
“You’ve got really good horse sense and you’re always on your high horse,” he says, peeling his coat away. He was rummaging in your chest now, looking for clothes he might have left until he settled on a simple white shirt and pyjama pants.
“Yeah, yeah. You and your horse wordplay.” You entered the bathroom to dress down. Just like Tommy, you settled in his shirt and pants. They were more comfortable than singlets and you certainly didn’t want to make Tommy uncomfortable.
He was already waiting for you on the bed when you came back. He pats the space beside him. You obliged. You were looking into each other’s eyes with small smiles, Tommy’s finger trailing down your arm absentmindedly.
“I…” words died in his throat before he could get them out. “I…”
“What is it, Tom? Are you okay?”
“I’ll get you out of here,” he rasps. “I’ll get you out of there and I won’t let you work a day in your life anymore.”
“Tommy,” you sighed. “I can’t—can’t leave this job. It’s all I have,” He tightens his arms around you, afraid that you’ll ask him to let go.
“I know but once I come back from the war—“
“The war?” you asked, removing his arms around you. “War?”
“We enlisted,” he clarifies, trying to gauge your reaction. “Once I come back, I’ll be so fucking rich. I’ll have you. I’ll keep you and you won’t have to lift a finger. We’ll live in a mansion and have servants. Just like what we used to talk about,”
“Tommy, you’re going to war?” you asked, standing from the bed. His eyes watched you settle down shakily on the single chair by the bed. “Fuck. You’re going to war. You’re going to leave me,”
“No, love. Come on, I—“ he grunts, sitting up from his relaxed position.
“It’s war, Tommy! They change people…I don’t want to lose you; do you not get that? Are you not happy here? Is that why you're throwing your life away?”
“I’m not throwing my life away,” he says, a frown. “We’ll be drafted one way or another because we’re poor. Might as well do it now than be forced. Some of my men will still watch over you every now and then. They’ll still make sure that you’re safe. We’ll send letters. Alright?”
“Letters,” you scoffed. “And what if the letters stopped coming?”
“Don’t say that, please,” he begs. “I’m doing this for all of us. The business will be handled by Polly and when I’m back, I’ll make it even bigger. Alright? You have to trust me,” You didn’t even want to ask about the business. You didn’t want to ask why more men wore peaky caps. You didn’t want to ask what the Shelby Company Ltd. really was. Not now.
“I know you will, Tom,” you said. “But I’m scared. For the first time since I’ve known you, you won’t be here. I’m scared,”
Tommy lays his hand on your shoulder. Words he couldn’t say lingered in the air. I’ll marry you once I step foot in England. He didn’t know what else to say; didn’t know if there was still something to say. So, he kneels before you and makes you look at him. You were crying. So afraid, so alone.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“When will you be leaving?”
“I have two more days,” he says. “Will I still see you?”
“Yes, of course,” you said. “You’ll come back for me?”
“Of course. I have a picture of you already in my pocket. I have to make sure to come back to you,” he said. “and everyone else, of course.”
He fishes a necklace from his pocket, his mother’s locket.
“Here,” he said, showing it to you. It was one of the last pieces of jewellery she owned. “Mum gave it to me. You know I’ve always worn it. I want you to wear it now. Think of it as a loan, yeah? You’ll give it back once we see each other again,”
“Tommy, I—“
“I want you to accept it. I want you to see you wear it now. I want to see you wear it before I leave. But most of all I want for us to stay the same,” he says, holding you and kissing your hair softly. You couldn’t push him away. You’ve longed for this your whole life. To be held, to feel loved. It’s all you’ve ever wanted.
“I’m sorry. So, so, so fucking sorry.”
“I don’t think you’re wasting your life away,” you cleared your throat. “I’m so—I’m so proud of you and your bravery. I’m so proud of you but I can’t be fucking happy for you. I don’t want to wake up every day knowing that you’re not here. I don’t want to have to guess if you were alive or not.”
“I am,” he promises. “I’ll be alive. I’ll come back as your Tommy. Just…wait for me, alright?”
You clung onto Tommy two days later by the train. He whispered that he would come back. He said that he will make sure of it. He breathes in the smell of your hair—roses. He envelopes you in his arms once more and turns to leave, never looking back. You knew, in your hysterics, that if he comes back from the war, the same old Tommy you used to know would never be.
PART 2 PART 3
TAGLIST: @shelbydelrey @runnning-outof-time @duckybird101 @thenattitude @swordofawriter @litteltourtius @trixie23 @everythingelseisextra
#tommy shelby x reader#thomas shellby x reader#tommy shelby#peaky blinders x reader#peaky blinders#hurt/comfort#tommy shelby angst#thomas shelby angst#cillian murphy
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a new birthday tradition | jack hughes
warnings: extreme domination, spanking, spit kink, cockwarming, hair pulling, overstimulation, dirty talk, praise, degradation (a bit), established!relationship pairing: jack hughes x fem!reader summary: fem!reader proposes a new birthday tradition to jack (based on the request: "jack hughes spanking and spit kink pls") wc: 2787
“Birthday boy,” you sing-song, tracing Jack’s nose.
Your touch rouses Jack from his nap. He was sleeping on the couch, waiting for you to come home from work, having fallen asleep from boredom. It’s normal for Jack to fall asleep in the middle of the day, so this little touch has become part of your everyday routine.
“Hi, babydoll,” you greet when Jack blinks his way awake.
He finds you in his eyeline and sighs, the corners of his lips turning up. “Hi,” he says, voice thick with drowsiness.
“You know what I was thinking about today?” You ask, smoothing back Jack’s hair. He nuzzles his face into your palm, dropping a kiss onto your skin.
“What?”
“There’s a birthday tradition that I thought you might like.” You wiggle your eyebrows. “I was thinking we’d put a little twist on it.”
Jack cocks his head to the side. “What is it?” He asks, voice wary. He immediately thinks of the first time Quinn told him that his birthday cake smelled like something but he couldn’t figure out what, and Jack leaned down to take a sniff, and Quinn shoved his head into the frosting. He’d rather eat a birthday cake than shove his face into it.
You drop your head so you’re whispering in his ear. “Birthday spankings.”
Jack pulls away from you, looking affronted. “You’re not spanking me.”
You roll your eyes. “Duh, dummy,” you drawl. “When have I ever been the one to spank you? Obviously, you get to spank me. One for every year you’ve been alive, plus one for luck.”
“Oh,” Jack replies. “Yeah, that could be fun.”
You roll your eyes for a second time. “Could you be less enthusiastic about it? You love my ass. You love spanking me. ‘Yeah, that could be fun?’”
Jack shrugs. “I prefer to spank you when you’re being a brat. This is, like, a gift.”
You blanch. You stare at him. Jack stares back. You blink at him slowly and set your jaw, your mouth straightening into an annoyed line. Wordlessly, you rise from the couch and pull your blouse over your head, drawing Jack’s eyes to your lacy red bra and the swell of your breasts. His hands twitch in his lap and he raises one to set it on your hip, to pull you back down to him, but you step out of reach.
“Where’s your sling?” You ask, toeing off your shoes and kicking them away.
“In the bedroom where I left it,” Jack says, snarky. He hates the sling. The angle causes his arm to fall asleep and he hates the numbness. It’s not like he’s moving his shoulder or hurting it any more– he’s going to rehab and PT, working with the best trainers in the NHL. He doesn’t want to wear his dreaded sling on his birthday.
You take off to the bedroom, returning shortly after with Jack’s sling. You hold it out to him with an expectant look on your face.
Jack groans, but puts it on nonetheless. He glares at you once his arm is properly situated in his sling, his arm already prickling with discomfort. “You know I only have to wear this thing for like two more weeks,” he points out begrudgingly. “And the doctors said I don’t have to wear it all the time.”
You unbutton your pants and lower them, again drawing Jack’s eyes to the matching red thong you wore today, planning for him to see you like this. “That doesn’t mean you can take it off whenever you want,” you tell him. “We decided that you’d wear it when you weren’t doing anything. You’re sitting on the couch. You’re not doing anything.”
“I was napping.”
“‘I was napping,’” you repeat, mocking him. “What if you had laid on your arm wrong and set yourself back a few weeks?”
Jack’s nostrils flare at your words. “I didn’t.”
“Yeah, but you could have rolled over in your sleep. I don’t want you to have to miss out on pre-season stuff because you were reckless with your shoulder, Jack.”
“I don’t want that either, Y/N. But I’m also not a child, I know when I’m pushing myself too much. You’re being overbearing.”
“I’m trying to take care of you.”
“You’re acting like I’m helpless. I’m not fucking helpless just because I had surgery.”
You rejoin Jack on the couch and his eyes find your cleavage again, but he tears his gaze away from your breasts in order to continue this argument.
“You’re the one who pouts about your shoulder whenever I’m around to try and get attention from me. You can’t have your cake and eat it, too,” you argue.
With each one of your statements, you play Jack like a fiddle. He said it was easier to spank you when you were acting like a brat, so act like a brat you will.
“Yeah, but you know when I’m just trying to get attention. You play into it every time, don’t act like you don’t enjoy it.”
“You’re so fucking stubborn.”
Jack glares at you. “You only say that because you’re losing this argument.”
You lean forward, “accidentally” pushing your breasts together for Jack to see. He gulps, eyes flickering down then back up to your face. He tries to steel his face, but doesn’t do a great job.
“I’m not losing this argument,” you scoff. “You know I’m right. You’re just being difficult because you hate the sling. If I called your doctors right now, they’d tell us that you need to wear the sling more often.”
You move forward again, this time crawling over Jack’s lap until you’re sprawled over him completely, ass up for him to see.
Jack’s free hand palms one of your cheeks, resting on the skin. His thumb barely touches the lace of your thong where the fabric disappears.
You throw a glance over your shoulder and offer Jack a dazzling, smug smile. “Was that bratty enough for you?”
It dawns on Jack that you’ve goaded him into this, his hand itching to teach you a lesson still, even though it was a fake argument. He grins, letting out a little laugh. His head drops with the laugh and he pats your ass, frustratingly gentle.
“You got me, huh?” He asks.
“You’re so easy,” You reply, giggling.
Jack slaps your ass for that, barely a spank.
“That's one,” you tease. “Twenty two more.”
Jack closes his eyes and tries to bite back a smile. He tilts his head back, resting it on the back of the sofa. “Plus one for luck,” he adds. “Don’t forget that one.”
“Oh, how could I forget,” you say. You raise your hips and wiggle them invitingly, drawing Jack’s eyes. “You should punish me for it.”
Jack brings his hand down on your ass again, harder this time. “So annoying.”
“That’s two.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Jack laughs, bringing his hand down again.
You don’t– you continue to count and moan and each time you make noise, Jack spanks you again. His hand moves more harshly with each drop. Your skin slowly grows more and more red, starting to match your red underwear. It grows sore, but Jack doesn’t stop spanking you until he reaches the 24th. You’re a moaning mess, whining and squirming in Jack’s lap, eyes wet with unshed tears by the time Jack blows cool air over your skin. All of your wiggling over his lap caused him to grow hard while administering his birthday spankings, and he knows that if he brought his fingers down to your cunt, he’d find that you’re soaking through your panties.
Jack pulls you up but the straps of your bra, the elastic snapping back against your skin when he lets go. You arch your back and whimper, climbing onto Jack’s lap to straddle him.
Jack smiles, wiping the wetness from your eyes with his thumb. “How do you feel, pretty girl?” He asks, bringing his thumb down to toy with your bottom lip. He moves it and, like a puppeteer, mimics your voice to speak for you. “So good, you always give me exactly what I need, I love you soooo much, Jacky.”
You laugh wetly, pushing his hand away. “You’re such a loser.”
Jack furrows his brow, humming in a disapproving way. “Now that’s just mean. Maybe I should spank you some more.”
You pout, glaring at Jack. “Yeah, and make me bleed? I don't think so.”
“How about this,” Jack muses. “Wanna give me another present?”
You nod, fingers tracing his clavicle.
“Get on your knees.”
Jack helps you down, kneeling prettily between his legs. You sit back on your heels and look up at your boyfriend, waiting for his next move.
“Go ahead and take me out, honey,” Jack encourages, lifting his hips so you can work his shorts and underwear down his legs. His cock springs up and bounces back, pretty and weeping from his arousal. You go to take him in your mouth, but Jack stops you. “No, no. Warm me. I'm gonna watch a little TV and if you’re good, I’ll fuck your throat.”
You melt, feeling yourself grow so warm and wet that you might honestly drip onto the floor if you get any more turned on. You go to take Jack’s cock in your mouth, but he stops you again, tilting your head up to meet his eyes. You look into his gaze for a moment before his eyes drop to your mouth. You open your mouth, waiting for Jack to feed you his cock instead of taking it yourself.
Instead, he drops a line of spit onto your tongue and closes your mouth. You swallow, eyes wide and blinking up at him. It’s humiliating and so good, making your head a little foggy and your knees spread a little wider.
Jack’s eyes find your knees against the floor, your wet cunt. He purses his lips, smiling with his tongue against his front teeth, looking devilish. He knocks a pillow to the floor with his slinged arm, eyes hooded and daring.
“Pick that up,” he tells you.
You move like a machine, grabbing the pillow and ready to put it back up on the couch, to cushion his injured arm. Jack uses said arm to block you.
“Why don’t you put that between your legs,” Jack suggests, voice bored. When your eyes go wide and you freeze, staring up at him, Jack smirks. His voice drops, low and seductive. “I see how wet you are, baby. I’m giving you something to grind against while you warm me. It might not be my cock, but it’ll be good enough, right?”
You could come on the spot, feeling lost. With aborted movements, you place the pillow between your knees and press down on it, eyes fluttering at the friction.
“Good girl,” Jack praises. He fists his cock and taps the head of it against your lips. “Open up, baby. Let me take that dirty mouth.”
He thrusts his cock into your mouth, waiting until your throat adjusts around him to grab the remote and flick on the TV.
You stare up at him, breathing through your nose. You rest your head on his thigh, the downy hair of his legs tickling your skin. You crinkle your nose, but keep your mouth fastened around Jack’s cock. Jack smiles down at you before turning his attention to the TV, placing a hand on your head and running his fingers through your hair absentmindedly.
He knows what happens when he tangles his hands in your hair, especially when his cock is in your mouth. It drives you to start moving your hips against the pillow, eyes fluttering when the seam of the pillow catches against your clit. You’re trying to keep your head still around his cock, but it’s hard to do when you’re chasing your own release.
Jack’s fingers tighten around your hair, tugging at the roots. You moan around him, the vibrations traveling up his cock.
“You can’t even last five minutes before you move, huh, baby?” Jack asks. He puts on a mask of disappointment, spurring you on when you open your eyes and plead with him.
Your hips move faster, the pillow good but not quite enough to satisfy you. You whine, blinking up at Jack. Still trying not to move your mouth, you flex your tongue against him.
Jack licks his lips, eyes trailing up and down your body. He’s taking you in, the way your cheeks are flushed and your hands are grasping the pillow beneath you, the way your hips are dragging in tilted bursts, trying to maintain the pleasure of your clit hitting the item between your legs. Jack bites his lip as he looks at the wet stain that you’ve left on the pillow.
He gathers your hair into a ponytail, twisting the locks in his hand and pulling. You let out a cry of pleasure, losing track of your volume, too overcome with pleasure. Jack’s pull tips you toward orgasm, your hole flexing around nothing and feeling neglected and empty.
“Jack,” you moan, his name garbled around his cock.
The uninterested look in Jack’s eyes contrasts the slight smile on his lips as he pushes his hips forward into your mouth, then pulls back. He starts to fuck you slowly, but quickly loses his control when you bring one of your hands up to his thigh, fingernails digging into his skin.
His lip curls with a hiss, his pace increasing. You’re a mess, completely desperate beneath him. Your eyes are shining with tears as Jack uses your throat, his thrusts harsh and completely self-indulgent. You gag around him, your throat constricting, and Jack growls. He pushes your head down, your nose brushing against his pelvis and he releases into your mouth with a groan. His come paints your throat with white spurts and Jack uses his grip on your hair to pull you off of him.
A line of spit connects your mouth to his tip and Jack watches your eyes grow heavy, sated, when you swallow his come.
“Gonna come for me?” Jack asks.
Your eyes find his and you nod.
Jack tilts your head up and you open your mouth, showing him that you swallowed every drop that he awarded you. Jack spits a thick wad onto your tongue again, the weight of it heavy on your muscle although, in reality, his saliva would weigh next to nothing.
The heat in his eyes and the taste of him in your throat pushes you to your peak, your hips erratic against the pillow. Your legs are shaking, trembling as you tip over the edge and release over the object between your legs. You’re boneless, quivering between Jack’s legs. He pulls you up onto his lap and coos at you, snaking a hand between your legs to rub over your clit with a teasing finger.
“Think you can give me another?”
“Jack,” You whimper out, shying away from his insistent fingers, but they just follow you and press into you wherever you go.
Jack moves yout thong to the side, burying his middle and ring finger into your pussy and flexing his fingers until you’re squealing from the contact. He pushes his thumb into your clit and you grind down, wincing from the overstimulation but unable to stop chasing the pleasure.
“Look at my baby,” Jack marvels. “So pretty, so perfect. So slutty, huh, baby? You beg me to spank you, you fuck against a pillow until you come, and now you’re taking my fingers. So greedy. I’ve spoiled you.” He curls his fingers inside of you, relishing at the whimper that he steals from your lips with each of his movements.
You come again, the heat of it washing over you. You’re helpless to it, feeling like the orgasm is just rushing through you. You shudder on Jack’s lap, your wetness dripping down his skin and onto the fabric of the couch below you. Jack draws his fingers out slowly, not to overstimulate you even further, and kisses you softly.
“Happy birthday to me, huh?” Jack asks against your lips.
You nod, voice soft. You can barely move, so comfortable on his lap, feeling his skin against yours. “Happy birthday, darling,” You agree, and kiss him again.
“Is this going to become a real birthday tradition?” Jack wiggles his eyebrows, a smug look on his face. “Me spanking you?”
You hum, considering it. “Maybe not when we’re seventy-five and wrinkly.”
“This ass?” Jack reaches behind you and squeezes. “This ass isn’t ever getting wrinkly, not on my watch.”
“Okay, Jacky,” you snort with laughter. “Whatever you say.”
notes: *in a marilyn monroe voice* happy birthday... mr. president <3
this was meant to be a blurb. a short one. for jack's birthday. it did not STAY a blurb. that's my bad. i have a tendency to go overboard. hoping y'all enjoyed!
#puck-luck's fics#jack hughes#jack hughes smut#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes x y/n#jack hughes x you#jack hughes fanfiction#nhl smut#nhl x reader#nhl x y/n#nhl fanfiction#nhl fic#jh86#andy writes anything🍄
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I started this post with the intention of asking for fic recs where Bruce gets his kids early, but then I ended up just writing some ficlets
_(:3 」∠)_
I still really just want recs I swear but I wrote these anyway and am incapable of doing more with them so here
☆彡
Dick Grayson is 8 years old when he watches his parents die. Bruce is 24 years old when he sees a young boy’s life fall to pieces. He’s far too young to be a single father. But he sees too much of himself in the child, and he knows in his heart that he won’t be able to walk away from him.
He talks to Alfred about his fears of only furthering Dick’s trauma by failing him as a guardian. It takes some time, but Alfred is able to convince Bruce to find a therapist and take some discreet parenting classes. He’s still Batman, and I don’t think he’s capable of Gentle Parenting™ but he does do better. Plus, Dick is young enough to learn to read Bruce before the teenage hormones kick in so they manage to communicate much more effectively with each other.
☆彡
Bruce meets Catherine Todd by chance because there was a cool park Dick wanted to stop at. She’s trying to deal with her hungry and fussy 3 year old step son, but she’s young and stressed out and hungry herself and she just doesn’t know what to do. Bruce offers to take them out for lunch. He asks Dick to take Jason to the play area in the corner while they talk.
She breaks down and tells him of her struggles with addiction. She does her best to keep Jason fed, but it’s so hard. Feeding him means she goes hungry most of the time because she can’t quit using. Jason wouldn’t survive if she had to go through withdrawals with him.
He’s not even her kid! Not really. Her husband is just an abusive deadbeat so she doesn’t have a choice. She does love him, but she never wanted kids, and she can’t just let a child die when she can do something.
Bruce fills their fridge and cabinets to the brim (he offers to do much more for them but that’s all she will budge on. She has too much pride to accept outright charity, but she will do what she can to keep her kid safe) and he makes it clear to her that he is willing to take care of Jason for however long is necessary when she decides to take the first step to get clean.
Two months later, Willis gets arrested and Catherine shows up at Wayne Manor and tells Bruce she signed up for inpatient, but she thinks it would be best for Jason and for herself if Bruce would be willing to take permanent custody. She stays in Jason’s life, just not as a mother figure.
☆彡
A year or so later, Bruce gifts Alfred with a vacation as an early birthday present. Things have been hectic with the sudden acquisition of two sons, and Alfred has done so much, he deserves a break. Bruce promises he’ll be able to handle two kids on his own.
Turns out, he was mostly right, but only just barely. The kids are fine, the manor not so much. He ends up hiring a few services to help out with general housekeeping. A couple of those workers also happen to be regular hires for the Drakes.
Bruce overhears them talking about how sad it is that those awful people treat their toddler more like a doll than a child. He learns that not only do they leave for long periods at a time while not hiring a proper nanny to watch over their son, just expecting the help to take care of him, but they also lock him away on his own whenever it’s ’not fashionable’ to have a 2 year old around.
Alfred comes back to the manor on August 15th, just in time to celebrate his and Master Jason’s birthdays together. He opens the door and dodged around a very excited 4 year old jumping up and down in the entry hall.
“ALFIE! ALFIE! BOOSE GOT ME A BABY BWOTHER FOR MY BIRFDAY! LOOK! LOOK! HIMS NAME IS TIMMY AND HE’S THE BESTEST!”
Alfred leans over to peak behind the boy, and sees a very quiet, very small child standing behind him.
“Oh, dear.”
☆彡
The day Bruce got the call from Talia telling him she was pregnant with his child was one of the best days of Bruce’s life. The day she called to tell him she miscarried was one of the worst.
The only blessing was that he didn’t need to explain it to his kids. Talia was going to move in once she was in her second trimester, and they planned to reveal her pregnancy together.
He got the call two weeks before her flight out. He begged her to come anyway, he loved her, they could still be a family. She refused.
Six and a half months later, he walks into his bedroom to find Talia standing by the window with a squirming bundle in her arms. With equal measures steel and sorrow in her eyes she tells Bruce she is sorry for what she put him through, but it was the only way to keep their son safe. He gathers them both in his arms and holds them tight as she explains.
Her father had planned to raise an heir to be the Demon Head. He would be kept a secret from Batman until the very end. But when Talia gave the final push to birth their son, he came out quiet. She panicked for a moment until her midwife quietly leaned down to listen to the baby’s breathing and then looked up with a soft smile, she bundled up the small thing and handed Talia her baby. Big beautiful green eyes blinked up at her. The midwife leaned closer to Talia and whispered, “Sadly, your son was stillborn. I’m deeply sorry for your loss, but surely The Great Head of the Demon would be willing to allow you some time away from your duties while you recover.” Talia allowed the woman to cover her beautiful cooing baby gently with soft linen and silk and carry him from the room. Later that night she left her home with her son and boarded the first flight to Gotham.
Tears gather on Bruce’s lashes and he tells her everything will be alright because now they can finally be together as a family. Once more, she refuses. She tells him Damian and his boys are far too precious for her to bring the danger of the league of assassins to their door. Bruce closes his eyes in sorrow, but nods his acceptance. He asks her to at least stay the night together. They fall asleep wrapped in each other’s arms with their baby boy safely bundled between them. Talia is gone when he wakes.
☆彡
It’s been one week since Talia left and, while still beyond upset, Bruce feels like he’s starting to have a decent handle on things. He is sitting with his boys at the breakfast table, Dick and Jason to his left, Tim to his right, Damian in his arms, and Alfred across from him. They’re finally able to have a relaxing breakfast. No babies crying, no food fights, no arguing, just the sounds of eating and gentle chatter.
He feels a small hand grab his right sleeve and give a gentle tug.
“Boo?” Tim asks, quietly. Bruce feels his heart warm at his son finally feeling like he can speak up without permission.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Why isn’t Big Sister sitting with us?”
Alfred is the only person in the room other than Tim to not startle at the sudden appearance of a 5 year old girl standing next to Bruce at the dining table. He simply sighs, stands up, and grabs another place setting for her at the table.
#to this day nobody knows how Cass got there#but Tim says she came with baby so they assume she hitched a ride with Talia somehow#notice how I /very discreetly/ made it so Jason knows Catherine isn’t his birth mom?#Bruce communicates with him when he’s older that if he ever wants to find his bio mom he will help him and they can do it together ❤️#No dead robins for me🧍🏼♂️#Sorry Duke but it’s because I love you that I’m allowing you to stay with your parents 🫶#IM SORRY DICK I WROTE YOUR PART BEFORE I HAD ANY REAL CREATIVITY AND NOW ITS ALL DRIED UP#I LOVE U BB BUT UR STUCK WITH TWO SUCKY PARAGRAPHS ✌️#also? I don’t even ship Brutalia. like I’m almost a hater. but they took me over here ig#if I was writing more of this just know that Clark would show up with Jon at some point#batfam#dcu#fanfiction#ficlet#batman#brutalia#bruce wayne#dick grayson#jason todd#tim drake#damian wayne#cassandra cain#alfred pennyworth#shut up grandpa#dcu ficlet
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HE LIKES MY AMERICAN SMILE ━━ OP81.
love is a wild ride, and logan sargeant's sister is about to find this out the hard way.
( oscar piastri x sargeant!reader )
━━ part three.
“Are you sure this is gonna work?” You look down at the post. The photos, carefully taken a few nights ago while getting ready for a dinner gala you’d been brought along to as Sophia’s plus one, are pretty. She and you had scrolled and sorted and scrolled and sorted some more trying to pick the perfect ones, and then you’d written and rewritten the caption more times than you could count before finally settling on something vague but faintly implicit.
You study it for a moment longer, then look back up to your friend.
She smirks. “Trust me. It'll work. I got an ex-boyfriend to come crawling back begging for another chance by making him think I was already moving on.”
“It just seems… mean,” you murmur, frowning. You want Oscar to like you— you want it a lot— but you're not sure if this is the way you want to go about it. “Isn’t this just manipulating him?”
Sophia sighs and falls back onto the bed beside you. She gives you a look, gestures down to your phone, and then curls around your shoulder so she can peer down at the screen. “It’s not a soft launch. There’s no guy. The caption doesn’t mention anyone. If he gets the impression that you’re with someone else, then that’s on him.”
You trust her, of course, but this is Oscar. You’ve known him for years. He’s your brother’s best friend, and for the longest time, he was the closest thing you had to a best friend too. As twins, anything Logan did you tended to do with him— soccer, swimming, biking. You even had shared birthday parties growing up. Karting was the first real thing he’d done on his own, but even then you’d always been close by, and that meant you’d always been close by to Oscar too.
Like she can sense your continued hesitation, Sophia speaks up again. “If you post that, and he doesn’t react, then that’s that. You don’t have to do it again.”
“I just— I don’t know.” You worry your lip between your teeth. “I just don’t think it’s the type of thing that he’d go for. He’s, you know, polite like that, I guess? If he thought I was taken, or moving on, or something, then he’d respect that and wouldn’t bother me.”
The silence hangs in the room. She’s still leaning against you, one hand rubbing your shoulder comfortingly and the other hugging you into her. When you stand, she lets you go easily, watching as you begin to pace the length of your bedroom, phone clenched tightly in your hands.
When you finally come to a halt in the corner farthest from the bed, you turn and meet her gaze shyly, “What if he stops ‘maybe’ having feelings for me because he thinks I'm taken? Or, what if he thinks I’m not interested and so he doesn’t ever bring it up?”
“Then you take one for the team and you tell him,” she shrugs. “Woman up and admit that the entire time you were out in that fancy dress of yours with those roses, you’d wished it was him who had gotten them for you and you’d wanted it to be him you were getting dressed up for.”
You look back down to your phone.
You’ve never done this before— boys, at least. The chase. Europe hadn’t been a very easy place to live— not with a schedule that made keeping friends virtually impossible, let alone a boyfriend. When you moved back to the United States, you were focused more on your career, prioritizing yourself over anything else.
You’d been single for so long that you hadn’t been in any hurry to change things, but now the lack of experience is making you nervous. Apart from movies and books and the borderline horror stories Sophia has told you about her own disastrous love life, you don’t know the first thing about dating.
“Y/N, is this about Oscar or something else?”
You look up, still biting at your lip. “What if we break up and I’ve ruined a friendship?”
Sophia raises an eyebrow, “Is he the kind of guy that would throw away a friendship because things didn’t work out?”
“I don’t know! That’s the problem! I wanna say no, that he’d be totally fine and we would be able to pretend like nothing happened and go back to how we were before it all, but I can’t,” you cross the room and lower yourself onto the bed again. “Context matters too. What if it’s a really messy breakup and we can never look at each other the same? What if he does something so unforgivable that it ruins his friendship with my brother? Logan worked hard to make friends and this first season was rough for him. He’s the only American driver on the grid, and they weren’t exactly welcoming. But Oscar was there for him and I would never forgive myself if I did something to ruin that.”
“What could Oscar do that would be so unforgivable it would ruin a friendship?”
You fall back onto the mattress. “I don’t know that either! Realistically he wouldn’t do anything because that’s just who he is— he’s like the nicest most genuinely sweet guy I’ve ever met. But I’m not a fortune teller! I can’t look into the future and know that he won’t get tired of me and go find some other girl, or, I don’t know.”
You can feel tears burning at the back of your eyes and wipe at them harshly.
Sophia notices and lays down beside you, pulling you into her side again. She runs her fingers through your hair and lets you compose yourself a bit more before she speaks up again. When she does, it’s— “You’re so afraid of the worst-case scenario that you aren’t even letting yourself take the chance. Sometimes you just gotta leap before you look and believe that you’ll land on solid ground.”
“I hate when you get philosophical on me,” you murmur, a soft laugh slipping past your lips.
She sits back up and rolls her eyes, but there’s a gentle smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Puh-lease. As if you’d ever get anything done without my wizened words of advice.”
You sniffle and wipe the last remnants of tears from your eyes, then sit up with her and look back down at your phone. The unfinished post still stares back up at you.
“What if I just—” you delete the caption for the umpteenth time and let your fingers dance across the screen, “—say this instead?”
Sophia leans over your shoulder, reads the new caption, pauses, and purses her lips. She reads it again, hums, and then breaks out into a grin. An incredulous laugh slips out and she turns to you with shining eyes. “You’re a damn genius! I knew you were worried over nothing. You just gotta stop getting into your head so much.”
INSTAGRAM.
liked by logansargeant, landonorris, and 12,827 others
yourusername honey, i’m still free. take a chance on me.
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user WHAT???
user IS THIS A SOFT LAUNCH???
↳ user she’s literally saying she’s still free?? why would she say that if this is a soft launch?? 😭😭
logansargeant should’ve taken me with you 😒
↳ yourusername logie we both know you hate black tie events
user girl idk how you can do it i’d be spilling out of that dress with one wrong turn
user THE ROSES?? THE BABY’S BREATH?? I’M SO NORMAL ABOUT THIS
landonorris slay girl queen boss
↳ yourusername lando… what…
↳ landonorris i’m in my supportive era 😌💅 you should try it sometime
user i NEED to know where that dress is from omg
user oh to be a young rich and beautiful socialite
user not to be delulu but there’s a surprising lack of op81 in these comments 👀
INSTAGRAM.
liked by landonorris, mclaren, and 429,868 others
oscarpiastri it’s summer somewhere right?
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landonorris hm this caption seems familiar 🤨 i wonder what it could be referencing 🤔
user GOOD LUCK IN 2024 OSCAR 🧡🧡🧡
user wishing this were me rn
user i’m too delulu for this rn 😭
↳ user i’m waiting for y/n to show up in these comments
↳ user did they have a fight or smth??? they haven’t commented on each other’s last few posts
user gosh that’s the dream rn
When you answer the unknown number, on your way back to your room with a tub of ice cream and a plan to eat away your disappointment at the failure of Sophia’s plan, the last thing you expect is to hear Lando Norris of all people on the other end. There’s no greeting, no introduction, just an immediate— “Yeah, so, I’m gonna need you to fill me in on the sitch.”
For a brief moment, all you can do is stand there in the hallway with your phone pressed to your ear, wondering if this is real. You’ve had maybe a few brief conversations with Lando throughout your various visits to the paddock across the season, and though he was very nice and polite, and all of your interactions were friendly, you wouldn’t exactly call yourself friends. Certainly not “swap numbers and call one another” type of friends, either. Your most recent socializing has been strictly confined to the comment sections of Instagram posts.
“Hello? Y/N?”
You clear your throat, “Sorry. What?”
“The sitch? Situation? That’s an American slang word, I thought you knew that.” He says it so matter-of-factly. As if that’s the only thing you could be even remotely confused about in this whole interaction.
“No,” you answer, shaking your head as if it’ll somehow straighten out the spinning of your mind. “I know what the word means, Lando. I’m just wondering why you of all people are calling me right now? How’d you even get my number?”
You can hear music and voices on the other end of the line, muffled and distant, and then a door opens and closes and the extra noise is gone. Lando takes a deep breath and sighs, “If you must know, I got it from Alex, who got it from Lily, who got it from you. So, you know, transitive property means technically I got it from you, too.”
“I’m gonna choose to ignore how wrong all of that is,” you mutter, pinching the bridge of your nose as you continue down the hall and eventually slip into your room, shutting the door quietly behind you.
You do recall giving your number to Lily, and the two of you have shared a few messages since the end of the season— mostly typical check-ins and catching up with the happenings of your individual lives. Occasionally she sends you recipes she thinks you’d like, and you do the same. You knew she’d given it to Alex because she’d asked you first if that was okay, and all Alex had sent was a brief well-wishes when Williams had confirmed Logan’s re-signing, accompanied by a short message that Lily was looking forward to seeing you in the paddock again.
Ignoring all of that, however, you focus on the matter at hand. “Why are you calling? Isn’t it crazy late in Monaco right now?”
He hums. “I’m the slightest bit tipsy, but I cannot take it anymore. If I see one more caption with underlying subtext like this is a forbidden romance in a period drama I am going to, quite frankly, lose my mind. I need you to explain to me what in the fuck is going on between you and Oscar.”
You pause, and then you groan. “Oh my God.”
“Yes, ‘oh my God’ indeed. Now please explain.”
You heave a sigh, because you know he isn’t going to drop this, but you also know that if anyone could help you more than Sophia, it’s probably Lando. He’s Oscar’s teammate, and at the very least, if you can’t talk to Logan, you can talk to the only other person who probably knows him just as well.
“It’s a long story,” you mumble, curling up in your bed.
He makes a sound, like a scoff. “Okay? I have plenty of time.”
So you start from the beginning. Between spoonfuls of chocolate ice cream, you detail how it all started because of a message of condolence, how that had led to a rendezvous for drinks, and how that had led even further to him kissing you in the car as he’d dropped you off at your hotel.
He’s silent up until you mention that Oscar hadn’t acknowledged the kiss at all afterward, and then he makes an affronted noise and mutters something under his breath about stupid guys and heads in asses.
You admit that part of it was your own fault, that you hadn’t attempted to communicate either because you’d been afraid of the reaction and potentially the rejection, but that you’d been kicking yourself ever since for missing out on being able to talk face to face about things when you’d had the chance.
It all culminates in you explaining your current situation, and you tell him about your talk with Sophia and then your friend’s self-proclaimed mastermind plan, which had failed spectacularly when Oscar hadn’t even seen the post.
When you’re finished, there’s a moment of silence before he bursts into laughter.
You flush red in embarrassment and hug the tub of ice cream closer to your chest, feeling miserable and ashamed, but also like you deserve it all anyway. The tub isn’t freezing cold anymore, but the chill still seeps in through your shirt faintly, and it’s comforting against the heated blush.
“Sorry,” he says when his cackling has died down to chuckles. “I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you. I actually do want to help. I genuinely can’t take one more post with a caption that’s all thinly veiled pining.”
You pause, fiddle with your spoon for a moment, and then hesitantly ask— “Do you know if he likes me?”
Lando goes quiet, and then he hums and admits that he doesn’t. “But,” he adds quickly, “just because I don’t have total confirmation doesn’t mean it isn’t basically obvious. Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I know Oscar.”
You sigh, “But how are you going to help? You can’t just ask.”
“I don’t need to,” he answers, like you’re crazy for thinking he’d do something like that. “I’ve got a plan.”
Great. You run a hand down your face and try to stay optimistic. Another plan.
━━ tags: @f1-is-lovely-33 @chasing-liberosis @405rry
━━ a/n: a bit more writing heavy this part, and a bit longer because of it, but i'm proud of how it turned out! we're finally getting somewhere, and now we've got lando joining the team. genuinely had so much fun writing him, so i'm excited to feature him in future parts!
#formula 1#formula one#f1#formula 1 imagine#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri imagine#social media au#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#logan sargeant#alex albon#lando norris
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The Morning After
read my other work here!
pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader
*i say it's a plus size reader, but it is not something that i focus on explicitly in my fics, because your size should not define you. it will only come up if it comes into the story organically.*
word count: 2,583
trigger warning: vomiting
summary: the morning after Harry's 30th birthday, you're hungover and Harry reminds you of your drunken actions from the night before, leading to a conversation you never expected.
a/n: i missed Harry's birthday, but I got this idea for a morning after fic, so here we are. i've been writing a few things behind the scenes, and I know i've said a few times that I was going to try to come back, but this time i mean it. i'm working on a couple of one shots, and a new series that i'm very excited about, so hopefully you'll hear more from me soon!
tags: @abby8694 @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @laurxn-robinson @lexiecamposv @likeapplejuicenpeach @lilfreakjez @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat
You open your eyes and immediately groan in pain as they meet the sunlight shining into your bedroom. You quickly shut them and pull your pillow over your face. You had promised yourself you wouldn’t go too hard last night, but Harry kept wanting to do shots, and who were you to deny the birthday boy?
It was your best friend, Harry’s 30th birthday party, and he spared no expense. The room was packed with his closest family and friends, including a long list of famous faces. There was loud music, dancing, tons of food, and of course, alcohol. As with most parties, Harry barely let you out of his sight, and any time a tray of shots went past him he’d grab one for each of you. You lost count after a while, and truthfully, you aren’t really sure how you ended up at home and in your bed. You assumed Harry had something to do with it. You rarely got drunk, but when you did Harry was always very protective and caring, even if he was two sheets to the wind himself.
The ringing of your doorbell, followed by the incessant knocking at your door feel like a thousand nails being hammered into your head. You groan, but know it isn’t going to stop until you answer the door. You throw your legs over the side of your bed and sit still for a moment, working up the energy to stand and walk to the front door. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice a full glass of water and a couple of aspirin, sitting on top of the note:
For the lightweight in my life.
xH
A small smile plays on your lips at the note, combined with the thoughtfulness of your best friend. You take the pills and drink the entire glass of water before standing and making your way to the front door. You are immediately met with Harry’s infuriatingly handsome face, a wide grin plastered across it as if last night never happened.
“Took you long enough.” He says in a bright, teasing tone. You immediately bring your hand to your forehead, the voice that usually causes butterflies in your stomach piercing right through your brain. “Rough night?” He asks knowingly.
You flip him off before stepping aside to let him in. “How can you possibly be this okay right now?” You ask in disbelief as you shuffle to the couch, collapsing onto your back and resting your arm across your eyes. “I’m not just okay, I’m great!” He lifts your feet up and sits on the couch, placing your legs down in his lap. “I’ve been up for hours, went on a nice run, got some shopping done. It’s been quite a productive day.”
You pull the pillow out from under your head and throw it at him. He catches it with ease and chuckles at your meek sign of aggression.
The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a few moments before you finally speak up. “I’m not going to be a fun hang today, just so you know.”
Harry chuckles and shakes his head. “You never are, why would today be any different?” He jokes. You move your arm away from your eyes and look up at him, narrowing your gaze.
He lets out a loud laugh and holds his hands up defensively. “Just kidding! You know you’re my favorite.” He leans over and boops your nose. A sign of affection the two of you often share.
You smirk and shake your head as it falls back on the couch. “Did you have fun last night?”
“So much fun, the party was amazing!” Harry beams. “I got to see so many people that I hadn’t seen in a while. But you know what my favorite part was?”
You groan in reply, signaling for him to continue, your eyes closed to block the sunlight.
He turns to look at your face, his expression and tone softening. “At the end of the night, when we were saying goodbye to everyone and you kissed me…”
It feels as though time stands still. The nausea and pain from the hangover immediately replaced by panic and shock. You sit up straight and look at him with a furrowed brow. “Kissed… like kissed kissed?”
He grins and nods. “A proper kiss, tongue and everything.”
Your face immediately turns a bright shade of crimson and your eyes go wide. You’d had more than friendly feelings for Harry for a while, but you were certain those feelings would never be returned. He always introduced you to his superstar, super skinny girlfriends, so you always felt your thick thighs and big stomach were far from his type. You’d much rather spend your life hiding your feelings and having him in your life as a friend than to tell him how you feel and end up losing him because those feelings weren’t returned.
“Harry, I am so sorry… I was drunk… I don’t even remember it happening… I…” You panic and begin to ramble out an apology.
“Hey hey hey,” he interrupts you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You have nothing to apologize for. I was glad that you kissed me. It was nice, I felt… wanted.”
You scoff slightly. “You’re one of the most wanted men in the world, you don’t need a sloppy drunk kiss for that.”
“But I liked feeling wanted by you. You didn’t want Harry Styles, famous pop star. You wanted me, just regular Harry.”
“Just regular Harry is my favorite person.” You say in a soft, caring tone.
“I know he is, that’s why I enjoyed that kiss so much. And it got me wondering…” He trails off, thinking of the best way to bring up what he wants to say. “They often say people are their most honest selves when they’re drunk, so I was wondering if that kiss meant anything to you? Like if maybe you were thinking of me as more than just a friend…”
Your hangover mixed with the anxiety of being called out for your secret feelings causes your nausea to return. You immediately start stuttering. “What? I… you’re my best friend! We aren’t… I don’t…”
Harry reaches out, gently cupping your cheeks in his hands. “Shhh, it’s okay. We’re always going to be best friends, I promise.” He assures you, his eyes staring deep into yours. “Do you want to know what I wished for last night when I blew out my candles?”
You shake your head slowly, your mind racing and your stomach churning too much to actually be able to form words.
“The same thing I’ve wished for every birthday since you came into my life. For you to see me as more than your best friend, for you to want me even half as much as I want you.”
Your breath hitches at his words, you study his expression and see love, adoration, vulnerability in his eyes. Before you can respond, you feel the nausea taking over. You push out of Harry’s arms and run to the bathroom, You drop to your knees just in time to empty the contents of your stomach into the toilet.
Harry is right behind you, kneeling down next to you, pulling your hair back with one hand, and rubbing your back in soothing circles with the other. “Shh, you’re okay Y/N, just let it out. You’ll feel so much better when it’s over.”
When you’re finally finished throwing up you shift so that you;re sitting on the floor, your back resting against the wall. Harry grabs a washcloth and runs it under the water before bringing it to you and dabbing it on your forehead. “You know, you could have just said no. It doesn’t do great things for one’s self esteem to have a girl vomit the moment you declare your love for her.” He says with a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood.
You let out a small, weak chuckle. “Harry, I…” You whisper.
“It’s just a joke, love. Let’s not talk about it right now, let me just take care of you, yeah?” He says kindly, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear as you nod in reply. “Good girl, now what do you need?”
“Toothbrush…”
He nods, and places a kiss on your forehead before standing up and getting your toothbrush, he puts a bead of toothpaste on it and kneels back down handing it to you. “Go easy, you don’t want to start anything back up.”
You look at him gratefully as you begin brushing your teeth. He watches on, as he strokes your hair to comfort you.
“Is it weird that I think you look cute when you’re sick?” He asks, looking at you fondly.
You let out a soft chuckle and shake your head as you continue to brush your teeth.
His smile grows at the sound of your laugh. “I love that laugh, I’m glad I was able to get it out of you even when you’re feeling like this.” He’s silent for a moment before speaking up again. “I hate that you don’t feel good, but I love being able to take care of you. Especially when you’re so vulnerable like this, it shows how much you trust me, and that means everything to me.”
You look up at him as you brush your teeth, hoping your expression conveys all of the love and gratitude in your heart at that moment. You slowly stand up and make your way to the sink, where you spit and rinse.
Harry is quick to get up and stand beside you, he takes in your blotchy complexion and messy hair, and it’s clear that you’ve still got a long way to go before you’re back to normal. “Still not feeling so great?”
You shake your head. “I told you I wasn’t going to be a good hang…”
Harry chuckles. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m having a blast! C’mon, let’s get you back to bed.” He moves to put his arms around you as if he’s going to try to lift you.
“Harry, what are you doing?” You step back from his arms.
“I’m carrying you to bed.” He says, confused. He thought it was pretty clear what he was doing.
“I can walk, it’s fine. Nobody wins if you try to carry me.”
He furrows his brow and tilts his head. “What do you mean, nobody wins?”
You sigh, hating that you have to spell it out for him. “You’re not going to be able to lift me. You’re going to feel bad because you were wrong, and I won’t even be able to gloat about being right because I’ll feel bad about being fat.”
“Hey,” Harry says sternly. “I told you never to say that about yourself.” You had always been self-deprecating, and Harry hated it. He wished you could see yourself the way he did, because he saw you as absolutely perfect and beautiful.
You look down, embarrassed about the slip of the tongue. You had stopped saying it in front of Harry, but you hadn’t stopped believing it, so in your weakened state, you had let it slip my mistake.
Harry slides a finger under your chin and lifts your gaze. “How about this? Let me try, if I can’t carry you to bed, I’ll clean up your whole apartment while you sleep. If I can, you have to cuddle in bed with me all day. Deal?”
You roll your eyes and sigh, knowing he’s not going to let this go. “Fine.”
Harry grins triumphantly and scoops you up with ease, carrying you bridal style down the hall and to your room, where he places you gently on the bed. He tucks you in before moving to the other side and slipping in next to you. “Told you so.” He says smugly.
“Nobody’s ever been able to do that before.” You say in awe.
He smiles and pulls you into him, laying your head on his chest. “I bet I can name three more things nobody else can do for you…” He kisses the top of your head.
“Try me,” you mumble as you snuggle closer to him.
“I can make you laugh when you’re at your worst, I can calm you down when you’re spiraling, and I can make you turn that adorable shade of red when I get flirty with you.” He chuckles.
You sigh and nod your head against his chest, agreeing to all three statements.
He squeezes you a little tighter, one hand coming up to stroke your hair. “And you do all those things for me. That’s why I think we’d be so amazing together. We bring out the best in each other, and provide comfort and support at our worst. I can’t think of anything more important in a relationship.”
I hum thoughtfully, tears welling in my eyes at his words. He’s right, of course you’ve seen it all along, but the fact that he sees it too is overwhelming. I tilt my head and lock eyes with him.
When he sees your watery eyes, his expression drops. “Oh, Y/N I’m sorry if I said too much. Nothing has to change if you don’t want it to, I promise. Just don’t cry, okay?” He reaches down to cup your cheek, wiping a stray tear away with his thumb.
You shake your head rapidly. “No no no, I just… I never thought I’d hear you say this kind of stuff to me. I agree with you completely.”
Harry’s breath hitches at your words, a wide grin spreads across his face. “Yeah?” You grin back and nod your head. “So you’d be willing to give us a shot… as more than friends?”
“Definitely.” You say without hesitation.
He smiles softly and strokes your cheek with his thumb. “I really want to kiss you, but I’m afraid you’ll throw up again, and my ego can’t take it.” He says lightheartedly.
You giggle softly. “I get it. It’s okay, I feel too gross to kiss anyone right now anyway.”
“What can I do for you right now?”
“Um… I actually think I want to take a shower, but I can do that on my own.”
Harry arches a brow and smirks slyly at you. “You sure I can’t help you?”
You chuckle and slap his chest playfully. “Positive, you perv.”
“Fine, fine… how about this? While you shower, I’ll make you some breakfast, to help your tummy.” He runs his fingers through your hair, wanting nothing more than to take care of you.
You smile and blush. “You don’t have to do that…”
“You’re my girl,” he pauses, letting the gravity of his words sink in, you both smile dreamily at each other. “It’s my job to take care of you.”
“Your girl…” You sigh.
He smiles as he stares down at your dreamy expression. “You alright?”
“Yeah… actually, I’m suddenly feeling much better.”
Harry chuckles, kissing you on the forehead. “Good, well you go shower and I’ll make you a nice breakfast, we’ll get you back to normal in no time.
You roll out of bed and make your way to the door. You throw one more glance over your shoulder, smiling softly at Harry. When your eyes meet, he blows you a kiss. In that moment, he can’t help but think that thirty could be his best year yet.
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