#or him having to sing the song the love of his life wrote for someone who as much as he wants to ignore it. is not him.

[singeryuri]

so y'know how ti.ll was forced to sing my clematis. i thought about jarek getting forced to sing one of iv.an's songs. currently swimming in my own tears

[hoseoksluna]

INFINITY | jjk

pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x f. reader

genre: fluff

word count: 2.7k

summary: your birthdays have never been happy until jungkook became your boyfriend.

note: IT'S MY BIRTHDAYYYYYY. and i wrote this little light fic in just a day for the occasion. no smut, just pure fluff and cuteness. i want you all to go back and read this fic on your own bday and imagine you have such an amazing bf like jk:( enjoy! i love you guys. MWAH.

He was supposed to be here. 

Or at least that’s what your brain kept telling you throughout the longest workday of your life as your fingers tapped away on the keyboard and you used your sweet sing-song voice to talk to customers—something you do five, sometimes six days a week, although today was different. 

Today was your birthday. 

A pitifully miserable day that celebrates the moment you came into this world, only to realize, fifteen years later, that you don’t fit in—that it doesn’t have a place for you, where you belong and where you can be happy. A wretched day that your mom doesn’t want to celebrate because the preparations stress her out and because she thinks your family doesn’t really like you and she doesn’t want you to get sad, when they buy you gifts that are disappointing. 

As if that mattered. As if you didn’t love your family enough that the gifts aren’t what’s important about this day. 

This year shall be different, though. For the first time in your life you have a serious boyfriend that you’ve been with for a whole year now. A round but tall and muscular boyfriend. A Harley-Davidson driving, gold Marlboro-smoking boyfriend that you met a day after your birthday that should’ve been special but wasn’t. You spent it in tears because your mom made you feel guilty about wanting to celebrate it with your family, so you went out the following night with your girls to get drunk, go forget and met this man outside the bar that smoked alone and smiled at you a bit too often whenever you felt his gaze and turned around, your arm half-bent in the air, the cigarette smoke of your own swirling around your shivering form from the cold and the dull excitement that you caught the attention of someone so attractive and adorable at the same time. 

The way his eyes glinted in the yellow lights, starry and tender, as if they had never seen the ugly in this world—or perhaps they have, but they never accepted it. 

The way they rounded even more when you met them with your own, and the way his mouth parted because he seemingly couldn’t believe that you would notice him. 

Your friends knew something you did, innerly, as well—that this man was special and that he was yours. Your best friend, the mom of the friend group, stubbed her cigarette and leaned inside the waterfall of your hair and instructed you what to do. 

Stay here and have another cig. We’re going inside. 

You felt that it was the right thing to do, and so you smiled and you nodded. Your best friend patted your head, smirked to herself and left without any other word. 

You lit up another cigarette. 

And Jungkook… he was a moth, transfixed by the flame, gravitating towards you and sparking up a conversation about the happy birthday headband you were wearing. And you stayed there with him until your fingers were numb with the iciness of the night and until you ran out of cigarettes. 

But you didn’t go back to your friends all empty. 

Jungkook slid two Marlboros of his own into your pack, infiltrated hope into your heart by talking to you so gently and so purely—a hope in a better life and a better world and a better birthday, and infused your lungs with poetry by the way he looked at you. 

Like you were the prettiest girl he’d ever seen.

And a month later, after many dates, you had a taste of infinity on his lips. The infinity of the universe, of the world, of the love that had been brewing in you for him. The infinity of life that likes you, that had mercy on you and gave you someone like him. You had shared that with him on many occasions, but the first time he heard it, he sobbed into your hands. And just like you knew it then that he was yours, you couldn’t doubt it at that moment. 

He was engraved into your veins, written on the page that has your name within the Book of Life. 

And now, a year later, you ponder the hope that has not left the chambers of your heart since that fateful night as you enter your dark, deserted apartment that carries his scent but not his presence. 

You expected him to be here, waiting for you to come home after your afternoon shift. Your manager let you leave a half an hour early, an information you texted your boyfriend as soon as you received it, but now as you click on your messages with him, you perceive that he hasn’t even seen it. 

It hasn’t even been delivered. Only sent. 

Your heart cracks. The infinity thins out. You throw your brown leather purse onto the ground and try, with all your might, to keep your emotions at bay. The words of your mother flood your brain and your spine rounds at the heft of its innermore truth, your tiredness due to your long workday helping, breaking your back until you walk upon the debris of your own bones. 

So much for having hope. So much for believing that you could be loved by those closest to you. Why is this happening to you? Why do you have to be so eternally sad? Having the wholeness of the world against you as if you were nothing, as if you weren’t a human being deserving of love—

The rapid railroad of your thoughts is halted by the three-seconds long beeping of your passcode being accepted and when you turn around, the world you thought was against you turns to face you, ready to immerse you in its kindness. 

Jungkook enters. And it’s not a bouquet of flowers, whose petals graze against his sweaty temple. No, it’s a humongous pot of a white orchid that swallows all light of the room, only to spit it back down your throat when Jungkook crosses the distance and kisses you until your mind gets woozy, spinning around and around. 

A hard, alarming kiss that contains many, many questions. 

The light mends your heart, the softness of his lips, despite the harshness of the long peck, gluing all those broken parts together, and your lungs bloom with new flowers of poetry that he’s more than capable of taking care of in you. His free hand grips your waist, intensifying the questions in the kiss and when he pulls back, they thump in his big, round eyes that are never brown, but endlessly black. 

They thump so vivaciously that they plunge out of his mouth almost immediately. 

“Where were you? I waited for you outside of your work. I wanted to pick you up,” he says, panting, so out of breath as if he ran all the way here and broke a sweat. A bead of perspiration trickles down his other temple—and there, behind his ear, you notice a singular cigarette with a brown butt. 

Gold Marlboro. 

The sight is an electricity that drives life into your heart, making it beat as if it was never broken in the first place. 

Your lips are dry, your throat parched, and you think you need another one of his kisses. As a matter of fact, that’s all you want. His kisses, his sweat, his warm presence. 

Him. 

“My manager let me go home half an hour early,” you explain, gripping the hand that holds you, feeling guilty. Jungkook’s eyes pierce you, paying the utmost attention to you, coaxing your words out of you. You can vividly see that he needs them. “I texted you. I thought you’d be here.” 

Jungkook sighs, closing his eyes for a split second. A wave of relief washes over him and he purses his lips before he presses them not against your own, but against your cheek, his free hand migrating to the back of your head. And the warmth of his palm slaughters all of your bad thoughts, makes space for happy thoughts and happy emotions—and the act is so severely profound that you have to hold onto him, grip his waist like he gripped yours, and take the transformation as best as you can. 

“I was so scared,” he whispers onto your cheekbone, resting his face against yours, sinking his fingers into your hair. “If it weren’t for your coworker who told me that you left early, I would still be standing there.” He withdraws, looking down at you and pointing your face up at him. “My phone died. I didn’t get your message. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here. I wanted to surprise you.” 

Your heart enlarges, escaping out of your throat and into the pot he’s still holding. You shake your head, thinking he doesn’t need to be sorry for anything, and pucker your lips to ask for another kiss. Jungkook nearly whimpers at the sight, leaning down and obliging, softening the kiss he’s so willing to give you, melting it into a hundred more kisses that make your tummy flutter. And there, there the hope, which he had suffused you with a year ago, comes to a full circle and you comprehend that as long as you have him, you’ll never spend your birthday in despair. 

And because of that, you deepen the kiss. 

The tears streaming down your cheeks feel so terribly faint owing to the overwhelmingness of your emotions. It is gladness that clutches your whole being, gratitude second, and your expanding love for him in third place. And all those emotions dissolve into his cheeks in the infinity of your kiss and it is when you press your body against his and wrap your arms around his neck that you realize that the orchid pot isn’t the only gift he has for you. Around the same wrist, belonging to his hand that holds the flower, are hung small gift bags that prevent you from fully dissipating into him—and that is the matter that severs the kiss, which holds the entire universe. 

And it’s not the contents of the gift bags that makes it collapse. 

It’s the red ring box that he fishes out of his pocket. 

Jungkook doesn’t get down on his knee. His hands tremble, very much like your heart, your blood system, your muscles, as he opens the box and allows you to see the gift for your very first special birthday. A diamond ring, held up by a gold lining shaped into an infinity sign. The infinity of his kiss, the infinity of your love for him, the little things you observed that made him cry—all made true in a singular ring that flits in his tattooed, trembling hand. The orchid gets placed on the nearby round table and the foreign emotions, which go beyond the ordinary happy emotions you’ve ever felt, suffocate you. So much that you begin to tremble just the same, sobbing as you turn your gaze away from the magnificent ring to the greater, blurry magnificence of his eyes just to catch the same, identical tears drenching his red, red cheeks. 

“Jungkook…” you mewl, sniffling, your constricting lungs not letting you say anything else, and you cup his hands like a flower. Perhaps to still their quivering, perhaps to just simply hold them—feel his warmth, feel the vibrancy of his tattoos—because, truth be told, you have no idea what’s happening.  

Jungkook calls you by your name in order to have your full attention and you anticipate finding in him the meaning of this all, stability and groundness. And he doesn’t hesitate. Hell, he doesn’t waste a second. 

“My little princess,” he starts but pauses momentarily, his bottom lip quivering as he holds his tears and you fall apart. At the pet name, at the unfolding of his emotions that bear nothing but raw beauty you’d readily die for.  “This is my promise to you that I am yours for all infinity. Nothing can break it, nothing can stop it, and that defines our life together. I want to spend it with you until we’re the last two people on this Earth. I know our love will keep us alive.” Tears spurt down onto his cheeks against his strong will and you wipe them away as you feel yourself swelling up with love, with something beyond joy, and with utmost, utmost adrenaline. “I love you with everything in me.” His voice breaks and you break in tandem. Jungkook envelops a buff arm around you, burying you into his chest, and for the last part of his speech, he draws close to your ear. “Happy birthday.” 

And he kisses that little seashell, kisses the planes of your cheeks until he finds your lips that he seizes, violently, with his until the infinity bursts at the seams, imbuing you with its eternal, yet different energy that promises that everything from now on shall be joyful and beautiful. His sob entangles with yours and, pulling away with a smack, he grins down at you. No piercings, just the flush of his cheeks and the love for you he radiates adorning him—and you love him. 

You love him so awfully devastatingly. 

And you tell him. You tell him as he takes your left second-last finger and slides the promise ring down that digit. And you tell him again when you meet his eyes, as if for the first time all over again and jump into his arms. The diamond reflects the light, stealing it, hiding it for you and him, the size of the ring fitting so perfectly that another set of tears gush through. 

And then he’s patting your bum, telling you to open your gifts and he kneels with you on the floor and goes through each bag he got you. A red lipstick, a perfume, a black silky dress with matching stilettos—all of which he wants you to wear on a Saturday night with him to celebrate. Then, all your favorite ‘you’ things that you love. Face masks, even lip masks, bath bombs, shower gels and body creams. Fluffy socks, pajamas, granny panties. A bottle of red wine and four packs of grape ice vape. 

Jungkook leaves you stunned. And you don’t have time to process all those wonderful things because suddenly you’re up on your feet and you’re led into a rhythm of a song he begins to hum, slow dancing with you in your living room. One hand firm on your waist, the other just as firm clasped around your hand, his eyes fixed on you, mouth in that everlasting pout. 

And you fade into him. Don’t think about your mother and the hurtful things she said. They cease to exist in the atmosphere of your shared life with him, more now than ever. You focus on the stability of his grip on you, the smoothness of his hand, the tightness you feel on your waist that grounds you, your feet that get on well with his in this dance and your hips that he loves to see moving. You focus on yourself; you focus on him. On the way he dressed up for you, ironed his black shirt and on the way he still smells so good, even though he broke a sweat. 

On the way he just committed his life to you. 

And then, he’s dressing you in the pajamas he bought you. Baggy and banana-patterned, beige and yellow colored, sitting you down on your couch and lifting your legs, one by one, to keep your feet warm with your matching socks. He’s taking your make-up off, brushing your teeth and smoothing down a face mask on your forehead, cheeks and chin, pecking you sweetly. And you’re straddling him, putting the same one on the planes of his face, and as you’re focusing, he meditates on something within his heart. 

And Jungkook shares it with you, all ruffled, sleepy and puffy. 

“I love you, my little princess. For all infinity.” 

You breathe it in, believing him. 

“I love you, Jungkookie. For all infinity.” 

You fall asleep like this—on his bare chest with your face mask still on, one that he peels off after the fifteen minute mark. And you dream about what your infinity with him looks like as your age no longer matters and stops here. 

Infinitely young, infinitely loved. 

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @jjk7k , @tkslovechild , @euphoricmyth , @cinmmongirl , @ririkookiemonster , @perfectiondazesworld , @https-mei , @bangtansonyeondanue , @jungkoock , @cinmmongirl , @hoseokkie-caeks , @kam9404 , @fr0ggieth1nk , @parkinglot-nights

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved

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[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

I Put A Spell On You.

‘Smoke’wants you back, and he’ll do whatever it takes.

(Part one maybe?)

I put a spell on you

Because you're mine

You better stop the things you do

I tell you, I ain't lying

I ain't lying…

Word got around that Smoke was back in town. You couldn’t miss him with his snazzy suit’s silhouette characterized by broad shoulders, a high waist, and wide-leg trousers. A quintessential element in a man’s wardrobe. The whispers traveled to many ears, but it was only one pair he was concerned with.

Rosetta Scott.

A dilly he’s obsessed with. His soft-spoken jazz singer. She ended their relationship when Smoke decided to up and leave New Orleans with his ill-tempered identical twin brother, but he promised he’d be back and to write him. After two years, he’s back and ready to stake his claim on his woman.

Smoke hopped out of his Cadillac 16 cylinder wearing round, small sunglasses with wired frames. He removed his 8-panel hat and shut the door behind him. Smoke took a long drag of his blunt while staring straight ahead with a lopsided grin.

The reflection within the circular lenses of his dark frames was one he’d missed for years. A living tapestry of culture, history, and an unmistakable passion for life. This place, with its rhythmic streetcars and the spicy aromas from its kitchens, isn't just alive; it breathes stories at every corner.

Stretching his long legs with a purposeful gait, his expensive gaiters picking up dirt, Smoke pushed open the withering, wooden, hinge doors leading into a lively establishment. The smell of fish fry, sweat, cheap cologne, weed, and sex titillating his nose caused a wide grin to spread across his thick lips. He slowly removed his sunglasses, revealing piercing, brandy-eyes and a primal desire.

There she was. Doing what she loved. He was joyful. Proud.

laidback with rhythmic flexibility.

That husky breathy tone.

Her vocals always had a very raw unedited feel which made her songs feel more real and personal. She also tends to use harmonies and layering which sometimes gives the song a drowning all consuming affect.

The silk of her flowing silver slip seemed to mold into her hourglass frame. The premium fur shawl she wore hung loosely from her glistening shoulders. Her lips the color of ox blood stained the mic in front of her. The swing and blues notes with complex chords blending with her sultry voice had everyone on that floor dirty dancing.

Smoke broke his eyes away reluctantly, taking off his suit jacket, placing it on the back of a chair. He ashed out his blunt and placed it in the front pocket of his crisp, white button down. Smoke made his way towards the bar, unbuttoning his sleeves and his shirt along the way.

“Yes, daddy! Play that saxophone!”

“Sing it Rose!”

“Let’s Jive!”

“Ooooweee! If it ain’t Mr. Smoke Stack himself! Come over here!”

Smoke chuckled deeply before dabbing up his uncle and the owner of the establishment; Buck. His liquor breath and gold teeth were two things you remembered about Big Buck. Or, how he’d like to call it ‘I’m Big Buck and I like to fuck’. And boy did he get his share of pussy. He had eight kids to prove it.

“Look at my nephew! Now hold on…where is your twin?” Buck’s yellowing eyes wandered around in search of him.

“He’s handlin’ business. No time to settle. You know how he get. I had to break away tho’ I got business to ‘tend to.”

Smoke accepted a glass of whiskey and took a long sip. It burned so good down his throat.

“Yeah, uh-huh. We know why’s you here! That gal. You know she’s seeing someone else, right?”

The corner of his upper lip fluttered with disdain at the thought of another man touching his bitch. Smoke wasn’t having it. One look into his eyes, she’d fall into his lap again. Wet puss and all. She wrote him often. Sent him pictures. He’d gotten them all. So, was she doing all that while messing with some squat-ass fool?

“Gimme the low down, Buck.” Smoke insisted impatiently.

“Aight, nephew. Another?”

Smoke raised his glass, “hold the hail. I don’t need no watered down shit. I’m tryna get swacked.”

Buck’s gut laugh filled the cramped space between them.

“You remember Phonzo?”

“Shid, not pussy ass Phonzo? C’mon now gal…”

“Damn straight. He wines and dines her. Buys her shit…”

“She using.” Smoke replied.

He turned his eyes on her again. She looked so damn fine. Mmm. That body was nice. He could smell her perfume on his mustache. That amber scented flesh. Smoke knocked the rest of his drink back and stood from his seat at the bar. She ended another song and received a standing ovation. Smoke pushed his way towards the front but before he could get there, a man reached out to help her down. Her joyous laugh made Smoke’s stomach churn.

“Put me down, baby! I had too much to drink!”

“it’s Smoke Stack!”

All eyes fell towards the handsome gangster. Smoke ignored all except those pretty, doe eyes that locked on him with utter shock. Short and stacked. The finest woman in all of Louisiana. Ain’t no way she’s giving all that to Phonzo. Smoke pressed forward, his penetrating eyes racking over Rosetta’s frame. It was easy to tell the twins apart because one had a noticeable scar on his face and the other didn’t.

“Well I’ll be,” Phonzo secured his arm around Rosetta’s waist tighter, “Smoke. What’s shaking, man?”

Smoke’s lips remained tightly sealed and his eyes never left his Rosey. Tension was thick in the air like the sound of the powerful double bass.

I love my moonshine whiskey

Better than I do my man

I love my moonshine whiskey

Better than I do my man

You got have your beer in your bottle

Give me my cool kind hands…

“Rosey…”

Rosetta parted her deep-red lips to speak.

“Smoke…”

That voice. He’d missed it.

Smoke Stack was seeing red.

“Get yo’ hands off my woman, Phonzo.”

“You think you can just show up? This ain’t your woman anymore, Smoke. You proved that when you left her for the taking. Go on somewhere now…”

Phonzo attempted to walk away with Rosetta in his grasp, but Smoke swiftly grabbed her hand, swinging her over towards him with an expert twirl of her beautiful frame. She collided with his sturdy chest, her eyes staring up at him.

Rosetta was still trying to pick her jaw up from the floor. She couldn’t believe Smoke was back. The familiar warmth of his much larger and more powerful frame sent images swirling through her mind of the times they’ve shared. She hadn’t received a letter from him in almost a year. Every single day she worried herself about him. However, Rosetta had entertained the thought of being with Phonzo. Tonight would have been the night that she would have given Phonzo a taste of what Smoke Stack dicked down. It was an act of desperation.

“Rose! Whatchu doin’ gal? Don’t let this fool back into your life!” Phonzo reached his hand out for her to take, “I won’t leave you like he did. Remember? I promised that trip to Chicago. We can pack up and catch a train!”

“I’ll take her to Chicago, to Trinidad, Paris, wherever my money goes, she goes. You had your fun tryna get what’s mine. I suggest you fade, Phonzo…”

Um, make me another two bit pint

Um, make me another two bit pint

'Cause I've got my habits down

I'm gonna wreck this joint…

“Let’s go,” Smoke had a strong grip on Rosetta’s hand as he placed her in front of him to walk away.

Rosetta finally gathered her thoughts. She halted her footsteps inches away from the bar.

“Hold on, Smoke,” She pointed a red nail at him sternly, “How dare you show up here like this?! I haven’t heard from you in over a year! You can’t just walk up in here and whisk me away like some night in shining armor! Who do you think you are?!”

“Says which? I’ve written you!” Smoke shouted back.

“I ain’t get one letter in a year!”

Smoke kisses his teeth, “That’s some bullshit and you know it. Maybe the letters got mixed up…none of that matters now, baby. I’m back. For good now…”

Buck and another bartender watched the two of them go back and forth with amusement.

“We’ll see how long that lasts!” Rosetta sassed.

A gun clicking had Smoke on high alert. He pushed Rosetta behind him and turned, staring down into the barrel of a pistol. Phonzo was sweating bullets. He had two of his lackeys behind him, posted up like they were ready to do damage. Rosetta clung onto the sticky bar top, peeking around to see what the ruckus was about.

“Time to knock you off that high horse. You and that brother of yours don’t run shit ‘round here no more. Give me back my bitch, and we can get back to jivin’.”

“Excuse me?!” Rosetta argued, “I got your bitch—”

“Rosey, relax, baby. Daddy got this.” Smoke looked from the pistol pointed at his chest, to Phonzo with a sinister smile, “You off the cob or something, Phonzo?”

“You tryna make me look pussy in front of my boys?!”

Smoke tilted his head to size up his ‘boys’.

“They shakin’ in they boots just like you. C‘mon now, Phonzo. We can do this the easy way…you put that steel down, and walk away. I came for my woman and that’s it. Pick yo’ self up and use those bony-ass pegs and leave.”

Laugher erupted around them. Patrons watched on like it was a live performance. Phonzo always hated being the laughingstock. No one took him seriously. People tolerated him because Smoke and his twin skipped town to handle business.

“I ain’t going nowhere!” Phonzo yelled.

He pressed his gun into Smoke’s chest hard.

“Nigga, you ain’t got shit—”

Smoke picked up a bottle of Jack Daniels and cracked it over Phonzo’s head. When Phonzo dropped to his knees with shards of glass embedded in his face, Smoke snatched his pistol up and pointed it at the two men that were once standing proud. They both shared a look with each other before bending over to pick Phonzo up.

Smoke placed the pistol in the waistband of his slacks and snatched a handkerchief out of his pocket to clean up the blood that seeped from a gash in the palm of his hand. People were used to violence ‘round here. Too drunk, high, and horny to care about Phonzo bleeding out onto the floor. Buck didn’t blink an eye as he shined a new glass before pouring a gentleman a glass of top shelf whiskey.

“Get ‘em out. Don’t come back, nigga. I’ll use your pistol to put a bullet in yo’ head fuckin’ wit’ me!”

Phonzo—delirious and bloody—was dragged out of the juke joint by his two loyal men. Smoke knew that as soon as Phonzo regained consciousness, he’ll be on the hunt for him. Smoke was ready.

Smoke took a seat at the bar and pulled Rosetta into him. Blunt between his lips, glass of whiskey in front of him, Rosetta gave him a light, watching her daddy with lust.

You know I can't stand it

You're running around

You know better, baby

I can't stand it 'cause you put me down

Oh, no…

“Smoke, Daddy…”

Rosetta took the blunt from between his lips and hit it. He watched her with low, hazy eyes. All he did was walk through those doors. She was at his mercy like he’d never left.

“You’ll really take me to Paris?”

Smoke accepted his blunt, “I’ll take you all over the world, baby…listen, I know I got some makin’ up to do, but don’t you ever do no shit like that again, hear me? I’m a always come back to you…”

“You right about that makin’ up,” Rosetta giggled, “We got all night though. Phonzo was my ride home…”

“Here, go grab my jacket and we can go.”

Smoke tapped Rosetta on her rump and pointed to where he placed his suit jacket. He paid his tab and promised to be back to catch up with his uncle. Rosetta returned and Smoke grabbed her by the hand, ushering her out of the juke joint and into the murky night.

_______________

Smooth leather seats, a pistol on the dash, windows rolled down.

Rosetta and her fur shawl sat elegantly next to a hunk of a gangster. She admired the stain of her lipstick on his cheek when she stole a quick kiss while he opened her door for her.

She missed her Smoke Daddy so damn bad. It hurt to the bone. Smoke could feel her pretty eyes on him and he glanced over to her, giving her a dimpled smirk filled with mischief. They were halfway there to her apartment above a boutique.

“I missed you, Rosey. So much.”

I put a spell on you

Because you're mine…

“Where did you go?”

Smoke took a moment to respond.

“…My brother had business in Texas. Then we picked up some jobs throughout the south. Made enough money to last us a lifetime…Made some bad choices, but I’m richer. Stronger. Ready to sweep you off yo’ feet. I want you to travel the world and sing to audiences bigger than that hole in the wall. Serious, gal.”

Rosetta blinked away tears.

“Don’t do none of that, baby. No crying…”

“I’m just glad ya ain’t dead somewhere in a ditch!”

Rosetta accepted a clean handkerchief from Smoke. She dabbed her eyes to avoid messing up her makeup.

“I made a promise to get back to you and I meant that.”

Rosetta exhales, “I know, daddy…I just…I’ve been so touch starved. I would’ve given Phonzo all of me if you hadn’t shown up…”

Smoke’s nostrils flared and he looked at her with those dark eyes that made her clench her thighs.

“Phonzo don’t know what to do wit’ all that. And you belong to me. All of you. You make that pussy cum while Daddy was away?”

“Yes…but it wasn’t enough. I miss the fuckin’ we used to do…”

Smoke’s Cadillac slowed to a stop in front of the boutique Rosetta’s mother owned. She worked there for extra money, but now that Smoke was back, she didn’t have to work. Smoke opened her door and helped her out. Shutting it, they walked towards the shop and Rosetta opened the door with a single gold key. Smoke observed his surroundings with a sharp eye before following her inside. It was dark, but the moonlight ignited a path for them leading towards a narrow staircase leading up to Rosetta’s apartment that she shared with her mother.

She had some privacy for now since her mother went away to visit family in Baton Rouge for a week. The boutique was closed until she returned. Rosetta opened the door and flicked on a light. It was exactly how Smoke had remembered it. Small and cozy and blessed by a woman that practiced root work. Rosetta walked into their small kitchen and opened the fridge to grab a pitcher of water. She poured a glass for Smoke and herself.

“You can stay for a few days until momma comes back. It don’t matter how grown I am, she don’t like men over…”

“I get it. I’ll have a place to stay. Then you can leave here and be wit’ me.”

“Smoke…”

Smoke finished his glass, sat it on the counter, and pulled Rosetta close. His hands caressed her back and dragged down to cuff her cheeks. Eyes locked on her face, he brought his plump lips to her own, pecking them with soft kisses. Rosetta whimpered and shifted, slightly raising one foot. Smoke hooked his strong arm around her trim waistline. His other hand squeezed the flesh of her plump ass.

“You always know just how to push my buttons, don’t you, Rose? Couldn’t wait for daddy to come back?”Smoke asked with his lips barely touching hers, “That’s alright, though…Im gon’ remind you just who you belong to...”

Suddenly, Smoke delivered a series of sharp smacks to her behind without warning. Rosetta gasped as she felt the sting of each slap. 

“Smoke, I’m sorry…I didn’t fuck him…I swear.” Rose pleaded.

“But you gave ‘em hope. If I hadn’t shown up…”

His wide hand lifted her silk dress over her ass and he went to town whacking each cheek—left, right, left—the pain increasing. Rosetta buried her face into his chest, her lipstick staining his shirt. Smoke palmed her cheeks hard, savoring the heft of that juicy flesh in his rough hands.

“Damn,” Smoke stared over her shoulder and down at her rump, “this big ass…mmm…mmm…mmm…I wanna look at that pussy, baby…I still have that picture of your pussy in my wallet…”

Rosetta set up a camera and took photos of herself nude before sending them off to whatever address Smoke told her to send it to. He’d beat his fat dick every night to all her photos. He stole a pair of her panties as a reminder of her scent. Anything to keep his sanity.

“You do?” Rosetta stared up at Smoke.

“Yeah,” Smoke retrieved his wallet from his pocket. He presented the photo to Rosetta. It had cracks in it from being folded, but her hairy mound, phat clit, and glistening folds stood out against the black and white, “She still nice and bushy?”

Smoke had a thing for hair. He hated whenever Rosetta would do a clean shave. Since he’d been gone, she’d started shaving again. Luckily, there was enough hair there to satisfy his desires.

“Not too much, daddy…”

“Mm,” Smoke flicked his tongue against her lips.

“I want you to do it to me, daddy…”

“Do it all night long, baby?”

“Do it to me, papa…”

Smoke’s dick jumped and stretched to proportions he couldn’t handle.

“I wanna suck on that pussy first…”

Rosetta’s clit twitched at the thought of Smoke slurping on her pussy cat until she was wrung dry. She had a lot for him to drank up. When she first laid eyes on him tonight, the wetness soaked through and created a slippery, sticky mess. Those big lips and that thick dick…

“Let me smell it,” Smoke picked Rosetta up and sat her down on the cramped counter space, “Spread your fuckin’ legs you sexy, bitch…”

Rosetta made quick work of her thighs spreading wide and limber. Smoke could see a big wet spot in the crotch of her cotton panties. He didn’t waste time stroking the outlines of her fat lips that strained against the fabric. Smoke chuckled before slipping her panties to the side. His fingertips graced coarse hair covered in slick and heat. Beyond that was a clit made to be suckled.

“Shit, she still get nice and wet for me,” Smoke admired the shine on his thick fingers before bringing it to his nose to take a whiff, “fuccck,” He pushed his fingers into his mouth and licked them clean, “Fresh pussy…taste so good…”

He was down on his knees with his fingers tangled in her panties to keep them out of his way. Rosetta brought one leg up and it opened her lips more for him to eat. The humidity of that kitchen had their brown skin glistening beneath the dim, yellow, lamp lights. Smoke spread her lips and stared into her pussy. Rosetta stroked his slick-back, begging him to put his face in it.

Smoke buried his nose in it first. He rubbed her clit with the tip of his nose before using his lips to encase her clit and suck. He sucked nice and slow to warm her up, but then he created a vortex so tight with his lips Rosetta almost fell from the counter. The sucking came at a rapid pace—precise and intense.

“Uhnnn,” Rosetta gasped and moaned, “Daddy!”

Rosetta stroked her pussy many times to one of her favorite raunchy tunes. Jump Steady Daddy by Lucille Bogan stayed on repeat whenever she rubbed on her clit to the thought of her Smoke Daddy. She missed when he would come to her late at night, sneak in her bed and eat her pussy. She loved it when he would be on his knees, holding her weight up and fucking into her.

Love me, daddy

Love me all the time

Love me, daddy

Love me all the time

And if you love me like I did

You'll be that jump steady man of mine…

“Yes, ooh, daddy, papa,” Rosetta’s thighs shook out of her control, “Ima cum…Ima cum…”

The thin straps of her silk slip dangled from her shoulders and perspiration trickled down her spine. She didn’t have time to prepare before she was creaming down Smoke’s chin. All he did was suck her clit. He came up for air, lips dripping wet and face glistening with cum.

Her nipples poked out through her slip, teasing Smoke’s eyes. He was as hard as stone, unable to bear the feeling anymore. Smoke stood and picked Rosetta up from the counter, carrying her towards her room. The door was ajar, so all he needed to do was nudge it and he was walking inside. He didn’t bother closing the door. Smoke placed Rosetta on her back, climbing on top of her and sticking his tongue in her mouth.

Rosetta smoothed his button down shirt over his shoulders and Smoke pulled his arms through. He had on a white beater that clung to his muscles like plaster. Smoke broke his lips away and trailed kisses down her neck until he was at the tops of her breasts. Rosetta arched up into his chest, soft moans music to his ears.

Smoke used his teeth to yank the rest of her slip down, revealing 34 C breasts with large nipples that reminded him of chocolate-covered gum drops. Rosetta dragged her nails through his hair, messing up the smoothness of it, revealing waves. Her updo had come undone, finger-waved hair falling into her eyes. The salty, sweet taste of her skin caused him to growl.

“Daddy…I wanna taste that dick…”

With a deep exhale, Smoke stood up. Rosetta sat up on her knees with her dress around her waist and went to work undoing his slacks. She pushed down his boxers and his pants in one motion, his dick bobbing out like a pendulum and hitting her on the chin. Rosetta admired how girthy and veiny her daddy’s dick is. She licked up the precum before it was wasted and with her eyes on him, she wrapped her lips around him and sucked.

“Ahhhh…There you go, baby…that’s how you welcome me home…suck this big boy…gobble it up…”

Her soft hair in his grasp, Smoke’s toned hips pumped her throat. He curled his top lip, revealing golds, grunting at the feel of her tight throat.

“Ugh, fuck, baby…the best dick suckin’ bird in N’awlins…”

Rosetta giggled in response. She prided herself in her skills. Sucking dick and riding dick was her specialty. Smoke licked his lips, eyes barely open as he watched her. He tilted his head and started drilling her mouth. Loud gagging noise started, Rosetta’s once pristine makeup now running down her face.

“You’re so beautiful wit’ my dick in your throat, baby…make daddy cum…so I can fuck that pussy…”

His girth increased, Rosetta’s jaws tightening. She grabbed hold of his balls and worked her neck like no other. Smoke chewed on his bottom lip and threw his head back.

“Hmmm….mmmmmm….”

His hips spasmed out of control. Rosetta almost choked on his thick cum. She had to spit his dick out just to swallow what she could. The rest painted her chest.

“Turn that ass over,” Smoke stepped out of his pants and with one hand on his long dick, he pumped it, “On your knees, gal.”

Rosetta brought that ass in the air and arched her back deep. Smoke stood behind her with a big dick swinging. Rosetta hadn’t felt it in two years. She was afraid. Shaking with fear. He had to open her up again.

“Use them big girl words and tell me what you want,” Smoke slapped her cheeks around, “Where you want this dick?”

“Daddy, fuck me!” Rosetta begged.

His dick aligned with her ass and with his big hands he tucked it higher. Smoke grunted and slapped her bouncy cheeks.

“Ouch! Papa…” Rosetta cried, more from surprise.

It hurt so good. With hands as large as his, he managed to cover a wide area of her ass, leaving behind a burning sting that only made her wiggle her ass against him. Smoke rubbed her down before digging his fingers into the flesh, spreading her wide, and thrusting into her.

“Oh, my! Smoke!”

Rosetta’s ass recoiled and bounced off of Smoke’s sturdy hips. He had her by the hair, keeping her back arched. That man was fucking her like he was fresh out of jail. His thick shaft gave her stretch and his length made her feel it in her stomach. The sound of her wet pussy matched the skin-slapping.

“Big dick on you! Fuck!”

Smoke let go of her hair and grabbed her hips. Rosetta looked back at him with her mouth agape and brows knitted together in disbelief. His hair had puffed up and some strands fell over his forehead. He looked wild and sexy. Muscles flexing, golds flashing, eyes unblinking.

“Keep fuckin’ me, papa! Fuck this wet pussy, daddy! Oh my goddddd—”

Rosetta fell forward and buried her face in the sheets.

“Uh-uh,” Smoke brought one leg up, leaned over her, and wrapped a hand around her throat, “You can take this dick. Get that shit you want so bad,” Smoke said.

Every cry or whimper that came out of her mouth, he responded with an evil chuckle or a groan of his own in her ear.

“Grip me up like that…good girl…that’s it baby…”

Rosetta felt hot liquid trickling down her thighs. Tears brimmed her eyes and her body seized up with her release. Smoke withdrew his hips and got down behind her to lick her up. He licked her thighs, then trailed his spit to her folds. He rolled her onto her back and scooted her towards the edge of the bed. Ass hanging off, legs thrown over his shoulders, Smoke put that dick in her pussy and pounded up into her with sharp thrusts that had her toes curling.

“Oh, shit!” Rosetta and her swinging titties couldn’t handle it, “Damnit, Smoke! I’m cumin’ !!!!!”

Scooting her onto the bed, he pile-drived her into the creaky mattress. Folded in half was an understatement. She stared down the valley of his impressive body at his dick.

“Big Daddy!” Rosetta pressed her feet into his chest, “Fuck me good! Take this pussy!”

“This my fuckin’ pussy…”

Smoke slammed into her before dropping down to kiss her soft lips again. His thrusts turned into modulated pumps that caused her to gasp. Each time his dick would enter her, she would gasp with surprise. Smoke nibbled on her pouty bottom lip and stared into her eyes longingly.

You know I love you

I love you

I love you

I love you anyhow

And I don't care

If you don't want me

I'm yours right now…

“Cum for me Smoke Daddy…”

His forehead furrowed and with one more sharp thrust, he erupted deep in her womb.

———————-

[steddieas-shegoes]

Country singer Steve Harrington, who has always leaned more into the pop country side of things (think Wanted by Hunter Hayes), but wants his third album to be more true to old school country roots.

His label agrees but only if he works with Eddie Munson, a rock star who had to leave the spotlight when he got kicked out of his band for, well, rockstar behavior gone too far.

Steve isn't amused, especially because he doesn't care for metal music or rock star shenanigans. He was "raised better" and doesn't think Eddie could sit down and write songs with actual emotion and feeling.

Cue long songwriting sessions where Eddie is trying his hardest to be on his best behavior because he knows this is his last shot at being taken seriously, and Steve being surprised every time Eddie proves that he's talented as a songwriter and musician, well outside the scope of just metal and rock.

They write a song that they're both so proud of, Steve asks if he'll record it with him just for fun. The released version would just be Steve.

Eddie agrees.

It's an incredible duet, something country music has needed forever, but Eddie doesn't want that version out there.

The label genuinely accidentally releases their version instead of the Steve only version. As soon as they realize, they remove it from official places, but it's too late.

Fans have already heard it and have gone crazy over it, begging them to let the radio play this version, begging for this version to be available for streaming. The Steve version is great, but it doesn't have the emotion that's laced in the tone of them singing together.

Eddie finally gives in when he sees how happy Steve is about the reaction to it.

But the label decides they want them to tour together, have Eddie work as his opening act, perform his acoustic songs that haven't been officially released anywhere. Eddie can't do it.

He can't go back into that lifestyle. He couldn't do it to his band, who made him promise that he'd come back to them when he got his shit straight. He can't do it to his fans, who stuck by him through some rough shit, but probably wouldn't support a fucking country music career. He definitely can't do it to Steve, who deserves to have someone with him who can be trusted not to go off the deep end.

So he runs. He hides. His uncle welcomes him home, congratulates him on finally embracing his country roots.

It doesn't take long for Steve to find him.

Because he'd been more honest with Steve than he'd ever been with anyone. He told him about his childhood, his Uncle Wayne, his struggle to make it. He told him about his worse struggle when he did make it, how he got in with the wrong people, the wrong things. Prioritized the lifestyle more than his own life.

Of course Steve knew where he'd run to.

Of course Steve came to remind him what his life could be if he allowed himself to find new priorities.

Steve's lips were pretty persuasive, but not nearly as persuasive as his promises to remind him what he could have if he kept his life his priority.

"But what if I let you down?"

"You won't."

"But-"

"No. You won't. You're gonna do amazing things for yourself. And I'm gonna be there to see it happen. That's all."

And he was.

They co-wrote Steve's entire album while Eddie worked on recording his own original songs. He liked that it was an old school rock and roll feel, some blues, some country, some hints of metal sneaking in on a couple songs.

He called his band to come help him with a song, hesitant to even ask, but they came. Of course they came.

He called his Uncle Wayne to play banjo on a song, worried that he wouldn't like the heavier electric guitar notes over it. Of course he loved being involved.

When their tour started, he let himself actually feel nervous.

But instead of running, he looked at the man who supported him through it, even when his own career was on the line.

Of course Steve was there.

[nkogneatho]

۪۫❁ུ۪۪𝐖𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 °࿐

—a/n: first thing i wrote after hiatus so still a bit rusty but i tried my best to deliver my emotions. If this gets good response, I'll do part 2. Not proofread. fem!reader

#mlist #taglist #art commissions

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎.𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐎𝐖𝐒

For someone who's so confident, Satoru for the first time found himself anxious, legs trembling in the wonderment of what his bext action should be. He was standing at the altar in his neat pale grey suit. All eyes were fixated on him. But that's not what made him nervous. It was how he would react when he sees you. And just then, you appeared like the fragment of his best intentions.

The wedding band started playing the theme. Your white flowy satin dress dancing to the rhythm of the wind. Your beautiful face concealed a little from the veil. You looked so perfect. And just when you finally reached the altar, you stood parallel to him, smiling and satisfied with his reaction. You've never seen him so engorged in something—or someone.

The minister asked him to proceed with the vows.

"Y/N L/N. I usually am the one to talk a lot. But for the first time, I am short of words." You smiled at him.

"I think it's crazy how I see you everyday, but somehow you still manage to take my breath away with how beautiful you are. I know I call myself the honored one...but trust me darling, I am nothing but a fish in your ocean. You...you are my everything. And when I say that, I mean it. I want you to know that if the world is ever against you, I'll be in the front protecting you with all I have. I love you so much, baby." It feels like he's choking on his words.

This man that just said thst he's at loss for words, proceeded to make you tear up with a poetry. You've never been love so much in life. It feels unreal. But you know it's all true when as soon as you say "I do" his lips are on yours, reminding that every touch you feel is real.

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒�� 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

The hall was decorated with white lillies and tulips that you loved so much. People grooving and chattering to the background music. Soon it was time for the moment you've been waiting for. The dance. Your first dance with Geto. The lights dimmed and the spotlight hit the floor as you and Suguru walked into the bright refraction on the floor. The crowd dispersing away to give the newly married couple their full attention.

One of his hands was on your waist while the other intertwined one of yours.

Put your head on my shouuulder...

You both smiled wide as you couldn't have asked for a better song. This was the song that you once told Geto you'd like to dance to. Since then, he remembered to play twirl you around to Paul Anka at every occasion. And this one had to be the best one yet.

Hold me in your arms, baby...

He mouthed the words and you couldn't help but giggle. Suguru doesn't usually sing but he has this deep voice that blend perfectly to the song. It sounds like heaven.

"Get ready to dance to this every anniversary, my love," he whispered.

The room was filled with so many people. Yet, when your eyes recasted your signature "i love you" look, he suddenly felt the world disappear, and only you two exist.

That's when he realized, he really did get lucky when you fell in love with him.

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍

As always, you woke up late. It's surprising how Toji looks like the one who'd be irresponsible when it's actually you. But hey! He can't complain about it. Weddings and Receptions are tiring. If he could, he'd let you sleep for one whole day if you didn't have a flight to catch. You quickly got dressed and rushed to the airport with your man.

The flight was awful since you were irritated by the snorer next to you. Trust me. You wanted to stuff the macadamia nuts in his nostrils but Toji stopped you from doing so. He had a better and more rational solution of putting headphones over your ears and playing you your favorite song. Your lips widened when his thumb started circling your thighs to calm you and make you relax.

Upon arriving to the hotel, you finally took a big stretch to wash all the tiredness away.

"IT'S HONEYMOON TIME, BABY!!"

You jumped in excitement and pretty much everyone at the entrance was staring at you and Toji. He won't stop you though. He loves watching you dance around everytime you're happy.

You both walked towards the receptionist, with Toji carrying all the luggage. Gotta use the big beefy man privilege baby.

"Good afternoon. How may I help you?"

"Good afternoon. We reserved a suite here a week ago."

"Okay. May I please know the name you reserved it under?" she asked.

"Oh it's Mr. And Mrs. Fushiguro." The moment those words left your lips, Toji felt his world shift. He knew that you were a Fushiguro when you signed the marriage certificate. He knew it when you said "I do" at the altar. He knew it when he placed the ring on your finger. But hearing it from your mouth made him have butterflies in his stomach. Wow. You are really his. He couldn't for one second believe it.

"So this is how heaven feels like," he mumbled.

"You said something, baby?"

"Oh nothing, my love. Just that you're beautiful "

"I'm running on four hours of sleep. My under eyes are darker than your black shirt," you whispered.

"I don't know what you're talking about. You're still the most beautiful person to exist," he argued and you just rolled your eyes. You genuinely wanted to know how he manages to find you beautiful at every occasion.

"Are you in denial?"

"No, darling. I am in love."

Taglist: @sugurini @princess-okkotsu @saturnsoups @cookingforsatoru @oldbutnotold @rin-vana @bimbno @arisaturn @tojigasam @bxrnthyfears @gojoxxluv @seqeva @nanamikentoseyebags @stariwrites @sluttoru @lvmxn @greycaelum @kokonoiscoconut @deskaisers @icyowl @thesimphouse @anxious-chick @monimonieee @sweet-yzabelle @keichartreusely @arguablyferal @kannra21 @bbytamaki @rwibbnz @ta-ni-ya @mamayan @strawwbee @jesi-pinkman @fueledbysano @psychiccloudobject @baewriites @wystericwoes @his-saiko

[vesppperoro]

hii uhh, i had a little idea that id like to share if thats ok, it might be quite triggering tho so be warned ‼️

a sinner demon reader thats based on a teddy bear, because theyre too soft and mushy personality-wise, and they ended up in hell due to being suicidal. like their whole body is covered in stitches thats supposed to be a metaphor for sh scars

do whatever u want with that info, u can even ignore it if u like, have a nice day ❤️

Hazbin Hotel Cast with a Teddy Bear!Sinner Reader

Includes: Charlie, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Husk, Niffty, Sir. Pentious, Cherri Bomb, Alastor.

A/N: this is such an interesting idea! I’m going based on my own experiences as someone like this, along with research. I appreciate you for trusting me with this <3 I definitely WILL make a p2!! Might write for this sinner more tbh I loved writing them!! I thought you meant a child and I wrote that I’m so sorry 😭

Charlie Morningstar

She truly didn’t understand why you were in hell.

You are such a sweetheart! She adores you.

When you showed up to the hotel one day, without clothes and covered in stitches, she was immediately worried.

She took you in and washed you up as best as she could.

You were like a child! Why were you even here?

She was happy that you wanted to be redeemed, however.

She became a mother figure to you.

You go to her when you’re sad and you hug her frequently.

She traces your scars sometimes and you two share a silent moment together.

A silent moment of understanding.

She loves picking you up and holding you!

She hugs you like you’re an actual teddy bear.

She’s the one you go to for emotional things.

She’s good at comforting you. She somehow knows what you wanna hear at all times.

Vaggie

She became a secondary mother figure to you.

She was Charlie’s girlfriend, so of course she was.

She understood your situation and was pissed heaven casted a sweetie like you because of your lowest point.

She’s the more levelheaded one.

She’s the one who gives you advice and stuff like that. While Charlie is the more emotionally supportive one, Vaggie is the more mature and steady one.

She also traces your scars. Even if you don’t like them, she tells you you’re beautiful no matter what.

When you told her more of your story, she almost cried.

A child feeling this way broke her to pieces. Especially since you were so soft.

Other than the sad stuff, she loves cuddling you.

You, her, and Charlie sometimes have cuddle sessions with you in the middle because you’re so warm + soft + squishy.

She would kill anyone for you. You’re just so adorable!

She tries to teach you to fight but gives up when you don’t want to hurt anyone.

Angel Dust

Honestly, he saw himself in you.

A lost, scared, and lonely child. You didn’t know the cruelties of the world, aside from those cruelties in your mind.

He tries his best to comfort you. He’s not the best with words, but he’s always there for you.

He calls you sugar bear! He loves you to death.

He would go to the ends of hell for you.

He treats you like he wished to be when he was the same way.

You two share a lot of similarities, so you bond well.

He nearly cried when you told him your stitches were scars from sh.

He embraces you any time he can.

He tries to be the parental figure he needed so you can have a better life, somewhere no one would judge you.

Husk

He’s stubborn, like a dad. He acts like one too.

A hardheaded, yet sweet dad.

He’s like the father you never had. Or did have. Whichever.

He’s the bartender, so he knew how to comfort.

But when you told him your story, he almost broke.

You two definitely sing some sort of song together. Maybe Angel or Vaggie joins.

He cuddles you and hides you with his wings.

If you give him baby doe eyes, he might just take you on a flight.

Husk is SUPER protective over you. He’s very similar to Vaggie in a way when it comes to protection.

He gives you good advice but he still hides behind his tough guy exterior.

He doesn’t understand why you’re down here, even if you tell him. You’re so sweet!

Either way, he adores you.

He loves patting your head and messing with your fuzzy ears.

Might even boop your nose once or twice.

Late night talks.

He probably talked you down from trying to commit again.

Niffty

Another tiny person! Yay!

You’re not a bad boy. She may be a psycho, but she would never call you bad.

Actually, she did once and felt bad once you cried.

She likes to hang out with you since you’re both tiny!

She cuddles and hugs you like you’re her stuffed animal.

Bug killers! Even if you don’t wanna kill bugs, she’s dragging you along anyways.

She tries to hide her needle from you since Husk told her what your stitches meant.

Alastor has to babysit both of you basically.

You and her do almost everything together! You’re best friends!

She sneaks into the kitchen and grabs you both snacks so you can watch a movie.

She makes you sleep in her bed sometimes so she can cuddle you.

Sir. Pentious

He’s a dad. Or, he was.

He treats you like he wishes he treated his son before he passed.

He acts like your father. An awkward father, but he still tries.

He also protects you.

Expect him to curl his tail around you and cuddle you when you’re sad.

He literally cried when you told him your story.

He tells you anytime he can that it’s not your fault. Your stitches are still beautiful.

Best girl dad ever.

Buys you anything he wants, even if he’s broke. (Except sharp things)

He teaches you some things about inventing!

You made him a little metal flower and he was so overjoyed. He took it with him everywhere.

He still remembers you, even if he’s in Heaven now.

Cherri Bomb

Chaotic auntie energy.

She would do ANYTHING for you.

She picks you up and places you on her hip like a baby.

She loves your ears! She also adores how sweet you are.

She wouldn’t admit it, but you’re the cutest thing she’s ever seen.

Even if you tell her your story, she wouldn’t see you differently. You’re a child, a child who went through so much.

Hangouts with her and Angel are a MUST.

They try to avoid doing the normal around you and focus on fun time.

She took you with her when she had a territorial fight one time and you almost cried.

She felt so bad that she bought you anything you wanted for a week.

She did anything you wanted to do, even if Husk or someone else said no to you.

Basically, if you wanted something, you went to her.

Alastor

He’s not one to like kids, really.

He was, however, kinder to you.

He did anything to protect you.

He was like your insane uncle.

He was the one who taught you how to use your abilities. Maybe to help you, or to manipulate you when you grow.

He made you jambalaya once and it became your favorite dish to share with him!

He introduced you to radio and he was happy that you loved it.

He started bringing you to his studio whenever he did a radio show.

He took you to an overlord meeting once. That’s how you met Rosie.

He pats your head like a dog lol.

Don’t expect him to be emotionally available. But he will be there to have fun sometimes.

[coff33andb00ks]

Until You - Part Three

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four charles leclerc x female pop singer!reader x oscar piastri f1 smau with intermittent scenes

Summary: they drive vroom vrooms, she sings soulful tunes. there's no way in hell this is gonna work, right?

Warnings: language, smut (18+ only)

ynyln has added to their story

[caption: local guide gets lost / best guide ever / fun fact: Oscar sings when he's taking pictures of someone]

"This is so beautiful," y/n said once she'd made her way back to Oscar. She couldn't stop looking out at the view. "If I lived here I'd want to come up here every day."

Oscar chuckled, nodding as he handed her phone back to her. "I moved here recently and the other day was my first time coming up here. I think it's gonna become a regular thing, though."

"I bet it's gorgeous at sunset."

He nodded, sipping his water. "Have you seen the sunset over the water yet?"

"Not yet. Is it nice?" Spreading her jacket on the rock, she sat down, wanting to enjoy the peace and quiet for as long as possible.

Oscar hummed, sitting near her. "It's quite lovely."

"I'll make sure to see it before I go." She wondered if he would want to see it with her. If she was stupid for thinking there was some sort of connection between them.

"Maybe we can see it together." He looked surprised that the words had come from him, and she was further charmed by the faint blush staining his cheeks.

"It's a date," she said softly.

He sighed, and she felt the weight of it roll away from him. Propping his arms on his knees, he cleared his throat. "I'd like that."

"You like being away from it all, don't you?" she asked suddenly, unintentionally mirroring his posture. Resting her cheek on her arm, she watched his face as he considered the question.

"I like peace and quiet occasionally. To remind me of who I am." He shrugged.

"Me, too." She looked out at the sea.

"Do you get to get away from it all? Ever?"

"Not as much as I'd like," she admitted. "I love my life, Oscar, I do. I love that I'm blessed and privileged enough to be able to do something I love and see the world while doing it. And I get a high that can't be matched when I'm able to stop singing and hear words I wrote sung back to me by thousands of people. But I sometimes feel like I always have to be 'on' you know? Like—"

"Like you can't be yourself, or worse, losing who you truly are," he finished.

"Exactly," she whispered. "And for two years I was under even more scrutiny."

"Were you miserable the whole time?"

"Not at first. I think it was a year ago that I realized we were just pretending. In my heart and head I broke up with him then, and that's where a lot of my angsty songs came from for this tour." She sighed. "But you don't want to hear—"

"I do," he promised gently. "Rolling in the Deep?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Wrote it after we had a fight where he threatened to leak my nudes."

"Christ," Oscar groaned. "Anti-Hero?"

"All things he said were wrong with me."

He shook his head, looking out to the sea. "What a fucking cunt."

"It doesn't hurt as much as it did," she admitted.

"It made for some great music, but I'm truly sorry you had to go through that," he said. "No one deserves that."

"Thank you." She watched him watch the city beneath them. "Why do you have to be reminded of who you are?"

"Same as you I reckon. I'm able to do something I love and see the world and I'm so grateful for that, but… Sometimes I feel like it's a dream and it's all gonna be snatched away." He looked at her. "Youngest driver on the grid and all, you know? And I started later than everyone else, so sometimes I worry that I don't have enough experience."

"Like you're faking it," she guessed.

"Exactly. And I'm under scrutiny because of my age, because I did so much before getting here, and…" He sighed, shrugging slightly. "What if I don't meet expectations?"

"So you still think you have to prove yourself?"

"I don't think, I know I do. I haven't had a win yet. The sprint, but that doesn't count. I'm only ever right behind."

"You'll get there."

"You think?" he asked.

"No, I know you will."

They sat in silence for several moments, and she was aware of the time quickly slipping away. Far below she could see Monaco coming to life for the day and clung to the peace on this little mountaintop.

"Who did you write Enchanted for?" he asked.

Her heart thrummed violently in her chest and she followed a boat with her eyes as it pulled into the harbor. "Someone special."

"Ah."

"Has there ever been anyone you admired? That you didn't know but you knew of and you built them up in your mind?"

"…Yeah."

She could feel his eyes on her but she kept her gaze on the harbor. "He's that for me. And I was worried that it would be like it sometimes is, where I'd meet him and it would be a letdown. But… It wasn't. I was… Enchanted. And I'm only more so every time I see him."

"Does he know?"

"I hope he does," she whispered.

"He sounds like a lucky guy."

"I don't think he thinks he's lucky. Pretty sure he thinks he's worried he won't meet expectations," she murmured.

He was silent for eleven seconds. Y/n knew because she counted them, each one feeling like an hour. And then… "What about Charles?"

"He's enchanting too, but in a different way."

"Y/n?"

She swallowed hard and slowly turned her head to look at him.

"I built you up in my mind, too."

"Was it a letdown?" she asked, too scared of his answer to exhale.

"I wouldn't be here if it was," he said in a rush.

She awoke as soon as his alarm started. Behind her he sighed, pressing his face tighter against her neck. When she reached for his phone he groaned, catching her hand and holding it to her chest. "Charles… Time to get up."

"No," he sighed.

"It's quali day," she enticed, slipping her hand free and stretching to silence the alarm. He didn't budge and she laughed softly.

"I like it right here."

She was still a little surprised that he hadn't even attempted to have sex the night before. After their talk he'd kissed her sweetly then given her one of his shirts to change into. Then, he'd held her. He was still holding her, as he had all night.

"Ten more minutes?" he whispered.

Y/n nodded, because she did love the comfort of being in his arms. She contemplated setting a timer just in case they went back to sleep, but felt his lips against her skin and understood he didn't want ten minutes more of sleep. His hand slid down and he huffed softly when he felt Leo curled up in front of him.

"Five seconds," he murmured against her shoulder, and she could only giggle softly as he sat up, smoothly pulling Leo from her and sliding out of bed.

She rolled onto her back to stretch, squealing when he was almost immediately returning, lying over her and catching her in a gentle kiss. Stretching her arms above her head, she arched then reached to help him shove the covers away. "Charles," she gasped, legs falling open for him.

He nuzzled her neck with a soft groan, pulling back and leaning away to yank open the nightstand drawer. He was back in seconds, drawing her into a series of kisses that had her growing warm. His fingers trailed down her sides then back up, sliding his shirt up, pulling away long enough to slip it over her head. "Si belle, mon amour."

His hands were everywhere, making it impossible for her to focus on them as they stirred and spread heat, lips meeting hers again when a hand slipped between them. She tried to mirror his touches, felt his cock pressing against her thigh while his fingers traced her slit.

Deepening the kiss, he shifted, slipping the condom into her hand then bracing his hand beside them. His fingers teased briefly and he chuckled breathlessly, lips moving to her ear as he rubbed along her slit, working up to her clit. "So sensible," he whispered after she cried out softly.

"Sensible… Sensitive?" she whispered, her meager French falling apart as his fingers worked her clit so expertly.

"Oui… Une si bonne fille." He nipped at her earlobe and she felt him smile while her hips lifted, pushing tighter against his fingers. Her body flooded with heat and he moved his fingers harder, moaning the words over and over as the wet sounds grew louder.

"Don't stop," she panicked when she felt him leaning back. He gently shushed her, fingers hard and fast on her clit, licking his lips as he looked down. "Fuck, Charles—"

"Yes, ma bonne fille," he encouraged. "Cum for me, hm? Let me hear you."

She was almost ashamed of how quickly she came once he said the words, her hips lifting off the bed as she screamed for him. His fingers eased while she trembled, then slid away, his hand gently gripping her hip. One breathless kiss later his hand slid over hers and she hummed, reaching to help him put on the condom.

There was a brief fumbling as he settled between her legs, his hands running up and down her legs. He breathed in to speak, but she only heard Leo's soft whine from outside the bedroom door. Charles exhaled harshly, head dropping to her shoulder when she giggled. "Fuck, Leo."

"Sorry," she kept giggling, tangling her fingers in his hair.

"Will your Oscar be jealous too?" he murmured, and her laughter stopped at once.

"He's not my—" She gasped, head falling back, as he entered her.

"I don't mind sharing." He spoke directly against her ear, hands gentle on her thighs, fucking her slow.

"Really?" She was surprised but wasn't, and she wished he'd told her this when he wasn't buried inside her, because that made it a little hard to think properly.

"Yes, mon couer," he moaned, lips pressed to her ear. His hands gripped her thighs tightly as she arched and whined, his lips dragging down her neck when she threw her head back.

"Charles," she gasped, tightening her hold on his hair. He lifted his head, chuckling softly as he leaned to meet her lips with his.

"Again, amour." One hand shot up, gently cupping her throat as he thrust harder.

"Oh my god," she squealed, digging her nails in his back.

"Is good?' he whispered and when she gasped out a yes he kissed her deeply, swallowing her cries. The world seemed to stand still while his lips and tongue worked hers with perfection, thick moans rising up his throat. Her hands moved up and she mirrored the tenderness he was showing her, lightly running her fingers up the back of his head, other hand gently cradling his cheek. Squeezing her eyes shut, she let out a sharp cry as she came. And could only gasp into his mouth, hands trembling, as he came a few moments later.

Finally she recognized the ringing in her ears as her phone going off with texts. Groaning, she tried to focus Charles and his sweet kisses, pouting a little when he pulled out.

"You are too popular to have your ringer on," he teased, grabbing her phone off the nightstand and setting it next to her. "Tell her we're getting ready."

She nodded, stretching and humming before picking up her phone. Like him, she assumed the texts were from her assistant. Unlocking the phone, she sighed as Charles stayed over her after throwing away his condom. He must have felt her tense when she read the texts, because he made a questioning hum, sitting upright.

"Not y/bff/n?" he asked.

She sighed, turning the phone so he could read the texts. He scoffed, muttering rapidly under his breath in French and Italian and though she wasn't sure what the Italian was she knew the French and agreed with him calling her ex a crybaby bitch.

"Send him a photo."

About to block the asshole, she stopped, staring up at him. "What?"

"Send him a photo, mon couer."

Without thinking, she snapped a picture of Charles, enjoying his warm laugh while she cropped it and sent it to Justin. She showed it to him and he only laughed harder.

ynyln

Liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, landonorris, and others

ynyln: I'm at the age I can date you or your dad 💋 📷: charles_leclerc

↳landonorris: is this some secret lyric I don't know?            ↳ ynyln: not everything is a lyric, lando            ↳landonorris: it usually is with you            ↳ ynyln: I'm not that bad ↳landonorris: great photo by the way ↳ynyln: thank you sweetie ↳oscarpiastri: amazing shot. Glad you got to see the sunset. Did dad scare you on the yacht?            ↳ynyln: no he was very careful. You were right, it was quite lovely. You'll have to come with us next time            ↳charles_leclerc: you're always welcome            ↳oscarpiastri: it's a date            ↳user3: wtf is going on am I the only one who's confused ↳charles_leclerc: can you?            ↳ynyln: depends on the dad            ↳landonorris: now I'm confused            ↳ynyln: go back to your own comment thread

ynyln

Liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, scuderiaferrari, and others ynyln: Winning one's home race is special. It's more symbolic and emotional than all the other podiums throughout the season. Over the years I have watched grown men cry over the "hometown boy" – and shed more than a few tears myself. But this time, it was extraordinary. Congratulations, Charles. The so-called curse is broken. It was a privilege to meet you, but an honor to get to know the man behind the visor. C'est incroyable, mon amie. ❤️🤍 ↳charles_leclerc: Merci, mon beau porte-bonheur. Tu es incroyable. (liked by author)          ↳ ynyln: I'm not a lucky charm          ↳ charles_leclerc: for me you are ↳ user3: our girl's fallen again 🥺 ↳ oscarpiastri: so incredibly proud of dad           ↳ ynyln: he's proud of you too           ↳ user6: wait what if her post about "you and your dad" was about oscar and charles?            ↳ user7: ok grandma let's get you back in bed

ynyln

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, mclaren, charles_leclerc, and others ynyln: My favorite driver has become one of my favorite people. Your drive and passion are inspiring. You are amazing and I hope you know how proud Team Piastri is of you today. My tears were just as much for you as that other guy. Thank you for letting me tag along and annoy you with my singing and bad jokes. Pain au chocolates on me tomorrow. (Maybe no hike though?) 🧡🧡

↳ oscarpiastri: You're one of my favorite people, too. And I'll always say yes to pain au chocolate with you. 🧡      ↳ynyln: Ergo I'm blushing ↳landonorris: Team Piastri?? 😒      ↳ynyln: Don't be jealous ↳mclaren: Your paddock passes for Canada are being delivered tomorrow     ↳ ynyln: 🙏🏻 ↳charles_leclerc: that other guy is proud of him too     ↳ ynyln: ur boy did good 🥹

ynyln

liked by georgerussel63, oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc and others ynyln: Some favorite photos from Monaco week. Amazing doesn't cover it. Thank you, scuderiaferrari, for welcoming me into your fold this week. This week healed me in ways I will never be able to describe. Tagged: charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, landonorris, georgerussel63, lewishamilton

↳scuderiaferrari: You are always welcome to our garage, YN. Truly an honor making your wish come true! ↳landonorris: I'm tagged but there's no photo of me?      ↳ynyln: um you're in the pic with Oscar?      ↳landonorris: you mean my hand??      ↳ynyln: Fine, I'll post the pics I got of you sleeping.      ↳landonorris: No!      ↳mclaren: YES ↳oscarpiastri: It was enchanting to meet you      ↳ynyln: I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home      ↳user3: WHAT      ↳oscarpiastri: This was the very first page, not where our storyline ends      ↳ynyln: My thoughts will echo your name until I see you again      ↳user4: WHAT IS GOING ON ↳georgerussel63: Blimey slide 3 is a good photo      ↳ynyln: I spent the week playing my favorite game: Formula One driver or European model? ↳lewishamilton: Lunch this week?      ↳ynyln: Only if you bring Roscoe ↳user5: the drivers really said "YN belongs to us now"|↳charles_leclerc: Monaco is lonely without you. Revient bientôt, chérie.      ↳ynyln: compter les jours      ↳user4: oh he's down BAD

oscarpiastri has added to their story

[caption: miss you already] replies: ↳landonorris: um mate? ↳ynyln: i'm literally right beside you ↳mclaren: delete immediately [story no longer available]

charles_leclerc has added to their story

[caption: ❤️❤️❤️] replies: ↳ynyln: stop i'm gonna cry - when did you take this?? ↳scuderiaferrari: you have to delete this      ↳charles_leclerc: No ↳maxverstappen1: why does everyone have sexual pictures of her?      ↳charles_leclerc: because we are lucky

Taglist:

@lichterfee | @formulaal | @a-beaverhausen | @dullypully | @wobblymug | @apollosfavkiddo | @callsignwidow | @saachiep81 | @midnights-lily | @waterlilypat | @kiwi43-81 | @fastfactory |

[magnetic-rose]

if you loved episode 3 of tlou you really should listen to the official podcast with troy baker, craig mazin and neil druckmann because there’s SO much! here’s some of my favorite things said on the podcast:

- joel stacking rocks was to show that he missed and mourned tess. in that moment he was saying “i’m sorry, i blew it, i lost you.”

- in the beginning of the episode ellie told joel tess’ death wasn’t her fault but deep down she does feel like it was her fault.

- ellie admires joel because he protected her multiple times and as a child she has a desire for a parental figure to protect her.

- frank realized bill was gay pretty much as soon as he got out of the hole and saw how bill was looking at him. bill’s taking in how handsome frank is and “frank’s brain is incredibly attuned to that.” that’s why frank was smiling.

- frank realized bill was gay fast, but he realized he wanted bill when bill was playing the piano and singing linda ronstadt.

- it took them a while to find long long time by linda ronstadt but they always intended the song for bill to sing to be about a long love that was forever unrequited. “it was very important that the lyrics were someone saying ‘everyone tells me that it’s okay, that love will find me [...],’ no it doesn’t, no it’s not, and the person that i long for from afar - i’m gonna love them basically forever in the most unrequited manner.”

- it was important that frank immediately knew bill’s sexuality because frank SAW bill, because bill had completely buried his sexuality but frank saw through him.

- frank originally was trying to see what he could get out of bill (like a free lunch) but the more time they spent together, the more he went “oh, this is a beautiful person.”

- “there is two ways of loving things. frank wants to love outwards - he is sun, he is light. he wants to make things beautiful around him, he wants to care for bill, he wants to revitalize the streets so it’s not just this mausoleum bill lives in, and he wants to have friends. he wants to share what they have. and bill wants to put an electrified fence around them that is guarded by an additional layer of flame-throwing gas pipes and no one can show up ever because he must protect frank from the world... and as it turns out, both of those loved are required but one of those loves is likely to give you in trouble more than the other.”

- when frank put his finger on the furniture piece and saw how dusty it was, he realized what his purpose could be in bill’s life. bill can protect them, but frank can nurture their home.

- when bill apologizes to frank for growing old fast, it’s because he’s afraid of frank being left alone. “look at this beautiful man and the beautiful things that he does, and what is bill’s contribution? bill doesn’t grow strawberries. bill’s contribution is to keep frank alive. but bill is already afraid that he’s going to fail and that is a fear that joel has because he has that fear through experience [of losing his daughter.]“

- bill and joel understand each other and that they’re purpose is to protect others. they don’t care about their own lives.

- on their last day together, bill decided very early that he was going to die as well.

- the gun that ellie takes belonged to frank.

- that letter bill wrote reminded joel that he failed to protect both sarah and tess. the letter underscores for him that no matter how hard he tries, he can’t protect the people that he cares about. but now he has ellie to protect.

[okaerina]

⠀ ⠀ ( 𝒜rticle ) ̨ 𝒞RUSH! ୨୧ 一 엔하이픈 ՞

SIMP! enhypen x CRUSH! reader GENRE! fluff, crack, mutual pining, idiots in love TW! not proof read, lowercase intended A/N! anon rqs WC! 890 NOW PLAYING! . . . xo ( only if you say yes ) by enhypen ──   💭 ࿔

𖠗 HEESEUNG .ᐟ

somwhat awkward but confident. he thinks he's pretty mature in terms of romance but when he is with you his brain short circuits so hard he has to grip on something to not faint. but he's a great listener, he will listen to your rants, anything that's been bothering you. he listens so attentively humming and interacting. writes songs dedicated to you and serenades you by singing them !!! you are literally his muse atp, he notes down every little detail about and absolutely adores them. he's all giggles and blushy with you hehe. he dreams of playing video games with lmao.

𖠗 JAY .ᐟ

pretty mature and a bit shy. i feel like jay would be the most mature one amongst enhypen. he's also a bit shy too but tries to overcome it. he's loaded as hell so do expect expensive gifts and bouquets more often. another great listener. he's also a very great adviser, he's wise and thoughtful. very (+infinity) dependable and reliable. he's always there to help you out, cooks you meals and encourages you to eat more. very polite and understanding your parents will definitely approve of him. plays you a song he wrote for you as a way of confessing. lots of fancy outings and always pays first ^^

𖠗 JAKE .ᐟ

so super sweet and shy. when jake likes someone he tends to get touchy with them but when it's you hell he can't even look up at your face (he swears up and down that he loves you). stutters alot when talking to you and you just can't help but chuckle at his cuteness (he dies pls stop). tries to help you out with everything, even if he doesn’t take the class he still tries to learn a thing or two so he could help you out oh! you'd also start seeing him in your classes. lots of study sessions where he's most of the time gawking at you and always getting caught doing it lmao. rants about physics and layla to you alot! makes a lego bouquet for you.

𖠗 SUNGHOON .ᐟ

very hyper confident and delusion. he's good looking, loaded, has nice personality, fame and fans - everything you could ask for he's got it all so what's stopping you from liking him? he deludes himself into thinking that you'll fall in love with him just like any other girl but you don’t (sike) he goes ''huh wait what but i thought'' cue courting era of park sunghoon. never in his life he imagined he'd have to court someone but you’re not just someone you’re special, you’re his one and only true lovd. gets unexpectedly shy with you, hides his face and giggles. he realizes you’ve officially unlocked a new persona of sunghoon reserved just for you.

𖠗 SUNOO .ᐟ

he's so popular and friendly with everyone that you thought he was being just friendly to you the entire time sheesh. he has to restart his plans and just ends up telling you he has romantic feelings for you. then you'd start seeing the subtle difference between him around you vs around others. you noticed how he would like to listen to you speak when he was hyper yapper. always wants spend alone time with you. "hm im sorry i need to hang out with my girl" plans everything from the date spot to how it end. loves to plan outfits with you. skincare nights! always make sure that you eat well. takes lots of pictures of you without you knowing (not in a creepy way). will clap back at anyone and everyone for you.

𖠗 JUNGWON .ᐟ

pretty chill about it tbh. you'd have no idea he's got something for you yes he's that good at hiding. a fake-scenario maniac, daydreams about you a lot and giggles like a maniac (oof the weird stares). looks your contact name every single day. takes advice from his hyungs and literally has a diary related to you, he writes about you, to you. approaches in the most random way, "you know i have a dog..." very caring, always stands by your side. your biggest defender. once you two start chatting he will send you random videos of him playing in the park when the entire country is asleep.

𖠗 NI-KI .ᐟ

he may put up a bad-boy chill sigma look but is straight up awkward and goofy (?) almost tsundere. literally fumbles at your sight, his legs comically jiggling he has to lean on something to hold himself up. he will try to first ignore these stupid feelings that tarnishes his cool image, making his heart quesy. but gives up when he notices he's fallen badly in love. messes up every single time he tries to woo you. like that one time he tried to flirt with you, the moment you turned towards him, he forgot what he memorized to say. the next few sentences he tried to utter were filled with nothing but stutters and awkward pauses. nevertheless you still found him so endearing. girl trust me if you were ever to say yes he'd probably faint then and there. is so soft and lovey-dovey with you that others had to double take like that's the giant ahh intimidating nishimura riki?!?! huge girlfriend privileges for you :)

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ

[oofthwoods]

CHAPTER ONE! ── ˙ ̟ bring home the glory !!

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 :: "what is a legacy? it's planting seeds in a garden you never get to see. i wrote some notes at the beginning of a song someone will sing for me". | a victorious journey always begins with a death and an offer.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 :: funerals, grief and death. if you don't feel comfortable with these themes, go straight to the part after 2023. you won't lose much, i promise! the second part is somehow based on right hand man from hamilton, don't ask about it. this is pretty much a prologue number two tbh, but i still hope you enjoy it.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 :: 3.2k

⭠ previous masterlist next ‭→

2021

In the solemn setting of the cemetery, the sun hung in the sky, seemingly unaware of the grief below. Its golden rays contrasted sharply with the darkness consuming your soul, each beam of light piercing through the heavy clouds of sorrow. As tears streaked your face, the warmth of the sun felt out of place, a painful reminder of the world's indifference to your shattered heart.

Standing beside the graveside, you looked up to the sky, seeking solace in its vastness. But the heavens offered no comfort, no relief from the ache within. You wondered why the sky remained clear, why it didn't reflect the storm of emotions raging inside you. Its serene blue expanse seemed to mock your devastation, its unwavering indifference amplifying your pain.

Your mother and her siblings stood ahead, their shoulders bowed under the weight of grief, their sobs a haunting melody that echoed through the air. But you stood alone, isolated in your sorrow, drowning in memories that threatened to consume you whole.

Memories of your grandfather flooded your mind like a deluge, each one a bittersweet reminder of the love you had lost. His laughter, once a source of joy and comfort, now felt distant and painful, a cruel reminder of all that had been taken from you. His stories, his wisdom, his gentle touch — they all seemed like distant echoes of a life that was slipping further and further away with each passing moment.

You recalled his final moments, the frailty of his form, the sadness in his eyes as he whispered his last words to you. "Be proud of who you are," he had said, his voice barely a whisper, his breath brushing against your cheek. "And never forget where you come from. Your roots are your strength, my dear." His words had been a lifeline in the storm of your grief, a reminder of the legacy he had left behind, of the love that would endure long after he was gone.

As you stood beside his grave, the words offered little solace. They felt empty, a faint reminder of the warmth once found in his embrace. You longed to reach out to him, to feel the warmth of his touch one last time, to beg for just a moment more in his comforting presence. But he was gone, lost to you forever in a world that seemed infinitely colder and darker without him.

You closed your eyes, allowing the tears to fall freely as you whispered your silent goodbyes to him, each word a prayer for his eternal peace. But even as you spoke, you knew that no amount of tears could ever hope to fill the void he had left behind, that no words could ever hope to capture the depth of your loss.

As you stood there, lost in your grief, the soft sound of footsteps approached from behind. You turned to see your mother returning, her eyes red and swollen from tears, her expression etched with the same pain that weighed heavily on your own heart. For a moment, you simply stood there, sharing a silent understanding born from the depths of your shared sadness.

Without a word, she wrapped you in a gentle hug, her arms providing solace amidst the whirlwind of emotions swirling around you. "I'm not sure I can go on without him, Mom," you murmured, your voice barely audible as you buried your face against her shoulder.

Her embrace tightened, her fingers gently combing through your hair. "I feel the same way, sweetheart. But we have to find strength, for his sake," she whispered softly, her words tinged with a mixture of sadness and determination.

As you leaned into her embrace, the weight of your grief seemed to press down upon you, threatening to crush you beneath its relentless force. Your mother's presence briefly brought comfort, like a delicate lifeline amidst the stormy sea of emotions swirling inside you.

"I miss him so much already," you confessed with your voice trembling. "It feels like a part of me is missing, like I'll never be whole again."

Her arms tightened around you, a silent reassurance that you were not alone. "I know, my love. I do too," she whispered, her voice thick with unshed tears. "He was the heart of our family, the glue that held us together."

A bittersweet silence fell between you, punctuated only by the soft rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. Memories of your grandfather danced through your mind like flickering candle flames, casting shadows of laughter and love against the walls of your grief-stricken heart.

"Do you think he's watching over us?" you asked quietly, your voice barely a whisper in the stillness of the evening.

Her hand stilled against your hair. "I'd like to think so," she replied, her voice wavering with uncertainty. "I'd like to believe that he's found peace, that he's somewhere out there, looking down on us with love in his heart."

Tears welled in your eyes as you imagined him, a silent guardian in the heavens above, watching over you with a warmth that transcended the boundaries of life and death. "I hope he knows how much we love him," you whispered, your words a fervent prayer whispered into the vast expanse of the sky.

"I'm sure he does, my dear," she murmured, her voice soft with tenderness. "And I know that wherever he is, he'll always be with us, guiding us through the darkness, lighting our way with the love that he left behind."

As your mother's words gently washed over you, a sudden movement caught your eye. In the corner of your vision, a flash of royal blue fluttered amidst the solemn surroundings. You blinked, momentarily startled, before fixing your gaze on the delicate creature that alighted on a nearby branch.

A small gasp escaped your lips as you beheld the bird, its feathers shimmering like fragments of the sky woven into living form. With a heart full of wonder, you watched as it stretched its wings, basking in the fading light of the evening sun.

"We can leave now, if you're ready, sweetheart." her mother murmured, delicately turning her daughter's face to meet her own. 

As your mother looked into your eyes, you could see the sadness reflecting in them, speaking volumes on its own. Although she softly hinted that you could go if you wished, it was evident that she longed for some respite from the weight of your mutual grief. Beneath her calm demeanor, you sensed her vulnerability, a silent plea to escape the overpowering sorrow surrounding you both. With a simple nod, you silently agreed.

With a mix of sadness and resolve, you followed your mother's lead, letting her guide you away from the graveside and back into the world. While you walked together, a quick look back caught your attention, drawing your eyes to the scene you were departing. And there, on top of the gravestone, sat the blue bird, its colorful feathers standing out against the solemn surroundings.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still as you watched the bird, a silent sentinel overlooking the final resting place of your beloved grandfather. He seemed to look at you, and, if birds could smile, you would swear he did.

2023

You find yourself standing outside a closed door, your hand hesitantly reaching out to lightly tap against the wood. The muffled voices from within only add to your uncertainty, but the urgency of speaking with the team principal before the Abu Dhabi sprint pushes you to take action. Whatever discussion awaits behind that door must be significant enough to pull you away from your pre-race meeting with the mechanics.

In the stillness of the hallway, time seems to stretch endlessly as you wait for a response that never comes. With a mixture of nerves and anticipation coursing through your veins, you finally muster the courage to grasp the doorknob. Its cool metal provides a fleeting sense of reassurance as you turn it slowly, the hinges creaking softly in protest as the door swings open to reveal the dimly lit room beyond.

Inside, seated at a table, is Mr. Vowles, engrossed in conversation. Your presence at the threshold goes unnoticed for a moment until you gather your resolve and speak up, your voice barely above a whisper as you address him.

"Mr. Vowles, did you need to see me?" you venture, your words hanging in the air with a hint of uncertainty.

At the sound of your voice, James looks up, his expression softening into a welcoming smile.

"Williams, come in," he says, his warm tone instantly easing your nerves as he gestures for you to enter. "Have you met Sargeant?" he continues, motioning towards a figure standing nearby, their presence previously hidden in the shadows of the room.

As James mentions Logan, it's like a floodgate of memories bursting open, whisking you back to the time when you and Logan shared an unbreakable bond. You were inseparable, navigating the twists and turns of life at the academy with laughter, support, and a shared vision of the future.

But as the competition for a spot in Formula One heated up, your friendship began to strain. What started as friendly competition slowly morphed into something more complicated. The pressure mounted, and with it came a subtle shift in your relationship. Each race seemed to drive a wedge between you, rather than bringing you closer.

It was at the peak of your rivalry that things started to unravel. Every little disagreement or perceived slight seemed to fester, poisoning the once vibrant atmosphere between you. Despite your efforts to keep up appearances, there was an underlying tension that threatened to fracture your bond.

When Logan secured a seat at Williams while you remained in F2, a whirlwind of emotions swept over you. Of course, you were genuinely happy for him, but there was also a pang of envy and disappointment gnawing at your heart. It felt like a piece of your own dream slipping away, leaving you grappling with a sense of loss you couldn't quite shake.

And then, just when you thought things couldn't get any more complicated, James hinted at the possibility of you stepping into Logan's shoes. The idea of replacing your friend-turned-competitor added another layer of complexity to an already tangled web of emotions. It was a constant battle between your ambition and the fear of losing the one person who had been by your side through it all.

"Yes, sir," you respond, choosing a simple response. Logan's gaze meets yours, seeming to ignite with intensity. "We keep on meeting"

In a deliberate choice of silence, Logan sidestepped any engagement with you, his eyes fixed on the team leader instead. "As I was just saying," he began, his voice brimming with confidence, "I truly believe that with these adjustments, I can improve my control over the car."

James reciprocated Logan's smile, though his gaze hinted at a wandering mind. "Sargeant?" he interrupted, signaling a shift in focus to another pressing matter.

"Yes, sir?" Sergeant replied promptly, ready for further instructions.

"We'll talk about this later. Close the door on your way out," James commanded, his tone decisive, drawing their exchange to a close.

As Logan's footsteps faltered on his way out, a pang of unease settled in your chest. You couldn't shake the guilt that crept in, knowing your success might come at the cost of his dreams.

In the relentless world of Formula One, sentimentality was a luxury few could afford. You grappled with the harsh reality that success often meant sacrificing the dreams of others. It was a something you had grappled with since the beginning of your journey, one that forced you to confront the truth that in this fiercely competitive arena, there would always be someone waiting in the wings to take your place if you faltered.

As you redirected your focus towards James, the man who now held the reins of your family's team, you couldn't help but reflect on the rarity of such a moment. Conversations with him had been few and far between, a testament to the typical hierarchy within Formula One teams where direct interaction between a team leader and a junior driver, especially mere hours before a pivotal race, was uncommon.

“Have I done something wrong, sir?” You ventured, a tinge of uncertainty coloring your tone.

"Not at all, quite the opposite actually," James responded, rising from his seat and leaning casually against the table, his arms folded. "Your stats this season are impressive—seven wins, numerous podium finishes. You've got a bright future ahead of you. But here's the thing, every day I see offers come across my desk to buy out your contract, and frankly, I find it amusing."

"Uh, sorry, I'm not following," you admitted, furrowing your brow in confusion.

"Williams, why is it that no team seems to be able to snag you?" James clarified, a hint of curiosity lacing his words. "You're undeniably talented, but turning down offers from big names like Alpine and Alpha Tauri might not be the smartest move."

"To drive their tractor, or worse, become a reserve driver? I don't think so." you remarked with a disbelieving smirk.

"Think about it, a spot at Alpha Tauri could open doors at Red Bull down the line," James suggested, attempting to sway your perspective.

"Everyone knows they have their sights set on Daniel Ricciardo, or Liam Lawson at best" you countered, a note of frustration creeping into your voice. "I'm a bit lost here. Why are you laying all this out for me?" you questioned, a perplexed furrow creasing your brow. You knew full well the offers on the table and why you were declining them. James likely wasn't in the dark about your reasons either.

"I'm just being honest with you," He replied, his tone carrying a hint of earnestness. His hand reached up to rub his forehead, fingers tracing over the lines etched there as if seeking solace in the familiar. "We're on a tight budget," he explained, a touch of resignation in his voice. "We're short on engineers and mechanics compared to almost everyone else, except maybe Haas and Sauber. While we've made progress since last year, I can't promise our car will match up to the competition next season."

James lifted his gaze, fixing it upon you with a mixture of earnestness and concern. "I'm not one to squander talent. I know you've got your reasons for sticking with us, and I'm grateful for the opportunity to have you on board. But I can't move forward without ensuring you understand exactly what you're signing up for."

"I'm just asking for a shot, James. Just one chance to prove that we've still got what it takes," you implored, your words tinged with determination. Images of past triumphs flickered through your mind, a reminder of the team's glory days.

With a weary smile, James let out a soft sigh. "Seems like sheer tenacity runs in the family, huh?"

"They used to say I took after my grandmother," you remarked casually, a wistful grin playing on your lips.

Turning to the desk, the man retrieved a piece of paper from a drawer, his movements deliberate and measured. "What are the odds?"

You knew precisely what he was referring to. "Iwasa's already out of the running. If I take the sprint, I'll have enough points to clinch the championship."

Extending the contract towards you, James presented it as if unveiling a glimpse of what lay ahead. "Win this championship, and the seat is yours."

The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, mingling with the anticipation that crackled between you. With the contract poised like a tantalizing promise, the room seemed to hold its breath.

You reached out tentatively, fingers hovering over the document that held the potential to shape your future. The paper felt crisp beneath your touch.

"I know it's a risk, trading one rookie for another" James conceded, his voice tinged with a hint of apprehension. "But I believe in you, and I need someone who believes in this team."

A surge of determination coursed through your veins, bolstered by James's unwavering faith. "I won't let you down," you vowed, your voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in her chest.

"TO TOP OFF AN INCREDIBLE SEASON, Y/N WILLIAMS WINS THE ABU DHABI SPRINT AND HAS ENOUGH POINTS TO CROWN HERSELF A CHAMPION." The narrator's voice reverberated through the sprawling circuit, amplifying the momentous declaration that crowned your achievement.

The roar of victory surged through the airwaves as your race engineer's voice erupted over the radio, a symphony of celebration. "You did it, Williams! Formula 2 champion, with one race to spare!"

Amidst the cacophony of cheers echoing from Rodin Carlin's garage, you felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins, the weight of your accomplishment settling upon your shoulders like a mantle of triumph. Your mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions, a torrent of exclamations, gratitude, and tears that threatened to overwhelm your senses.

As you gradually eased the car to a decelerating pace, you couldn't help but feel the swell of pride and disbelief wash over you. With trembling hands, you lifted them skyward in a gesture of reverence, a silent tribute to the one who had inspired you journey.

"This one's for you, grandpa," you murmured, your voice a whisper against the backdrop of roaring engines and jubilant cheers. "I hope you're proud up there."

Amidst the jubilant chaos enveloping the pit lane, your thoughts swirled like a tempestuous storm, each emotion vying for dominance in the tumult of your mind. As you joined in the exultant cheers of your team, a sense of disbelief mingled with elation, the reality of your victory sinking in with each heartbeat.

In the midst of the celebration, you couldn't help but steal a moment to glance towards the podium, where your destiny awaited. The anticipation pulsed within you, a heady mixture of excitement and nervous energy propelling youforward.

As you ascended to the highest step, each stride felt like a triumph, a testament to the countless hours of dedication and sacrifice that have led you to this pinnacle moment. Your mind hummed with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, a kaleidoscope of memories and aspirations swirling in the depths of your consciousness.

The thunderous roar of the crowd enveloped you like a tidal wave, the sound of applause echoing in your ears as you stand upon the podium, bathed in the radiant glow of the spotlight. Your chest swells with pride, your heart beating in time with the pulsating energy of the spectators.

Locking eyes with James amidst the sea of faces, you feel a surge of excitement washing over you. There's a silent understanding that passes between you, a shared recognition of the journey you will embark upon together. In that fleeting moment, as your gazes meet, you know with a certainty that transcends words— you'll be signing that contract.

With a triumphant smile, you raise the championship trophy high above your head, the weight of your accomplishment buoyed by the unwavering support of your team and your unyielding belief in yourself.

And in the middle of the bustling paddock, a blue bird chirped happily, swooping towards the girl as she lifted the trophy high. It appeared as though he'd be sticking around a while longer.

taglist (tell me if you want to be added or removed <3 | italic means i couldn't tag you) :: @formulanni @clownrrari @leilanixx @notyouraveragemochii @alliwantisadonut @oooom4rie @watermelon-sugars-things @glitterquadricorn @minkyungseokie @formulaal @itsjustkhaos @thebearchives @hiireadstuff @laura-naruto-fan1998 @cptg00s3 @welovediaaxx @eugene-emt-roe @cha-hot

[revelboo]

revel i really love how everything you wrote is connected to eachother in some way its actually so satisfying to read from the very first post and read from there! feels like seeing the bigger picture!

I try to connect the IDW fics or TFP fics to each other when possible, because it makes it more fun for me. This one is a bit earlier than intended, but the reblog tags for the last Jazz bit were killing me 😭

Over It Now Pt 9

IDW Jazz x Reader

• Tracking your passage through the house, his optics follow as lights come on, go out until you reach your bedroom and then the house is dark and silent, leaving him with his thoughts. With his oldest and truest companion, self loathing. Your anger spreading like poison through him as he walks to sit under that ancient pin oak in your yard near your window, head tipped back to look at the hints of stars through the leaves and trying to remember before the war. Back when his smile hadn’t been just a convenient mask to hide behind, he’d been a musician. A singer. He’d been happy then, but it’s been a long time since he was that bot. Sometimes it feels like the memory of a ghost, a life that couldn’t possibly be his. Optics shuttering behind his visor, he tries to picture the street, busy with Cybertronians going about their day. The weight of an instrument in his hands, servos dancing over chords.

• Furious with Jazz and yourself, you lay there in the dark and stare at the ceiling. Wondering why you let him get under your skin when you know the likely outcome. If everything is a game to him, then getting close or allowing him close is only going to hurt you in the end. You know that. So why does that crooked little smile keep slipping into your head? You’re angriest because of how you’d felt when he’d held you like that, safe, precious, like you mattered and it hadn’t been real. Because you’re dumb enough to play right into his little game. At first, the sound is so low you almost miss it. Something aside from the hum of the ceiling fan. Singing, the sound so achingly lonely even as the words mean nothing to you. Sliding out of bed, you limp to the window and peek out through the blinds, spotting the glow of Jazz’s visor beneath the tree, his biolights faintly limning his frame. He’s making that bittersweet sound and even if you don’t understand the language, it’s so full of yearning that it hurts.

• It’s not the sort of songs he’d sang on the streets of Iacon or Praxus, something new. Pouring all the poison in him out into the quiet night, all the things he can’t say out loud. The hurt, the loneliness, and the need for someone to see him, to see past the shiny, smiling veneer and realize that no, he’s not okay. Hasn’t been for a long time. The song sinks its claws into him, a stream of longing and grief, every word a new chain pulling him down with their weight. Because no one really sees him. They never have. Their needs forging him into this so he can do what needs to be done. No matter the cost. A good little spy smiling instead of screaming. The touch of a little hand on his ped breaks him from the song, voice faltering. And you’re right there, head down. Crying as you lean on your crutches, crying for him because he can’t and no one else will.

• You can’t stop crying, because that song is a living thing twisting inside you, all sweetness and barbed wire. This is something real, not a lie and it hurts more than a song should. Then he’s leaning forward, a servo tipping your chin up and then sliding over your cheek. “Sorry, doll. Didn’t mean to wake you,” he says voice low, big hand outstretched like he wants to pick you up, pull you into him again. But hesitating. And you grab onto his servos, letting your crutches fall as he catches you, lifts you to cradle against him, big hands tucking your little frame against the warm mesh of his neck. “I’m sorry. I just don’t know how to do this anymore.” Pressing your face against him, you’re not sure what he means by that. Maybe not lying. Maybe being real. But maybe you can help him figure it out.

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[katiascraft]

"Can't believe you've noticed me" | LH44

Parings: Lewis Hamilton x reader.

Summary: at the beach in the golden hour, Lewis decides to show you a song he wrote for you.

Now playing: "Notice me - acoustic" by ROLE MODEL.

Word count: +800 words.

Warnings: none. Pure fluff. Not English native speaker so there could be errors. Non proofread.

a/n: Lewis has always had my heart 💌 not forget to like or reblog! And also follow me so we can be friends (and eventually share mate!) :3

MASTERLIST

You and Lewis were on vacation. It was golden hour and you were just talking by the beach. He brought his guitar and was playing it softly and smoothly.

He looked so beautiful and handsome under the sunlight. The sound of the ocean waves involved you two. You were at peace.

You grabbed the sun lotion and re applied it to your already bronzed skin.

“Babe… can I sing you a song I wrote a while ago? I think it’s time for you to listen to it” he said sweetly looking at you while you adjusted your cap again after applying the lotion.

You looked at him with a huge smile. You loved that side of Lewis. The one that connected with art and showed his vulnerability. His insides. You loved Lewis so dearly. He was the love of your life. You admired him so much. You nodded and he smiled. That smile that always melts your heart. You got comfortable and provided all of your attention to him and only him. You could see he got a bit nervous but tried to keep it cool.

He started singing.

Talk dirty, you got your hand in my jeans

You're perfect, and everything in between

Mm, yeah, keep moaning, 'cause we're making a scene

Keep going, until they tell us to leave

You listened to him carefully knowing how important this was for him. You couldn’t control biting your lip for what he was talking about. His voice so smooth and sweet. You already loved it.

Let's dance when we're not supposed to be

Can't stand when you're not close to me

Damn, can't believe you notice me, notice me

So let's dance when we're not supposed to be

Can't stand when you're not close to me

Damn, can't believe you notice me, you notice me

Your heart was beating fast as he continued with the song. It’s the cutest thing someone wrote to anyone. He is so perfect. You could see how concentrated he was on the string of his guitar. His fingers pushed every chord confidently. He didn’t look at you. It would make him forget the lyrics. You are always so mesmerizing to him.

Only thought I'd have you in my dreams

Things you say leave me feelin' weak

And those brown eyes of yours are all that I need

And you whisper that I'm all that you see

Your insides were screaming. He looked at you straight in the eyes while singing the second verse. Butterflies all over you stomach. You felt daydreaming. But it was real. Lewis was there singing a song he wrote for you.

Let's dance when we're not supposed to be

Can't stand when you're not close to me

Damn, can't believe you notice me, notice me

So let's dance when we're not supposed to be

Can't stand when you're not close to me

Damn, can't believe you notice me, you notice me

And I won't let this go, never fell this hard

Always had bad luck, never got this far

And I won't let this go, never fell this hard

Always had bad luck, never got this far

You couldn’t help but let go of a few tears. You are always so sensitive. Lewis loved that about you. You felt things so deeply just like him. The empathy between you two was hard to match. You were just perfect for each other. A match made in heaven. He smiled widely when he saw your tears. That melted his heart completely. You were the love of his life. The first person who ever made him feel on the edge. You were so beautiful. You were his muse. His everything. Life wouldn’t be the same without you. He wouldn’t be him without you.

So let's dance when we're not supposed to be

Can't stand when you're not close to me

Damn, can't believe you notice me, notice me

So dance when we're not supposed to be

Can't stand when you're not close to me

Damn, can't believe you notice me, you notice me

When the song finished he giggled a little because you were clapping so excitedly for him. He found it so cute. You were so happy at that moment - so in love with him. No one would ever compare to him and the way he makes you feel.

“So… did you like it?” He asked shyly, blushed.

“If I liked it? I loved it, baby. I’m so in love with you. I really admired you Lewis. You’re amazing darling” you said excited and sweet getting closer to give him a kiss that killed him right there and then.

He loved being yours. And he loved you were all his.

You kissed fondly, wrapping your arms around his neck guitar in between you. He smiled on your lips. You make him so happy. He stocked your thighs gently.

“I love you my love. Thank you for noticing me and love me. I’m the luckiest guy in the world” he told you forehead to forehead brushing your noses. You couldn’t help but smile so widely.

In fact, you are the luckiest girl too.

——————————————————————————————

Hope you liked it 💌 if you have any ideas my inbox is open so send some requests!

[foone]

I love finding out there's weird drama behind a song.

So, in 1967, a french songwriter named Jacques Revaux composes as song called "Comme d'habitude" (As Usual) with lyrics by Claude François and Gilles Thibaut. Claude François releases a version with him singing it, and it's enough of a hit that some music execs are trying to get someone to do an English version.

David Bowie's publisher happened to share an office with another publisher who brings in the record, and Bowie's publisher suggests Bowie could sing it. Bowie's manager thinks it's a sure-fire hit: He thinks Bowie is a good singer and lyricist, but not so good a composer, so by using the music of Jacques Revaux and Bowie's lyrics and voice, it'll easily sell lots of copies.

Bowie writes new lyrics, calls his version "Even a Fool Learns to Love", and records a demo in 1968. The French publishers of the original song turn him down, however: They want some big name singer if they're gonna sell the rights, not some unknown "David Bowie" guy (Space Oddity wouldn't be until 1969, so he wasn't a star yet, especially internationally).

So Paul Anka enters the picture, after hearing the song on French radio while on holiday. He's been a successful songwriter since the 50s, and he's a big enough star that the publishers of "Comme d'habitude" agree to sell him the rights (for 1 dollar. But Jacques Revaux's label retains the rights to the music, so they get royalties).

He then has a meeting with a singer and "some mob guys". The singer says he's getting out of the music business, he's sick of it. Paul Anka rewrites the lyrics to be about that idea: at the end of your career, looking back, and not having any regrets. He calls up the singer and offers the song.

in 1969, Frank Sinatra releases "My Way" to immediate success.

And this pisses Bowie off. He was going to release a version of "Comme d'habitude"! He wrote his own lyrics and even recorded it! Reportedly he was angry about this for a year, and decides "screw it, I can write a big song like that!". So he does, makes it sound "a little like My Way", and

So in 1971 he writes "Life on Mars?", as a parody of "My Way" and proof he can write songs like "My Way". It's included on his 1971 album Hunky Dory, and released as a single in 1973.

And since it's considered one of his best songs (as well as one of the best songs of all time), I guess he really succeeded in proving he could do that.

But yeah. Listening to "Life on Mars?" I never would have guessed it was connected to Frank Sinatra's "My Way"

[restinslices]

So that Sektor trailer came out and I’m specifically hooked on more info we got about what happens to Bi-Han when he goes after Havik. There’s a line that Sektor says to Bi-Han: “Bi-Han, can you hear me?” I NEED SOME BI-HAN X READER BASED OFF OF THAT LINE ALONE- you can do whatever you want with it I just thought that would be a cool prompt

Hey anon! For some reason this prompt made me think of the song “Once Upon A Dream”, so here we are.

Bi-Han X GN!Reader

Word Count: 3287

Summary: Using your power to jump into other’s dreams, you jump into Bi-Han’s in hopes of speaking with him. Unfortunately for you, things don’t go as you wanted it to.

Content Warning: Angst, hurt w/ no comfort, Bi-Han fighting demons and them mfs got hands, mean Bi-Han, I wrote this while downing a energy drink

“I know you

I walked with you once upon a dream

I know you

That look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam”

Dreams were a powerful and interesting concept. You always thought so, but perhaps that made sense for someone like you - someone who could manipulate dreams and bend them to your will.

You had seen first hand how dreams could affect someone’s day. A bad one could cause someone to be cranky in the morning, a good one made them awake with a smile, a dream about a lost loved one caused tears to pool in one's eyes. The list went on and on.

Dreams were where people could escape their day to day lives. You were no different. Life had been less than ideal as of late, causing you to look forward to sleeping more than you used to. You wished everyday that you weren’t like this, that you could be happy when you were awake. You tried. You tried so hard, but life was too quiet. There was someone missing. Someone you couldn’t have.

Your longing for him only got worse after your recent encounter with Titan Havik and his ridiculous dreams of chaos.

Him. 

Seeing him after his betrayal… seeing him in such a hateful manner at his own brother’s wedding… then what Havik did to him…

Him.

Why was thinking his name so painful? 

And why were you trying to connect with him like you used to? 

Around you was a dull void. No walls, no solid ground, nothing physical. Just a blackness with an unknown light source coming from above, highlighting your frame. Your body hung in this void. Was this the right choice? Maybe you should just abandon this idea and actually dream.

“Bi-Han, can you hear me?”

Under normal circumstances, Bi–Han would respond to your telepathic message. 

“Yes” he’d say back to you.

Such a simple word, yet you were missing it desperately. There was no response. You’d have to check if he was asleep your own way then.

You closed your eyes and pictured the outline of his body. He had no facial features or any details to him. The inside of his silhouette was a white light, the outline a bright blue. The light dimmed and brightened to the rhythm of his heart.

Thump - Dims

Bump - Brightens

Slow and steady.

Thump-bump… thump-bump… thump-bump…

He was sleeping.

“Bi-Han, can you hear me?”

Of course he could. He was choosing to ignore you. Choosing not to imagine himself putting a letter in a mailbox like you taught him to. This should’ve made you abandon this quest, but instead you imagined his silhouette becoming bigger and bigger, consuming your entire vision until-

Birds singing.

He was dreaming of birds singing?

You opened your eyes once you felt your feet touch solid ground. Of course he’d be with his clan in his dreams. This no longer felt like home to you, but it still was to him. 

Dreams were strange. Brains just threw context at dreamers without actually showing them anything at times. You could feel parts of his dream being absorbed into you like a sponge. Somehow you knew that he was dreaming of his perfect future. You could tell Liu Kang was gone. Maybe he was dead, maybe not, but you just felt it in your bones that he wasn’t a part of this reality.

You willed yourself to find him, creating a blue string to show you the way to him. You tried to ignore your own thumping heart. Tried to ignore the stone warriors Shang Tsung promised Bi-Han staring daggers into you. Tried to force yourself to take slow and deep breaths as you continued on the path.

Then there he was. 

Standing atop a cliff, hands behind his back, watching the beautiful sunset. What Havik made him was gone. He looked like his normal self; same suit, shoes, hair, even the details in his skin were the same. His name left your lips hardly above a whisper, “Bi-Han… it’s me”. 

“I know” his voice came out gruff - so the usual. 

“Did you hear me when I tried to-”

“Yes”.

You had known it, but it hurt like hell having him confirm that he ignored you. You should’ve left, but instead your feet carried you to be at his side. You could see now that he wasn’t watching the sunset. He was watching his clan train, their moves perfect. Abnormally perfect.

You didn’t know what to say. All of this was a last minute decision. You hadn’t practiced some big speech about how much of an asshole he was and how your ring felt heavier on your finger. You had nothing planned. 

“I’ve missed you Bi-Han”.

It was the only thing you could think of. You missed him. Morning, noon, evening, night, you missed him. 

“I’ve missed you dearly. The sun doesn’t feel as warm when you’re not around”.

“So?” he said indifferently. You hadn’t looked up at him, afraid of what you’d see in his eyes.

“Have you-” you swallowed. Did you really wanna know the answer? “Have you missed me?”.

He took a few moments to answer. Once he did though, your heart fell to your stomach. “Why would I?”. Why would he? Because you were his closest friend. Had been ever since you were kids! Or maybe because he had proposed to you. Maybe he should miss you because whenever he talked about his future, you were always in it. He spoke again before you could force out a response, “what do you want from me?”.

You stammered your answer out. His shell was always hard, but never this.”I-I, well- I mean, I wanted to see you”. Your eyes finally looked up but his eyes were still on the people below. He was perfect to look at. Always would be to you. Even his new appearance after Havik was perfect to you. It was perfect because it was him. “I love you-”.

He scoffed, which made you furrow your brows. “Love” he shook his head. “You don’t love me. You are a traitor, and it’s a good thing you’re no longer Lin Kuei. You only dragged us down. Dragged me down”. His words sounded like a mantra. Like he had repeated these words over and over again in his head until it became second nature to say it. It still didn’t stop your mouth from opening slightly in shock. People could call Bi-Han mean all they wanted. He had never ever said such cruel words to you. Even when you made mistakes. His lectures always had care and concern under them. This? This wasn’t right. 

“Why would you say that to me?”.

Only now did he look at you. You expected to see disdain in his eyes. Malice, disgust, fury, something that showed he had no love for you. You saw nothing in his eyes. Just blackness. Coal. Darkness. A void. 

“Why are you still here?”.

“Why did you say that to me?”. He tried to walk away from you but stopped in his tracks when he heard you speak again. “How could you say something like that to me?”.

You heard him take in a deep breath before muttering “don’t do this to yourself”. You hardly even heard him. 

“I love you” you hadn’t realized how softly your words came out. Nor did you see Bi-Han close his eyes due to his back being to you. “I’ve loved you practically all my life. You’re all I’ve been thinking about recently, that’s why I’m here. And- and that’s what you have to say to me?”.

“What do you want me to say?”

“That you love me. Or miss me. Or both”

“Why would I?”

“Because that’s what people who love each other say!” you exclaimed a lot louder than you meant to.

He turned to face you. Damn him! You wanted him to look at you lovingly, then wrap his arms around you and say he loved you too. His stare was hard, mouth in a deep frown, hands at his sides. “Sometimes people say things they don’t mean”.

“Are you serious?” you both could and couldn’t believe him. He was always stubborn but to question your love for him? Despair, anger, betrayal, it all began to bubble inside you. “You don’t think I love you? After all we’ve been through? Has it meant nothing?”. Then another thought crossed your mind. One that made you have to take a deep breath before asking. “Have you found another?”.

“I don’t want another” he responded quietly, which was somewhat odd for him. Not necessarily because it was quiet, but because it was soft. Delicate almost. Then he cleared his throat, “love is a weakness. You’ve shown me that”.

“Bi-”

“Leave”

“No”. You kept your feet firmly against the ground. You wouldn’t be going anywhere. Especially not on this note. You didn’t expect that all your problems would be fixed in one conversion but this couldn't be how tonight ended. “We need to talk-”.

“I don’t want you here!” The sudden rise in his voice made you jump. Was that regret in his eyes? No. It couldn’t be. If he actually felt any remorse, his next words didn’t show it. “I don’t want to speak to you. I don’t want to see you. You are a traitor, meaning that you are dead to me! You were only slowing me down and now? Now I don’t have to worry about you! Enough of this! Leave!”. Your breathing began to speed up, eyes becoming watery, vision blurring. Bi-Han spoke again, his voice quieter this time. “Don’t cr-” he took another deep breath. “I don’t care”. He tried to walk away again.

He got mere feet away before the ground around him rose, trapping the both of you in a wide box. You didn’t know what you felt more. Anger because he had the audacity to yell at you, or sadness because he purposely chose to hurt you. They both bubbled inside you. Your mouth worked a lot faster than your brain. “I have always been by your side” you began, “even as children. Whenever you fell, I was there to help you up. When you needed a laugh, I found any way to make you laugh. When the responsibility of becoming the next Grandmaster felt like a hard burden to carry, I was there to support you”.

“The Bi-Han then was a weak child! I’m older now! I have more challenges!”

“And have I not faced your challenges with you by your side?!” you fully yelled now. Your words were laced with grief and you hoped he could hear it. “When others called you heartless, strict, mean, selfish and whatever else they could think of, I defended you! I always did Bi-Han! I would tell them that you had a huge heart under that hard shell of yours! I would tell them you were strict but loving! That I loved you for a reason! That you genuinely cared for your family!”. All the emotions made you bolder. With each remark, you pointed an accusatory finger at him, stepping closer and closer until you jabbed him in the chest. “I would tell people that I never cared about having children, but if it was with you, I’d consider it! And as more days passed, I wanted it! A family with you was all I wanted! All I want even now!”. It was hard to see his expression. Your vision was too blurry. You thought about wiping your tears away, not wanting to appear weak, but they came too frequently. Your cheeks were already wet. “You can be angry with me. I would be okay with your anger, but do not ever make it seem like I do not love you! I was one of the few people concerned about your safety when you were taken! I carried your body to Liu Kang! I-!”.

A sob passed before you could stop it. You couldn’t stand to look at him. You turned away from him, walking a few inches away, suddenly feeling suffocated. Your chest ached badly. You felt that at any point, your heart would explode, or your throat would get tired of your sobs and decide to close instead, leaving you to die. You covered your mouth with the back of your hand in an attempt to quiet yourself. It worked, but only somewhat. 

With your back to Bi-Han though, you couldn’t see his reaction. You didn’t see his look of confliction, or him clenching and unclenching his fist. You didn’t know how angry he was at himself, because he should’ve hated you for being a traitor, but he just couldn’t. You didn’t know how badly he wanted to comfort you but forced himself not to. He just needed you to leave but you wouldn’t. 

“You betrayed me, do not forget this” he forced himself to say. “I needed you. You, my father, Kuai Liang, Tomas, Liu Kang, you all lack vision! You want me to shackle the Lin Kuei to mediocrity when we could be achieving greatness! No!”. You hadn’t faced him yet. Your bottom lip still trembled. It was humiliating. All this crying on your end and it didn’t even seem like he cared. 

No words were exchanged for a moment. You had to focus on slowing your breathing. What you needed was for him to apologize as he held you. Nothing came. Not even when you walked up to him, putting a hand on his arm in hopes to trigger some hidden affection. 

He took a step back.

You scoffed, then wiped at your eyes again. Your eyes stayed on the floor as you spoke again. “I have spent days and nights thinking about you. Hoping that-” you sniffed, “that you still loved me. I kept hoping that somehow this would all work out and…”.

You couldn’t say it. Everyday you hoped that everything would get better. You’d have each other again. Life would go back to normal, then one day you two would start expanding your family, and when you finally took your last breath, you’d be holding his hand. 

You couldn’t say it out loud. It hurt too much.

“Spare me. Spare me this agony and just say-”

You motioned back and forth between you two hoping he’d get it.

“Say what?”.

You forced it out finally.

“Say you do not love me. Just spare me of this agony and hoping. Just say you do not love me”. Silence passed. You expected that he would just say it right then and there. He didn’t. “Bi-Han please just do this for me”.

More silence.

Then,

“You are a traitor”.

“Fucking shit” you mumbled while wiping your eyes for the millionth time. “Just say it”.

He didn’t. “You were holding me back”.

You looked up at him, though you immediately regretted it. Since when had you gotten so bad at reading him? You tried to guess what he was thinking, but kept drawing a blank. “Please”.

“You left”.

“Bi-Han please”.

Over and over he’d shoot an insult at you, and in response you’d plead with him to say what you needed to hear to hopefully start fully mourning. 

You couldn’t take the back and forth anymore. Why couldn’t he do this one thing for you? Just this one parting gift. “You are so fucking selfish! Why can’t you just be honest with me and say it?!”.

“Why don’t you say it to me?!” he challenged, which was ridiculous to you.

“Not only would I be lying, but I would never wanna hurt you like that! You want me to hurt you the way you hurt me?! Fine!”. You pointed a finger at him, “you are everything that is wrong with you!”. The hardness in his eyes softened. Good. You wanted to see him have some sort of reaction. To hurt as much as you did. “You love to blame me, your father, Kuai Liang, Tomas, anyone for how shitty you can be! You betrayed Earthrealm and your brothers! It isn’t wrong to want a new future, but how you went about it? No, Bi–Han! I wasn’t gonna stand by you as you did something so selfish! You love blaming everyone else and refuse to see that you are in a war by yourself! You scarred your brother! You attacked a wedding and killed innocent people! I am by no means an innocent person. I have made mistakes, and if you have ever genuinely felt like I did not love you, then I’m sorry… but the blood you have on your hands, the blood of innocents and your own” your hand found its way to your chest, your palm feeling your heartbeat under it. “That is not on me”. 

There was no relief after you finished your rant. 

You didn’t feel relief, or satisfaction at the possibility of hurting him. No. You felt terrible. Like you had broken an oath - another one according to Bi-Han -. Once again your gaze tore from his. You shouldn’t have come. This was a mistake. Or perhaps it wasn’t. He hadn’t said the sacred words, but everything else he said was confirmation enough. 

He no longer loved you.

The walls surrounding the both of you collapsed. “You don’t want me here, fine” you forced yourself to say. “I won’t come back”.

“And I know it’s true, that visions are seldom what they seem

But if I know you

I know what you’ll do

You’ll love me at once

The way you did once upon a dream”

The heartache was wet tar, sticking to your skin and refusing to budge. You hoped it would cease sometime soon- dammit. Why did you keep hoping for things? Where had hope gotten you? Hope was foolish to cling onto.

A week passed, and still the pain refused to move. You felt it in everything you did. It made your bones stiff, your movements slow, your focus low, your insides hurt. It was the most diabolical of poisons. 

When a knock against your door filled your ears, you didn’t bother getting up. You simply told them to come in, and although your voice could rival a church mouse, they heard you anyway and came in. “Kuai Liang” you greeted once he came into view.

“Have you been well?”.

At least he didn’t beat around the bush.

“I’ve noticed your recent behavior and-”

“I apologize if I have been lacking, Grandmaster”

Out of respect you got out of bed and bowed. You must’ve been messing up during training, or-

“You have nothing to apologize for” he took a step closer to you, “you seem unhappy. You know you can come to me, right? I’m your friend, family even. Not just your Grandmaster”. Keeping eye contact had become something hard for you. You looked everywhere else when speaking to someone, which was something you hated because it made you feel weaker than you already typically felt.

His hand found your arm. His touch was light, like he worried you would crack if he pressed against you too hard. “Are you okay?”.

There it was. Those three words opened the floodgates, causing you to wrap your arms around his torso and bury your face against his chest as sobs wracked your body. Had he always felt so similar to Bi-Han or was your mind playing tricks on you?

Kuai Liang was the one who held you close, comforting you with his presence alone.

And like a selfish and desperate bastard, you pretended he was Bi-Han.

“But if I know you

I know what you do

You love me at once the way you did once upon a dream”

A/N: Bi-Han angst is my fave genre y'all. It’s always gonna hit. This is a stand alone so uhhh no part 2 :D.

[pedrithink]

delicate ✩ jude bellingham

about: the massive hate you are getting on internet and the way jude stood by you, supporting you.

couple: jude bellingham x reader! singer

request: hey babyyyy! what do u think about a jude x reader (maybe olivia rodrigo fc) ?? xxx love u

face claim: olivia rodrigo

NOW: Jude’s Bellingham talks ‘Real Madrid’, His first World Cup’s impressions & His favorite Y/N’s songs.

comments ⬇️

user1 he’s so perfect 🥹 yn and him seemed like soulmates

user2 I REMEMBERED WHEN YN POINTED AT JUDE DURING GORGEOUS AND HE TOOK A PHOTO AND SHE WAS ALL GIGGLY

user3 yn once said “you’re so gorgeous, it actually hurts” and “they say home is where the heart is, but that's not where mine lives. you know I love a london boy.”

user4 @user3 im yn

user5 imagine being jude bellingham and having yn write her best love songs and best title tracks about you a DREAM

judebellingham has added to their story

ynusername

Liked by judebellingham, selenagomez, and 5.682.972 others

ynusername vampire song and video out now 🧛🏼. writing this song helped me sort through lots of feelings of regret, anger, and heartache. it's one of my favorite songs on the album and it felt very cathartic to finish. im so happy it's in your hands now and I hope it helps u deal with any bloodsuckers in your lite. all my thanks 4ever 🫶🏻

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judebellingham proud of you, vampie 🧛🏼🩸🥹🫶🏻

ynusername @judebellingham love u babs

user1 vampire is one of the best songs ever

user2 another song about another ex 🥱🙄

user3 @user2 literally let people write out their feelings or WHATEVER they want. obviously yall can only attack women for this tho...

user4 people calling yn boring or overrated for writing songs about her ex does not sit right w me …. like let her write about whatever she wants?? she’s 20??? all singers have songs about their ex’s???? stfu

user5 @user4 SPEAK. ON. IT

user6 "yn makes too much songs ab her ex" "all she write is break up songs, she’s so obsessed"

ok then stop listening to her songs 🤷🏻‍♀️

user7 whaaaaat 😭 why are there so many people mad that yn wrote some songs about her ex. meanwhile, there are men who only write songs about fucking hoes and using drugs and yet they still get praised for it 🥱

judebellingham

Liked by ynusername, masonmount, and 7.899.082 others

judebellingham date night with vampie to celebrate all of her achievements, proud of u ❤️‍🩹

View all 34.872 comments

ynusername 🧛🏻‍♀️🩸❤️‍🩹🧛🏼

user8 JUDE CALLING YN VAMPIE >>>>

user9 i hope i find someone who supports me the way jude supports yn

user10 ill always be soft for these two. its amazing how jude supports yn in any way he can and yn never forgets to save jude a seat. fucking POWER COUPLE!!!

user11 @user10 i just love them

user12 lets talk about the fact that at the 2020 grammys she didn’t feel like there was someone to celebrate with and now she has one and he helps her and supports her and take her on dates when she achieves more and more in her singing career 🥹

user13 yn and jude be like: happiest relationship of my life, so let’s go cheer for my breakup songs together 💕💞💓💗💖💘

ynusername

Liked by judebellingham, arianagrande, and 10.927.526 others

ynusername delicate is out now 🫧 surprise song for y’all, hope u like it 🫶🏻

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user14 delicate video really speaks to me. yn let go of the world's expectations of how she should act, smile and behave. once she did that, she was able to find who she was looking for. i’m shaking and crying, so so proud of our baby!!!!

user15 @user14 it’s already my favorite music video of her!!!! i love the lyrics 2

user16 these pics were taking by jude i’m CRYING and the lyrics… I JUST LOVE HIM EVEN MORE

user17 @user16 yeah 🥹 i’m so happy that she found someone that makes her feel like that

user18 delicate is one of the most beautiful songs yn has ever written, it’s so GENUINE.

[thebestsetter]

Thinking about Inumaki Toge being insecure about his speech (or the lack of thereof).

I feel like if he could trade a year of his life for sixty seconds without his cursed speech, he would. Without second thought. And specially because of you.

He's had a crush on you for a while (ever since your first encounter), but he'd never admit it. Not because he's scared of rejection, but because he's scared you'll reciprocate his feelings. Because he thinks you deserve better. Actually, scratch that: he knows you deserve better. You deserve someone so much better than him.

"And then you won't believe what he said! He said: 'I can't date you, cause I'm actually your brother!'"

"No way! That's the plot of the movie? How shitty!"

You deserve someone like Yuta. Someone who can make you laugh with their own words, someone who you don't need to strugle to understand what they're saying. Right now, you and Okkotsu are talking about some bad movie he watched. And you're laughing so hard and your laugh is so pretty it makes him wanna laugh too. He wants to engage on the conversation. He wants to say: "That's one of the worst plots I've ever seen! I can take you to the movies to see a real good movie if you'd like to"

But he can't. He can't, but Yuta can. He should let you go so you can be with someone who deserves you. He has no right to be this selfish, making you a slave of a love without any words of affection.

It feels like everytime he looks at you, there's a nagging voice in the back of his head, painfully reminding him that he can't be with you, and there's nothing he can do about it. It's an impossible love.

Hell, even Panda is making him feel envious and jealous. Even though he's literally a panda, at least he can talk to you. Sing your favorites songs with you. And he can't. At least not without cursing someone (and, God forbid, maybe even you. You're the last person he wants to harm)

He wanted you to confide in him just like how you confide in Maki. You always tell her everything. He wishes he, too, could be a source of relief. A shoulder you can rely on. But he can't. He can't, cause the best he could say in that situation is "Salmon", "Caviar" and other stupid onigiri ingredients that have nothing to do with the actual topic of the conversation. Honestly, he would be tired of himself if he was his friend. You don't have the obligation to understand his dialogue. Nobody does.

So, he comes to the conclusion that he should just avoid you. He should give up on loving you, because he doesn't want you to suffer.

"Toge, please! We haven't talked in days! Why did you suddenly stop talking to me?"

He stays silent. That's the only thing he can do, after all. He can't speak. He can't. But he wishes he could. He wishes he could tell you everything that's going through his head, tell you about how he feels like dying when he sees you playing a game with Itadori and Nobara because he knows he'll never be capable of doing that with you normally. If he speaks now, everything that'll come out of his mouth are foods. Speaking now would only remind him about the drift that exists between you both (and there's two options to avoid anyone's fall: you either close the gap or you widen it. He chose the latter)

"..."

"Inumaki, talk to me" (how sad. You want him to do exactly the only thing he can't do. That just makes him remember that he'll never be enough for you. Never)

Also, wow. You're using his last name. He got in a really bad situation, huh? How will he get out of this? How will he stop your (and also his) suffering?

There's only one way. And even though he swore that he'd never use his spell against you, he finds himself lowering his scarf with trembling hands.

"Leave. And don't look back."

~A/N: This is the fic I wrote that I mentioned on my last post!! I know a lot of people have writen abt this b4, so this is inspired by other stories I've read (if you've written something like this and want me to credit you, feel free to send me an ask!!). IT JUST FITS INUMAKI CHARACTER SO MUCHHH!! Like, I can totally imagine him being insecure about not being able to speak. I just thought I should give it a try cause I CAN'T FIND INUMAKI STUFF, so I took matters into my own hands. I don't realy like this, but I thought it would be a waste to not post it anyway

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