#angst? kinda? not sure if it qualifies?

[captainpulisic]

said im fine but it wasnt true - m. mount

hearing cruel summer live changes you as a person. wc: 3.3k gif creds to owner

it had meant to be a summer fling, nothing more. from the very beginning, it was mutually decided upon that it was just two good friends hooking up- something none of your other friends would ever find out about. it wasn’t anything serious, so why involve other people?

that’s what you kept telling yourself, anyway.

you had been positive you could keep the sex as meaningless and detached as possible. you thought it’d be enough to have mason when he’d give himself to you and not a minute more. who cared that your heart beat embarrassingly fast when you’d catch his stare during a night out with friends, knowing you’d certainly be leaving with him. that most nights, after a long fuck, he’d practically beg you to stay the night, not wanting to sleep without you. it wasn’t of any importance that this situationship- if that’s what it could be called- had you constantly questioning the line between ‘just sex’ and the outline of a real relationship. I mean, how many mornings can you wake up to him peppering your face with kisses and shy smiles before you could consider him more than just a fuck buddy?

it was all so confusing for your heart and you brain. did you want more? did he? and why did the idea of the answers being ‘yes’ make you weak at the knees? wasn’t this the exact thing you both agreed couldn’t happen, the one rule you had made?

you were screwed.

yet, every doubt and worry you had over your predicament would temporarily vanish when you’d tap on his door. he’d greet you with a shy smile and a soft glint in his eyes. it was all too soft. as soon as you stepped foot inside, his fingers were everywhere. on your cheeks, your jaw, and down your shoulders. they’d end up traveling up and down your sides until they settled on your waist. quickly, his body would be pressed up against yours, a hot mouth marking up the side of your neck.

he was everywhere. you felt him everywhere. the way he was on you, it was as if he couldn’t bear the idea of having you in proximity and not be touching you. and there were no complaints on your part.

he continued to kiss you, messily and heatedly. and you kissed him back until you were both repeating each other's name, as if they were sacred prayers. like usual, there was a messy, abandoned trail of clothes left in the hallway. and just like usual, it led to masons bedroom where you could be found laid together in bed. blissfully, spent and content.

as he left soft kisses on your collarbone and jaw, he continued to whisper how lovely you were. he’d talk nonsense about how these were the best ways to spend his nights, that there's nowhere he’d rather be.

boy, did that make your heart do somersaults. you’re sure your face was crimson as he continued the soft praises.

it’s just sex.

it’s just sex.

it’s just sex.

all you could do to save face was scoff, “calm down, it’s just sex.”

yes, you reaffirmed yourself. you both begin to get up, ready to go find where you had thrown your shirts not so long ago. if I keep saying it, maybe i'll even end up believing it.

“no it’s not,” mason deadpans. he pauses all movement and for some reason, you feel obligated to mirror his actions. this is it, you feel yourself buzz with anticipation. he’ll say it’s not just sex for him, either. you want to look at him straight on, ready to tell him you’ve been feeling the same way for awhile. and with the way his eyes won’t leave yours, you can practically hear the words wanting to leave his mouth. you’re tempted to just kiss him and let that show him you’ve been aching for more than just these secret hookups. suddenly the corner of his lip turns upward, “it’s award winning sex.”

oh.

it was at that moment you realized it was in fact not just sex. not for you, at least.

and the next moment is when you realized you couldn’t keep up this little game, anymore. a part of you knew you could continue giving yourself to mason whenever he called, only taking what he’d let you have. you’d settle for it because having some of him in the dark hours would be better than nothing at all. and when you realized how pathetic that sounded, you knew what you had to do. there had to be some self respect.

this all had happened two weeks ago. that next morning, you had swatted away masons roaming hands and dodged the kisses he was trying to leave along your face. you mumbled some half hearted excuses about your unusual rush to leave and avoided his sad stare as you hastily dressed yourself. when you got his usual text the following night, begging you to come over, you figured it was as best time as any to rip off the band aid. it was a simple, short text saying these late night reach outs and quick fucks weren’t what you wanted anymore.

i hope you can understand where i’m coming from, you had typed. lets go back to just being friends, yeah?

you felt ill as soon as you hit send.

you felt even worse when he spent two whole minutes typing, just for the bubble to disappear and not a single reply come back. the following days were radio silence on his part. you hadn’t known this absence would make you feel as lonely and as sad as you were.

this is what has led you to your current crisis. getting shitfaced in some downtown pub, drinking until you can forget who has you there. staring at the third empty glass in front of you, your mind swirled with bittersweet memories of mason.

“we just don’t get it,” one of your friends frowned at you. you’re sure she means well but it’s hard to care too much when you can’t even recall her name at the moment. looking at the group of friends who’d practically forced you out of your bed and to come out, their eyes were full of concern and sympathy. “you never even told us you were seeing someone.”

“I-”, you begin but instantly stop. your words are starting to get all jumbled up in your mouth and the world around you is slowing down. it takes you a moment to breathe and organize your thoughts.

where’s mason?

all you want is mason.

why isn’t he here?

why didn’t he want you the way you wanted him?

another friend prods, “was it that serious?”

you felt the tears welling up in your eyes. all you could do is give a slight shake to your head. you try to smile but you’re sure you’ll start crying if you force it.

no, you kept thinking. I loved him and wanted him but all he wanted was sex. it was anything but serious.

there was only one way to get this idiotic brain to shut up. reaching out to chug the remainder of your drink, your frown gets deeper when you remember the cup is empty. standing up from the too crowded table, you let out a slurred, “‘m just gonna get one more.”

yet,as soon as you rise, your legs feel less sturdy than usual and the room has a slight haze to it. another concerned friend holds out their arm for support, worry growing more evident on her face.

“are you sure?” she sighs. lightly tugging on your arm, she tries to guide you to sit back down. “you’ve had enough, no?”

“no,” you practically whine. this is the only way to get your mind off of mason and these people have the audacity to deny you it. still standing, you try to get free of her grasp and tug towards the direction of the bar. it’s half cry and half whisper, “just one more.”

“maybe we should get you home?” another friend, wearing an even more sympathetic expression (if possible) chimes in. “lets call it a night, yeah?”

“no!” you protest, once again. “you guys don’t have to cut your night short because of me.”

the table erupts with their assurance of them not minding and that they’ll gladly drop everything to take you home. you know they mean well but it just adds even more guilt and weight to your heavy heart.

“I mean it,” you straighten yourself up as much as you can. you offer a small smile and wave them off. pulling out your phone, you’re able to somewhat make out the apps icons. cluelessly swiping at your phone, “i’ll order an uber and you guys can stay.”

it takes a few more minutes of convincing and protest, but nonetheless, they oblige to your request. after hugs and promises that you’ll soon get over your mystery man, two of them help you stumble outside and wait for your ride.

when your assigned car arrives and your friends triple check that the license plate is a match, final hugs and words of consolation are given. once in the car and speeding down the empty streets, it takes a great deal of effort not to puke and not to cry.

instead of thinking about how badly you want to spill your guts, you think of the boy whose absence feels like a dull stab at the heart. that’s what's been occupying your thoughts for the past weeks, anyway. if we’re being honest, he was the sole person in your thoughts. him and the beautiful summer you had shared together. if you closed your eyes, you could see it all so clearly.

you could recall the trip to his house like the back of your hand. you knew the paveway of trees that greet you as soon as you turn onto his street, the shiny gate blocking entryway to his house. blindfolded, you could locate the flower pot where he hid his spare keys. you’d use them almost every time you’d sneak away into his house and arms.

wait.

feeling the car park, you’re snapped out of your daydreams and look out towards the window.

it’s not that you could just recall all of those stupid details, which you’ve proven you could. it was that you were watching it all unfold outside of the car's window. you were smackdab in the middle of it, parked right in front of his house.

“hey,” you mumble in a panic. tapping on the window, towards the direction of masons house. with the fear setting in, your tears are ready to make their comeback. you feel like a child, helpless and scared. your voice wavers with a small sob, “this is not my house.”

the poor uber driver looks as confused as you. shaking his head, he surrenders his hands up. “I just brought you to the address you gave me.”

“I did not- '', you begin to argue. grabbing your phone, you squint at the screen, ready to show him how you had put your own address. and how it definitely wasn’t this one. and how he was going to have to explain what type of sick joke he was playing on you by bringing you here. yet, after a long struggle to find the fucking app, all words leave your mouth when you see masons address as the destination.

oh, force of habit.

all summer, during your little flings with mason, it had become second nature to get a lift to his house. it came more naturally to give directions to his house than to your own. it felt more like home, too.

“alright, you can leave me here.” you’re not sure if the alcohol is giving you the courage to face him or if you just really want to see his stupidly beautiful face- or if you’ve officially gone insane, but you find yourself unbuckling your seatbelt.

“ma’am are you sure?” the driver's gaze shifts between you and the enormous house looming over you both. you’re sure you must look insane with your tear filled eyes and inebriated state. you went from being terrified of where you were to shaking with anticipation. he offers a small smile, unsure how to proceed. “I can take you somewhere else if this was an error, I could go back to where I picked you up.”

“no,” you interject. “it’s fine, i’m fine, thank you.”

“really, it’s no problem-”

you wave him off, trying to appear as sober as you could possibly seem. opening the car door, “I was just confused. this is my friends house, silly me to not recognize it.”

he eyes you suspiciously but nevertheless nods as you get off. you try your best not to to wobble as you wave goodbye and walk away. but it’s not until you make your way through the familiar garden gate that you see the headlights pull off.

with that, you’re left standing alone in front of masons house. theres a small ache in your chest as you see the entire house is dark, not one ray of light peeking through any window.

what if he's not even home?

what if he's the one sneaking into someone else's house now?

you feel like you're going to throw up all over again. and it’s not because of the three vodka cokes you’d had.

that's it. you have to get into the house and find him and tell him…well, you don’t know what yet, but you have to say something.

the sensible you would figure that knocking or even calling him would be the best way to go, but clearly you’re not the most sensible person tonight.

standing in the middle of the garden, you take a breath and yell his name to the endless mirage of windows. within a minute, a light turns on and a window on the second floor shimmies open. it’s dark and far but you can slightly make out masons confused face.

“y/n?” you could see him squint down at you. “is that you-”

“I know this doesn’t make sense and what we had is over but for whatever it’s worth,” you cut him off, your mouth moving at its own volition. you pause, unable to believe that you’re finally going to say it. you have to choke down a sob before you scream, “i’m in love with you.”

you can see mason freeze. it's barely a shout when he says, “what?”

did he really not hear you or does he just like torturing you now?

“I love you, idiot.” you shout, again. there it is. all your emotions and feelings laid out in front of him. there's no use in trying to stop the tears so you just let them stream down your flushed face. once more, “i’m so in love with you and maybe that’s the worst thing, or the last thing, you wanna hear from me but it’s true.”

it all happens so fast. if you’d blinked, you would’ve missed it. the window mason was leaning out of, was left deserted without him saying anything back to you. you’re stood frozen, unsure of what to do. was your confession so horrible that he retreated back to his room, waiting for you to get the hint and leave? as you debate this, the side door, leading to the garden where you stand, bursts open.

he’s breathless, and an image of him running down the stairs flashes in your mind.

in just a few, short steps, he’s standing directly in front of you. his eyes are wide, slightly crazed. he hesitates as he merely whispers, “what did you say?”

“I love you and you don’t even care.” looking up at him, you try to blink away the tears. you’re sure you look a blubbering mess, and embarrassingly enough, there might be some snot. “you don’t care but it doesn’t matter. I needed to tell you that i’m so stupidly in love with you and you don’t even care. ”

“I do care.” his hands reach to hold your face but you swat them away.

“you don’t,” you begin to take a step back. what are you even doing? was this a love confession or a chance to tell him off? maybe, a bit of both? it’s just too confusing. pointing an accusatory finger at him, “if you cared, you’d have had the decency to reach out.”

he tries to interject but you just keep going. crying harder than before, “when our little hookups ended, a part of me hoped it would make you realize that you couldn’t bear the thought of not being together. that you would come back to me and tell me it all meant more to you. why didn’t you come back to me? why didn’t I deserve a fucking text back? it might’ve been just sex for you, but to me it meant everything.”

“that’s what you think?” mason scoffs, which only infuriates you more. it’s not until you really look at him that you see the same tears pool in his eyes. it’s when you see that he looks just as broken as you do. “I tortured my brain for days, trying to find the right words, to get you to understand that it wasn’t just sex for me.”

you squint your eyes at him, causing him to sigh. he continues, “okay, maybe I thought it was at first but then I read your text and it nearly broke me. at first, I thought I was just embarrassed that I got dumped over text but then I realized I was miserable at the thought of not having you anymore.”

you let out a defeated sigh, “but you never texted me back.”

“y/n,” it’s a sad smile, as you finally give in and let his hands cup your face. “I’ve typed and deleted a hundred texts, telling you I love you. but what if I said the wrong things and you'd leave again? I don't think i'd survive it. I don’t think i’d survive being forever known as the idiot who let you get away.”

you want to scold yourself for the way your heart flutters, “you really love me?”

his thumbs are stroking under your eyes, wiping away any tears that’ve overstayed their welcome. he’s giving you that smile, that boyish smile you fell in love with. that bastard, he’s always known how to get you weak in the knees. he says it so softly, “i love you, yes of course I love you. i've loved you since we started whatever this is, maybe even before then. i’m sure I fell in love with you the moment we met.”

instead of answering him, you shush him by pulling him down to meet your lips. it’s a kiss filled with ‘i love you’s and ‘i'm sorry's and ‘please, stay’s. you don’t even realize when mason has taken your hand, leading you inside the house and up the staircase. yet, as he leads you to the bedroom where you spent countless summer nights, you feel utterly happy.

you continue to interrupt the kisses with, “say it again.”

and not once does mason deny you with his, “I love you.”

leaving a delicate kiss on his jaw, you whisper against his neck, “i’ll never get tired of hearing it.”

mason returns a kiss to your forehead, mirroring your lovesick smile. leaning close to your ear, “lucky for you pretty girl, i’ll never get tired of saying it.”

you loved mason, unashamedly and quite pathetically. and you’d continue to do so for the rest of your life, if he let you.

feedback is appreciated, please :)

[giannaln4]

I'm Sorry

lando norris x fem reader

summary: A moment of frustration made Lando react the way you never thought he would, and boy, would he regret it.  (1.6k words)

warnings: angst, swearing, argument, mean lando,  fluffy ending

a/n: ok so for this, i decided to go back to Baku and put the quali result in a totally different perspective than my last fic. i guess i kinda like it but i'm not very good at describing arguments 😭 anyway pls let me know what you think!!

ALSO i have an announcement to make and i'm really excited for it :)

check out the original request here!

↺ back to navigation — send me a request!

The qualifying this weekend was an absolute mess, to say the least. Lando was hard on himself no matter the result he got. Even if it was good, he would always find something to criticise himself, but P17? Everyone was in for a treat, you thought.

The worst part is that it wasn’t even his fault; it was a stupid mistake by the marshals, and he was not to blame for it. A yellow flag interrupted his lap, and he was immediately kicked out in Q1. 

Seeing the first qualifying session being over with his name in red was not something anyone wanted to see, especially not him, and now that every point was essential, you knew it crushed him.

He came back to the garage to see the rest of the qualifying with his team, and as soon as he got out of the car, you saw how frustrated he was. You understood him, of course, it sucked that this is how the weekend was going, but you would be there for him no matter what.

Once Lando took off his helmet, he headed straight to his driver’s room, and he didn’t even look at you when he walked past. That meant he wanted to be alone, but oh silly you, you decided to follow him.

He let out a loud sight when he heard the door open and close behind him, not really in the mood to hear what you had to say. He knew for a fact you were going to tell him he did well and it wasn’t his fault, which he greatly appreciated, but right now, he just wanted to suffer in peace.

“Baby?” You called him out, just testing the waters, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he hummed in annoyance. “I know you don’t want to hear this right now, but-”

“You are right, I don’t want to hear it,” he interrupted you, not even turning around to face you. He placed his hands on the desk and leaned into it, taking a deep breath. 

That should have been your cue to leave the small room and leave him alone, but for some reason you didn’t. “Lando, don't beat yourself up over this. It wasn’t your fault, and I’m sure things will be better tomorrow. We all know what you can do and you still have the race-“

“This is MY job, Y/N. I probably know better than you do,” he snapped, raising his voice and finally turning around. “This is what I’m fighting for, we all are. Do you know what’s at stake here? I finally have the chance to compete for a championship, and I just blew it.”

To say you were astonished was an understatement; this was the first time he ever snapped at you that way and you didn’t know how to react. “I’m sorry, I just-”

“Every point counts, and not even starting in the top 10 tomorrow- fuck, not even top 15, there is not much I can do.” Now, he looked more mad at you than frustrated at himself, and that crushed you. “I came here to be alone for a bit, I was hoping you would at least respect that." You stayed silent, knowing a single sound would make you cry, and you didn’t want to piss him off more than he already was. “I know you are trying to help, but you are not, you can’t.”

You just stared at him, tears threatening to leave your eyes; he had never raised his voice at you in a heated moment, and it hurt like hell. You definitely should have stayed outside. 

He walked towards the door and stepped out of the room without uttering another word, leaving you alone to deal with your own feelings. 

As soon as the door was closed, you started crying. It was your own fault, really; you could always read him like a book, even today, and you knew better than to disturb him when you weren’t supposed to, but today for some reason you just couldn't keep your mouth shut. Idiot.

You tried to calm yourself down; the last thing Lando needed was to see you cry on top of his result, but it was harder than you expected. This being the first time an argument got so out of hand made you feel absolutely terrible, especially because it was your fault. Deep down, you knew he didn’t mean it, you knew it was his feelings talking, but that didn’t make it any less painful.

A few minutes went by and you could still hear the cars out on track, the mumbling of the team, and people constantly working out there, so you tried to use that as a distraction. Anything to take your mind off what just happened. 

Unfortunately, it didn’t help, but at least you ran out of tears, and now you were just staring at a blank wall, thinking how you could begin to apologise for earlier, if he would even give you the chance to. 

Truth is, you weren’t sure if bringing it up again would be a good idea; you wanted to apologise for disrupting his cooldown moment, but what if hearing that made him mad again? Or worse, what if you didn’t apologise and made the situation even bigger? Your spiralling made you lose track of time, and a knock on the door pulled you out of your thoughts. 

“The car is about to leave, Y/N, they are waiting for you,” you heard someone say on the other side of the door. You were at least hoping Lando would come and get you once it was time to go back to the hotel, but he didn’t.

“Thanks, I will be there in a minute,” you replied, grabbing your things and Lando’s before sprinting outside. 

The car ride was hell. Lando didn’t look at you the entire time; he was just staring at his phone, texting who knows who, his face as neutral as ever. It felt longer than it actually was, and when you finally got there, he just stepped out of the car and didn’t look back. You let out a sigh and followed him, leaving a prudent distance between the two of you. 

Once you were in the hotel room, you both started to get ready for bed, like you usually did, except this time, you didn’t acknowledge each other. 

That was until you were already on your side of the bed and he came out of the bathroom, taking the spot next to you and burying his face on his phone again. The entire time you were building up the courage to say something, anything, now that you decided that apologising was the right thing to do.

“Lando?” You called for him, but again, he just hummed in response. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You were right, I shouldn’t have said anything, and I should have respected that you just wanted to be alone.”

That’s when it hit him. How could he get so mad at you for trying to make him feel better? 

He dropped his phone and turned to face you, and noticing your sad expression and teary eyes broke him. His eyes softened as guilt washed over him. Why were you apologising when he was the one who reacted like that? But as soon as you looked down at your hands to avoid eye contact and tears started falling down your face again, he felt even worse. 

“Y/N… Baby, I’m so sorry.” He got closer to you, softly taking your cheeks in his hands to get you to look at him. “Please don’t cry, I’m sorry I acted like a dick and raised my voice at you,” he stared, wiping your tears away, carefully thinking about what else he could say. 

You, on the other hand, didn’t know how to react. Your plan was to apologise and hopefully move on, but now that he was apologising, you didn’t know what to say; you didn’t want him to feel guilty, even though it was his fault you were in that position right now. If only he took a different approach. 

“It wasn’t your fault, okay? You were just trying to help, and I should have appreciated that, you know that I do, I just... I don’t know, there is no excuse for what I did.” But you were still silent and trying to avoid eye contact. “Baby, say something.” 

“Lando, you yelled at me.” You finally replied, your voice a bit muffled by your tears.

“I know, I shouldn’t have done that, and I promise I’ll never do it again.”

After a minute of silence, you just nodded, which made him let out a sigh of relief. “Okay.”

“Okay? I’m sorry, my love.” He pulled you into a hug, your head on his chest as he placed a soft kiss on your head. “I know I was a dick, and I really wish I was nicer about it.”

“It’s okay, I get it; you were frustrated with your result, and I should’ve known better than to interfere with what you were feeling.”

“No, it’s not okay. I was frustrated, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” Lando was rubbing your back softly, trying to bring you the comfort you tried to give him earlier. “I love you, and I can’t describe how much I appreciate everything you do for me; I know having to deal with my shit is not easy, so thank you.”

“It’s fine, I mean it.” You looked up at him, locking eyes finally in the entire day. “Just... don’t push me away, okay? And if you do need to be alone, just say it, and I promise I will listen next time.”

“Okay, sounds good.”

He gently placed a hand on your check, rubbing small circles before leaning in for a kiss, one both of you much needed. And with one final ‘I love you’, you feel asleep in his arms.

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ Sympathy for the Devil ♡

♡ Pairings: mobster!boyfriend!jimin x chubby!fem!reader

♡ Genre: mafia au/angst/smut

♡ Summary: After an arguement with your boyfriend, you set out to get back at him by bringing a date to the restaurant he frequents on a night you know he'll be there. It's a dangerous game, toying with another human life to get your way, but you do love danger, don't you? You wouldn't be looking to make a killer jealous if you didn't.

♡ Word Count: 3.2k

♡ Warnings: appearance of other members (non romantic), dom Jimin w/ switch vibes sprinkled in, unprotected sex, vaginal penetration, rough sex, clit teasing, marking (hickeys), pet names (baby), you're feral for each other, fingering (f receiving), spanking, you give him a lil slap, choking, bathroom sex, possessiveness, jealousy, you're both kinda psychotic, implied murder, & that's it for the list of wholesome things in this fic.

♡ A/N: I'm such a sucker for mafia movies so I have the biggest soft spot for mafia fics. I want to thank @anyamaris for reading this first and encouraging me along the way when I was struggling with writer's block. Idk what I'd do without my #1 cheerleader for my dom Jimin agenda ❤️

Some of the prettiest animals in nature are simultaneously the deadliest. Park Jimin is no exception...

It’s impossible not to be enchanted by him. His face is a heavenly mixture of handsomeness and beauty. The cadence of his voice is like a song you can’t quite get out of your head and just when you think you have it’s back again. It’s all enough to make a girl blind to the blood on his hands.

Falling in love with him made the rest of the world all fuzzy. It blurred out everything. Not just the money laundering or the drug trafficking. To love him, to be loved by him, makes everything else feel like background noise. You've never touched a hard drug in your life but, the way he makes you feel, he must qualify as one. 

That’s why you’re here doing the dumbest shit you’ve ever done in your life.

Arguments are inevitable in relationships. But arguments when you’re dating a mob guy? They’re different beasts entirely and it’s a bitch to tame them. Your last argument with Jimin led to you packing a bag and running off to your best friend’s place. In the beginning you never had to question if you came before everything else. You were special to him—at least you thought you were—and he’d stop anything to be with you.

But lately that hasn’t been the case. He’s been replacing his presence in your life with gifts, thinking he can make up for missed dates and lonely nights with designer bags. Maybe the other girlfriends are content with cuddling up to some ugly mink coat in place of their man but you aren’t one of them. 

He just can’t seem to get that through his thick skull so you’ve set out to make him. If the death stare he’s giving you across this bustling restaurant is any indication of how your plan’s going, it’s working like a charm. You spent hours styling your hair just the way he likes it. Elegant and sleek, marrying beautifully with the softness of your face.

Your manicured nails are painted a translucent blue that deepens the slightest bit when the light hits it a certain way. The dress you’re wearing accentuates your curves in all the places he loves which, let’s be honest, is everywhere. And your heels, the heels, somehow makes your ass look more perfect than it already is. All of this and you’re sitting at a table having dinner with another man. 

You spot Namjoon throwing an arm around Jimin’s shoulder, no doubt leaning in to give him one of his infamous pep talks. "Don’t worry about her” he’s surely saying, “It’s not worth it, man. See, sometimes love is just…” Joon goes on, doing his best to keep his younger brother from doing something stupid but Jimin’s hardly listening. How can he when his blood’s boiling hot enough to eat its way through his flesh?

Every Sunday night the brothers and their girlfriends come here for dinner. The owners, a sweet elderly couple, love them as if they were their own and give them the biggest table no matter how packed it is. This is the one night they get to pretend they’re a normal family. It’s tradition and you don’t fuck with tradition. Everyone knows that. You know that. 

“The thing a lot of women don’t understand is that men by nature aren’t monogamous” your date rambles between messy bites of dinner. The man’s not ugly by any means but god is he a pig, in more ways than one. Not that you’re complaining. It’s why you had your best friend set you up with him. Whoever you bought here was no doubt being led to slaughter. Who better than a pig?

A chill runs through you at the ruthlessness of your own thoughts, wiping the smile from your face. Looking up, Jimin captures you in his gaze, the death glare replaced with a look of childlike amusement. It’s as if the smile had fled from your face to find its new home on his, taunting you from afar. What’s he smiling for? You’re not foolish enough to think it’s for anything good. 

“I was thinking, it’s kinda loud in here. Wanna go to my place?” your date asks, his poor attempt at getting laid tonight falling on deaf ears.

Jimin stands up, slipping out of his suit jacket as he does so. Rolling up the sleeves of his pressed dress shirt, he leans to whisper something in Yoongi’s ear. Yoongi pours him a shot and he knocks it back like it’s nothing. The rest of the table watches on, concerned but doing their best to carry on dinner as usual. Their collective heart rate increases but none more than yours.

Maybe you hadn’t really thought this one out. Noticing the color drain from your face, your date reaches out to touch your hand. “Don’t!” you snap, jumping up from your seat. “I’m sorry. I just need a second.”  Jimin’s halfway across the dining room when you flee toward the bathroom, nearly knocking into some poor innocent waiter in the process. 

Navigating your way through the halls, you scramble to find a way out. You’ll tell the guy you’re sick. That’s it. Say you’re not feeling too well, must be the food or something, and send him on his way. Pretend this never happened.

“Beautiful dress, darling” an older woman smiles as she leaves the bathroom. You dash in before the door closes behind her, peeking your head back out to avoid being rude. “Thank you!” you shout after her, quickly shutting the door and hurrying to the sink to splash some water on your face.

“Snap out of it” you whisper, flicking specks of icy water at the makeup you worked tirelessly to apply. “Maybe…maybe he won’t do anything, right? We’re in public. He wouldn’t—” You force a weak, pained smile at the girl staring back at you in the mirror. “Who are you kidding?” you groan, burying your face in your hands, “He’s gonna kill him.”

“But you knew that already, didn’t you?” sighs a voice that is distinctively not yours. Your hands drop from your face and there Jimin is, standing in the doorway with that same smile on. The one he’d so brutally ripped from your face. And here you are, shivering like a child too afraid of the monster under the bed to make a run for it. 

In all your panic you could’ve sworn you locked the door when, in fact, you’d done no such thing. If he’d knocked you would’ve had to open it anyway—you’ve never been great at saying no to him—but at least you would’ve given yourself a fighting chance. Nothing to stress your pretty little head about. Jimin steps in, easing the door closed, and you hear a sharp click. It’s locked now.

The heels of his black Louboutin shoes tap against the polished tile as he approaches the sink. Your heart jumps with each tap, the sound growing unbearably louder the closer he gets. Jimin brings his arms around your waist, holding you as only lovers do, “You want me to hurt him, don’t you? Want me to break every bone in his body to show you how much I love you?” His full lips brush against your neck, soft tongue running along the surface of your skin like the head of a match ready to light up with dazzling flames.

Your eyes are glued to the mirror, watching helplessly as his hands skate up and down your body, fingertips ghosting your most sensitive areas. His touch is a truth serum, forcing you to betray yourself and lay your motives bare. “You protect the things you love, Jimin. I only wanted to know if I was still one of them. Even if that meant…” you shudder at the thought. “We get what we want by any means. That’s what you taught me, isn’t it?” 

Jimin grins, locking eyes with your reflection as he inches your dress up to reveal your pillowy thighs. “Aah but you already have me. I let you throw your little tantrum but I’ll never let you go. You know that.” His fingers dip between the warmth of your thighs, teasing your clit through your panties.

“So why?” he whispers, his other hand coming up to lovingly stroke your neck, “Why would you try to embarrass me?”

You part your lips to speak but your words are forced back down by the sudden pressure applied to your windpipe by his hand. All that escapes are broken words and hushed gasps for air. The light abandons his eyes, that boyish charm he so effortlessly wields burning to ash as you squirm in his grip. You kick your legs to get free but it only serves to give him the room he needs to tear your panties to the side, the pads of his fingertips dripping with your arousal as they glide through your folds.

He loosens his grip on your neck and you manage to rasp out “Mmm…sorry…didn’t mean” before you’re plunged back into silence. Curling his fingers against your entrance, he sinks one into your core. A single digit pumping into needy walls that are already clenching in anticipation of the next one. Snatching your head back, he kisses you like he hates you. Hates you so much that he loves you. Loves you so much that he hates you. A cycle, endless and all consuming, that neither of you can break from.

“Prove it to me” he demands between your lips, plunging another finger into you, “Bend over and show me how sorry you are.” Your back arches, bringing your soft ass flush against his bulge. You press back into him, feeling his cock twitch against your ass each time his fingers slam into your core. Jimin sneaks a glimpse at the mirror to watch the way your body jiggles from the motion. Thighs trembling, tits rocking in sync with the harsh movements of his wrist.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty, baby.” Jimin slips his hand away from your neck, drenched fingers abandoning your pussy to apply sharp, wet slaps to your ass.

Spinning around to face him, you land an equally sharp slap across his face, “Choke me like that again and I’ll rip your head off.”

If the burning of your palm is any indication, you know you hit him hard but he’s unphased. He's actually smiling, licking his lips at you like you’re the most delicious thing in this restaurant. He sweeps you off of your feet, setting you down on the sink, “So. Fucking. Pretty.”

The marble’s even colder against your bottom than it was your hands but you don’t give a shit. Jimin’s tongue’s down your throat as he pushes your dress up, ripping away what was left of your panties. That’s the only thing you give a shit about. 

“Jimin!” you giggle, tugging at the zipper on his pants, “You’re gonna make me fall.”

Hooking his arms behind your knees, he spreads your legs, pushing them to your chest. “Don’t worry, baby. I won’t let you fall.”

“Promise?” you pout, fingertips tracing the veins along his length.

They pulse and twitch as he raises his hips, dragging the underside of his cock between your folds. “I promise. I won’t—aah, shit, baby” he moans, his cock glazed in your arousal without having even been inside of you yet. “I didn’t know you missed me that much.” 

You grab onto his shirt, the cotton knotted in your fists as you bask in the feeling of the head brushing your clit. “I did. Missed you so much” you mewl, guiding him to your entrance. Jimin peppers your cheeks with kisses, pushing into you. Filling you. Claiming you.  “I, mmphh, missed, fuck, missed you too” he confesses, each word emphasized by thrusts that have you wanting to climb every wall in this bathroom.

When it comes to women Jimin’s told more lies than he can remember but never with you. He misses you and he means it, misses you so much that it hurts. Not just because you take his cock so well, somehow managing to look majestic when you’re being fucked up against this mirror. But because he feels incomplete without you.

Before you all he knew was violence and greed, constantly chasing power that would never be enough. Always needing more. He often wondered how much money it would take, how many buried enemies, to fill the emptiness that’s haunted him for as long as he can remember. And then you came along—the girl whose eyes twinkle as she stares up at him, your entire body calling out his name—and he had his answer.

All he needed to cure that emptiness, rid him of the nagging feeling that something’s missing, was you. But men like him have an image to maintain. In this world people come to know you for things, fear you for them, and you can’t let them think you’re soft. Not for a second. Not if you want to get what you want. “We get what we want by any means”. That is what he told you but nothing’s worth having if it’s by way of losing you. 

Dragging you to the edge of the sink, heart thumping out of his chest from how tightly you’re clenching, he whispers into your open mouth, “Come home. I’m in hell without you. Everything’s so…so empty. Just say you’ll come back to me. Say it.”

“I-I’ll come back home. Fuck, I’ll go the moon if you want me to” you pant, watery eyes sending mascara streaming down your cheeks. You tug harder at his shirt, sending a button or two clinking into the mirror. He’s in you so deep, hitting every spot like only he knows how, that you’re ready to explode. Implode? One or the other. Maybe both.

Jimin laughs, his tongue grazing yours, “You wanna go to the moon, baby? Hold onto me. I’ll take you.”

Knowing better than to doubt him, you throw your arms over his shoulders and hold on like your life depends on it. The sink creaks beneath you as he fucks harder into a pussy that just won’t stop leaking for him. You lose control of your body. All of it belongs to him, as it should. You make no attempts at denying yourself the ultimate satisfaction when it hits. Your lips crash together as you climax, your moans, bordering on screams, pouring onto his tongue.

He eagerly devours them, returning some of his own as your walls spasm wildly, milking the cum from his swollen tip. Your cunt wants every drop of it and he’s determined to give it to you. Fill you up until it’s dripping out of you, making your thighs warm and sticky with his seed. Your body gives out and he tucks an arm behind you, sticking to his promise not to let you fall.

Staring up at the ceiling, you’re sure you see space, stars twinkling before your eyes as you float there, completely weightless. Jimin’s lips meet your heaving chest, suckling at your silky skin to leave hickeys along your collarbone.

“Mine. All mine” he repeats, “Love you so much.” 

You run your fingers through his hair as he marks you, letting yourself get lost in the moment. “I love you too.” 

“Excuse me, sir. You’re holding up the bathroom” a comically high pitched voice says, tapping at the bathroom door. Jimin drags himself upright, knowing the voice too well. “You okay?” he asks, shuffling to make you both look presentable. He tries to fix your dress but there’s no use, he’s stretched it out more than he has you.

“Baby, it’s fine” you giggle, shooing him away, “I got it.” 

Jimin unlocks the door, snatching it open to reveal precisely who you both expected. “Thank god!” Jungkook cheers, rushing into the bathroom and over to the toilet. “Whose idea was it to have one bathroom here, man? I’ve had to piss for like—” Reading the look on Jimin’s face, he follows his gaze over to the sink where you sit buzzed off of the afterglow with your tattered panties at your feet.

Jungkook grins, looking you both up and down, “Safe to say you two are having a good night, huh?”

Jimin hits Jungkook in the back of the head, walking over to help you down from the sink. He holds you close to him, kissing you as he steers you towards the door. “Is it done?” Jimin asks over his shoulder but you don’t hear Jungkook’s response. It’s drowned out by the symphony of sounds that assault you as you venture back out into the restaurant, Jimin’s arms still holding you tight. Scanning the restaurant you spot the table you were at with your date but now there’s another couple there. 

“Long time no see!” Jin says, jumping up to hug you. His girlfriend follows behind, hugging you like she hasn’t seen you in years. “Come sit with me” she insists, noticing your disheveled appearance, “I’ll fix you right up. I have everything in my purse.” You settle into the chair beside her and she goes straight to work cleaning the mascara from your face.

Jimin sits beside you, an arm draped over the back of your chair, and watches attentively as you get your makeup done. “Nice to have you back” Taehyung smiles, pulling something from under the table and passing it to you. Jimin sets them down before you—your jacket and your purse. You’d forgotten them at the table when you fled to the bathroom.

“Uh, thanks, I—” you stutter, cut off by Hoseok’s sudden reappearance at the end of the table. You’d seen him earlier but hadn’t noticed his seat was empty when you returned. He tries to play it off, hide it behind a smile, but he’s out of breath, utterly exhausted from something. The men glance around the table at each other. It’s a silent conversation you know you shouldn’t be in on. 

“Jimin” you whisper, when you’re sure you aren’t interrupting, “Where’s…” 

Jimin casually pours you both a drink, presenting you with a glass of wine. “Where’s who?” 

“The guy that I was…”

“The guy that you were what, baby?” he asks, brow crinkling as he feigns ignorance. “You’ve been here with me all night, haven’t you?” He turns to the rest of the table who all seem to share his collective memory loss. “Hasn’t she?” 

“Absolutely.”

“Yeah.”

“Been here all night.”

“See? Now enjoy your drink and finish getting your makeup done” he coos, kissing you on the cheek.

Just like that, everyone resumes their conversations like it’s any other Sunday night dinner. You take a sip of your wine, the post-orgasm haze finally lifts from your brain, and all of the pieces come together in your mind. You shake the truth away, opting instead for the constructed reality necessary to pretend you just didn’t get a man killed.

What date? What guy? You’ve been here all night with Jimin. The man you came here with. The man you’ll leave here with. The man you love too much to ever run away from again. Unless, of course, you want to raise the homicide rate.

[lvis44]

Senna or Superman // LH44

Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Warnings: Language, Angst, Talk of this seasons difficulties, Suggestive dialogue, (Felipe Massa jump scare mention), Not Edited

Word Count: 4.3k+

Summary: Brazil 2024 was unforgiving, but amidst it all some greatness can still be achieved.

Notes: Hey y'all, like I said, I was feeling like typing and needed to work on something different for a second and I think I can speak for all of us that today had me feeling all of the emotions. There's definitely some angst in here but a lot of it is just absolute fluff and reader being an absolute Stan of her boyfriend, bc who wouldn't be if they were dating Lewis Hamilton, lets be real. Also, I've said it once I will say it again, I cannot follow a tense to save my life to ignore that. Kisses xxxx!!!

I am not a professional writer and all of this is a work of fiction and is strictly for fun. Enjoy! xxx

You hadn’t gotten much sleep and you were feeling it as you sat in the back of the Mercedes garage. Lewis had been hyper and full of anxious energy when he returned to the hotel last night. He had spent most of the previous day bobbing around the paddock like an energetic child, complaining about the delay in qualifying and trying to convince anyone that would listen to him that they should be sent out to try and put a lap together. He’s in Brazil, he wants to put on a show, but he’d been forced to wait much to his dismay and that had left you having to deal with him. He had been hyper after being so ready to go but never getting the release from his adrenaline and also annoyed that the sport had changed so much, yapping on about how when he first got to F1 they would have sent them out and that danger and adrenaline is a key part of the sport. You tried incessantly to get him to chill but you really had to just let him wear himself out, much like an actual child. It wasn’t until later in the evening, laying against his chest after finally convincing him to try to get some sleep, that you really got the answer to his emotions.

~

“I’m so excited and honored that I’m driving the MP4 tomorrow, but I’m also nervous. I was so prepared to do it today but having to wait, delaying the gratification, it’s really getting to me.” Lewis whispered into the comfortable silence, surprising you with the unprompted admission.

“It’s even more iconic to do it on race day.” You told him softly, rubbing your hand against his warm chest hoping to lighten the weight of whatever way playing in his mind.

He just hummed in response, evidently deep in his thoughts, his arm tightening around you ever so slightly.

“It’s understandable that you’re nervous Lew, you’re driving a piece of history, not just history to the sport but to your own personal journey and career. You’ve been asked to drive your idols car, the man is the reason you found your calling. Superman or Senna, right?” You kept your voice quiet, realizing that he needed to talk this through a bit more but not wanting to disrupt the peace that had settled around the two of you.

He smiled down at you as he heard the last part of your statement, chuckling lightly,  “Superman or Senna, yes indeed.” He trailed off for a moment, the soft smile lingering on his lips as he stared at the ceiling, almost as if reminiscing over those years when those were his two goals in life, back as a young boy in Stevenage. “What’s kinda funny is that it’s not that I’m really nervous about driving the car itself, like I feel confident in that part, I feel like I’m more than capable. It’s that I’m nervous that I don’t deserve this or something, this is a big deal and I would never want anyone to regret this decision or something. I honestly don’t even really know, like I don’t know why they would regret it I just, I don’t know. Just not really sure I’m worthy of this.” He finished his rant, letting out a deep sigh.

Hearing his thoughts caused you to sit up, no longer caring if you broke the peace in the room. You stared directly at him, eyes locked with his that were evidently startled at your abrupt departure from your cuddle.

“Lewis, I need you to listen to me. They chose you, Senna's family specifically chose you and asked you.” You started, poking him in the chest for emphasis before putting the same finger over his lips to shush him when he tried to argue. “They could have asked any of the other drivers on the grid, they could have asked a retired driver, they could honestly have asked whoever the hell they wanted, but no they asked for you. Not the current reigning champion, not the owner of the car, not even a Mclaren driver. They asked you, not only because they recognize your talent but because they see him in you. They see the love and respect that the people of Brazil have for you and they see you return that tenfold. This beautiful country made you a citizen for a reason, they see you carry that flag with the same pride as your own. Lew even Felipe Massa said that you deserve to be the one to drive that car and isn’t he like literally suing you right now?”

You finally let out a huff before the both of you erupt in a fit of giggles, Lewis forcefully pulling you back down to him to wrap you tightly in his arms. 

“I didn’t know he said that, honestly rather shocking because yeah, pretty sure he is. But ya know, I heard he’s running out of money.” His lips hold a smirk as he looks down at you before you’re both consumed by another fit of giggles. “Thank you,” He whispers once you’ve both calmed down, his lips against your forehead, “I needed to hear that. You know I get too much in my own head sometimes. Still have a hard time believing that all of this is real after everything I’ve been through, where I came from, ya know?”

“I do,” You say, tilting your head up to press a soft kiss to his lips, “you’re allowed to still revel in it, even after all this time. It truly is mental, even if it’s been this way for a while now. And by the way, I’m pretty sure the only reason they would ever regret letting you drive that car is if you crash it into a wall and break it, so just don’t do that and I’m pretty sure everything will be just fine.” You giggle, giving him another kiss.

“Well damn woman, no pressure or anything.” He fakes offence before splitting into a grin with you.

“Hey,” you say, your voice softer again, “I know I’m biassed and all, but know that I can’t think of anyone more deserving of this honor and I am so incredibly proud of you. I’m not sure I’ll be able to hold back the tears when I see you in that Mclaren tomorrow. You are an incredibly blessed man but you do not take it for granted and I am honoured that I get to see how incredible you are every single day, as a driver, as a partner, but most importantly as a human. Let yourself enjoy this Lew, you deserve it and I will be there watching in awe.”

“I love you so so much.” He says, his voice thick with emotion as he pulls you impossibly closer to him.

“I love you too,” You tell him softly, placing a kiss on his chest where he has squished your face into him, “now get some sleep, you have to be up in a few hours for that stupid early morning quali.”

~

Lewis had left early in the morning, sneaking out of bed around 3:30 to get ready. Only waking you accidentally when he placed a soft kiss on your forehead as he was leaving. He was apologetic, telling you to go back to sleep and that he would see you at the track. Not that you were able to get much more sleep, needing to get up and get ready yourself if you wanted any chance of making it there on time. When you had finally arrived to the garage, you made sure to perch yourself in the back, trying to stay out of the way of all the busy people rushing around you.You only got to see Lewis for a brief moment, only having enough time to give him a quick kiss and send him off with a final good luck encouragement. It was pointless though, you both knew the car wasn’t going to perform to Lewis’ liking. If anything it had somehow gotten worse for this weekend. 

As you sat in the garage watching on you couldn’t help but cringe. Lewis was battling with the car, not even making it out of Q1. You knew his mood wouldn’t be amazing when he finally made his way back to you after going to be weighed and speak to the media. You watched the next session, baffled by the sheer chaos unfolding and you couldn’t help but pray that the race would end up being better. The grid was out of position and red flags were being thrown left and right. You let out a sigh when you saw your man finally enter the garage, his helmet still on. He stopped momentarily to speak with some of his engineers, shaking peoples hands and thanking them for their hard work. He finally locked onto you, gesturing for you to follow him as he made his way to his drivers room. When you walked in behind him you could see how heavy his shoulders were. His helmet had been discarded on the bench beside him but he still hadn’t turned around.

“Hey, we knew it was gonna be shit, right?” You said quietly, putting your hand on his damp back.

“Yeah, we did. I’m just so ready for this season to be over.” He finally said, letting out a deep breath as he turned to face you.

“We’re so close babe, so so close. And for now we get to take a little time away from this devil of a car.” You told him, wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands found your waist. Not caring one bit that he was soggy from the rain and the sweat, just content to be with your guy.

“Still got a race to do hun.” He reminded you, kissing his teeth.

“Oh I know, but let’s not think about that right now. I was talking about you getting behind the wheel of a Mclaren MP4 for a little while instead.” You smirk, leaning up towards his now smiling face.

“A proper race car.” He says, his smile threatening to split his face.

This is what you wanted, you wanted him to revel in the joy, revel in the honor of driving such an incredible car. Enjoy being behind the wheel of a Championship winning car once again even if it was only for a few laps and unlike the cars he was used to winning in. 

“A legacy meant for a hometown hero to carry on, and a race car meant for a World Champion. It’s been waiting for another great to stretch its legs and they found just the right Brazilian for the job.” You whispered to him, your faces incredibly close now. 

“If you keep talking like that I might end up locking you in here.” His voice is teasing as he wraps his arms around you.

“As much as I desperately want to say yes to that, I do believe you have something to get ready for.” You sigh, pulling back and patting his chest.

“I do, but we’ll use it for motivation later, I might need it.” He says as he peels himself off of you, his voice is playful but you both know he’s dead serious.

“The second we leave this track, I am all yours for as long as you want or need.” You promise, watching as he starts to change and prepare to go meet the Mclaren mechanics that have been looking after the historical car.

You sit in a comfortable peace for a while, occasionally exchanging words about little things that don’t really matter that much, just enjoying being in his space. You know that when the day is over you will have a full debrief, all of the frustration that he’s setting aside for this moment will inevitably bubble up once he’s in the safe privacy of the two of you alone, but for now you entertain his small talk and let him start to get excited about his incredible moment as he gets himself ready. When he’s ready he turns to  you with childlike excitement bubbling at the surface and you can feel your heart swell.

“This is a good look for you.” You tell him, eyeing the all white suit with the Brazilian flag at his waist.

“I’m still mad I can’t wear his actual helmet.” Lewis grumbles with a shake of his head.

“I hate to say, I actually agree with them on that one babe, let’s keep your head safe, yeah?” You laugh.

“I know I know, don’t think it would even fit on my head anyway.” He playfully groans, making his way over to you.

“I like the special helmet for this weekend though, it’s still a tribute.” You remind him, knowing he’s half joking but wanting him to be fully confident when he steps out.

He nods, taking a moment to admire you before he’s pulling you close and landing his lips on yours in a kiss that takes you by surprise with its force.

“Thank you, for everything,” He starts when he finally pulls away, his forehead resting on yours, “for reminding me that I’m allowed to revel in this, for keeping me grounded,for letting me be excited, just for everything.”

“Hey, that’s why I’m here. You do the exact same for me when I need it, it’s why we work so well.” You say quietly, your hand coming to stroke his beard gently.

“If I don’t get to see you before I get in the car, just know your words from last night are gonna be in my head the entire time. I’m gonna let myself enjoy this, let myself feel this. Nothing else about today matters other than honouring and paying tribute to my childhood hero and getting to live out my childhood dreams of driving the car that made me want to start racing around the circuit that introduced me to another home.” His voice holds excitement and certainty as he speaks that makes you want to cry and kiss him all at once.

You’ve never been quite so proud of the man in front of you. Yes, you’ve cheered for him since the beginning, before you even met him. You’ve wept when he’s broken records and won each and every championship. Yet nothing quite compares to seeing this amazing moment and knowing just how much he deserves it, knowing that there is no one better to hold this responsibility and honor. There is no one like Aryton Senna and truly there never will be, and there is no one like Lewis Hamilton and there truly never will be. 

“You know you’re doing for millions what he did for you, right?” You whisper, hoping he knows just the level of inspiration he gives to everyone watching him, young and old alike.

“I know, and it’s amazing to be able to do that.” He says, his smile warm.

You don’t say another word, giving him a long kiss, feeling connected to him in a way you both need in the moment, albeit for much different reasons. You are pouring every ounce of pride and amazement into the kiss, hoping he can feel it, while he is absorbing the love and reassurance that comes with your touch, letting himself feel his greatness and humble himself all at once. Finally there is a knock at the door, signalling that he really needs to get going, causing you to part from each other reluctantly. 

“Okay, I gotta go do the most amazing thing of my entire career.” He says with a smile, “Be here when I get back?”

“I can’t promise I won’t be sobbing out near the pit wall but I will definitely find you, promise.” You laugh, giving him one last kiss before he grabs his helmet and makes his way over to the media garage where the incredible car is being stored for him.

It takes you a little while to get out to the pit lane that is already lined with people. You wish you could be closer, see the car up close but this isn’t your moment. Today is for Senna's family and the people of Brazil, you are just lucky enough to be able to witness the incredible moment in person.You know Lewis is somewhere down the pitlane, most likely trying to stay calm as he geeks out over the amazing machine he is about to drive. He has driven one of Senna’s cars before, but not in a long time, and not in this setting, not with this honor and audience. You also know that no matter how many times he may have had the privilege of being around and driving incredible race cars, he is a racing driver through and through and the excitement will never change. While you’re standing there smiling to yourself, thinking about how excited Lewis must be and taking in the incredible aura of the crowd, you catch sight of the live stream playing on the jumbotron. There he is, getting in his idols car, you watch as he takes a moment to really take it in just before he’s being strapped in. It’s funny to you to see him surrounded by Mclaren mechanics again, to see the goodyear tires you remember from your first ever F1 races. Then they’re rolling him out and the crowd gets their first in person glimpse of the car over the wall and the cheers echo through your soul. It takes a few more minutes for them to be ready and the atmosphere is building with anticipation but then they start the engine. The first rumble sends a chill down your spine and silences the track. The sound of the V10 roaring to life evoked a visceral feeling from you, bringing back memories of why you fell in love with the sport as a child in the first place and you could only imagine what the emotions coursing through Lewis in that moment were. You saw him shake his head in disbelief as he revved the engine and you could just picture the boyish grin that would be covering his face at that moment. Then it cut, he stalled, and you heard the boos and wanted to run and protect him. You knew it wasn’t his fault, and realistically you knew the crowd wasn’t booing him, they were booing the disruption of the soundtrack that was the incredible V10 engine and you also knew Lewis was smart enough to know that as well. The mechanics were quick, getting the engine back up rapidly and soon enough Lewis was headed out toward the track. He took a moment, the mechanics meeting him again and you prayed that everything would go to plan, this moment was too important to everyone for anything not to be perfect. And then you saw him, speeding past you in Senna’s Mclaren down the pit straight. The spray of water adding to the moment as he waved at the fans who were evidently stunned at the spectacle in front of them. Their recently adopted hero bringing them back to a moment with their lifelong hero. You couldn’t hold back your tears as you watched him complete lap after flawless lap, handling the car like he’d been driving it for years. You could only imagine what the emotions flowing through his body must be, so incredibly grateful to be able to witness the moment. When you saw him stop to grab the flag your tears picked up, watching the beauty of the moment as he completed his dream of waving his new country's flag as he drove his idol's car with no hands around the wet track. Everything about the moment was pure poetry. 

By the time he parked the car on the grid, you were sure there wasn’t a dry eye in the entirety of Sao Paulo. You watched through teary eyes as Viviane went and spoke to him as he collected himself in the cockpit. You could see her thanking him and you knew that he was thanking her just as profusely. You tried to dry your eyes as you watched them pose with Senna's helmet while Lewis sat in the car, but they came back quickly. You finally managed to pull yourself together just a little bit as you watched him pose with flag but the second he knelt down next to the car as if to thank it for everything it had done for him and his idol, you lost it again, You couldn’t help but laugh at yourself just a bit, your emotions were definitely getting the best of you. You could see the emotion on Lewis’ face as he too pulled himself together to get ready for the interview. He was beaming, eternally grateful for the opportunity. You listened as he described his love for Brazil and the love he has received from the fans, you could hear the emotion thick in his voice the entire time, even through the incredible joy that was paired with it. You knew he meant it when he said it was the ‘honor of his career’ and you were certain this would be a moment that neither of you ever forgot. Everything about it was purely beautiful, seeing everyone pause for something so meaningful, you weren’t sure you had ever seen the sport so at one in your entire life.

When you saw him finally making his way to the pit lane you scramble to try to pull yourself together, hoping to be somewhat emotionally sound when you went to meet him in his drivers room, but he found you first, a strong arm slinking around your waist before you were being crushed in a tight hug. When he finally let you go you took a moment to take him in. The emotions were written all over his face, the weight of the profound moment sinking in for him as the joy was palpable. He took in your state, his eyes softening, knowing that every emotion on your face came from your love for him and your love for the sport.

“C’mon, lets go be alone for a second.” He said softly, guiding you toward the garage.

When you were safely inside his drivers room you turned to him, your words dying on your tongue as they didn’t feel enough to express just how proud of him you were. Instead you opted to grasp his face in your hands and kiss him, hard, tears falling down your cheeks as you did. When you finally parted from him you saw that the smile had never left his face.

“I think you’re more emotional about that entire thing than I am.” He teased you softly, wiping a stray tear from your cheek.

“Stop it,” You laughed, swatting at him pathetically, “I’m just so proud of you and so happy for you. I can only imagine what that meant to you.”

“Yeah, it was surreal, never had so many emotions at once. It felt incredible, it truly felt like a dream come true.” He said as he placed his hands on your waist, pulling you toward him.

“I was right you know, there was no one more suited for that than you.” You tell him softly.

“You were absolutely right, that felt perfect, Viviane was so kind and so grateful, I will never forget this.” He sighs and you can tell the weight of the weekend is leaving his body with it.

“Nothing else that happens this weekend matters, okay? This was what it was all for.” You assure him, placing your hand on the side of his neck.

“Thank you, you’re right, that was truly the only reason I am here this weekend, none of the rest matters in the slightest.” His eyes are soft as he melts into your touch.

“I know you said you wanted to be Senna or Superman but I think you may have achieved both just now. You are more than a hero to just about everyone here, me included.” You tell him softly, staring deep into his eyes as you do.

“That means a lot, I felt it while I was out there. It was a crazy feeling, getting to be that for everyone.” He says earnestly.

“You do it way more frequently than you think, even if you haven’t been feeling it lately.” You assure him, wanting him to know just how much you mean it.

He doesn’t respond but you can tell he’s just taking it in as he lets out a breath and traces circles on your hip. He’s a confident man, cocky at times, but even the strongest of soldiers can be weak in the face of defeat.

“I know you are a natural born competitor, but let's make a deal that your only objective today is just to come back to me in one piece. That’s all I ask of you.” You say after a moment, listening to the rain pickup against the roof.

“I will absolutely come back to you, but I ain’t making any promise about not also trying to pull that tractor as far forward as I can.” He laughs, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Okay fair enough, just need you in tiptop shape to be my superman when we get back to the hotel tonight.” You smirk, pinching his bicep.

“Well when you put it like that why don’t we just leave on a high note and head back right now?” He asks playfully, pulling you closer to him.

“I’m down, but you’ve gotta go keep being both Senna and Superman.” You giggle.

“Okay, I’ll do my best, but I’m still holding you to that even if this race is shit.” He says, pinching your bum.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part twenty

authors note: this is more on the boring/filler side, and i apologize for that, but it covers some necessary things and hints at other things. plus, the one after this is wrestlemania and then after that is the infamous disney trip, and those def won't be boring/fillers. 👀

also, what do you ya'll think reader is having? i'm also open to name suggestions cause i hate naming characters lmao

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: fluff, language, angst, and suggestive themes

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

faceclaims

words: 6.6k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @yolobloggers @wanderingreigns @southerngirl41 @msbigredmachine @romanreignsbae

Life is one crazy ass ride.

You’ve always known this, but the past few months have really shown you just how insane things can be. It’s been up, it’s been down, it’s been just a fucking rollercoaster of events and emotions, but somehow, things always seen to work out in your favor.

You expected, maybe more so hoped, that your Live with Jadah would go over well. Would help people see and understand that there’s so much more to the story, so much more to you than the lies that have been fed to them by your apparently psychotic ex-best friend. That was the semi-goal.

Well, to say that goal was met is a bit of an understatement.

The Live went viral, spreading and making it to most global and some international platforms. TMZ formally issued an apology to you, Joe, and Jadah, and retracted their story with Mariah, even scrubbing the interview, which Joe’s legal team believes is only to avoid getting caught up in the several lawsuits she’s been slapped with. 

So many publications have turned the tide, no longer speaking on you and your situation with an almost judgmental stance but rather just reposting the Live and letting the facts speak for themselves.

And social media…..holy shit. 

One thing you never expected was for the Live to go viral, but you especially never expected for yourself to also go viral in a different way, that is.

While the general public was initially against you, bashing you every which way to Sunday, it’s almost completely turned with the vast majority now utterly and wholly intrigued with you. They’ve dug up old headshots from when you cheered in college, clips of you either practicing or competing, and a few Snap videos you were in, again, all during your college years.

Not to mention the clips they took from the Live, primarily of you playfully twerking with Jadah. That clipped with the TikToks you did with Naomi has resulted in people making TikToks and “edits,” as Alexis explained, posting and sharing everywhere.

Apparently, the vast majority of social media finds you extremely attractive, and have even been comparing you to the infamous prison bae, Jeremy Meeks, from way back when. Minus the criminal aspects, of course.

“Look at this one! These are my favorite.” Alexis turns her phone so the group of you can see what is yet another edit of you, err, more so your ass than anything to good googly moogly by Project Pat, which apparently was already going viral on TikTok as people post videos of friends and loved ones with a nice ass. Seems you’ve been added to that group.

“I don’t get the fascination,” you admit with a shake of your hand, fingers tapping against your glass of lemonade. “Like, I’m not even famous.”

“You kinda are now,” Bianca suggests. It's a crazy suggestion, too, because in what world does someone like you, from a small ass town with virtually no major social media footprint, qualify as famous. “Not like, A-List celeb famous, but you don’t make it to the Shade Room if you’re not at least kinda famous.”

Alexis makes a sound, adding, “ya’ll whole lil situation made the March event on their calendar.”

“On their what?” Jadah is understandably confused, asking, “what the hell does that even mean?”

“Twin, I’m gonna need to make a PowerPoint for you or something.”

“Please do, and make sure to add the fancy transitions.”

“Custom slide backgrounds?”

“You know the key to my heart.”

The meeting and union of Jadah and Alexis remains to be seen as one of the worst or best things you could have ever done. They’re so damn similar it felt almost criminal to not introduce them, but with both having such strong personalities, a clash could be one of the titans. So far, however, they’re vibing just as well as you and Jadah have. Hence why all of these ladies are sitting around your coffee table, various drinks in hand, most alcoholic, except for yours of course. 

Which reminds you…

“Oh shit,” you announce, four sets of eyes falling on you as you realize you haven’t shared the news with the majority of them, ironically, Jadah being the only one to know. “I haven’t had a chance to ask.”

You decide to be dramatic as hell, pausing as Alexis is the first to say, impatiently, “ask what, hoe?”

Another pause followed by an intentional rub of your belly as you nonchalantly ask, “which one of ya’ll wants to be in charge of planning the baby shower?”

You’re met with instant screams and squeals of enjoyment, a big smile falling on your face as you’re hit with all of the questions and exclamations. 

“I knew it! I knew it was just a matter of time before BDJ struck again!”

“Y/N! Oh my goodness, congratulations!”

“No freaking way! That’s amazing!”

“I’m gonna act like I didn’t already know, so congratulations, great value sister wife!”

Alexis and Jadah’s statements make you laugh while Bianca and Kaylah’s cause your heart to swell. You then try to quiet them down, “thank you, guys. We’re excited. But, we haven’t told Callie yet, so please keep it to yourselves.”

“Of course.” Kaylah excitedly asks, “how far along are you?”

“Almost three months,” you answer, proudly. Although entirely unexpected, or maybe not depending on how you look at it, you’ve found your excitement at this pregnancy growing every single day. Excitement at having another child, giving Callie the chance to be a big sister, to give Joe the opportunity to experience this pregnancy with you from conception to birth and beyond. He deserves it, especially now that you know what he went through with Jadah.

“Wait. Damn. This means we can’t have a hot girl summer until next year!” Alexis is pouting as she downs the rest of her drink before reaching for the bottle to get a refill. “You couldn’t let that nigga shoot up the club later this fall instead.”

Kaylah’s nose turns up as she also takes a sip of her moscato but not before muttering, “didn’t need that visual.”

Rolling your eyes, you point out, “Alexis, we are too damn old to be having a hot girl summer. Half of us are moms and/or in relationships except your non-committal ass.”

Non-committal has nothing to do with the topic that floats to the front of your mind, but having a room full of women to consult with seems like a perfect opportunity to discuss something that’s still bothering you to some extent.

“Let me ask ya’ll something.” You take a sip of your sparkling apple cider and get to explaining. “So, every time I try to talk to Joe about planning for when the baby gets here, like having my mom or his mom come stay with us a bit to help out when he’s on the road, he either ignores me, changes the subject, or just pacifies me. And I’m trying really hard not to cuss him out, but between baby emotions and me being me, it’s hard.”

Being perceptive is always something you’ve prided yourself on, valued as one of your attributes, so it’s hard not to miss when Kaylah, Alexis, and even Jadah all look suddenly uncomfortable with your question, like they also want to change the subject.

Bianca is the first and only to speak out.

“Yeah, that’s kind of weird.” Her agreement is the quintessential example of validation you were needing for this situation. “I get you’re barely three months, but why not start with the plans now? The sooner the better since it seems like his schedule is pretty hectic.”

Throwing your hands up in the air, you echo her sentiments. “Exactly! And one thing to know about me, which I know he has to know about me is that I like to plan. I hate surprises. We need to start figuring out this shit now.”

“I’d definitely talk to him about it, cause men can be very go with the flow, but this isn’t one of those things that I think should be go with the flow.”

“I feel like you should maybe just wait it out and see where the cards fall.” Kaylah’s suggestion is casual, but her eye contact is sparse, and you actually don’t know what to make of that. 

Jadah contributes to the conversation with agreement to Kaylah’s point. “I agree. Trust your man, whore.”

“But—” And as if present and overhearing said conversation, your phone starts to ring, the man himself filling up your lock screen. “Speaking of the devil…..” You lift and show your phone to the group. “I gotta take this ya’ll.”

“Well, duh.” Alexis says like it’s a no brainer. “BDJ probably won’t stop calling until you pick up anyway.”

Laughing, you untangle your legs and climb off the sofa at the same time you answer his FaceTime, quickly telling him, “hold on.”

“I’ll be back,” you inform, but the last thing you hear is Bianca making the awful mistake of asking Alexis what “BDJ” stands for. Alexis and Jadah start to laugh. 

Obviously, Jadah also knows what’s up. 

Locking the door behind you, you sit down on the patio set that was delivered only two days prior and situate your phone on the accompanying table. Legs crossed, you give him the go, “okay, i’m good now. Just wanted some privacy.”

He doesn’t hesitate to slide right into protective papa bear mode. “How you feeling?”

“Alright.” Your hand unintentionally lands on your stomach as you explain, “had some nausea this morning, but that’s not out of the norm. I had pretty bad morning sickness when I was pregnant with Callie the first few months.”

You can tell he’s not entirely satisfied with this answer, leaning more on the concerned and conservative side. “When’s your next checkup?”

“April 8th. I made sure to schedule it so you can be there.” Joe indicated he wanted the first Monday after WrestleMania to be a day of rest for you and Callie, and it can still be, but you also couldn’t miss the opportunity for him to be a part of your first official well-baby visit. Especially with this being the first time you’ll be able to hear the baby’s heartbeat. 

That must especially be special for him.

“I promise I’m okay, Joe.” Out of respect for him and his emotional state at such an important time in his life, you haven’t told him everything Jadah shared with you. Haven’t made him aware of your knowledge regarding his loss. You’re not sure if you ever will, to be honest. If he wishes to discuss that with you, you’ll always be there to listen and support. But, there’s zero desire to dig up painful memories and trigger this man. 

That doesn’t, however, mean you can’t reassure him when you can see there’s a level of anxiety and apprehension. 

“If I wasn’t, you and Dr. Young would be the first to know.” It’s a promise. You would never do anything to risk unnecessary complications with this pregnancy. “How do you feel? You look tired.”

He’s looked as such for the past couple weeks, and you feel slightly bad, knowing the whole Mariah ordeal must have taken a toll on him. Not to mention his intense training and preparation for WrestleMania.

Of course, he just shrugs, playing it off. “I’m good.” You make a knowing sound. “What?”

“Seriously, Joe. This is me. I know you like the back of my hand. You’re exhausted. It’s okay to admit as such.”

“I’m fine, Y/N. I promise.”

Joe is every bit stubborn as he is caring. He won’t agree with you, but that doesn’t make what you’re saying any less true.

“Whatever, just know I’m giving you a well deserved massage when we come to see you next week.” Coyly, you imply with a shrug of your shoulder. “And maybe a lil’ more depending on the layout of your place and if we can get some privacy from your lil’ twin.”

“Naw, that lil more is happening no matter what, even if I have to fuck you in the rental.”

His tone of surety makes you laugh as you think about something. “I don’t think we’ve ever fucked in a car before.” The list of places this man has been balls deep in you is endless, but a vehicle and plane seem to have not made the list. Yet. “Might have to change that.”

He also laughs. “Wherever you want it, baby, you just gotta tell me when and how.” Just more and more reasons to love this man to infinity and beyond. He matches your freak so well.

Joe asks about Callie, of course, and you let him know she’s in seven heaven playing with her cousin in her new room that’s gradually filling up even though she still doesn’t even have all of her stuff from back in your apartment. It also goes without saying that you remind him she’s absolutely thrilled to see him soon, the same as you, which is the same as him. Reunions between the three of you are just all around enjoyable.

Naturally, Joe apologizes, for no good reason, at not being able to come with you as you take Callie back to your hometown for your final apartment walkthrough and to close all other matters, officially making your move to Florida complete. It’s a bit of a bittersweet thing, leaving the place you grew up and have so many memories in. However, what’s ahead of you is so much better than what’s behind you. 

And while you would love Joe to be able to come too, it’s also not necessary.

Especially when he finds out what else is on your agenda before you say goodbye for good. 

Realizing your time with him could be cut at any moment, you decide it’s now or never to break the news to him. “There’s something I need to tell you, and I know right off the bat, you’re not going to be in agreement, but I need you to just hear me out.”

He’s hesitant and already skeptical but nods. “I’m listening.”

A deep breath followed by a quick prayer to the big man that Joe will at least try to be open to this plan. “I’m gonna go see my dad while I’m there.”

This is something you’ve really been thinking about, on and off, since the Christmas ordeal. It just hasn’t been such a major priority given all the other fires you’ve been having to put out. Alexis was right when she said the dynamic with your dad has a lot to do with the situation with Joe and not telling him about Callie.

And you being able to acknowledge that has made you realize you’ve been holding onto a lot of pain and anger towards that man. More pain than anything. And it’s time to let it go. The same way you’re leaving that town for good, albeit bittersweet, you need to drop the baggage of hurt at the door before the curtain closes permanently.

In this case, that means sitting in front of the man who is your biological father and nothing more, speaking your peace, and closing that chapter.

For good. 

To some extent, you expected, maybe more so hoped, for Joe to be more receptive. 

It was wishful thinking, at best.

Immediately, he protests, face turned up in a scowl that reminds you of Callie when she’s in one of her moods. “Like hell you—”

Closing your eyes, you do your best to keep your voice leveled. “Hear me out, please.”

“Y/N, do you not remember the last time you saw that man?” Most definitely do you remember. That was definitely a low moment for you. “You were a fucking wreck. I’m not seeing you go through that again, especially with you being pregnant.”

“Do you really think if I had even an inkling it wouldn’t be safe for our baby I’d be doing it? Come on, Joe. You know me. I would never put either of our children in harm's way.” And you know he knows this, knows this very well, but you can also understand his anxiety from a couple different angles. “Before when I saw him, I was still looking for his love and approval. I can admit that now.” It’s been a tough pill to swallow, going back and forth between emotion and logic, coming to grips with such an uncomfortable truth. “I don’t need that anymore. I don’t even want it. I have you. I have Callie. My mom. Our friends. Even this new baby, but if I’m leaving that town for good, I need to leave all of the hurt it brought me there too. That includes making my peace with him.”

When he still doesn't say anything, you continue to plead your case.

“I need to do this, Joe. I’m not asking you to understand.” You’re not quite sure he could. This is one of those things that unless you’ve lived it, lived with a neglectful, uninvolved parent, you just couldn’t get it. “I’m just asking you to trust me.”

He’s quiet for a few minutes, and you already know it’s because he’s sitting on your words, doing his best to meet you where you are. Eventually, he says in a resigned voice, “I don’t want you going alone.”

There’s an immense amount of gratitude for his blessing, and his request is more than fair.  You also figured as such, assuring him, “I already talked with Bianca about it. She’s gonna go with me.” 

This seems to make him feel at least a little bit better. He scratches his beard. “Alright. But the minute you start feeling off—”

“I’ll cut it off. I know.” That goes without saying. You meant what you said. Nothing could make you put your baby at risk. “Thank you, Joe.”

Not wanting this to be the last topic you discuss, you switch gears a bit to something that will hopefully lessen his unease. “I also think we should tell Callie when we come to see you next week. I just told the girls today, and I���m gonna tell my mom while I’m there. Callie deserves to know.” The order of which you’ve told people about your pregnancy isn’t exactly how you would have preferred it to go. In a perfect world, it would have been Joe, Calllie, your mom, and then your close friends. But, life be lifing, so you just have to roll with it as best you can. 

Joe nods. “I agree.” You overhear a distant voice in the background before his gaze falls on you. “I gotta go, babe.”

It’s hard not to feel disappointed. “I get it.” This pregnancy has your emotions a bit on the high, sensitive end, because there’s no reason for you to feel like crying just because this man has to get back to work. You miss him like crazy, sure, but this has always been a bit of the dynamic. You get him in doses, sometimes big, sometimes small. “Can we still call you tonight? You know Callie can’t sleep unless she can tell both of us goodnight.”

It’s such a twist, a beautiful, unexpected thing. Once upon a time, it was just you she needed to see and/or speak to before she could fall asleep. But now, it’s both you and Joe, and you honestly couldn't love that more. 

Their relationship and bond is so precious to you.

And now that you understand what Joe’s been through, you can see why he’s always willing to move heaven and earth for her. She’s the little girl he’s always wanted and finally has.

“Of course.” You weren’t expecting any other answer. “I love you.”

A warm smile sets on your face. “I love you too, baby.”

You settle on a time that works best for him and end the call. Ignoring the sadness at not being able to talk to him further, you walk back in the house for a sure pick-me-up.

“Well, it’s about time,” Bianca teases, dimples nice and pronounced. “Thought we were gonna have to check on ya’ll.”

“No, she’s back too early….” Alexis, as per usual, confuses you when she asks, “ya’ll weren’t having phone sex?” She curses and then grabs her purse, digging out her wallet, slapping a wad of cash into Jadah’s expecting hand.

“Told you,” Jadah says knowingly, smirk on her pretty face as she counts the cash. “One thing I do know about Joe is he’s an all out type of man. It’s rounds or nothing.” She then looks over at you, apologizing, “hope that doesn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“It doesn’t.” It’s an honest answer. You’re old, mature, and secure enough to acknowledge and be okay with the fact your man has been with her in almost every way he’s probably been with you. Outside of the emotional connection component, which is really what matters the most to you. Sex would just be sex if you didn’t love him as much as you do. If he didn’t love you as much as he does. That’s what makes it so explosive. 

“Well, it bothers me!”  Kaylah looks so disgusted, and you can’t blame her. “Joe is literally like my brother!” 

Bianca cosigns with a shake of her head. “And it bothers me because Y/N literally is my sister.”

“That’s so wild, so ya’ll are half sisters, right?” Jadah asks, pointing between the two of you as you move back onto the sofa. “Same mom or…..”

“No, same dad, but we don’t claim him.”

Jadah makes an ‘O’ with her mouth as Alexis leans over to whisper something in her ear. “Got it. Daddy issues. Ya’ll should just jump him then.”

“That’s what I said! Stomp his ole’ mean ass.”

Yeah…..putting Alexis and Jadah together may have created a new kind of threat to society.

“Anyway.” Refocusing them is really the best and only option. “As we were discussing, ya’ll think I should bring it up to Joe when we fly there next week?” You then remember the pact mentality and aim your question toward Bianca. “Let me just ask you, cause you seem to be the only one who gets where I’m coming from.”

At that, Bianca opens and closes her mouth. “Oh. That. I…..I think you should just leave it alone. I’m sure Joe has his reasons.”

Now it’s your turn to look shocked. “What? That’s not what you said literally not even 10 minutes ago.”

Bianca switching up on you definitely wasn’t in the cards, especially since she was providing you all the affirmation and validation you were seeking in your dilemma. 

She looks off, almost in a guilty, sheepish way. “I changed my mind….”

“What did ya’ll say to her?” It’s directed toward Alexis and and even Jadah, because Kaylah doesn’t seem like the type to try to sway people one way or the other. “Can’t leave ya’ll asses alone for two minutes.”

“I don’t like your tone, Mama Mia. Watch it.” Alexis warns, and you can only roll your eyes. “What you need to be focused on is what you’re gonna wear to the Hall of Fame and WrestleMania.”

Kaylah gasps, also remembering. “Shit, I completely forgot about that.”

Your eyes land on her with premature excitement. “You’re going to the awards too?” She nods and you let out a big sigh of relief. “Oh thank god, I was kinda nervous. I’m sure Trinity is going too, but the more the merrier, I feel like I’m gonna be so out of place there or everyone’s going to hate me.”

“Girl, like Joe is going to let that happen.” Jadah is, surprisingly, the first one to jump to calm your nerves. “Him taking you in and of itself is such a ‘fuck you’ move. He really said ya’ll not about to bully the woman I love and think I’m finna just keep her on the backburner.”

“I agree.” Kaylah chimes, providing additional and useful context. “The internet wrestling community is a cesspool, and they’ll always find some reason to complain and bitch, but Joe has never been about that. He’s gonna have you on his arm regardless of who has something to say about it.” 

“Ummmm, why are we acting like majority of the internet isn’t all on Y/N’s dick now that ya’ll cleared up the air?” Alexis lifts her phone, adding, “I literally can’t get on TikTok or Twitter without seeing edits and photos of Y/N that the internet has dug up. They can’t get enough of her.”

“Her ass, specifically,” Jadah adds, and you shake your head. 

“I think what they’re trying to say is that maybe you should redirect your focus on fashion and hair choices vs public perception, because it seems to be in your favor currently.” Bianca’s advice is wise and on time. It also is very much giving off teacher vibes, just another thing you two can connect on.  

You’re really happy you asked her to come visit you. 

That you gave her a chance.

It’s proving to be a really good decision.

“Well, I’m gonna have my mom do my silk press while I’m there, so there’s that.” Typically, you avoid heat like the plague, sucking up the pain in the ass wash days to keep your curls hydrated and thriving. However, you’re okay with every now and then sitting in that damn chair for what feels like, and is, hours for these special occasions. And attending the Hall of Fame awards as well as WrestleMania definitely constitutes a special moment. “As far as fashion…..I have no idea. I don’t really have a lot of fancy clothes, and the ones I do have are before Callie and even now with the weight I’ve gained from this pregnancy already, I don’t know if I can still wear them.”

“Well then it’s obvious what we need to do.” Alexis says with a ‘duh’ tone. “We need to go find you some dresses! Like, today.”

“I probably do need to pick up something too.” Kaylah says with a heavy sigh. “I think Josh said something about wearing red.”

“Of course you have to wear red. That’s Bloodline colors.” 

You chuckle at Bianca’s enthusiasm. It’s kinda cool that she’s also into wrestling. You’re so tempted to ask Joe if he can get tickets for her, Darius, and Taylor, but you also don’t want to do too much. It already means a lot to you that he got tickets for your mom and Alexis. 

“I hate to pull the girls from their playing. They must be having a blast considering not one has come down in like over an hour.” It’s true. Not to mention you can also occasionally hear the chorus of giggles and shouting indicating just how great a time they’re having.

“I can watch them for ya’ll.”Jadah’s suggestion causes all sets of eyes to land on her. She rolls her eyes. “You all go get the shopping done, and I’ll stay here with the kids.”

“Jadah, you don’t have to—”

“I don’t mind. I’m not really that big on shopping anyway.” Finally. A difference between her and Alexis. “Plus, I have some client stuff I can get caught up with.”

You’re still reluctant, offering her another out. “If you’re sure….”

“Y/N, I would hope by now you’ve figured out I’m too blunt to lie. I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to.” Jadah shrugs, directing her next statement to Kaylah and Bianca. “If you’re also good with it too, of course.”

Bianca and Kaylah echo agreement with you, hence it being decided.

With a chuckle, you announce, “I guess we’re going shopping.”

———-

Things have been hard since you first landed back in your hometown.

Saying goodbye to your students was hard. 

Saying goodbye to friends in town has been hard. 

Bidding farewell to the apartment you first brought your sweet little girl home to after she was born was very hard.

Visiting your grandma’s grave one last time for who knows how long…..that’ll be brutal.

But this….confronting your father for the last time…

To say you’re a bit on the anxious side is putting it nicely. 

This was always going to be on the nerve inducing side for a variety of good and valid reasons. It’s just getting to the moment where it happens, where you sit in the parking lot of the restaurant he agreed to meet “you” at is just bringing out some indecision you’re certain comes from a place of anxiety.

Finally stepping out of the car, you and Bianca reach the door of the restaurant when she turns to you, mouth turned into a bit of a frown as she reminds, “you sure you want to do this?”

“It’s not about what I want to do. It’s about what I need to do, Bianca.” It’s the truth. This isn’t something you’ve been dying to have happen your entire life, but for the sake of your healing, it’s what needs to happen. “But, if you feel uncomfortable, I totally get—”

“Not at all.” She reaches for your hand. “You’ve got this.”

A deep breath followed by a head nod as you accept her hand. She gives you a little squeeze and opens the door, leading the way figuratively and literally. As expected, he’s already there and waiting, sitting near the back of the restaurant. You’re not surprised a man like him is right on time. He seems like the punctual bastard type.

And Bianca has reiterated as such before. 

Together, you walk hand in hand towards him. Your eyes never leave him, watching as he lights up with a genuine smile at seeing Bianca, but that smile almost instantly drops when he sets his gaze on you.

Expected. 

Wholly expected.

Immediately, his nose is turned up in visible disgust, primarily directed toward you. “Bianca, what is the meaning of this?”

“What?” Her voice is full of nonchalance as is the expression on her face. “I told you your daughter wanted to speak with you.”

He just didn’t know which daughter.

There’s no denying or misunderstanding his anger at the subterfuge. He shoots up from the table. “I’m not putting up with—”

Bianca is quick with it, assertively informing him, “if you want even a chance of seeing Taylor again, you’re gonna sit right back down and hear her out.” It means the world to you that not only has Bianca agreed to be here with you today, but it’s the fact that she’s willing to be so loyal to you.

Like a sister.

Because she is your sister. 

He scoffs almost immediately. “Using my grandchild to blackmail me? That’s low, Bianca. Your mother and I raised you better than that.”

She crosses her arms and matches his energy. “You are the last person that needs to be talking about raising anyone.” She then looks at you, placing a comforting hand on your arm. “I’ll be right over there if you need me, okay?”

Nodding, she gives you one last supportive squeeze and ignores her father to walk over and slide into a booth across the room. 

Left alone, you watch him begrudgingly sit down so he’s across from you, same set of brown eyes locking. It kills you how much of yourself you can see in him, starting with the same set of eyes. You just have to remind yourself that that’s where the similarities end. 

“This won’t take long, which I’m sure you’ll be happy to hear.” He doesn’t agree nor disagree, not that it makes much of a difference to you. At all. “I’m moving from this town. Tomorrow’s the day I hand over my keys, and I’ll officially be living in Florida full time. Not that you care, because we both know you never have and never will give a flying fuck about me.”

“Is there a point to this?” The edge in his voice, maybe even a couple months ago, might have killed you. Stolen your joy. Now, it does nothing. He no longer has that power over you, because you’ve taken that power back. 

And it feels so damn good.

“I did it, you know.” Without giving him a chance, if he even would, to respond, you continue. “I made something of myself. I’m successful. I have a career. I found love all without you ever doing a goddamn thing for me.”

For a second, you swear you see a different emotion flash in his familiar irises, but it’s gone almost instantly, replaced with that permanent disdain you refuse to allow sway you from your goal.

“I have a man who loves me in every single healthy way that exists, who loves our daughter more than there are words in all the languages put together.” Emotion chokes you up, but you manage to stick with the mental points you made for this conversation. “And you wanna know something? We conceived her when he was still married.”

Leaning forward as you lower your voice, both for privacy and emotionality. “But, I didn’t tell him. I deprived him and our little girl for the first almost five years of her life because I was so scared that he was going to be like you, that he was going to reject her and hurt her the way you hurt me.”

It’s a bit painful for you to verbalize those words, but also so damn liberating to free them from the confines of your subconscious.

To also release those shackles they had on you. 

“But, I was so so so wrong, because he is the best damn dad she could have asked for, and he was angry with me for not telling him about her. He wanted to be in her life. He wanted her. And it’s through that I finally realized something.”

Your voice cracks as you finally release your truth and acknowledge freedom from over 30 years of emotional bondage.

“I’ve finally realized after all these years that it’s not that I’m not good enough for you.” You shake your head, pointing at him with all the intention and determination you can muster up. “You’re not good enough for me. Not good enough to be my dad. Definitely not good enough to be a grandfather to my kids. Not good enough to be in my life.” There isn’t an ounce of hesitation or a stutter in your voice. “It’s not that I don’t deserve to be in your life. You don’t deserve to be in mine. You never did, and you never will.”

And never again will you seek out that love and validation from him. You don’t need it. 

You never did.

“I actually feel sorry for you, because I am an amazing, strong black woman who was raised by an even more amazing, strong black woman who was also raised by a phenomenal black woman. And my daughter….” Just thinking about Callie, her warm smile and the great big hug she gave you, before you and Bianca left her and Taylor with your mom, makes you all choked up again. “—is the kindest, sweetest, smartest kid you could ever meet. But as long as there is breath in my body, you will not know her or any other kids I bring into this world.”

That’s a promise, an oath, a swear on everything that you love and hold dear.

“After today, you are dead to me, and I truly hope you one day see all that you missed out on, but I’m not going to wait around for that. I’m going to spend the rest of my life surrounded with love and family because that’s what I deserve.” Grabbing your purse and sliding out the booth, you make eye contact with Bianca who starts to head over. “Take care, Captain Wilson.”

As soon as she’s at your side, he shoots up from the booth. “Bianca, if you leave with that girl—”

“That woman,” Bianca corrects with all the sharpness. “You mean my sister?���

His lips turn up with a hateful snarl. “This hoodrat trash is not your sister.”

You actually laugh at his words, laugh at the fact that he’s truly so pathetic and a piece of shit he couldn’t even take any of what you just said to heart. It also makes you wonder if he’s aware of all the shit that’s been happening online regarding you. Not that it makes a difference.

It’s just something else he would try to use to justify not being in your life.

Like a coward.

“No.” She lifts her chin, taking your hand. “She is my sister, but you?” Bianca shakes her head, and you can hear the emotion catch in her voice. “You’re not my father. You’re the trash.”

If he offers a visible response to her harsh words, you’ll never know because Bianca tugs on your hand, directing the both of you to turn around as she marches you out the restaurant. Once out of the vicinity, she spins you around and brings you in for a big, loving hug.

“I’m so damn proud of you.” Eyes closing, you accept and lean into her embrace. You’re also insanely proud of you. “You said what you had to say. The ball is in his court now.”

“I highly doubt he’s gonna do anything with it.” Separating, you again thank her. “I really appreciate you being here with me today. I’m not sure Joe would have been okay with me doing this, if you weren’t here.”

She smirks, head tilted to the side. “Nowhere else I’d rather be, hun.”

It’s the truth. Along with the fact that you’re not even sure you would and even could have gone through with this if not for her assistance and support. It’s crazy how the people you’ve met in recent months have become such important figures in your life and the people you thought were important are now strangers.

Life….always a wild ride, for sure.

“And speaking of Joe….” She’s understandably confused as you casually throw out, “guess who’s going to WrestleMania with her little sister?”

Bianca’s eyes are as wide as saucers. “Seriously?” Laughing, you nod. “Oh my god—” She captures you in another big hug, the two of you nearly hopping like damn teenagers. “Wait, just me or—”

“Of course not. Taylor and Darius too. I feel like he might divorce your ass if you tried to go without him.”

“You’re not entirely wrong.” Her laughter lessens as she looks at you with admiration and appreciation. “You really didn’t have to do that, Y/N.”

“It wasn’t that big a deal.” And it wasn’t. After biting the bullet and pushing aside unnecessary anxiety, you just shot Joe a text asking if there was any way Bianca and her family could attend Mania. His response was an almost instant yes. “Besides….we’re sisters.” Your eyes begin to water as you give a one shoulder shrug. “We look out for each other.”

Her smile matches the emotionality of this moment. “You’re damn right we do.” Sniffling, she wipes her eyes and then gasps. “Shit, now I need to find a dress. Does this town have any stores where I could maybe find something?”

Her question is so laughable. “Not really, sis. Let’s just wait till we fly home. I’m sure we could find you something there. Maybe the boutique where I got my dresses."

Home…..

You’re not sure if you’ve referred to Florida as home prior to this moment, but it feels so good, so right. Like it’s where you’re supposed to be. Where you were always supposed to be. 

Home with your daughter, with your man, with the baby growing inside you.

With your family.

[meaningofaeons]

Hi!! I just started reading your stuff and I really like it!! I was wondering if I could request some headcanons with the HSR boys (your choice but I would appreciate one with Jing Yuan) with a reader who is part of the Stelleron hunters and their role is to clear up any clues they may have left behind not on purpose, the boys caught them in the act and they made a break for it, but after the event the reader finds themself to be looking after the boys more (you can decide whether they know or if they find out due to a coincidence) and they confront the reader about it.

- 🌙 Anon

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ stellaron spy

⊹ character(s) - dan heng, jing yuan ⊹ word count - 1.7k ⊹ notes - gn!reader, stellaron hunter!reader, a bit of angst, fluff, mystery, intrigue, oh my!

hi 🌙 anon!!!! omy my first named anon (₌♥ᆽ♥₌) I'm so glad to hear you enjoy my writing!!! I was very tempted to add sampo to the mix here but as the stellaron hunters were not involved much with anyone in belobog I decided against it. but who knows?! maybe a p2 for this will come out! anyways, thank you for the request my lovely!!! I had fun with it! (๑✪ᆺ✪๑)

post editing katze here - I'm so sorry these read more like scenarios than hcs but all my hcs kinda do </3 I hope you enjoy nonetheless!

⊹ Dan Heng

Your assignment was simple: Clean up the Stellaron Hunters' presence in the Herta Space Station, and leave no trace of your own visit.

As a member of the highly skilled group, you were more than prepared and qualified.

And of course, Kafka and Silver Wolf saw fit to leave a mess behind for you as always.

They never did anything beyond Elio's allowance in order to guide the universe to the correct future, and it's not as if they had anything against you, but you still somehow ended up with a large workload each time.

A stray piece of Silver Wolf's code here, a bullet with Kafka's insignia on it there.

Nothing out of the ordinary, and all seemingly meaningless in the pursuit of the ideal future. Things that would be cast aside by the average person, if not missed entirely.

And yet, that's why you were here—those very "meaningless" pieces of evidence were specific items ordered by Elio that could cause the single tip of a domino should they be found and investigated. The most insignificant things could completely restructure the path you were on, and by extension, Elio's plans.

Of course, Destiny's Slave didn't tell you everything.

Specifically, he neglected to mention you literally bumping into a member of the Astral Express Crew.

On the way into a restricted section full of monsters.

Just perfect.

"Ah, I'm terribly sorry!" You were flustered, yes, but it served as a good cover considering your disguise as a researcher.

The man before you looked indifferent by nature, but something about you caught his eye, and he put his arms out to steady you.

"It's fine. Why are you heading into a restricted zone?"

"Ahh, I'm okay! Just grabbing some of my research materials! If you'll excuse me..."

He didn't seem content to leave you to do as you wished considering your disguise, but then he caught sight of the bullet you held. Kafka's bullet, signature carved into the side and all.

He put two and two together, his blue eyes widening.

"You—"

Before he could say anything further, you had vanished, hearing his footsteps chasing after you after ducking into an alcove. He came and went, and you found yourself alone again.

Well, there goes a smooth mission... He's surely off to alert security.

As the days passed, you continued your task. Of course, Kafka had given you a predictable answer when you confronted her about the run-in with the black-haired man.

"That would be Dan Heng of the Astral Express Crew. Don't worry. You were fated to meet. As I'm sure you know, your foresight on meeting him would have ruined the future."

Of course.

However, the young man intrigued you, and you eventually found yourself watching over him more and more.

He went to get lunch? You would subtly switch your disguise and be in line right behind him.

He took a walk around the station? You weren't far behind.

He entered a restricted zone to assist? You cleared out a couple of monsters ahead of him to make his job easier.

It's all for the mission, you'd justify. Just monitoring him to ensure he doesn't throw a wrench into Elio's plans.

Eventually, your little side-mission caught up to you.

"I really should just turn you in."

A pale hand had reached over your head, grabbing the information tablet above you, and you paused.

Compared to your previous meeting, you were a lot more calm. After all, as Kafka had said, you only needed trust in Elio and his future.

"Then why haven't you?"

The dark-haired man couldn't provide an answer.

"Are you here to stir up trouble again... Stellaron Hunter?"

"Just the opposite, really."

Dan Heng was perplexed, yet intrigued—two feelings he didn't experience often.

"I really should...—ugh. Never mind. For now, I won't do a thing. But I'll be keeping an eye on you."

"I will do the same for you."

"I've noticed."

"Then I'm sure you've noticed the gift I left in your pocket."

As soon as he looked down, you were gone. Still, you weren't lying—there in his pocket lay a piece of paper with your contact information... along with an alias.

Dan Heng didn't know what to feel, but a strange warmth filled his cheeks, and he ran a hand over his face.

What... just happened?

You, meanwhile, having completed your mission, met back up with Kafka in only a few hours' time.

"Your number, hm? Smooth, Y/N. I didn't think you had it in you. Should I consider this a betrayal?"

"Hush up, Kafka. You know this was bound to happen."

"Astute as always."

You had to hold back your groan along with your own reddened cheeks.

⊹ Jing Yuan

Being a Stellaron Hunter meant trusting Elio no matter what, even if it seemed to be at your own peril.

Even with his indifference towards his own and your lives in the face of the necessary future, Destiny's Slave had assured you and the rest of the Stellaron Hunters that you were not to be expended for the cause.

At least, not for a very, very long time.

So why is the General of the Xianzhou Luofu in front of you right now?

This wasn't in the plan! Only Kafka and Blade were meant to be arrested!

Your momentary panic caused you to forget the obvious—

You're not on any wanted lists, you have not been seen associating with either detained Stellaron Hunter on the Luofu, and you're posed as a completely ordinary Xianzhou Outworlder.

On top of that... Kafka had secured you a (fake) position somewhat close to the General for intel-gathering. For all intents and purposes, you were meant to be here.

But that handsome face honestly made your brain run on empty at the most crucial moment. And besides, your false position wasn't that high up!

Unless it was, and the information was withheld in case you got captured...

You wondered if Elio could laugh, and if he could, whether he was amused by your current blunder. Surely, all according to the plan of destiny.

"Goodness. I knew I had some level of charm somehow, but to think I'd evoke such a reaction."

You froze up upon General Jing Yuan moving his face even closer to yours, inspecting you carefully.

"Or perhaps you're just intimidated by me?"

Focus, Y/N, focus!

"Not at all, General," you were quick to respond, impressing even yourself at the steadiness in your voice. "I was simply stunned that the General would greet me, a mere advisor, personally."

"Well, mere advisor, I find you enthralling. Please report to work tomorrow directly to my desk. I'll have you assist me with my paperwork."

...Huh?

That's how you found yourself roped into being Jing Yuan's personal assistant.

The incident with Kafka and Blade progressed naturally, but you found yourself with more and more work.

All to keep up the cover of a simple employee trying to earn your daily wages, you supposed. Not to mention, the closeness of it all allowed you intel on Jing Yuan that you never would have acquired otherwise.

It made sense that this was Elio's plan all along, but you were still a bit bittersweet about your circumstances.

The sweet part being... Well, the General was nice to look at, and he wasn't a bad conversationalist, either.

And of course, the intel. The intel was good. You were certainly still focused on it.

When he ate, when he took walks (casual ones, he assured you when you were forced to join him, but you knew it was a guise for patrolling the Luofu), and when he trained with Yanqing, the Cloud Knight Lieutenant.

Everything went straight to Elio's ear.

The bitter part... Everything else.

Every day, you wondered if the General knew your identity and purpose. Yet he never spoke a word of it.

And his requests were getting more ridiculous by the day!

"Y/N, would you be so kind as to keep me company while I finish my paperwork?"

"That would be highly unprofessional... I must clock out for the night."

Another night, it was something else.

"Y/N, how about a game of chess?"

"We're working, General."

"Call me Jing Yuan, would you? 'General' is far too uptight."

"That would also be unprofessional!"

"Isn't it more unprofessional to deny your superior's request?"

Now you were sure of it. Elio, along with Kafka, Blade, and Silver Wolf, and every single one of the other Stellaron Hunters...

They were watching this all like a horrendous, slow-burn, romantic sitcom, and they were laughing their heads off at you running yourself ragged. That had to be it.

However, all good? things come to an end. It was only a few months in that you were called to clean up yet another Stellaron Hunter operation.

And with that, your resignation was plopped on Jing Yuan's desk in the dead of night, with you and him being the only two souls in the entirety of the Seat of Divine Foresight.

"...So, that's it?"

"I'm afraid so."

That smile of his made you want to stay, though you'd never say it aloud.

"Well, I suppose Stellarons are present in many different worlds."

Your jaw could've dropped. It was a miracle your face remained stoic.

"Do come back and visit me, though? Or better yet, desert them entirely and stay by my side?"

The tone was teasing, but the longing was still buried beneath it all.

When your face hardened, his smile softened.

"Of course not. I understand the feeling of being unable to abandon your comrades, your cause. Still, I do hope we meet again."

With a laugh at your silence, he unclasped one of the blue tassels from his uniform and put it right into your expectant hand—instinct on your part at his gesture.

"Return that to me soon. Don't make me wait too long. After all, without it, my coat is asymmetrical. Not a great look for the General of the Luofu, is it, my dear?"

"...No. I suppose it isn't."

It took you less than the space of a breath to vanish from his office, and you knew you likely wouldn't be back—not for a long time, that is—but Jing Yuan's tassel remained in your belongings nonetheless.

[nori-writes]

If They Accidentally Injured You

Cole Cassidy x Reader

Hanzo Shimada x Reader

Summary: How they’d react if they accidentally injured you on a mission.

W/C: 400+

This is kinda shit, so have fun reading LMAO. I don’t think I proof read it, might have and I don’t remember. I just felt bad for not posting for a hot minute. I’m working on some Cassidy angst too. I have no idea when it’ll be done but look out for it <3

Masterlist

Cole Cassidy

Personally, I think it’d take him a while to forgive himself.

His hand had slipped on the field and despite his typically good handle on his peacekeeper, it had slipped from his grasp and in his attempts to grab it, it shot into your heel.

Immediately after he had processed what happened he ran to you in a panic asking and making sure that you were okay.

He made sure to wrap it up before proceeding with anything.

While doing this all you could hear were countless apologies falling out of his mouth.

You had to reassure him that you were okay and that things happen sometimes.

Thankfully it had only shot you in the foot, he wouldn’t have been able to forgive himself had it shot you anywhere fatal.

While it was healing if you ever needed assistance getting around he was more than happy to aid.

Even though it only shot you in the foot he still has so much guilt.

It takes so much convincing him, weeks, months, after the fact to let him know that accidents happen and that you're okay and forgive him for it.

After a lot of convincing he drops it.

Still, everytime he sees the scar that he left a sour look comes to his face, knowing it could’ve been avoided with something as simple as a better grip.

Hanzo Shimada

He doesn’t forgive himself even after time and time of trying to convince him that you’re okay.

Poor baby’s first thought when he accidentally pierced your shoulder with his arrow was Genji. He already hurt one person close to him, he wasn’t ready for another.

As soon as he heard you let out a sound of pain from his arrow he dropped his bow and ran to you as fast as his legs could take him.

Thankfully someone else had taken out the last guy so he was safe to care for you where you were.

He asked if you were okay while telling you it was better to leave the arrow in for the time being until the two of you got back to the base where someone more qualified could tend to it.

While it’s healing he pampers you to make sure that you’re okay, always asking if you need anything.

You have to constantly tell him that you’re okay and that it was a simple mistake and that all that mattered was the fact that you were ok.

Like I said earlier, he doesn’t let it go, he doesn’t forgive himself.

He gets so upset when he sees the scar that he left with his bow.

But even so, he’s glad you’re okay.

[ceilidho]

Can I ask you for some advice? I posted a fic idea, and someone commented on it 'someone write this' with a bunch of laughing emojis (??? idea was angst??). I don't write often (at all) but I do write and I have a section in my pinned post for my writing (empty atm), and I had nothing in the tags to indicate the idea was up for grabs?? Am I wrong to think it was a really rude / weird comment to leave? I ended up deleting the comment & I was gonna block the blog but lost the name when the notif went away after deleting. It just felt weird? You're a much more experienced writer so I was wondering if you thought it was rude too?

naur I don’t often talk about the things that annoy me on here but that’s for sure one of them. “Someone should write this” like yeah man it’d be crazy if the person who made the post intended on writing it 🤪 I have blocked people for less.

I feel like writing etiquette should be, if someone posts an idea that’s a little more detailed than usual (for example, my “pool boy soap” post would NOT qualify for this because that was barely a prompt - had no outline or anything), don’t take it and don’t joke about someone else writing it unless the OP has stated they won’t write it or you ask politely in their inbox. I think there’s some grey area around what constitutes taking someone’s idea, but we all kinda know it when we see it, so just be polite and respectful. (We literally just need to go back to kindergarten rules: would it hurt your feelings if someone did that to you?)

[osarina]

Hellooo,

So, it's not really a request, just kinda? Idk, i just want to share this little idea with you and you can do with this anything you want!!

So reader and adazai are dating for a while rn and they are happy and all and dazai decides that he wants to propose reader. He has the ring and all planned out. But before he could, reader is sent to a mission and dazai be like: "okay, i'm gonna wait til she is back."

The only problem is that she isn't back in a good shape :') Something went wrong on the mission, there were stronger ppl than reader and the ada obviously didn't know abt it (let's just say that ranpo didn't know abt it too for the plot, okay? :')) and they all freak out and everything. Reader is sent to a hospital (yes, yosano's ability doesn't work on her. No i don't know why and how. It's just ✨plot amour✨)

But anyway, reader gets better and wakes up from her coma. But! She lost her memory. So when she finally wakes up and dazai is holding her hand while half asleep and the others are here too and when they notice that she is awake she just be like: "Huh??? Who are you all??"

And dazai of course heartbroken. The love of his live, his reason to live, his soon-to-be fincée doesn't remember him?? That's the end of the world. But ofc he doesn't show it that his world crumbled over, instead he tries to win over reader's heart again. And it's all fluffy through reader's recovery. Ooooo and i have this very very very cute scene in front of me.

Imagine: Dazai and reader are sitting on a rooftop, it's after some time when reader finally remembers her name, age, family, job etc (expect dazai, we love angst :p) so the basic things and there's a moment when she says that: "My mind may not remember you, but my heart could never forget."

And it's just shows that how domestic are they really that even if tragedies try to force them away from each other, their heart, their soul will always find the way back bc you only find true love once. And the right person (or people) will always came to you (i'm delulu.)

But let's not forget abt dazai and his self-blaming tendencies. My man here would be so crushed that he couldn't save his beloved. So maybe, at first, he wouldn't try to make remember their relationship. After all, if the only person he loved romentically forgets about him then that must be fate, no? A reminder that he doesn't qualified to be called human, so ofc he shouldn't enjoy such a human things as love. That he should cherish the time that you two spent together but should never reach out for you. After all, he might get his dirt on your freshly started new life. And he also wasn't sure that you would even want him with all his mistakes, inperfections and that ugly, broken soul of him.

So i think reader has to make some moves first too. Just from instinct. Bc loving him is like a second nature to her. But aftet reader defeats dazai's self-sabotaging attempts, the cutesy recovery would start <33

OH MY GOD I LOVE HIM SO MUCH. Someone should check this out bc my love for him is starting to get a little unhealthy 💀

Anywayyyy i wish you the loveliest, most beautiful day ever bc you deserve it. And again, feel free to ignore this rant, no pressure <333 i'm just so down bad for him, ughhh. I want to squeeze him so bad <33

Also, if it's not a big problem, can i be 🍄 anon? If it's taken then 🎶 anon?

Much, much love!!!

(Pls ignore the spelling and grammar mistakes, i'm running on 4 hours of sleep each day this week and english is my 2nd language)

AHHHHHHHH NONNIE UR SO IN MY BRAIN I'VE BEEN DYING TO WRITE AN AMNESIA FIC FOR DAZAI. the way i was going about it, i was thinking maybe we could do an ability user that targets reader and their ability causes reader to completely lose memory of the most important person in their life ... except this was going to be set pre-relationship but they were both sooooo clearly in love with each other but neither wanted to make the first move. so reader would come into work like usual and nothing seems wrong until she sees dazai and she's like ??? who are you and dazai is just CRUSHED and the whole fic is set around him trying to hunt down this ability user to make reader's memories come back but it's like they've vanished off the face of earth. eventually he comes back to the office when he gives up because he literally CAN'T find this ability user and then we follow reader re-falling in love w dazai and dazai self sabotaging because he's dazai

I WISH YOU THE MOST LOVELY BEAUTIFUL DAY EVER NONNIE I ADORE YOU

[in-class-daydreams]

Graduation Gripes

Pairing: Seventh Year!Sebastian Sallow x Seventh Year!Fem!Reader (no Y/N) Synopsis. You and Sebastian have just completed your N.E.W.T.s. Now is the time for you to learn if you're qualified for your dream jobs. Sebastian, an Auror, and you, and Unspeakable. The only problem is, you've gotten into your own head and suddenly, your excitement and anticipation has turned to fear. A/N: Unedited, we ball. Fluff, angst, kinda cheesy. TW: None

“Are you ready?” Sebastian sat across from you in your favorite spot on the top floor of the library. He’d grown taller in the few years since you met him. Now in his final year, blessed genetics and  Imelda’s grueling quidditch practices saw him broad-shouldered and mature-faced with a more justified air of confidence to boot. 

In front of him were five unsealed letters and you, four unsealed and three sealed, all containing a letter grade for each of your N.E.W.T.s. Today, the two of you would learn your fates.

Naturally, your studious and intelligent boyfriend met all of the Auror requirements of high marks in five exams. The two of you had painstakingly gone over the requirements in the middle of last year.

The Unspeakable requirements were even more rigorous. Seven N.E.W.T.s, at least five O’s, two may be E’s. Upon hearing the requirements, Sebastian deemed it nearly impossible, and having taken the exams, you were inclined to agree. Though, back then, he’d said, “If anyone can do it, it’s you.”

You stole a licorice spider from him and popped it in your mouth. They were still awful, but the chewing sensation was comforting. The results had already shown four O’s and one E. You could afford another E, but only one. 

You took a deep breath and slowly pried the wax seal off of Defense Against the Dark Arts. Sebastian huffed a laugh through his nose, looking completely unsurprised when you unveiled an ‘Outstanding’ mark. 

“Can’t say I’m surprised,” he said with a cheeky grin. “You know, I love watching your crush exams with your eyes closed.”

“My eyes were open,” you deadpanned and placed the letter off to the side.

Sebastian rolled his eyes and pressed a kiss to your wrist. You loved this spot in the library because of the big open window to your right, which allowed the natural sunlight to beam down during your study sessions. That, and the light did wonders for Sebastian’s handsome side profile, from his now sharp jawline and the slope of his nose.

As you admired him, you thought about what it would be like if work kept you away from him for long. You’d been attached at the hip since you first bested him at a duel, and yes, you’d been alone your entire life, now that you’d tasted life with him, the thought of letting it go was devastating. You wondered if your constant hunger for “more” would jeopardize your relationship with the person you love most.

Professor Hecat, when you met her, looked to be well into her sixties. You’d come to find out later, while you were under her tutelage as a sixth year, she was hardly out of her thirties when you first arrived at Hogwarts. When she said she was “wounded by time itself,” you thought she meant naturally, the way time comes for all people. In reality, work as an Unspeakable strained the body in all ways - magical, emotional, physical - and sped up the aging process.

Your late mentor, Fig, if you knew him as well as you thought you did, surely would have preferred you choose an easier career path and live a long, happy life. Work in that sector of the Department of Mysteries, in his mind, just wouldn’t be fulfilling enough to justify the price.

You know yourself. You need to struggle, to fight. You always have. The lightning shooting down your spine and the burning in your chest was an addicting feeling you could never let go of, as if the thrill of battle had become so familiar, it was the only state you felt truly comfortable.

As such, almost every aspect of life as an Unspeakable appealed to you.

Almost.

You never cared much about your appearance. Good looks had nothing much to do about survival and why worry about something you can’t change anyway? Sebastian always said that was one of his favorite things about you, how you never cared about looks, which you thought was ironic considering how handsome your boyfriend had become.

But considering how lovely Sebastian was, if you looked a decade older than him two years after graduation, would he want to stay with you? Sebastian was never that shallow - something you loved about him, along with just about everything else about him - but truly, a handsome and successful Auror married to an aged Unspeakable he never gets to see? Could you expect that of him?

Second to last was Herbology, which was normally a deceivingly difficult subject, but your experience brewing your own potions in fifth year put you well ahead of where you needed to be. With those two factors combined, you scored yet another ‘Outstanding.’

“You’ve basically done it!” Sebastian cried. You still had one ‘Excellent’ mark left to fall back on, and in Sebastian’s mind, you just needed to seal the deal.

“Unless I scored worse than ‘Excellent,’” you said matter-of-factly.

The last subject was Ancient Runes, and as Sebastian tutored you in this subject as well, you already had a strong feeling as to what your score was.

Sebastian stared at you intently while you ripped open the last envelope and stared at its contents. He did his best to wait patiently, but the anticipation soon got the better of him.

“Well? You’ve done it?” He said it as if he was certain of your success. If you learned anything about him in your time together, it was that if there’s one thing he’s always believed in, it was you.

Knowing that, could you really let him go?

Your house robes were hanging on the back of your chair. You slipped a hand into the pocket and produced your wand, pointing it at the letter.

“Confringo,” you whispered. The page incinerated almost immediately and you pulled back before it singed your fingers.

Sebastian’s chair screeched when he shot to his feet. “What are you doing?!”

You shook your head. “I don’t want to talk about it Sebastian.” Ditching your robe, you turned your face away and ran down the stairs back to the Slytherin dormitory.

You holed up in your dorm until evening, when Imelda came in and told you to “rein in your boyfriend, he’s insufferable without you.” A quick owl later and you were heading back into the empty library once again. With exams over, your fellow students took great pleasure in not needing to be in the library.

Sebastian met you downstairs on the first level. The familiar paper in his hand made your stomach drop. When you looked at him, ashamed, he tilted his head, insulted that you’d ever consider him incapable of fixing something so simple.

He held the paper out with one hand and flipped it, revealing the ‘Outstanding’ mark. You looked away, unable to face him.

“You did it,” he said simply.

“I did,” you agreed.

Sebastian shook his head. “This is amazing! You’ve achieved your dream, why aren’t you over the moon? We’ll both get to work with the Ministry–”

“Sebastian, we’d never get to see each other!” You looked at him desperately. “I’d never get to talk to you about work, our schedules would never line up, it would take an insane toll on my body!”

“You’ve known that this whole time. I thought you were fine with all those things?” He took a step towards you and you shrunk back. Your heart clenched from the hurt expression on his face. “I won’t force you, but you’ve wanted this for a long time now. I don’t understand what changed.”

What changed? Well, you wouldn’t have been sorted into Slytherin if you weren’t ambitious. But at the same time, Fig and Sebastian were your first real family. You spent your entire life alone and you were terrified that if you became an Unspeakable, the clandestine nature of the job would drive you and your only family apart.

“I don’t know, Seb, I don’t know if I can do this,” you said miserably.

“Darling.” Sebastian came and took you by the hands. “There’s not a thing in this world you can’t do. I know that and you know that. So give me an honest answer. What are you hesitating for?”

Your eyes felt hot. “I don’t want anything to happen to us.”

Sebastian stared at you in shock. “Why would anything happen?”

You wiped furiously at your eyes and buried your face in his chest. “I don’t know! It’s stupid, I’m just scared, Seb! We have so many plans for the future and what if we can’t do any of them because of my job?” Eyes clenched shut, you whispered, “I just don’t want to lose you.” 

You weren’t sure what exactly you expected out of him, but the deep rumble of his laughter wasn’t it. You looked up to him smiling down at you with tender love in his eyes.

“My love.” He tilted your chin up to look at him. “Plans can change.”

“But you’ve been through so much. Don’t you want someone you’ll actually be able to see on a regular basis? I might not be able to bear children if the work takes a toll on me, you could never ask about my work–”

Sebastian pressed his forehead to yours. Still holding your hands, he slowly drifted down onto one knee. He looked up at you with glassy warm brown eyes and you covered your mouth.

“I don’t know if I’ll be brave enough to say this twice, so please listen. I would kill or die for you. At the risk of incriminating myself, I’ve done or come close to both.” He reached into his pocket and produced a gold ring with swirling designs around the band. “I went back to my uncle’s house. Tore it apart to find this, and just as I figured, he had my mother’s wedding ring. It was her most prized possession and I want you to have it.”

Your eyes welled with tears and you let out a shuddering breath. “Sebastian…”

“Our careers be damned, I’d rather see you once a year than be with someone else every day. I need you to know. There’s nobody else. Just you alone. Will you marry me?”

[applejuicefruit]

I’ve seen your a juventus fan so am I so maybe can I request reader and Kylian dating but reader is a Juve fan and when it’s PSG against Juve and juve lost and they’re basically out of champions league you feel sad instead of celebrating with your boyfriend and you kinda argue about it, like he’s disappointed because he wanted for you to cheer for him but at the stadium you wore Juventus jersey and he got mad but you got mad the most because in that moment he had no respect about your team knowing how much you love Juventus please❤️❤️❤️ Angst and some fluff at the end please thank you so much ❤️❤️❤️

I’m Juventus number one fan so of course I can write about this🤭❤️

Plus I was so sad when Juve lost against PSG twice but still, I was happy for Kylian because he’s dreaming about winning the champions league sooo❤️

Anyway with everything that is going on with Juve I really need to write something about this so thank you so much for requesting this ⭐️

kylian mbappe x reader

Juventus is better than you

You were born in an italian family where football was more important than Christmas or Easter. You were only 4 when Italy won the World Cup in 2006 but you remember it like it was yesterday. Your parents were both Juventus fan and growing up they often would bring you at the stadium to see their games so it was normal for you to be a Juventus fan now. You grew up loving those black and white colors. Every birthday you asked for the same things. Whether it was a ticket to their new match or a new jersey with your favorite player, Juventus was there. It sadden you when you had to leave Torino, the city where you were born and grew up in to follow your parents in Paris but you were only 16 and you couldn’t say no. Four years after, you were 20 and still living in Paris but with a plot twist, you were dating Kylian Mbappè. You’ve met him in a restaurant when he accidentally mistaken you for a person he was waiting for. You were pretty sure he wasn’t waiting for no one and he just wanted to approach you but he had no idea how. After that accident he wanted to “apologize” for his bad scene so he asked for your number and he took you out the next day. You started dating a few weeks after, it was love at first sight. You kept your relationship private for a few months but eventually paparazzi found out and you became “famous”. You didn’t mind it, people liked you. You were kind and spontaneous, always posting funny videos with Kylian on your tiktok and also opening your youtube channel where you talked about football. Nothing bad to say, you were pretty loved by everyone.

The only thing that Kylian couldn’t change was the fact that you weren’t a PSG fan, of course you always supported him at his games but you weren’t a fan. There was only one team in your heart and that was Juventus.

He was sad at first but after meeting your parents he knew it was in your DNA and he couldn’t do much about it. Instead he became supportive and watched the games with you. Always cheering with you when they won.

But your happiness broke down when you saw that PSG and Juve were in the same tournament for qualifying in the champions league. You knew it would have been hard for your team, not only because they had to go against PSG twice but also because they were facing Benfica, another strong team.

You really were speechless.

Kylian said nothing when he saw the tournament because he didn’t want to upset you. After almost two years of relationship he knew how much you loved Juventus, probably more than him.

The first game Juventus lost. You knew it would have been a hard match but did Kylian really have to score twice? He was so happy about it that you were pretty sure he didn’t care about your feelings in that moment and it made you sad. You knew how much he wanted to win the champions league but still, your favorite team lost and you couldn’t be happy for him.

The second game was worse. Juventus lost again but this time it was over, they were out of the champions league. Of course Kylian scored in that game too but you were so sad seeing Juventus like this that you couldn’t celebrate with him. What hurt the most is that you were back in Torino, your hometown where everyone you loved was there just to see Juve losing to PSG.

You wrapped your hands around your body, holding the jersey you were wearing closer to your body, the juventus jersey that your parents got you for your birthday last year.

You let a few tears fall.

You weren’t the only one, a lot of Juve fans were sad about the non qualification in the champions league but you were more worried about the fact that somehow you would have to face Kylian.

You knew he wouldn’t stop talking about it and you had no intention of listening him talking about his goal all night long.

You saw him celebrating in the pitch and he gestured you to come down and celebrate with him and his team. Instead you left the stadium, still crying knowing he would be mad at you for letting him celebrating alone when all of his teammates had their wives and girlfriends in the pitch with them.

You wanted to go back to your old home but you knew you couldn’t so instead you drove back to the hotel waiting for Kylian to arrive. You showered and changed, laying in the couch trying to fall asleep so you wouldn’t have to face Kylian but you were too sad about that night that you couldn’t fall asleep.

You heard the door opening, sign that Kylian was back from the game.

“Why didn’t you come down when I called you?” he asked you not even greeting you

“Well hello to you” you said sitting on the bed

“I’m serious…you made me look like a fool” he said dropping his bag on the floor

“I’m sorry I wasn’t in the mood to celebrate” you said sarcastically. Was he serious?

“You could have come down and supported me…”

“Not when you beat my team, you knew it that I wouldn’t have supported you tonight so don’t act surprised” you said angrily

“Of course you wouldn’t. I knew it but still you could have shown some respect to my team” he spat back

“Oh fuck off Kylian!”

“What? You’re mad because I won? You knew someone was going to win tonight and you also knew that it wasn’t Juventus…” he said with a venomous voice

“I’m mat because you’re not showing any respect! You won? Congrats! But don’t come here and spitting it in my face! I don’t give a shit if you won!” you said back and his face changed into mad to sad but in that moment you didn’t care about him

“I thought I had a supportive girlfriend by my side…” he said looking down

“You know I always support you! But tonight? You know I couldn’t…not when we are talking about my team, my city…Kylian you asked me too much tonight…” you tried to resonate with him

“Still, you can’t change the fact that we won and your team lost, you can’t stay mad at me forever!”

“No of course I can’t change the fact that we lost but it would be nice if you wouldn’t have to spit in my face every two seconds!” you said back

“Why? Can’t you be happy for me?” he asked you and you couldn’t take it anymore

“No Kylian! I can’t! Not now, not tonight! How would you feel if you didn’t qualify? You wouldn’t be happy so neither am I!”

“But I did qualify and all I am asking you is to be happy for me!” at his point you were both screaming but you didn’t care

“You don’t understand Kylian! I’m very proud of you but still, my favorite team, the team I’ve been supporting all my life just lost…why can’t you understand that?”

“Why can’t you understand that this victory was important for me uh?” he shouted back

“I’m tired I want to sleep” you said giving up, knowing you would have kept fighting

“No we are gonna talk about it!”

“About what Kylian? You won and Juve lost stop…”

“You didn’t even congratulate with me, I’m so disappointed in you right now!”

“Okay go on, say how much of a bad girlfriend I am because I didn’t support you tonight, say how much you are disappointed or sad or mad at me, it won’t change anything…” you started crying, all you wanted was for him to understand your pain

“Yes y/n I’m very disappointed in you right now…” he spat back

“I really don’t care” you said with a blank face

“I see that”

“You know, when I had no one Juventus was there, when I had no friends because I was the weird girl who loved football at school Juventus was there, you more than anyone should understand what I feel for this team and I can’t believe your blaming me for being sad that they lost…I’m very proud of you, I am, but this will take time…” you said crying.

He didn’t reply. He was to shocked to even speak. He let you do your things because he didn’t know what to say.

He was finally understanding what this meant to you but you already laid in bed, almost falling asleep.

“Babe…” he called you once he laid in bed next to you “I didn’t mean to snap at you…please believe me”

“It’s okay. I’m sorry I screamed too…I’m so proud of you Kylian, I am”

“I know baby I know…” he kissed your forehead “next week I’m taking you to a Juventus match hoping they’ll win this time” he said and you laughed.

You fell asleep in his arms with Kylian gently massaging your arms and kissing your cheeks. You loved him and that wouldn’t change but now he knew that Juventus was more important than him.

[waywardsalt]

ive been rereading tnp and it’s bothering me so much i need to mention it here; it’s kind of insane how much the erins bend over backwards to make brambleclaw deputy, it’s kind of just nonsensical.

not even him not having an apprentice when he’s picked, though that is kind of wild, he just… there’s basically no good reason other than him being a main pov character and tigerstar’s son. literally any other thunderclan warrior who’s had an apprentice (barring maybe ashfur) would have been a better choice. thornclaw dustpelt sandstorm cloudtail brackenfur- brackenfur is one that firestar explicitly considers and the reasoning why he decides not to is so incredibly weak ‘oh i dont think he’d be right for leader’ number one what are you talking about number 2 then use him being deputy as an opportunity to help him become right for leader are you telling me firestar thinks the cat he once considered letting die in a fire is a better fit for leader than the cat he half mentored. dustpelt is clearly an experienced warrior, sandstorm is someone firestar obviously has faith in, thornclaw is experienced and i’m pretty sure you even see firestar consult him a few times (cloudtail is iffy bc thats cloudtail but he’d really be a better choice, just how he treats daisy and her kits would be an interesting justification for firestar making him second-in-command) but honestly besides the narrative jumping through hoops to act like the other very viable options are either secretly bad choices or otherwise ignore them (why is bramble the only cat we ever see jump to help firestar with stuff they just wrote everyone else to be silent or w/e) but in twilight where he arguably acts the most like de-facto deputy in leaf and squirrel’s pov he’s framed as a jackass half the book??? why would you do that if you intend to make him actual leader?? in his trial run of being kinda-not-deputy you just make him use his semi-authority to be cold and fucking mean to his friend and her buddy??? like i see him being qualified due to having experience being the travel group’s leader and whatnot, but barely anything else is done to make him realistically more qualified than anyone else- he just angsts about his ambitions and gets handed the position because starclan vouched for him for some damn reason even though by his society’s laws he should not be in that position

[xxlady-lunaxx]

Unwilling | {KokuZan}

Theme: Angst

Note: I purposefully chose to write this as angsty as I could. I'm sorry in advance-

TW: implications of suicide! Mentions of sex :> like... the word haha- Angst obv! Vague spoilers-

How I wrote this is kinda skipping around a bunch and I wrote it differntly than I used to so sorry it's kinda rushed too... 

It might not make sense if you've not finished the manga :> (more somewhere around the middle, I mean? cuz i'm vague abt details halfway through LMAO)

(part two here)

Kokushibo looked at Muzan with an inquiring look. "Muzan..?" he said tentatively. 

Muzan sighed, as if annoyed he had been called. "Yes?" He looked at Kokushibo from his perch on his chair. "What is it you want?"

"Can I, um, kiss you?" the Uppermoon asked. He wasn't sure what to say. He just wanted some sort of affection from his boyfriend who seemed to hesitant to give him any.

Muzan crossed his arms. "Kiss me? No. I'm not in the mood for wasting my time right now."

Kokushibo nodded and averted his eyes. He'd expected that. It was the same answer he got nearly every time. 

"It's too much of a bother," Muzan said, rolling his eyes. "Now, go to where Nakime is."

Kokushibo obeyed and moved to leave.

~~~

Muzan stood above all of the Uppermoons on a platform, something he'd had Nakime make specifically higher up to appear more menacing 'than he already was.'

"All of you are useless!" he said, his voice echoing in the hollow of the room. "You cannot seem to follow orders correctly! So far, no Hashira has been killed in the past, what? ten years? Pathetic. None of you have found any sort of trace of the blue spider lily, and besides that! You cannot catch a mere child. No sign of the runaway demon, no sign of any of you making progress at all! Disgusting. Have the Upperranks fallen? The Lowermoons were already horrible, but will all of you acting as such, maybe you six should be qualified as Lowermoons." He gave them a condemning look. "You're failing as Uppermoons. If you do not do something soon, if you do not prove yourselves worthy of the title I've given to you, I'm stripping all of you of your ranks."

There was a defeaning silence in the room and even Nakime knew better than to make a sound as Muzan glared down upon the Uppermoons. 

The threats were probably—hopefully—empty ones as they had been for some years now, but they were still terrifying all the same. Who knew if this would be the time he decided they were no longer just to scare them? 

He raised an eyebrow at their silence. "Very well then, off to your missions now. I hope none of you disappoint me," he said, shooting a look at Nakime.

In an instant there was a strum of an instrument and every Uppermoon found them back to where they'd been a couple minutes before. 

Kokushibo, having just had been in Muzan's office, was there again now. Muzan stood in front of him, the stern look still playing on his face.

The Uppermoon blinked then said, "Uhm, Master..."

"What is it?" Muzan snapped, irritated.

"I'm sorry that I've—we've all—not been doing enough to fullfill your wishes, I promise to work harder and I'll-" Kokushibo started.

Muzan interrupted him with an impatient look. "Does it look like I give a fuck? Apologies aren't going to change anything and promises won't either, so don't fucking act as if I'll 'forgive you' for some stupid words." He rolled his eyes and glanced up at Kokushibo. "It's your own fault for being useless and weak. Go fix it yourself than pleading forgiveness."

"But... Muza-" 

"No. Go do your missions or I'll put Douma up as Upper 1," he said, clearly a lie but also quite plainly a way to say I don't give a fuck about you right now.

Kokushibo sighed and turned away, trudging out the door.

~~~

Muzan glanced at the clock. 4am. Fuck. 

Well he wouldn't be going outside anytime soon.

He sighed. Where was Kokushibo? 

He drummed his fingers on his desk mindlessly, bored out of his mind. He sort of wanted to be with Kokushibo right now, just to... be with him. 

But there was no way he would go ask. No fucking way. 

Muzan dropped his head down onto the desk, annoyed with himself. Why'd he even care about Kokushibo?

The clocked ticked by painfully slowly and Muzan found himself pacing around.

Eventually, he got bored and went around to Nakime. 

"Nakime." he said quietly, his voice echoing in the empty room.

"Yes?" 

"Take me to one of the households I've presented myself in as a human."

"Alright." She brought her hand down to her biwa and plucked one of the strings.

Muzan blinked and found himself in front of a door. 

"Papa!!" a little girl said, running up to him and hugging him. 

He quickly changed his eyes to normal looking ones and gave her a smile. "Hello, I'm back from work," he said. "Why are you up so early? It's only 6..."

She grinned up at him. "Because I can!"

He sighed. "Alright..."

A woman came in and greeted him. "She woke up and wouldn't go back to sleep," she explained apologetically.

"Oh, alright, well, you should go off to bed," he said, looking down at the child in a disapproving way.

"Awh.. but-"

"Go to sleep! You need sleep!!" 

She huffed but nodded and ran off.

The woman laughed. "Welcome back, dear."

He nodded. "Hm... If she sleeps, do you think we could have some time alone?" he asked.

"Maybe," she said, smiling at him. "Why?"

"I thought we could maybe do something together," he said, his tone suggesting more than he said. Suppose, he thought, she could fullfill some of his want for Kokushibo. She wouldn't be the Uppermoon but she'd be something to fill in his time? 

~~~

"He went where..?" Kokushibo asked slowly, his gaze dropping from Nakime to the floor. Why would Muzan go to a human family...

Nakime sighed. "Kokushibo-sama, Muzan-sama went out with the woman from the family of humans he'd created in Asakusa." She looked down at him from her platform above. "Apologies. Should I take you there?" 

He shook his head slowly. "No, no I think... take me to his office, please?"

"Alright..."

~~~

(drama✨)

Kokushibo tapped his foot impatiently on the floor as he waited.

Finally, after a couple hours, Muzan arrived. He looked disheveled and his clothes looked unusually unkept. As he walked in, he was fixing them, when his eyes landed on Kokushibo.

"Kokushibo?" he said, confused.

At the same moment, the Uppermoon said, "Muzan. We must talk."

"What about?" Muzan didn't care about reading Kokushibo's mind at the moment. His own mind was already filled with the sounds the woman had made some time before. Honestly, he didn't like her but if it would do anything to make him feel less... clingy, then so be it. Well, it was kind of useless now since Kokushibo was back and now he wanted to just throw himself into the Uppermoon's arms...

"Are you cheating on me?" 

The demon lord blinked, pulling his mind from his thoughts. "What now?"

"Are you cheating on me," Kokushibo repeated, his voice stern but his tone almost... hurt.

"Why would you..." Kokushibo's thoughts filled Muzan's mind and he realized that he knew of the woman. "No! I'm not." 

"Are you sure of that? You never seemed to care about me, you never do anything with me, you don't let me do anything for you, and then you go out and have sex with another person! And a woman, no less!! Do I not satisfy your needs because I am a man?" Kokushibo asked irritably. 

There was silence in the room for a beat before Muzan said, "Well, of course I don't like you!! You're... boring!" What a fucking lame insult. He didn't even mean it. But of course, he wasn't about to say what he felt... that's not how it worked, right?? Anyways, who even wanted to pour out their feelings? "I don't care about all this affectionate shit you want."

It was Kokushibo's turn to process this. "So... you really don't care?"

"No!!" He was so persistant, why did he even like Muzan? 

"Then..." Kokushibo swallowed, his mind racing. Muzan didn't like him... "Then I want to break up."

"What?" Muzan looked genuinely shocked at this. "Why?"

"You literally just said you don't like me!! And you just cheated on me!" Kokushibo crossed his arms. "I'm breaking up with you." Then he turned and marched out, leaving Muzan in shock.

Why... How had this happened? Muzan leaned on his desk for support. He hadn't been cheating!! He'd just been... No, he supposed it appeared as if had been. Why hadn't he noticed...? (bc he's a dumbass)

~~~

Kokushibo flopped onto the bed he never used, feeling horrible. 

Why had he done that?

No, more so, why had Muzan cheated on him?

He... Kokushibo loved him! He'd done everything in his power to make sure Muzan was feeling alright in the relationship, feeling good. But he'd failed. And now they'd broken up. Because of Kokushibo.

Fuck.

He was a fucking idiot, what had he done wrong?? Where in their relationship had he fucked up...?

~~~

Muzan buried his head in his arms, leaning onto the desk. That didn't happen. Please let it not have happened.

But, of course it had. Of course it had.

Muzan had fucked up the whole relationship, and now, for some reason, Kokushibo had thought he never cared and then he'd fucking broken up with him!!

No fucking wonder all his relationships were fake. 

Muzan groaned. He was a shitty boyfriend. 

Not Kokushibo, Muzan was.

Kokushibo had been a wonderful one. A loveable one.

And guess who dumped that all away?

Muzan.

He lifted his head and hit it hard onto the table. Fuck.

~~~

He thought he would get used to it. The not dating Kokushibo 'it,' to be more specific. But it was hard. Kokushibo had been... everything to Muzan. And now he was nothing. 

It had been months now and yet, the only thing Muzan could think of was his boyfriend. No, his ex. Right. They weren't dating anymore.

Why couldn't he just grasp that?

~~~

A girl. A demon girl. She had conquered the sun.

Muzan should've felt happy but he really... really, he didn't. He couldn't. But he would get the fucking girl and take her blood.

Maybe if he became truly immortal he could find a way to get Kokushibo back.

~~~

Kokushibo felt useless. 

Like, he couldn't... couldn't live knowing Muzan had never liked him. He'd just been... some toy to the demon king, then? Probably.

And so he did his best to ignore him, avoid him.

He would never forgive Muzan. No, he could never. 

~~~

Perfect. The perfect solution!! 

Muzan would get the demon girl and then when all the demons could resist the sunlight... then, he would use that occasion to ask Kokushibo back. Because it would be a good time for the demons as well. 

~~~

Fuck it, the demon slayers were doing better than Muzan had expected... But, no matter. They would win. Muzan would win. He had to, otherwise how would he ask out Kokushibo?

~~~

Shit. Half of the Uppermoons were dead. Where was Kokushibo.

Muzan closed his eyes and located Kokushibo, fighting three Hashira and one demon slayer.

The Uppermoon was... struggling.

Ah... the strongest Hashira was there too.

No matter... the strongest Uppermoon was no match for him.

~~~

No. No. No, what, how?!

Kokushibo... Kokushibo had died.

How. How the fuck.

Muzan fought furiously against the Hashira that just kept coming and coming. The demon slayers, so persistent. 

Why. Why had they taken Kokushibo from him?!

~~

Fucking hell... 

Muzan saw the sun facing towards him, disintigrating him. He was dying. Fuck it, he was dying.

And then there was nothing.

He looked around. Was he still alive?

No...

He was going to hell now, no?

He was dead.

And there was Kokushibo.

"Kokushibo!" Muzan shouted, his voice echoing in this emptiness. 

Kokushibo looked at him, disdain filling his features in a second. "Muzan," he said quietly.

"Kokushibo, will you forgive me? I..." Muzan's voice trailed off.

"Forgive you?" Kokushibo laughed, a fake one, a cold, horrid sound. "Never. I will never forgive you, Muzan Kibutsuji. You ruined my life. I should've never become a demon." 

Muzan gaped at him. "What..?" 

Kokushibo gave him a disgusted look and faded away.

"No! Kokushibo! I'm sorry!" 

It was too late.

He would never be forgiven.

~~~

Muzan wasn't aware that people who went to hell were given second chances. But apparently they were.

He found himself as a child growing up. He felt sort of empty, as if missing something though.

As he grew into his teens, he started remembering more of his past. Little by little. 

He found he longed for a relationship, but whenever he dated someone he felt only remorse for something—someone—he didn't know what. Or who.

He had a girlfriend now. Again.

She was sweet and nice to him but he found that he wasn't particularily attracted to her. Sure, she was pretty and all, but... he was unsure.

"Kie!" he said, her hand clasping around his arm. "You're going to break my back!"

She laughed. "Carry me!! I'm not that heavy!"

"You aree!!" he whined.

She gave him a playfully injured look. "What?!" 

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding," he said, pulling her along the sidewalk.

Muzan stopped abruptly, almost bumping into a boy who looked to be around his age. Kie did bump into him. 

"Ow-" Muzan said, turning and stopping her from falling.

"Sorry- Oh, hello!" Kie said, smiling.

The boy nodded. "Hey."

Muzan turned back and nearly fell down. "Kokushibo?!" he said, shock filling his tone.

"You know him?" his girlfriend asked, confused.

Kokushibo nodded slowly. Then quickly shook his head. "No, nope, you must've mistakened me. My name is Michikatsu, sorry, bye!!" he said, looking almost scared. He shot a glare at Muzan then sped off in the opposite direction.

"That was odd," Kie said.

"Yeah, uhm, odd," Muzan agreed, nodding. He watched as Kokushibo ran off. Kokushibo... he could speak to him now. 

~~~

"Fuck, where the hell is he?" Michikatsu grumbled, walking down the street.

"Kokushibo." 

The voice pulled Michikatsu out of his thoughts and he looked up. Dread filled him instantly. Muzan.

"Yes?" he said quietly. There was no escape, was there? He couldn't leave as he was looking for Yoriichi.

"Kokushibo, you remember, don't you?" Muzan asked hopefully.

"I do. Why?" he said, realizing a second too late he should've pretended not to. 

"Kokushibo, I'm sorry, please!! Please can we... can we try again?" Muzan pleaded. 

"No."

"What?"

"No, no we cannot. You say you remember, then you must remember that you've cheated on me and that you don't even care," Michikatsu said, crossing his arms. 

"But... I care now!!" 

"Sure. Lies." He glared at him, anger filling his voice. "I could never care for you anyways." That was a lie too. He did care. But he didn't want to get into a one-sided relationship. Muzan was probably just doing this for show. 

"Oh." 

And that was all Muzan said because then, Yoriichi walked over.

"Michi!! I was looking for you everywhere," he whined.

Michikatsu turned around gratefully. "Yoriichi!! Finally! I was trying to find you too," he said, laughing.

Muzan blinked. Oh. Yoriichi.

Yoriichi noticed Muzan, then, and his eyes narrowed. "Michi, is he bothering you?" 

Michikatsu considered denying it but then nodded. "Yes, he's, uhm, trying to date me."

"Get away from my brother," Yoriichi snapped. "We don't need your gay ass around us." He pulled Michikatsu's arm. "Let's go."

"Yeah, let's go," Michikatsu said, half relieved and half disappointed. For what? He knew not. 

"Wait-!" Muzan tried, but the Tsugikuni's had already sped off.

An angry voice came from behind him. "Are you cheating on me?" Kie asked, crossing her arms. 

"What?" Muzan turned, desperation suddenly filling him. Those words... not again. 

"You're trying to date someone else? Are you really gay? Wow. The most bullshit I've heard in my life. You're literally dating a girl and then go off and find guy and try to date him?" Her voice grew louder with each word, fury rising in her throat. "I can't believe you!! I'm breaking up with you! I really thought I could trust you."

Muzan was speechless which Kie took as confirmation. She glared at him and then stalked off.

That...

Muzan blinked. 

Fuck.

~~~

Yoriichi was making rice and Michikatsu stood watching him, his mind elsewhere.

Should he really have gone off and done what he had done? Or should he have let Muzan have a chance... Really, he wanted to have. He wanted to hold Muzan in his arms and believe that he meant the apologies.

But he also couldn't believe them. As much as he wanted to. Which was ironic, he knew, but it was... something he truly felt. And he hated himself for it.

"Michi? You alright?" Yoriichi asked, waving a spoon in front of his face.

"Huh? Oh! Yeah, sorry, I was just thinking," Michikatsu said, smiling.

"Alright, well, the food is done!" 

Michikatsu picked up the plate that Yoriichi had made for him and sat at the table.

Had he really done the right thing? Or was he just unwilling to chance Muzan's supposed lies...?

~~~

Maybe he should've just let Kokushibo go.

Two rejections from the man he loved.

Well, fuck it.

Muzan found himself at a cliff then, not even knowing where he was. Had he walked this far? He'd been so consumed in his thoughts that...

No, maybe he'd gone here on purpose. To end himself. He clearly belonged in hell, and only in hell.

It wasn't like anyone cared.

Muzan looked down, noting how far the cliff dropped down.

Perfect. The impact would be just enough to kill him. 

He smiled at it, a sort of bitter smile.

"I tried," he whispered, leaning forward and closing his eyes.

{Word count: 2900}

WELP

i finished this with a stupid headache and rushed writing BUT IT'S OKAY I THINk

I THINK IT WAS WRITING A.L.R.I.G.H.T. (that's me trying to convince myself it's not shitty for a rushed in one hour sort of writing)

Kie is totally not Tanjiro's mother :3

[palmastrings]

This is me rambling about Obey Me but HEAR ME OUT

I can draw but...

●If anyone can or has drawn Satan's birthmark, PLEASE show me. Apparently, it's on his back, and I'm sure there are people out there more qualified to not only make him sexier than I even could but could also make his birthmark lore significant.

●i always like it when I see content of the demons using their tails/wings in dumb ways. Like Levi using his tail to trip Mammon. Or, like that one time, Belphie used his tail as a paintbrush. Too bad I can't really say the same things for the bros with wings because they said they are really inconvenient to have, so I doubt they would ever be in their demon form casually.

● yo, imagine if they had high-quality anime cut scenes for flashbacks and stuff! PREMIUM ANGST

●Military Levi is a NEED, not a want

●WE GOT FERAL MAMMON, BUT AT WHAT COST

●Demon form Mephisto when?

●God is a fairy fight me about it (jk this is just a theory I have based on little evidence)

●GIVE DIAVOLO/BROTHERS MORE DADDY ISSUES CONTENT YOU COWARDS

●King Solomon sitting on a throne would look badass

●Imagine instead of a traditional sythe Thirteen pulls out a glock because fuck them traditions. (Bonus points if it's that squid gun that Vector has in Despicable me) *I doubt it would ever happen tho but I can always dream

●I'm glad they are giving everyone more charateriation in this game. I do sometimes think how in Nightbringer we are helping them with their trama early into their stay in the Devildom but in our present they have probably been sitting on their problems for millenia and thats why they have horrible coping mechanisms and have a higher tendency for violence. (Not to say trauma inherently makes you violent, but they clearly had no ways of regulating themselves, and they crashed into a relm that was againts them from the beginning, and it just so happened that it manifested into those tendencies as such)

Sorry for the bad grammar. I'm tired asf and I was kinda just vomiting my thoughts, but it would be nice to hear your ideas, n'stuff! I'm open for discussion

[chuuyascumsock]

Helloooo

That rat reaction pic was both adorable and had me laughing my ass offf(my sense of humor is lowkey highkey kinda broken so apologies 😭)

ALSO

ME??? A MONSTERFUCKER??????HUH?? THAT SOUNDS DEPLORABLE! But youre right so anyway- (kinda actually saw a monsterfucker bingo and did it{yknow just for funsies and shi} and like i ticked off 10 of the 24 boxes? i mean i think thats enough to qualify??? Right??)

okie soo umm i kinda waited too long to type out the thoughts and they um *disssipated* so immm kinda gonna string together the crumbs i still remember🥲

(Also like to clarify when i say werewolf,i kinda mean like the something between like that one halloween official art and atsushi when he’s in his weretiger form?)

Imagine werewolf chuuya who just cant keep his hands off you when he’s in heat,he just NEEDS you,CARNALLY

While you’re cooking dinner he’ll come up behind you and wrap his arms around you,nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck,lightly nibbling on your skin and just slightly grinding his crotch into your ass.

After a while you can feel his hard on and how hes desperately trying to hold himself back.

so you do the only sensible thing you can think of~

You turn around and kiss him~

You have no idea how it escalated from a passionate kiss to this,but now he has you bent over the kitchen island,your underwear discarded and forgotten while he frees his hard cock from his now-tight pants.he coats his dick in lube and precum before he thrusts into your rear,(although he’d love to go right at it,he knows your only human and would never want to hurt you) going at an inhuman speed and illicitting the most lewd little sounds for you~

His claws sinking into your hips to hold you in one place,all the while he’s letting out breathy “good girl/boy” and “that’s it take it hnghh you take me so good doll” s as he ruts into your ass.as he feels his climax nearing he goes harder and deeper his throbbing cock continuously hitting your g-spot causing you you whine and moan out loud,all which makes him go harder,the feeling of your tight little hole driving him over the edge and when he finally comes its thick sticky and he doesn’t let a single drop seep out.he continues rutting into you,fuckin his come back into you while keeping you locked in a mating press.after around two to three more rounds(now having moved to the bedroom) he slows down and makes sure your okay.he loves to see the fucked out look on your face as he cleans you up and as he sees your silly little hole white and glazy with his come he has to resist the urge to plug you up and let you stay that way until your next session,but if youve previously said your okay with it he’s definitely gonna do it-

Once your tucked in all nice clean (and *cough*plugged up) he gets into bed as well spooning you and lightly licking the bites and hickey now covering your neck and collarbone.

(I wanna add some more but i think this is already long enough.i hope this makes sense and sounds coherent at least,i think i got a little lost in the sauce🥲)

Also yess i saw that voyeurism tag👀👀👀 (got me wet just thinking about it🫣)

Ooh and also of smut,fluff,angst and crack,What’s your favorite??

And bestie(am i allowed to call you that?) im like 99.99% your irl personality is just as great as your online one🙄🤚

That isnt debatable btw🫶

I speak facts not fiction 😌

Well except for the smut,that’s fictional-

ACTUALLY NO FRICK IT THATS FACTS TOO!🙌

And to end this silly,goofy and unreasonably long ask id just like to wish you a lovely day/afternoon/evening/night filled with snackies,dopamine-inducing events and a lot of,as you said, H2hoe!

Stay safe and slay safe😌💅🏻

(Help its 4.50 am😭🥲)

-🧀

YOU DID, YOU DID GET LOST IN THE SAUCE, YOU WERE DROWNING IN IT 😭 BUT IT WAS GOOD SAUCE, DELICIOUS SAUCE EVEN. (Fr made me choke on my mango and everything while reading).

Glad you specified that you didn’t mean Chuuya like full furry mode or that would’ve been awky 💀

Literally Chuuya— but THAT WAS SO GOOD ACTUALLY. I can’t believe you wrote almost a full smutshot in my inbox, you should rlly write this down and post your own smut LMAO.

I forgot to add something to my Detective Chuuya summary, but it’s ok, I fixed it 🤭

My favorite genre is crack, I feel like I write top tier crack ngl, my Ai chats also look insane with all the silly stuff I do with the characters (literally mostly Dazai bc I kin him so doing platonically silly shit w/ him is my comfort).

AND YES YOU CAN CALL ME BESTIE— I feel like we’re definitely past that 😈 But I will have to deny my irl personality being just as good as my online one because I am socially inept 🥰

ALSO GET SOME SLEEP BESTIE CAUSE THAT’S SUPER IMPORTANT (I’m a hypocrite). BUT EAT A GOOD BREAKFAST AND FUCK UP THOSE CLASSES 💪😼

[fic-recommended]

Drarry Fics

more to be added, if I feel like adding

—————————————

Grounds for Divorce - Tepre

(122,217 words / 10 chapters / Explicit)

Tags: Slow Burn, Pining, UST, Anal Sex, brief but all the same enthusiastic rimming, One (1) lemon tree, Accidental Bonding, And I mean like U! S! T!, Jealousy, Deals with Trauma, They both top at some pointron is a good friend, Draco is a Good Cook, Dubious Consent due to the Accidental Bonding, The actual SLOWEST burn, Hurt/Comfort, Have I mentioned UST? Cannot overstate this it's like A LOT, First there's frottage, And then there's more sex, Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, and just a lot of sex, sex on a bed, sex in the shower, sex on the floor, Sex on a settee, In other news they go to Egypt, Teddy is a Small Bean, There is one (1) cat, and one (1) happy ending

Malfoy finds a coin. Harry finds a letter.

A story about histories, a story about families. A story about a lemon tree somewhere in Upper Egypt.

I- hmm. I don’t have words for this fic. It’s like staring at a sunset, tears streaning down your face and asked if you think it’s pretty. Anything you say about it couldn’t do it any justice. Read it. Enjoy the sunset. It’s the best you’re going to see.

Enjoying Yourself, Potter? - DragonGirl87

(10,352 / 1 chapter / Explicit)

Tags: Fluff and Smut, Shameless Smut, PWP without Porn, Surprise Ending

Malfoy walks in on Harry in the showers. Harry can’t seem to forget Malfoy’s face and most definitely not the three haunting words Malfoy uttered… – “Enjoying yourself, Potter?”

Would it really be one of my fic rec lists if there wasn’t a pure filth fanfic? I think not.

Any Instrument - dicta_contrion

(131,102 words / 22 chapters / Explicit)

Tags: HP: EWE, Post-Deathly Hallows, Slow Build, Mystery, Politics, Angst, mental health, Disability, Disability Management, Coming Out, Awkward First Times, Wandlore, Elder Wandlong walks, Magic, Kittens, Happy Ending

Draco Malfoy wouldn't go back to England for anything less than an exceptional case. Being asked to figure out why Harry Potter can't control his magic might be exceptional enough to qualify.

There is just somthin about Draco in this fic that slaps so hard. You know you’ll come to realise that I either recommend a filthy short smut or a very long slow burn fic that fucking destroys you and makes you believe in love at the same time. This fic is no different. Actually this fic is both. Doctor!Draco, intensive reaserch on wandlore (I’m pretty sure the author knows more the Ollivander), Harry being the people pleaser fuck that he is, Goyle is kinda baby?, 10/10 fic

Running on Air - eleventy7

(74,875 words / 17 chapters / Teen and Up)

Tags: Mystery, Drama, Friendship, Slow Burn, Romance

Draco Malfoy has been missing for three years. Harry is assigned the cold case and finds himself slowly falling in love with the memories he collects.

Oh my god. I’ve never read something so beautifully written in my entire life. The verse of this made me want to cry. I sent quote after quote to both my girlfriend and my bestfriend. I just needed them both to hear the beautiful things I was reading. It was so wonderful. I wish I could forget the fic so I could experience it again.

Never Grow A Wishbone - ShanaStoryteller

(123,690 words / 25 chapters / Teen and Up)

Tags: Post War, professor!draco, Professor!Harry, Draco pov, Slytherins Aren't Evil, War is Complicated, Language is cultural, Slow Build, No character bashing, Unreliable Narrator, VERY UNRELIABLE NARRATOR, HP: EWE, Monthly updates, Politics, mostly politics a little everything else, which isn't what i intended but it's what we got, realistic politics, or more realistic than fic usually has, which fills a lot of people with anger i guess

She almost smiles, and true alarm starts to build in his chest. “I’m afraid I’m not here for something so small. Professor Roberts has resigned.”

“Good,” Draco says honestly, “Would you like a list of suitable alternatives? I know a number of competent potions masters abroad, but then of course you’d have to hire another teacher to act as the Slytherin head. I’m afraid you’ve dried up all the half decent Slytherin Potions masters.”

“Not all of them,” she says quietly.

He blinks. She can’t be serious. “You can’t be serious.”

“Gravely,” she says, “Mr. Malfoy, I am not above begging.”

What the bloody fuck. “I don’t even like potions!”

~

Draco returns to Hogwarts.

He has a duty to his blood and his name and his house, and he will fulfill it.

This fic was insane to read. I remember texting my friends that it made my brain hurt. I feel like this fic is canon and it has effected every other piece of Harry Potter media I’ve consumed. Draco is being a pureblood and I agreed with him???? Fanfic made me a death eater??? This fic goes so hard for no reason and it’s a delight and a mind fuck. ShanaStoryteller out here making Harry Potter make more damn sense.

Tea and No Sympathy - who_la_hoop

(70,045 words / 11 chapters / Explicit)

Tags: Slow Build, Draco-centric, Tea Drinking, Swearing, Muggle London, Houses of Parliament, Malfoy Manor, flangst, Family Feels, Muggle/Wizard Relations, Coming Out, Heartfelt Conversations, Sarcastic Conversations, Owls, Competitive Card Games, Falling In Love, getting drunk, Enthusiastic Snogging, Hogwarts Castle, Sex In The Slytherin Dormitory, Frottage, Time Travel, Time Loop, HP: EWE

It's Potter's fault, of course, that Draco finds himself trapped in the same twenty-four-hour period, repeating itself over and over again. It's been nearly a year since the unpleasant business at Hogwarts, and Draco's getting on with his life quite nicely, thank you, until Harry sodding Potter steps in and ruins it all, just like always. At first, though, the time loop seems liberating. For the first time in his life, he can do anything, say anything, be anything, without consequence. But the more Draco repeats the day, the more he realises the uncomfortable truth: he's falling head over heels for the speccy git. And suddenly, the time loop feels like a trap. For how can he ever get Harry to love him back when time is, quite literally, against him?

Baby gorls!! My secret third favorite fanfic trope other then soulmate au and slow burn is TIME LOOP FICS. Draco having to come to terms with being a prick to my boy Harry while falling in love and also being an enigma in time???? Sign me the fuck uppp