#i am so in the mood to write this and only this rn

[hurthermore]

hii!! ur writing has a choke hold on me!!🤯anyways, im so deprived of some comfort rn- could you maybe do something related to aftercare? For ex: Alastor comfort after a bit of degradation was taken too personally from reader :> (maybe some comfort while bandaging them up too idk)

Literally obsessed w ur shit ur like my fav hh writer, and ty for reading :3

Of course!<3 and TYSM!! That’s so sweet<3 warnings for sexual content, fluff? (Idk what fluff is apparently from my death one shot)

Your Alastor had always liked indulging in a bit of rough and degrading play; but this time he had went to far.

He had crossed one of your boundaries he hadn’t been aware of, calling you a degrading name you weren’t okay with; and as soon as that word left his mouth, you had become stiff.

Alastor had noticed immediately.

Stilling inside you, halting all movements, Alastor could only look in your eyes as he searched for consent within, searched for anything in your expression that still said you wanted him to continue; but he could not find it.

“Is everything quite alright, darling?” His tone harshly contrasted the nasty and rough demeanour he had with you only moments ago; now giving you a loving and soft voice as he checked in on you.

Looking to the side, you avoided his gaze as the word he used on you still pang through your chest. “Don’t call me that ever again.” You had spoken more harshly than intended, with a sharp snap in your tone, verbally indicating your distressed mood.

Immediately, Alastor had pulled himself out of you, only to wrap his arms around your torso, pressing his face in the snuff of your neck as he registered you were referring the to not so pleasant name he had called you as he fucked himself inside of you. “I’m sorry, darling.” He had meant it; truly. The dousing of guilt that consumed him as you emotionally pulled away from him had him panicking ever so slightly. “It won’t happen again.”

Sighing, you knew he had meant his apology, and despite how much the word he used had hurt you, you knew he had no ill intentions when using it; he merely indulged in a bit of degradation that you also found sexually arousing.

Placing a hand against the back of his hair, you tilted your face back to his. “It’s okay love; just please don’t say that again.” You had whispered ever so softly in his hair, only to feel him shiver from your breath cascading down his neck.

“Would you like to stop?” He had mumbled against your skin, asking for your consent to continue the sexual encounter.

“Yes…”

You weren’t in the mood anymore; and as soon as your deny for consent left your lips, Alastor clicked his fingers against one another. On command, the room you both inhabited slowly changed, warping from the confines of your shared room to a familiar one filled with items of pampering; a room Alastor only brought you to after he had made love to you or fucked you.

He had always been a gentleman to you, despite his preference to be less than gentleman-like whenever he pummelled himself into your walls, he always put your pleasure and your needs before his own.

It was something you were grateful for; and one of the many reasons you loved him.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, Alastor began hoisting you up, guiding your legs to link around his naked waist as he carried you to the large, hot bath imbedded in the floor; a bath which mimicked one of a hot tub in size.

Stepping inside, his hooves clicked against the metal alloyed bathing area as the two of you began to submerge within the hot water; it’s temperature relaxing all of your muscles as it began to douse your body.

Alastor had slowly settled you down in the bath, only to take a seat beside you as he held you close, his hands stroking parts of your body as he continued to comfort you.

You believed you would fall asleep if this were to proceed.

“I am truly sorry, my love.” He had spoken with such honesty and vulnerability as he held you, apologising to you yet again, despite doing so earlier.

“It’s okay, Al.” You only responded with a soft sigh as you leaned yourself against him.

“You know I don’t mean those things during our rougher sessions, don’t you, my darling?” He had asked ever so softly and gently, attempting to approach the subject in a calm manner, one that would be proefficient in cheering you up; his beloved.

You had only mumbled a yes, nodding your head as Alastors lips began pressing themselves against your neck. “I know, love. It’s just- that word.”

“It won’t be used again,” He quickly interrupted you. “My perfect little darling, I swear it.” He said between the pecks of romantic kisses he placed against your neck.

The smile that enriched your face wasn’t missed by your lover as you allowed him to pamper you, to echo sweet words of love and loyalties into you skin, to kiss sweet gestures of love along your body.

You were blessed to have such an evil man be your darling sweetheart.

#alastor x reader #alastor x you #hazbin alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #reader insert #x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader smut #alastor smut

[shaarlslec]

you know me too well

part 1: the break-up, the days and nights that followed, the meet-up

part 3: seeing him for the first time after your break-up, promises of the future;

pairing: daniel ricciardo x reader

words: 8800 ish (not the last part lol);

warnings: fluff, angst (full on, heart-breaking stuff), mentions of sex, arguing, shouting;

masterlist

Core memories of your relationship with Daniel after breaking-up with him: the good ones, the bad ones, and the present.

THE GOOD ONES

It was dreamy – being with Danny was dreamy. And you were almost going to let that slip in between your fingers at first. 

After that night when you first met you told him that you were not that fond off with the idea of having a relationship, but at the same time you were not willing to let him go away from your bed. Within the first days after your rendezvous, you decided for yourself that it was the best for you two to just be drinking and fuck buddies, while Daniel craved for more than a mere meaningless bodily connection with you.  

“So just sex and nothing more?” Daniel asked you with a clever grin all over the man’s face while half of his body was covered only by the sheet after you ended up calling him to your place only “to talk” about what happened two weeks ago after the wedding where you met. 

Daniel had agreed the evening prior with your call, knowing that “the talk” was going to happen after you two repeated your little escaped from your first night. And oh boy, what a preview the night after the wedding was for a lot more that happened the second time you laid in bad with him.

Now you two had to talk. That what why you called him for in the first place. You looked at your side meeting the man’s inquiring eyes and arched up brow, “I like that, yes.” You then spoke, sneaking your hand underneath the sheet in search of him. 

Daniel chuckled as he caught your hand on one of his tight to bring it back out just to kiss the back of it as eyes were fixed on your face, “Then find out that I think morning sex is only for people in relationships.” He sarcastically intoned, rolling over the bed in search for his clothes all over the floor.

A sigh escaped from between your lips, the thing you learned fast about Daniel was that he was extremely good at teasing. You watched him getting his shorts on, and you knew that you had to say something back to him. 

“I do not really know how to do relationships, Danny.” You confessed, bringing your knees at your chest to rest your chin on them as Daniel looked over his shoulder to your barely clothed body standing so beautifully on the top of the bed. You were alluring, breathtaking even – how could he just leave you like that?

“I can teach you.” Daniel spoke, getting back into the bed making his comfortable way back on top of you as you stretched your legs forward, “I want to teach you everything I know about it.” Danny then smirked, kissing your left shoulder and then your neck just for his lips to find their way back on your mouth. It was yet another win for Daniel that morning, seeing you agree with a nod to his offering, “Good girl.” Danny teased then again, giving you the chance to slip your hand back into his shorts. 

As days and weeks went being Danny’s girl your anxieties only grew as you were constantly thinking about how hard it will be for both of you to keep long-distance for most of the time while Daniel was not worried about that at all. Daniel wanted you, and not just for a couple of fun nights when he came back in Perth, he wanted you for the whole thing: dates, bringing you with him at his races, going on events you were booked for just to see how pretty your make-up looked on people there, snuggles in the mornings and parties with you until the sunrise, holidays with your friends and families – the whole thing. 

Danny learned that one of the reasons you were hesitant about you two going official- official was your fright of intimacy developed throughout the years of your childhood and adolescence. You were close to twenty-five and yet you never had a serious boyfriend before, Daniel wanted to be the first one to show you that there was more than kissing, touching, and moaning in between the two of you. Yes, the sex was good. The best you both have ever had, and yet he could sense your hand retracting from underneath yours when you were in public, and how your voice was cut short when he made you random compliments in between the sheets about how beautiful you were. You had never had something like this before, you had never had someone wanting to hold your hand as you walked side by side or someone who liked to sprinkle comments about your face – you were clueless in which were the proper reactions to just tiny things. 

In one of the mornings Daniel woke up in an empty bed staring at your back as you were seated at your vanity desk practicing eyeshadow techniques and considered himself the luckiest man that walked on earth just because you were meters away from him. That boy was falling in love quicker than he would have expected, and the only hope he had in the back of his mind was for you to feel the same about waking up next to him. You clearly did, and yet you were not a woman of many words when it came to emotions, feelings, you had no idea how to express all of them. Luckily for you, Daniel had its way of convicting you to open your mouth.

Your boyfriend did nothing for whole five minutes aside from looking at your pretty face and the full-blown concentration on it as you were combining bright neon colors on your eyes as he thought about methods to make sure that you were on the same page as him that morning – Danny needed to know that you were falling for him too. You were way too deep into your work that you have not even noticed him waking up, Daniel’s voice startled you as the man’s mouth opened and your eyeliner being ruined in a split of a second by your jump after hearing him talk.  

“Are you okay?” Daniel had asked, watching you basically smashing your head against the white table in front of you as soon as you saw that imperfect eyeliner crossing the top of your lid. 

You declined with a shake of a head, “I am doomed, Daniel.” You then spoke, looking over your shoulder to find him already on his knees in the middle of the bed, “I have been booked for a fashion event next week and I have no inspiration whatsoever for the looks.” You complained, exasperatedly taking your hand into both of your heads as you went back to bed and to him waiting for you there, “I have no one to practice on for the moment and doing it on myself is very much very different than doing make-up on someone else.” You spoke as you climbed on top of Daniel’s lap, arms already stretched to snuggled you close. 

“Practice on me then.” Daniel spoke, as one of his palms was slowly caressing your back going up and down to comfort you as you laid there in his arms for minutes, “I am somewhat of a model myself.” He then chuckled, looking now fully at you already considering the idea. 

“Are you sure?” You asked him already standing back up and pulling Daniel’s hands with you to the vanity desk, “The event is all about bright neon colors and graphic patterns, it is not some light day-to-day make-up kind of looks.” You explained, as Daniel just nodded to all your words. 

“One hundred percent sure.” Daniel mocked, remembering the blunt line you told him back on the kitchen counter in your first night together, “But—” He then stopped, letting go of your hands and comfortably sitting back into the bed with legs stretched up onwards, “I am not moving from the bed an inch and you will have to sit here.” Daniel then smirked, patting both of his thighs. 

Rolling your eyes at Daniel you picked up all the make-up you needed and tossed them on the bed next to him, “Ok, but you will behave and let me do the work.” You jokingly warned him with a pointed finger. 

Daniel nodded, “Did that last night and it worked out pretty well, right?” He teased back, comfortably leaning his back on the bedframe as you took your seat into his lap, “So, is high-fashion make-up what you have always wanted to do?” He questioned, looking at you as you tried to figure out the exact shade of foundation for his complexion. 

You nodded back, “Are you that interested about what kind of make-up I like to do?” You questionably asked as you mixed two shades on the back of your palm, “No guy has ever asked me this before.” You muttered, more for yourself rather than for Daniel. 

“Of course, I am interested about that. Why would I not be interested in what my girlfriend does for a living?” Daniel spoke, placing both of his hands in the curves of your hips and pulling you closer to him. 

Your cheeks went red, and not because you were that close with him or because you were feeling him throbbing underneath you. It was because he just called you “my girlfriend” and what a silly thing can two silly words make you feel. 

“What?” Daniel laughed as he noticed you all startled and flustered, “Does the word “girlfriend” embarrasses you? Are you too cool for that?”” He continued, ridiculous little chuckles in between all his words.

“Can you please keep your mouth shut?” You laughed back, “It is better not to talk when somebody does make-up on you.” You spoke, finding the perfect match of foundation for Danny and placing tiny dots on the man’s face. 

“You know that you cannot avoid the whole boyfriend-girlfriend talk forever, right?” Daniel spoke, and suddenly his tone switched from the goofy silly one to a much more serious and demanding. 

“What do you want me to say Daniel?” You exclaimed after a short sigh that was not enough to clear your mind, “That you are the best thing that happen in my life lately and I am so incredibly scared of this being just a dream I wake up from tomorrow?” You blustered out at once, “That I do like to be called your girlfriend, but I am frightened of not reaching the expectations of being Daniel Ricciardo’s lover?” You continued, watching the man’s expression softened as he listened to your flustered blabbering, “That I have never in my life have somebody that I care about so much and this fast, and my only thought now is that I am not deserving of this?” You cried out loud, your tears uncontrollably filling the corners of your eyes, “I am so sorry – I have no idea how to do this.” You added with a sob, “To talk about my feelings and all.” You explained, as Daniel’s large palms cupped your face to grab you in a soft kiss that was far different from the ones you two shared before.

Danny kissed you for longer than anybody ever did before and with such softness that you were not aware that two mouths are possible of grasping, hugging your body closer to his in doing so with hands wrapped around your waist defining the non-existent distance between your bodies. You were dazed that somebody could kiss somebody else like that, and that your body was able to feel what was happening on your lips through it all – the veins, the curl in your stomach, the shakiness of your thighs and the tingles in your spine. You melted right into him, gently touching the curls of his hairs as your fingers lost themselves at the back of his neck. 

“See?” Danny asked as he was left breathless after departing not even an inch from your face, “You just did – you just talked about your feelings.” He then continued, nuzzling his nose with yours making you chuckle instead of sobbing, “It is alright to be frightened, I am too.” He then added, placing one last quick peak on your lips before leaning his back on the bedframe again, “And yet, I am sure that we can work it out.” Danny smiled, and that was something within that smile of his that made you completely sure that you can overcome all your anxieties having him by your side. 

You smiled back, “Ok then, can I now practice my make-up on my boyfriend?” You spoke, highlighting the hell out of the last word just to see him giggle like a middle-school child in front of you. 

“You sure can, girlfriend.” Danny nodded, making sure that you were sitting comfortably on his thighs. 

It was you who taught Daniel everything and anything about make-up and skincare routines about which he was completely oblivious before as he was watching you closely building your make-up artist career while practicing on him became one of your things every other morning when your schedules permitted. 

At first it was Daniel’s trick to learn you how intimacy can be shared between two close almost naked bodies without having sex, but as months went by and as you got excited every single time when Danny agreed again to be used as a model, having meaningless conversations about random things, and gossiping in bed while you were doing make-up on your boyfriend became one of your many rituals. 

That and getting equally wasted together were two of your favorite rituals, and no evening ever overtopped the one in Monaco back in 2018 when be bought back the trophy for first place.  

You loved to see Danny racing, and yet you hated to be spotted around him during the race weekends you attended. Daniel made sure that everybody knew he was now taken, positing you non-stop on his stories and mentioning the words “my girlfriend” in each interview he took when the replies to the question permitted.

And yet, as much as you loved spending time with him in the paddock where you already made acquaintance with every single driver from the grid and with the most important figures at Red Bull while arms-in-arms with Danny, you despised being spotted by the photographers. 

Due to that, you often chose to sneak into the Red Bull garage without Ricciardo, not wanting to draw that much of an attention on you. You never wanted that, you never wanted to be known just as some man’s accessory and hearing your name in the same context as the word WAG drove you crazy. Therefore, you two had decided for your relationship to be public as privately as reasonable – you secretly and silently accompanied him to his races, letting only the people in Daniel’s team know that you were there. 

“See you after the race, alright Y/N?” Daniel quickly spoke as he pressed a kiss on your forehead before handing out as you were still in bed at the hotel room while Daniel was hurried to leave it and go on the track by his hazardous schedule. 

You murmured a short “yeah” and covered your face with the pillow to avoid the sun getting through the window straight on your face, making Daniel shiver due to your incurable cuteness, “Ok then, I am leaving now just so you know –” Danny then laughed, watching your one of your hands getting out of the sheet to wave him a vague goodbye, “I love you, bye!” Daniel spoke as the bedroom’s door closed behind him, realizing only good minutes after he left the hotel that that was the first time one of you spoke the words “I love you”.

“Oh shit,” Daniel muttered as he got into the car before taking a quick look on the watch clasped at his wrist, there was no time for him to go back into the room and see or hear your reaction, “Did I just let that out with that much of a nonchalance? Did it sound wrong? Did Y/N hear that?” He spoke, maniacally starting the engine, “Shit, shit, shit.” Your boyfriend muttered as he hurried to the track with million thoughts about what he just did flying through his head.

“Oh shit,” You muttered as you basically jumped out of your bed as you realized that Daniel just told you that he loves you and you were not quick enough to reciprocate the feeling, “Did Daniel just said he loves me, and I muted completely? Did he just left without me saying it back?” You mumbled, “Shit, shit shit.” You repeated just in the same manner as Danny back in the car, “How do I say it back? Do I even know how to say that to someone?” You worried, fully on your feet now and with the same million thoughts about what was just said flying through your head. 

Monaco was crazy, seeing him winning was crazy. Once the checked flag was flipped you felt the whole earth shaking underneath your feet as you were waiting for him to get out of the car positioned in the P1 sign. You knew how much this win meant for him, you knew how much he wanted that – and he did it.

Daniel executed everything perfect that day, and you wanted nothing more but to just congratulate your boyfriend on perhaps one of the most important wins of his career. 

Instead of Daniel just jumping straight in the crowd that was waiting for him to do so, Daniel searched for you amid all the craziness he was witnessing. Everyone was shouting his name, everyone in the team was loudly clapping, everyone either shouted or yelled in your ears while you were doing none of that but instead tearing up happy tears for him with your hands close to your racing chest.

You stretched your arms out once your glares met, and Daniel ran towards you without thinking about that twice. His arms instinctively wrapped around you, and you enfolded him as tightly as humanly possible.

You wanted to congratulate him too like everybody else around you trying to get a hold on him, you wanted to let him know that you were extremely happy for what just happened and that he did an extremely good job that day. 

Still, your thoughts were on the quick “I love you” of that morning. You were not going to wait, you needed to tell him – and Danny needed to hear you saying it back first thing after that morning. Ricciardo’s hamlet was still on as you murmured the words close to where his left ear was supposed to be. I love you too, Danny.

“I am so sorry; I cannot hear you love.” Daniel spoke as he lifted the vision to better look at you, “What did you just say?” He asked out of genuine curiosity and not to fool around, he was indeed unable to hear you saying it back due to the loud noise and the hamlet still on his head. 

You shortly laughed and then gathered all the strength that you had left within your lungs to shoot the words out loud – louder than everybody else near you two yelling Daniel’s name, “I love you too, Danny.” You piercingly shouted, making sure that everyone around including Daniel was hearing your words.

Removing his helmet with a quick move alongside with the headgear that reveled his handsomely deranged curls, Daniel displayed the brightest genuine smile you saw on him as he stared at you, “What?” He then repeated in between chuckles as he cupped your face with both of his palms, “I am not sure that I have heard that properly love, can you repeat?” Danny spoke, shiny sparks of joy engulfing the dark irises of the man who was not only exhaled that he will be going to the podium to take the biggest trophy, but also thrilled of knowing that you loved him back. 

For a moment everyone around you two went quieter – they heard you loud and clear for the first time, and yet they were as edger as Danny for you to shout it again, and again, and again. 

“I love you, Daniel Ricciardo.” You shouted once more even louder than before, “I love you; I love you; I love you.” You repeated, heart jumping out of your chest as Danny’s mouth went on yours in the eyes of everybody watching from up-close. 

No matter how much you hated being watched, you wrapped your hands around the winning man’s neck and cave in for the kiss. You both knew that it did not matter then how many pictures were taken or how the articles are going to blow up minutes after that; it was just you and him – it has always been just you and him.

Daniel would have not let you go if it was not for him to go on that podium, and yet he had to go up there seconds after your embraced bodies split. 

You got to watch him brightly smiling on the platform in front of you, seeing him the happiest you had ever seen him before – the happiest everybody had seen him up until that very moment. Danny’s glance lingered on your face once spotted again in the crowd for long enough to make your heart throb in a way you never thought of it capable of beating. 

The party after Monaco GP was even crazier than the race, and Danny was more than thrilled that he had that experience to share with you. You danced all night together while properly getting wasted on shots. You took pictures, you laughed, you shouted his name for the thousand time that day to congratulate him while everyone was trying to get a hold of his attention.

Meaningless to say that they all failed. Of course, Daniel was polite enough to accept all the congratulations and to take all the pictures, but without losing sight of you even once. 

It was wild to him that aside from his family, you were the one with whom he wanted to share that win the most. You were the reason he pushed through that race, wanting to finish it quicker just to see you waiting for him after the checked flag and oh, how much of a pleasure it was for his ears to hear you saying the words back.

He never had that before, he never had someone he wanted to share all the happiness and love he held into that little cracked heart of his. And then, there you were now. Oh, how much Daniel loved you back then, and how much you loved him too. 

“Are you okay?” You worryingly asked him at the party, watching his steps stopping from dancing just to take another good look at you in the middle of the dance floor happily jumping on the rhythm of the song. 

Daniel cupped his face into his hands and shook that briefly as if he was not able to believe his eyes what was he just witnessing inches away from him, “I have never been happier Y/N.” Daniel then confessed as he took your waist into one of his arms and wrapped it around you taut, “I was just thinking how different this party would have looked now if you were not to spill that drink on me months ago.” Daniel laughed, kissing the back of your ear before whispering sweet nothings into it, “Thank you for dancing with me then.” He then spoke, pressing his lips harder on your skin. 

“Thank you for dancing with me still.” You replied, watching him watch you back with nothing but pure joy on the man’s face as he took your hand into his to start and fool around again on the club’s tunes exploding into your ears. 

Your boyfriend was the one who decided to leave the party early, excusing himself for feeling too tired to keep on partying and drinking as he took you out of the pub just to spend the rest of the night walking around the tiny streets of Monaco with you.

No, Daniel was not tired and as bad as he was at lying, everyone trusted him that he was indeed sincere. You silently giggled as you watched him taking turns in saying “goodbye” as you were the only one there who truly knew when he was faking something. 

“I thought you were tired.” You joked as your arms swinged back and forth clasped together on a random Monegasque sidewalk a little bit over midnight, “Where are we even going?” You giggled, quickly watching over your shoulder realizing that you were far-away from either the club or the hotel. 

Daniel nonchalantly lifted his shoulders up, “Wherever this leads us to.” He then spoke, pointing to the badly illuminated street at your right. 

That was how you spent most of the night. You two wondered hand in hand around the city with no specific purpose. You talked about everything you thought you never discussed before although that seemed quite unmanageable at first since you already knew each other too well. And yet, hours went by, and you were still narrating stories to each other that the other had never heard before – stories from childhood, high-school, college, adulthood. Everything was on the plate that night, and somehow both of you knew that those stories will never ever be told to somebody else. 

The only time you stopped from all the talking was when you spontaneously decided to have a quick round of fucking on a poorly illumined estranged street. You were never the type to agree to such a thing or to want to have random sex in random places. As haphazard as everything was being with Daniel – you loved every single piece of the man’s spontaneousness.

And yes, especially when that randomness was transcribed as your leg around the man’s waist while your back was glued on the wall. 

Jumping into bed was the first thing you both did after hours of walking around town, when the sun was already picking through the clouds of the next morning. You were too tired to repeat what you just did on the alley. You ended up in each other’s arms dressed just as you were at the club with your hearts beating at the same time as you were reliving the events of the day. 

“See?” Daniel spoke before falling asleep, “You talked about your feelings again, and oh in such a fashion!” He shortly snickered as he was too tired for a full giggle, “You told me you love me in front of everybody.” 

You grinned, “You enjoyed that very much, haven’t you?” You teased him, placing one quick last peak on his lips before closing your eyes on the sleepy man’s chest. 

“Are you still frightened?” He then asked, slowly playing with your hairs in between his fingers, “You were scared to death the first time I called you “my girlfriend.” He then added, taking you back to your first days. 

You shook your head, “No.” You bluntly spoke, “Not even a little, not even at all.” You confessed, “What about you?” 

Daniel shook his head too, “No.” He then replied as bluntly as you, “Not even a little, not even at all.” He repeated, placing one last good-night kiss before both of you felt deeply asleep within each other’s arms. 

It was true back then, none of you were scared anymore about what was about to come in your relationship. You loved deeply each other back then, no matter the distance and the priorities.

You both wanted to make it work, you both wanted to make it last for as long as forever meant. 

THE BAD ONES

The good moments were the one that you remembered the most after your break-up, those were the ones which pained you two the most and not the heart tearing apart ones when you fought or argued.

Those happened too, they do happen in every single long-committed relationship, and you knew that you and Daniel were not going to escape them no matter how much you tried too.

You argued over meaningless things for most of the times: why were not the dishes done, food preferences, holidays bookings or different views on smaller or larger topics such as what type of bread is the best or economics, and yet there was this one big fight that you both would have never wanted to get through when your relationship hit the three years mark. 

“Who was that?” Daniel asked with his arms crossed at the chest as your tensed back tried to relax leaned against the wall watching your boyfriend scanning you from head to toes with a blaming look. 

“Oh for fuck’s sake Daniel, are you really going to play the jealousy card right now when you did not even bothered to attend the party?” You replied in a loud tone, being already feed-up by Daniel’s interrogatory.  

You were talking about your birthday party. Daniel announced you last minute that he was stuck in Belgium after the race for few more interviews and appearance in local magazines that you knew he could easily refuse. You were willing to change the date, even though the local was booked and people were starting to already show up. You wanted your boyfriend to attend your birthday party, and yet Daniel insisted that you should be the one having fun while he was annoyed by everybody asking him why he was underperforming during his first year at McLaren despite the good result of the race. 

The party was held, and your friends and families were all invited – aside with models and designers with whom you previously worked on some projects. Your career was finally on a good track after years of doing make-up weddings, you finally got into the fashion world and people started to notice your name in magazines as the make-up artist. Your birthday party was a great way to network with people attending, and Daniel knew that the main reason you made such a fuss about your birthday was that – he hated the idea. 

In the last three years you wanted nothing more but to celebrate it with him. You just needed him, and now you were making a whole-ass event to get your hands on new projects and more money. 

After few days photos from the event started to be posted on social media, and you were tagged in all of them. People who barely knew you as a person whished you all their bests and faked your whole relationship on social media just for the cloud. Ricciardo despised you being drawn to this kind of a world; your boyfriend knew too well how people around him acted just because he was a famous figure – he did not want that for you, and to you that felt like he was not happy for your success as much as you were for his.

Miscommunication, that was the base your fight was all about. 

“Oh come on now Y/N,” Daniel exasperatedly talked back to you shoveling the phone’s screen in your face, “You would have not been jealous if you were to see me holding somebody like that?” He then asked as you glanced over a photo from the party where you were waist was tightly held by one of the models who was more than happy that you were whispering something within the stranger’s ear while glued on him. 

The photo looked incriminatory, sure. Nothing had happened between you and the random guy within it, sure. And yet, were you able to calmly explain to Ricciardo that it was just a friendly-awkward hug, and that in the picture you were whispering to the man that you have a boyfriend so he would stop hitting on you actually? No. Your nerves were tensed to the maximum.

Since Daniel went to McLaren you two went cold, rather he was the one who went cold. You were not talking that much anymore; you barely saw him as he was too busy proving to everybody in the team that he is still one of the greatest drivers on the grid when they did nothing but treat him badly. 

“Nothing happened.” You spoke while taking your eyes out of him, you knew that you were about to burst out if you kept glaring at Danny, “You would have known that if you actually came.” You bitterly added while looking at the floor to avoid the fire within the man’s irises. 

“It seems like you had fun without me too.” Daniel replied, nervously walking around the living room that was now yours too since you moved in one year ago. You glanced at Danny as his fingers tightened in fists almost showing the blood pumping through his arm veins as he did so, and that was when you knew that he was too about to burst, “You are now giving me an attitude because I did not attend your shallow ass of a party? That is why you let men you barely know post pictures with you?” He then asked, fully facing you now from the middle of the living room. 

Your back remined glued on the wall, “Shallow?” You inquired with an arched brow, “Oh right, all the parties and events we have ever attended for your job were funny and entertaining, none of them were for you to meet and talk with higher-ups from teams on the grid. Right.” You sarcastically intoned as you felt personally attacked by him now, “It is fine when you do it but suddenly when I do it is shallow.” You added, clasping your trembling fingers together as you gathered courage to meet Danny’s eyes on yours, “Grow the fuck up Daniel, we are both adults working – we are both doing shallow things to reach our goals whatever those are.” You added, regretting your words not even seconds after they were spoken. 

Too late though, too late to retract them, “Grow up?” Daniel almost shouted back to you, “My goal is to be back on the podium where I belong, and your goal is to hang out with celebrities and models in hope they will book you for events.” He then harshly spoke, taking two steps towards you with a clenched jaw and the saddest eyes you have ever seen him portrayed. 

Daniel did not want to fight with you, and neither did you. And yet, at that exact moment none of you considered the unforgiving words that blasted through your mouths that were used just as covers for the real problems emerging in your relationship: distance and priorities.

You huffed, “Do you think this is all I do when I go to work?” You asked him, “Do you think that all I want is to be an accessory to famous people on social media?” You sarcastically grinned as you approached him as well, being now inches away from the other, “I have been this to you for the past three years Danny – why would I want to be that for somebody else who’s less famous than you?” You inquired, looking up at him with dreadful eyes. 

Danny froze for a split of a second in front of you, and his fists unclasped just to grab you by your shoulders and to rest his palms in the curves in between that and your neck, “You are not an accessory to me.” Daniel argued as he deeply exhaled before continuing, “You knew what you signed up for when we decided to date – you knew that you would have to be part of the racing world whatever you liked it or not.” Your boyfriend then continued, “Have I ever made you feel like that love?” He sincerely asked as one of his thumbs rubbed your left cheek, movement that normally made your knees incredibly weak. 

And yet, now was not the case. 

You took a step back and gently slapped Daniel’s hand from your face, “You are being mean right now Daniel.” You hurtful spoke as tears formed in the corner of your eyes, “You just indirectly suspected me of cheating on you when you were not deliberately around, you told me that my work is not as valuable as yours, and now you are trying to manipulate me in giving you the upper-hand by acting all lovely with me knowing that I go nuts when you look at me like that.” You spoke hugging your own body, “Fuck Danny.” You mumbled as you stretched the back of your neck, “I need five minutes to think.” You spoke, turning your back on him and ending up locking the bedroom door on Daniel who was not quick enough to catch you. 

You were not completely right, and yet you were not half wrong. Daniel never thought of you cheating on him, and he would have never falsely accused you of doing so – directly nor indirectly. Your boyfriend was indeed jealous, and yet he had to understood that his jealously was just used to shelter the man’s incompetency of not being there for you that night and the frustration of having to put his work ahead of you for the very first time in your relationship. 

Also, Daniel never denigrated your work and always was amazed by the art you created on people’s faces with your hands, and the only thing he wanted to do was to protect you from that type of a toxic circle you slowly yet surely were getting into attending and throwing parties for and with them. Deep down you knew that Daniel was right about the shallowness you were drowning into, and yet you were not brave enough to admit that in front of him. You were too stubborn to do so, and Daniel was too caught up in his own world to mingle into yours. 

You took a deep breath in and opened the door after five minutes of staying in absolute silence. Your arms automatically wrapped around Daniel who was already waiting for you inches away from the door with an anxious shaky pair of hands ready to wrap around you too. 

“I was not trying to manipulate you.” Daniel clarified as your head glued to the man’s chest, “I never meant to do that, I would never do that.” Your boyfriend then added as he felt his neck getting drier as he spoke, “I just wanted us to stop fighting, I hated every single minute of it.” Danny then sighed, snuggling you closer to him.

You nodded at the man’s chest, “I know, I hated it too.” You spoke, gulping for a tiny breath of air as you sniffed Daniel’s scent that you had missed so profoundly much through your nostrils, “I am so sorry that I exaggerated.” You apologized, knowing that his will follow right away. 

“I am so sorry that I missed your birthday party.” He then spoke, “And for all of the things I just said – I was angry and frustrated.” He confessed, departing from you only to help wipe your tears. 

“I am sorry too for all of the things that I just said.” You sobbed, “I am so very so—”

You were interrupted rightfully so by Daniel leaning for a kiss, you both heard enough excuses for the day and needed touching rather than talking. 

It has been a while since your last, oh and how much you missed that.

You took one of Daniel’s wrists into one of your hands as he was kissing you, while the other stayed close to the man’s racing beating heart that you felt erupting underneath the shirt’s fabric. Your hearts ached, and both of you sensed that there was something wrong in between the lingering of your kisses, and later in between the sheets of you making love. 

You were unable to pinpoint exactly what, but there where these unspoken, intangible, hard feelings lying in between your fingers playing with each other and in between the kisses. You both thought that they will go away, and that they do not count. It was you and Daniel after all: you were not going to break-up from a mere fight, you were not going to let each other go due to distance, you were not going to prioritize your careers over your love life.

It has always been you and him. 

Right?

THE PRESENT

You placed the phone down on the table after seeing the video that everybody sent your way, the last few words from the video acted as a punch in your stomach. I just wanted to say I appreciate everyone’s support through the highs and lows and everything in between. This is not it for me, we will see what lays ahead.

Daniel Ricciardo was out from McLaren. Your feed filled with the news seconds after the video from his side was uploaded. Everything went crazy on your phone’s screen, everyone who knew that you had been in a relationship with him asked you the same questions. Did you know about him leaving? Have you two talked about this before? Are you still in contact with him? Is Daniel alright?

You would have loved to know the answer to the last question, and yet you were unable to find out and it would have been too intrusive to act on that. You have not seen Daniel in more than a year after your spilt, and the last time you two talked was months ago through the phone in that damn morning for you and night for him. And yet, now you were on his unblocked Instagram to see the original video of him announcing his leave. You took a full breath of air in, seeing his face this up-close after months was not doing you any good, seeing him sad was not doing you any good.  

“Oh fuck,” You mumbled as you were unaware of your own loud voice, “He is finally out of there.” You spoke with a frail smile sprung in your face, somewhat joyful of what was just announced as you whished nothing but the best for Daniel after your break-up, “Leaving is for the best.” You softly whispered, only thinking about how awful Daniel must have been feeling in the last couple of months. 

“I had a couple of hard days at work, and I want to tell you all about them, but I know that I lost my privileges in doing so.” Daniel’s voice echoed in the back of your mind, just to be interrupted by yet another voice of one of your boyfriend’s – your actual one this time, and not your ex. 

“Who? Out of where?” Your boyfriend spoke as he heard you from the kitchen’s doorframe speaking, “Good morning sunshine.” He then gracefully greeted with a short kiss of your head. 

You smiled back at him, poor him for not knowing what you were thinking about when your forehead was kissed. Daniel and that night in Monaco four years ago. Daniel and every other morning when you were having coffees back into your apartment. Daniel and his “good nights love.” 

Daniel, Daniel, Daniel.

“Are you good?” The man standing next to you was asking as he saw your trembling fingers on the phone’s margins. 

You nodded and threw in a fake smile, “Yes, too much morning coffee.” You lied, pushing the phone at the end of the table. 

“So? Who is out of where?” He insisted, and you faked a confused expression on your face. 

Your new boyfriend was dense, and you knew that by simply ignoring him insisting the second time will make him give up completely. No, he was not that stupidly cute type of a man. He was indeed a complete idiot which made him the perfect rebound material. Were you feeling bad? Probably yes. Were you thinking that you will be able to find another man to love as much as Danny? Most certainly not. Therefore, wasting time around with a handsome rebound idiot was exactly what you needed. 

“So?” He muttered again, and you swore to yourself right then and there that there has not been any more annoyed “so’s” spoken in the world up until then, “What should I wear for your friend’s wedding next weekend?”

You chuckled, “Nothing.” You replied, rosing from the table to head straight to his apartment exit. 

He grinned back at you, “That will happen after the wedding, but I do have to wear something during it. Right?” He asked, confusingly watching you getting your shoes on the hall. 

You chuckled again, sarcastically so this time around. 

“No, that is not it.” You spoke as you leaned back on the apartment’s door, “You do not have to wear nothing because you are not going to attend that anymore.” You explained, watching him being even more confused than before, “I am breaking up with you right now, that is why.” You spoke, getting out of the door as faster and as gracious as you could with a wave of your hand that left the man the most confused, he had ever been in his entirely human life. 

One of the most useful things the man you just had broken up with has ever done for you was to remember that you had to attend the mention wedding in one week time. And yet, the entire week that follow you were not thinking at all about how you will get dressed, but about the fact that your friend was not exactly your friend but Ricciardo’s. You got invited months later after the break-up, and she insisted that you must be there with or without Danny as my plus-one. 

Even since she got to meet you during one of your trips with Daniel group of friends, she confessed that she liked you more than Danny and that you must attend her wedding without feeling pressure of the possibility of seeing your ex-boyfriend there. Daniel was always busy, right? What were the chances of him being at the wedding? Below 49%? Oh, you were going to risk it if so. 

You sighed, you really wanted to go part because you wanted to check from afar if Danny was at least ‘okay’ if not ‘fine’ after the announcement but also because you dearly missed his figure in your proximity. Daniel knew that you confirmed, and that you will be there too. Oh, and how much he needed to talk to somebody who knew him about the whole charade with McLaren, and yet Daniel made a sport out of avoiding you at friends’ events for the past year or so – that had to stop. 

Proudly claiming that you were both over each other, and that no way in hell a simple meeting will shake you as sufficient time has passed for you to both be alright in the presence of the other, you both went to your mutual friends’ wedding in hopes to not get all the feelings rushing back in. 

Daniel was the first one to arrive at the setting, and the first one to be approached about you by the bride and the groom right from the start. All friends of family of Daniel present made a pact of not bringing up McLaren into discussion that night as the announcement was still fresh, and yet none of them said something about not mentioning you to him. Daniel would have loved for the latter to be prohibited that night, because he did not know how many questions he could handle. 

“It has been over a year, my dearest friend.” He forced a chuckle to one of his guys, “Me and Y/N are over our relationship, you should be too.” Daniel then added, gently patting his high-school friend who still cried about you to him when they got drunk saying that you were the best thing Daniel ever had, only managing to twist the dagger inside of Danny’s crushed heart that knew it was all nothing but the truth. 

“I know, I know.” His college sighed, “And yet, this is the very first event you ever attend where she will be too.”

Daniel hardly nodded, “I guess I got over a little bit harder than she did.” He then spoke, taking the first shot of many tequilas to come down the throat, “Fuck.” Daniel whispered underneath his breath, tequila at weddings always remember him of you. 

Your ex-boyfriend shook his head after taking yet another shot, alcohol seemed to be the answer for that evening’s questions. Daniel’s head spined already when you entered the room, immediately answering two of the man’s inquiries. You were just as stunning as he remembered, and you came without a plus-one. Daniel’s breath was cut short as he was not able to take his eyes from you from across the room. 

“Oh fuck.” Danny whispered again, taking his face in both of his palms. I am so not over it. He internally monologued; I am so not fucking over it. He then repeated, not moving an inch from the bar for the following minutes as he was reconsidering his whole choice of attending, thinking about how much of a fool he was for lying to himself that he will be strong enough to watch you be over your relationship when Danny was far away from that point – at least that what was Daniel thought.

You were far from being over too, you had not just spotted Danny in time for feelings to rush back in an instant when eyes met, although you had promised to keep them locked up. They were unhinged fast as you went to grab your drink, spotting Daniel standing there only meters before your arrival. You froze for a second as you felt the man’s glare on you as you approached. 

Your hearts loudly bounced, highly jumped, and hardly ached at the same time as you stood in front of each other for the first time in many mouths. Feelings went uncaged, and bodies reacted to them in the form of sweaty palms, shy awkward friendly smiles, and shaky voices. 

“Hi.” Daniel was the first one to murmur something to you, the weakest “hi” you have ever heard for him. You lightly tittered, you were used to a much louder Daniel Ricciardo than the one standing now in front of you. 

“Hi.” You replied to him with a tense of nostalgia in the codes of your tone, “One for me as well.” You then added, talking now with the bartender rather than with Ricciardo from which shot glass you were pointing at, “Tequila, right?” You teased, repeated word by word Daniel’s lines from four years ago when you two first met. 

Daniel nodded, “Not the best, not the worst, but does the trick.” He then replied, showing you that you were not the only one to remember what had happened in what seemed to be such a distant yet so close past for both of you.

Your glares lingered for a while on each other without saying a word, and yet somehow understanding that this was hard for both of you. Pretending to be strangers, exchanging short shy greetings, and not jumping at each other’s neck to crush the spaces in between your bodies. You softly sighed; you were the one who broke down first with a cry as you took another step towards Daniel.

“I really do not know how to do this with you.” You confessed, hand rested on the bar’s table while the other hanging lifeless around your body slowly swinged in the distance between you and him. 

“Me neither.” Danny confessed too, not being daring enough to hold your hand but brushing the back of it with the tips of his fingers in his attempt of doing so, “Y/N I –” He then harshly stopped to catch a breath of the air around that was not intoxicated by your sweet perfume Daniel has never forgot the taste of from your neck in so many restless nights,  “I know that I told you last time that I cannot do the whole friends thing with you, but can we please try that here for a couple of hours?” Danny hardly spoke, taking one step away from you not to be tempted. 

“Friends then.” You agreed with a nod after pondering the words for a while, “Friends sounds good.” You lied, taking your first shot of tequila in at the same time as Daniel was engulfing in his fifth while not getting eyes out off from you. 

Friends. You were everything that night but not friends, because friends do not look like other friends like you did, and they do not hope somewhere in the back of their minds that they will end up leaving together just as it had happened four years ago. 

#i am so in the mood to write this and only this rn #i am so sorry #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #f1 x reader #f1 #formula one x reader #formula one x y/n #formula one x you #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo drabble #f1 drabble #daniel ricciardo fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #daniel ricciardo imagine #f1 x you #fic: you know me too well

[silenthillbunni]

🤧🐀🌧️🌊

#need to clear my head; #im in such a bad mood. my face is in a perpetual angry state. im just so so bitter nd pessimistic rn #trying not to get stuck in negative chaos thought spirals nd to just take it as it come #nd be patient bc recovery takes time i know. but i havent been able to feel healthy or functional for 7 months nd i am so tired #i cant help but worry abt my health nd what kinda diet i can have nd how to work all of that out. #like the removal of the gallbladder dont ensure a good digestive system. they remove it bc it can irrepairably hurt u #also im so so stressed out abt school nd my courses. i already had to drop one last week. nd it isnt looking like i'll be able to pass my #eng class.. it just isnt looking like it's realistic at all :/ i personally dont mind if i fail. but i can get issues w my wellfare hmm #bc like im still feeling rough nd u only get sick leave for one week after surgery.. so i have to go on thursday nd friday but im gnna #be in pain plus be so hungry nd be unable to concentrate idk #idk idk!! im already willing to take out loans to finish my upper secondary school.. but i have to make it work w timing nd stuff so im not #sitting here unable to pay rent or the bills or food lmao. so idk have to fix it somehow #nd the pressure of this country rapidly declining state is stressing me tf out!! having nazi conservative rightists in the ruling is just #dreadful!!!! for many reasons but atm idek if i can do distance classes like i wanted to :// #i just.. wanna be able to go for my long walks. go to the gym. eat normally. have coffee. study nd finish highschool. #then apply for whatever program i can nd move to another calmer city. prob eventually find a path to move to another country. like norway.. #im thinking too much but my thoughts are spinning nd killing me like i cant stop it im so scared nd anxious lmao 💀 #im also trying to be brave and write to the psych clinic for personality disorders nd be upset nd 'beg' them for help ksksksks. #but like... the thing abt having avpd is that i kinda dont wanna bc im scared of the possibility of them helping me lol #im just in a low place nd bad headspace and it's just getring worse nd im getting more nd more tired #i dont have much more energy to keep it together nd pretend like im ok or like i have hope lmaoooo idk what to do #anyway... idk idk guess i just gotta .. keep crawling forward anyway i can

[insertsickusername13]

Promises Made on October 30th

title is the concept and summary bc i thought of the title before the concept of the fic. whoops.

warnings: implied abuse, alcohol is referenced and consumed but not in like a bad way (most of the time), no smut but there's one scene where they kiss and i describe it in a gross way for some reason and sex is talked about once or twice

word count: 3.6k

 Jake spent most nights alone. He had friends, sure, and plans most evenings. Dates with girls, parties to attend, and though he’d like to spend the rest of his life swimming in a fuzzy unconsciousness where he was only just aware of his existence, half passed out on someone else’s couch, dawn always sunk her rosy fingers into the horizon and one hostess or another was forced to give Jake a pitying look as they showed him to the door.

 My parents will be home soon, some would say, and Jake would leave with a bitter laugh. If he was lucky, he’d get to stay and help clean up. On the best days, he could sometimes sneak in a quick fuck with whatever girl was still around. 

 Most nights, though, he left before anyone had the chance to kick him out. He spent hours sitting on the floor of his living room, staring at the front door and waiting for them to come home. If he pretended hard enough, the pictures on the walls weren’t the most terrifying thing he had ever faced. Photographs from family weddings, birthdays, anniversaries, and award ceremonies all taunted him. His parents’ faces stared at him, scrutinizing every move as he trembled, cried, and broke down. Every sob echoed back like a bullet ricocheted off metal. He was sitting expressionless in the middle of a war zone watching soldiers (read: dreams) and civilians (read: his future) bleed out and die on the floor around him. 

 Despite holding onto the childish hope that things would get better, that the future held something more than loneliness for Jake Dillinger, there was still the undeniable truth that it wouldn’t. Jake was doomed. Life wasn’t going to be anything special for him—he was going to suffer and he was going to have to get used to it young. He hated his parents, himself, his girlfriend, his life, and his house. He wasn’t going to kill himself, he wasn’t a coward, but he wasn’t going to wake up every morning and fight to be okay. He was resigned to his sadness.

 Until Rich Goranski knocked on his door at 10 pm on September 17th and showed Jake that silence wasn’t the only thing that could exist in his house. 

 He didn’t wait for an invitation inside. The second Jake had opened the door, Rich pushed past him and into the kitchen. He wasn’t quite fast enough for Jake to miss the bruises on his cheekbones or the way he favored his right leg over his left. Jake cataloged the injuries and promised himself he’d ask about them later. 

 “The hell are you doing here?” Jake called after him, his tone tipping over the border between annoyed and concerned.

 Rich shrugged and settled on the kitchen counter. He seemed to only be slightly aware of Jake’s presence, more focused on the empty floor in front of him. His eyes were glassy in a way that suggested he’d already been crying and was done with it. Jake studied him, searching for his next move in Rich’s body language. If Rich looked like he was going to cry again, Jake could probably swoop in for a hug without being called gay. If he didn’t, Jake would probably offer a drink. Or a movie?

 “Stop looking at me like that,” Rich snapped. He was looking up at Jake, his eyes narrowed and lips pressed together, almost like he was challenging him. Jake flinched back, unsure of what he’d done to deserve such treatment. 

 “Like what?”

 “Like I’m a fucking math problem or some shit. I’m not. Just fucking talk to me.”

 Jake considered him. Though it was invisible to Rich, Jake could still see bullets and spears flying through the air as people screamed out war cries and fought with everything in them for land or oil or their families. Metaphorical war didn’t end just because a friend had shown up. Jake was always surrounded by imagined violence; always on the verge of fleeing. 

 “I don’t know what you want from me,” Jake answered. His voice was barely loud enough to be heard over the sound of a bomb going off in the distance.

 Rich forced out a bitter laugh and hid his face behind his hands. 

 “God, fuck, me either. I don’t know why I’m here. Just fucking distract me. Do whatever the hell you want.”

 Jake found his parents’ record player in the living room and hit play. It was the only thing he could think to do—why, he wasn’t sure. But Rich had said anything, so Jake did anything. Some song by The Police (god, the irony) drifted through the room, a byproduct of his parents’ last anniversary together in the house. Jake had long since stopped caring—it didn’t even hurt to know they’d danced in this room, laughed in this room, raised him in this room. 

 He turned back to Rich and was met with a small, borderline amused, “What the hell, Jake?”

 “You said I could do whatever I wanted.”

 “This is what you want?”

 “I dunno.”

 Rich laughed as he hopped off the counter. The sound was so pure Jake watched the blood-soaked carpets go from crimson to pink as the rain washed away the worst of it. A white flag waved in the distance. Rich swayed to the music mindlessly, still favoring his right leg. 

 “Dancing?” Jake asked, the single word enough to get across his message. Rich nodded as he took Jake’s hand in his own and pulled him in close. 

 “Why not? We’ve got nothing better to do.”

 So Jake learned about music and dancing and how small Rich could feel when Jake had his hands on his hips, fingers digging into his skin just to convince himself Rich was real instead of some fantasy made up as a coping mechanism for his parents’ leering memory. Silence wasn’t the worst thing to exist. Jake knew how to make it go away.

 Still, that did nothing to dispel the obvious and ever-painful emptiness. Jake could play record after record as loud as he wanted until he had every song memorized and could sing it from any room in the house, but it was still empty.

He stumbled into the kitchen, drunk and disoriented, his feet dragging across the tile floor. Each step was like wading through the ocean, sea monsters grabbing at his ankles and trying to drag him under. He gripped counters and walls to keep himself afloat just long enough for Rich to knock on his door and saunter in, his presence a song in and of itself. 

 Jake followed his every movement with every sense: his ears, listening to the sound of Rich’s footsteps. Taste: kissing the corner of Rich’s mouth—never his lips, Jake wasn’t gay, but close enough that he could convince himself there was something like love brewing between them. Touch: holding onto Rich’s hand, his clothes, his hair, latching onto the warmth of him to convince himself the air conditioner wasn’t too cold or the empty spaces too vacant. 

 Sight: looking at Rich and only Rich. If he only looked at his hazel eyes and dyed-red hair and, on the days when Jake was weak and scared, his lips, then the shadows in the corners of the room lightened into something manageable and the photos on the walls that functioned as the closest thing Jake had to family faded into… well, photos. Just photos. 

 Rich helped, but he wasn’t enough to make the emptiness go away until October 15th.

 He showed up in the same way he had before. Glassy-eyed, hurt, and willing to do whatever Jake wanted to make everything slightly okay for a little while. 

 Tonight, Jake chose balloons. 

 “You can’t be serious,” Rich groaned. He was on Jake’s couch, a glass of white wine in hand. Something imported from Italy, or maybe France? All Jake knew was that it cost four hundred dollars.

 Jake shrugged. “Isn’t Brooke’s birthday coming up? It could be for her party.”

 “This is literally just a fucked up coping mechanism, don’t pretend it’s anything else.”

 Jake sighed disappointedly and leaned back against the couch. He was on the floor in front of it, a pack of two hundred balloons in his hand. They were all different colors—some neon, some pastel, some black, and others white. He’d bought them on a whim at a Walgreens for twenty bucks with no particular plan. Faced with his barren living room, the only signs of human existence the expensive vases on the end tables and the overstuffed throw pillows, he’d decided he’d blow them up and throw them around just to add a splash of color. 

 Jake looked up at Rich. He was half asleep but tense, his face scrunched up and hands clenched. It’d been bad this time around. It hadn’t just been Rich’s existence that pissed his dad off—he’d done something. Probably something minuscule, like broken a glass or clogged the toilet, but it was enough that what was usually a couple of light bruises and a limp had turned to black and blue blemishes over his right eye and up his chest. His lip was busted and every breath seemed labored and painful. Jake, unsure of what else to do, ran his thumb over Rich’s pulse and whispered, “Please?”

 Rich opened one eye to look down at Jake. Amongst the annoyance and pain, Jake saw a flash of pity. Rich shifted uncomfortably. 

 “Fine, but I have at least two broken ribs so you’re going to have to accept the fact I’m only blowing up one or two of these.”

 “Of course,” Jake rushed out, his hands already fumbling with the packaging of the balloons. “I wouldn’t—if it hurts, you don’t have to. Obviously. Just—”

 Rich thoughtlessly threaded his fingers through Jake’s hair. Jake’s voice gave out. 

 “I don’t understand you,” Rich whispered, not even bothering to look at Jake. “You’re confident all day, and then the second it gets dark you freak out. I’m the same person I am all the time. I know you don’t want to hurt me. Calm down.”

 It was, of course, a trend Jake had noticed as well. At school, he could control his tone and inflections to the point he sometimes wondered if he was accidentally manipulating the people around him into loving him. Then at night, when his defenses were already broken down by hours of facing the empty, stormy seas that were his house, he could barely find it in himself to get out a sentence without stuttering. 

 He blamed it on the one lie Rich had told in his claim: that he was the same person. He wasn’t. There was something different about nighttime Rich that had Jake’s face feeling too hot and the silence turning into the sound of his heart beating circles in his chest. 

 “Sorry,” Jake replied softly, “I dunno why it happens. You make me nervous.”

 Rich raised an eyebrow. Jake shoved a purple balloon in his face and hoped that would be enough for the topic to be dropped. It was still too sensitive, still too in the early stages of development, for Jake to be prepared enough to vocalize the worst of it. Someday, maybe. Probably. Once he didn’t have Christine to distract him or Jeremy’s constant insults to scare him into suppressing every urge that didn’t perfectly line up with the picture everyone else had of him in their minds. 

 Rich took the balloon and started to blow it up. For Jake, the process was effortless. Rich struggled through it tediously, taking small breaths and wincing after almost every one. Jake hated to say that he’d originally interpreted Rich’s complaints as a joke, but his worry hadn’t really spiked until Rich choked out an awkward, muffled cough and pained groan. 

 “Do you need—”

 “No,” Rich breathed, “No, I’m fine. Shut up, Jake.”

 Jake turned back to his neon green balloon without a word. He’d blown up almost twenty by now, enough to coat half the living room in a thin layer of color. He thoughtlessly kicked one with his foot and smiled as he watched it hit a picture of his mother and uselessly bounce off. Smiling, he kicked another one. It hit a picture of himself as a child. 

 He turned to Rich to tell him—about what, he wasn’t sure. Kicking balloons? Hitting pictures of himself and his family? His coping mechanisms were getting more fucked up by the second—and was almost immediately paralyzed by… fuck, by Rich. Just Rich. 

 He was sitting crisscross on the couch, a balloon in his lap. He’d spent the last four and a half minutes blowing it up to just a little bigger than Jake’s head. It was still smaller than it was supposed to be but Jake wasn’t going to complain. It was physically impossible when he could barely get enough oxygen in his lungs to speak. It wasn’t that there was a crushing panic on his chest stopping him from breathing, it was something much brighter. There were so many butterflies in his stomach they were flying into his chest and choking off every inhale. 

 Rich’s lips were wet. That was really what doomed Jake. He’d previously been unaware that every time Rich removed the balloon from his mouth he felt the need to lick his lips, but now that Rich was focused purely on tying the balloon off and was giving Jake ample time to stare, Jake was forced to acknowledge the way his vision tunneled at the sight. The way his whole body seemed to go warm. 

 Jake turned fully to face Rich, the balloon in his hand completely abandoned in lieu of watching Rich stick his tongue out in frustration as he struggled to keep the balloon inflated while tying the knot. When he finally succeeded, he burst into a smile louder than any record Jake had played over the past month.

 Rich looked up, eyes bright, and faltered when he found Jake already staring at him. He cleared his throat as his face flushed red. 

 “Uh, hi,” he squeaked out. Jake wanted to scream. This was one of the differences that left him speechless. Daytime Rich would smirk and call him gay. This Rich just looked flustered. 

 “Hi,” Jake whispered back. 

 “Whatcha doin’?”

 Jake considered his response carefully. One song or another was playing softly in the background, the balloons were filling up the emptiness. Everything was kind of okay. Jake had nothing left to cope with. He just… 

 “I really want to kiss you right now,” he answered. Rich froze. 

 “What?”

 Jake got up just enough so he was kneeling, purple and green and red balloons gathered around his knees and feet and the coffee table his back was pressed up against. He leaned up so he was close enough to run his pointer finger down Rich’s jawline and nudge his nose against Rich’s.

 “You heard me. You can tell me to stop.”

 Rich remained silent. Jake thought he felt ocean waters rising around his waist, drowning his balloons and pictures in stormy salt water. So he did the only thing he could think of.

He kissed Rich like his life depended on it, because it did, and felt his heart start beating again for the first time in months when Rich kissed him back just as desperate and soft and messily. 

 Hands tangled in Rich’s hair, mouth open and his tongue practically shoved in Rich’s mouth, licking at teeth like they were nectar or ambrosia, he scrambled onto the couch, limbs slow and unsteady as he climbed over Rich and forced him back against the couch. He tried to get himself closer to his paradise, his respite, his island in the middle of the ocean, but all he got was a wretched screeching sound and the feeling of air-filled plastic against his chest. 

 He pulled away just enough for Rich to let out a small whine as they lost contact with each other.

 “Rich.”

 “Yeah?” Rich asked breathlessly, already trying to lean up and kiss him again. 

 “Get rid of the fucking balloon.”

 Rich’s eyes widened, almost comically so. Jake wanted to cry at the way that sent his heart into overdrive.

 “Yeah, yeah, right, hold on—”

 He threw it across the room. Jake found the balloons kind of useless now. He was so filled with giddiness and hope that he couldn’t even comprehend how anything could ever be empty. 

 Until October 30th. 

 Rich didn’t need to knock on Jake’s door or let himself in. Jake was at Rich’s house, banging on the door repeatedly, each knock echoing and panicked. He didn’t stop until Rich swung the door open, rumpled and half asleep. 

 “What the fuck?” 

 “I need to talk to you.”

 Rich glanced back inside—presumably at his dad—before nodding. 

 “Yeah, okay, lemme get changed and put on my shoes, then we can go.”

 Jake nodded rapidly. His mind was racing beyond what he could understand, landing on panicked responses before he even knew what had triggered his fight or flight. He didn’t stop moving even as Rich disappeared back into his house. His foot tapped against the concrete. His fingers picked at his nails and the fabric of his shirt and his hair. Curses ran through his mind like a broken record, repeated until the sound was imprinted on Jake’s brain. 

 Rich appeared and suddenly everything in Jake’s mind went silent. 

 “So… are we doing this here or…?”

 “My house. Not uh—” Jake glanced back behind Rich. Not near your father was the implied statement. Rich sagged with relief.

 “Okay, yeah. Let’s go.”

 Jake could feel Rich’s concern in his gaze. He was watching Jake’s every move as if preparing for something, like Jake was going to swerve the car off the road and into a ditch or shoot himself. It made Jake want to laugh. Or scream. Or cry. He was going to die. 

 He didn’t even make it back to his own house. It was only a six-minute drive and he only made it four minutes in before he pulled over on the side of the road and stormed out of the car, his whole body trembling. He didn’t know where he was going, just that he needed an escape from the cramped driver’s seat of his car. He needed the autumn air to stop him from overheating and the wide expanse of stars to talk him down from an anxiety attack. 

 Rich fumbled after him, too confused to be panicked and too disoriented to be calm. 

 “What the hell?! Slow down—”

 Jake halted and spun on his heel, eyes wide. They were by a pond with benches and a dock and a parking lot only twenty feet away. There were grills along the beach and a football in the grass. Jake almost screamed. Every sign of humanity felt like too much. If he was going to do this, he needed it to be in the middle of the desert or the empty expanse of space with no one but Rich around to hear his confession.

 No. Fuck it. He needed to do this now. 

 “I’m gay.”

 Rich seized up. He was only a foot away from Jake, close enough so when he finally regained control of his muscles, he was able to reach out and take Jake’s hands. 

 “Really?” he whispered, looking up at Jake with eyes that literally shone like gold or diamonds. Jake wanted to drown in it.

 He swallowed his shame, not caring that it burned at his throat, and said, “Yeah. Yeah, fuck. Not all the way. I like girls. But I like kissing you and I like boys and I… I just like you. All of you. All the way. I like you. I’m really sorry.”

 Rich broke out into a grin. 

 “Yeah?” he asked just for confirmation. Jake nodded again. 

 Rich jumped up into Jake’s arms, fully committed to getting as physically close as he could. He wrapped his legs around Jake’s waist and his arms around his neck and fingers in his hair and kissed him hard on the lips. Jake felt like he was at home for the first time in years.

 “Me too,” Rich said between kisses, “Me too. So much. So fucking much.”

 Jake smiled into every kiss, so ecstatic he could barely keep himself standing. He fell back into the grass whispering, “Run away with me. Forever. It’s terrible here. It’s so terrible.”

 Rich nodded in agreement and pressed a gentle kiss on Jake’s neck. 

 “They hate us and we’re gonna find someplace better. I have enough money. Just run away with me, please. We can go anywhere you want.”

 “Anywhere?” Rich asked. He sounded pained, like the word burned as it came out. Jake nodded and propped himself up on his elbows. 

 “Anywhere. Just promise me you won’t leave.”

 Rich smiled and kissed him again. 

 “I promise,” he murmured, “I promise you’re beautiful, I promise I’ll run away with you, I promise I won’t leave, I—”

 He paused. Dread burrowed itself like a bullet in Jake’s chest. He searched Rich’s expression for answers before Rich had the chance to start speaking again. 

 “Not… not tonight, though, okay? There’s something I gotta do first.”

 “Is it—?”

 “Don’t worry about it, Jake. It’s nothing. How about Sunday? Give me tomorrow to take care of things, then we’re gone.”

 November first. The day after tomorrow. 

 Jake could handle it. He’d host his Halloween party, break up with Christine, and tie up any loose ends he had left. He’d be gone before he ever had to clean up the hell of a mess his friends were sure to leave behind in his parents' house.

 “Promise?” he whispered.

 Rich nodded. 

 “Promise. I just need tomorrow.”

#yes there is an extended metaphor but it's super super vague and barely there #if anyone can figure it out i'll... i don't know i'm not giving you money but i'll do something bc i'll be very impressed #richjake #rich goranski #jake dillinger #bmc #squipped rich #be more chill musical #sparkly star fanfic #FUN FACT I FUCKING HATE THIS #i actually wrote a whole other fic before this today (i did so much writing from 8-10 pm my fingers hurt) #and i hated it so much i deleted it and started over and wrote this #I WAS FOUR THOUSAND WORDS IN #i don't think people realize i'm not joking when i say i hate my writing idk #like i try to phrase it in an at least somewhat funny way but i hope you all realize i know its bad #like i am completely aware of how utterly shitty it is #the only reason i post it is bc. i don't know actually #it just happens #my brain goes quiet when i write and it goes even quieter when i share it with people #so. yeah. i. i am in a mood rn lmao #i tried to hide the ranting deep in the tags hopefully no one notices #if you're still here fuck off this is my therapy

[curiosity-killed]

writing patterns tag game

tagged by @veliseraptor which makes this a little funny for me bc it's like 'wow one of my favorite writers has influenced how i write. shocking!!' anyway this is also cheating a little bc I didn't want to just do all the one-shots from 'in the orchid hour'

Rules: List the first line of your last 10 posted fics and see if there’s a pattern.

Hua Cheng whines a little, already breathless. (Cinnamon and cloves)

“I’m going to say it,” Zizhen says abruptly. (a truth universal)

Her brother was easy to love and difficult to know. (non nobis nati)

The first thing Amelia learns after her life ends is that it is very clear when her husband is in the room and when it’s the angel wearing his body. (where you go (i will go))

The first time he meets Crimson Rain Sought Flower, Mu Qing barely makes it out alive. (til my feet are memory)

Wen Qing has never liked Lan Wangji. (sixteen stitches)

When he was a child, Xie Lian knew every gentle touch a mother or friend could offer. (for saints have hands)

All silk begins with death. (mori)

When he drives the dowel into his master’s heart, Lang Qianqiu does not remove Fangxin’s mask. (wolf trees)

He did not come back to her all at once. (this, this)

...yeah I basically tend to either start in the middle of Things Happening or with like...a central idea, I guess? I like to keep first lines relatively short and to the point and ideally have some irony in them + some establishment of The Sitch. I tend not to stew over first lines as much as I do last lines but that's partially because usually they've been percolating in the back of my mind for a few hours/days while the fic concept (and words) slowly coalesce so. ????

#being too lazy to tag rn sorry i am glaring murder at one of my clients thru. slack. and also gmail. #tag meme #anyway this is also true of my original fic #tcp starts off with declaring callebero's death; slack tide starts with veria waist-deep in water; peacekeepers starts with micah's nightma #*nightmares/haunting #hm i guess those are all the novel-length wips i have atm #i....also don't remember how viral starts but it's been so long since i really touched that OR ren/avery that i'll probably just scrap and #start fresh when i do turn back to them #i will say because i'm usually trying to write fic as fast as i can before the inspiration skitters off again #i VERY rarely edit/revise fic #the exceptions are like...mori/off hesperus/whipstitch/heart + bone (only bc of clem) #so usually the first line is really just the first line i wrote which is often just me trying to get the idea down for myself as fast as i #can in terms of like Concept and mood/scene/etc

[bonetrousledbones]

tbh i miss when this fandom was just really fucking weird

#delete later if my brain decides this was a bad post lmao #but look listen i dont mean weird in like the Problematic Way i mean fucking weird in the sheer amount of AUs way #YEAH ppl look back on it and cringe and for good reason and YEAH there was a lot of wildly out of character takes running rampant BUT. #man it was so . goddamn fun ok #i could very well be wearing the Nostalgia Glasses but it is rlly strange seeing how much we've mellowed out since then #i rarely see characters kissing the evil versions of themselves anymore it breaka my heart #(granted that could be thriving in other places i wouldn't know lol i only use tumblr for fandom shit) #it just makes me think like. if we didnt get so crazy with the AUs i never would have made atbb #and therefore also would most likely not have the ocs and personal story i'm working on for myself #and also maybe i would have improved at a slower rate with my drawing & writing. hell maybe i wouldn't have fed those interests much at all #im rambling at this point its just. i am in a sentimental mood for cringe rn dont look at me <3

[pallases]

BITING BITING BITING BITING

#WHYYY am i strugglign sm with this rn. i'll finish on time probably seeing as im halfway to the word count and have an hour to go but. AAAAA #personal #the english chronicles #highkey i just want to be playing w code rn improving the stuff i have cutting unnecessary stuff down etc but they took my board away ☹️ #so sad also i kind of feel like i have entered a parallel universe the last few weeks where i am genuinely invested and flying high w #engineering and finding english tedious. smth is wrong w me i think #i mean i do enjoy the readings and the discussion still but i have Not been in a paper-writing mood lately #which. i mean granted who is in a paper-writing mood when they only have time to write the paper in a few hours. but still #the engineering chronicles

[majicmarker]

every day i open my fic docs and in abt 12 seconds i’m like “…i don’t feel like doing any of this” and then i close the docs

#i Cannot get in the mood lately #ik i’ll finish them ig it just won’t be in as ~timely~ of a fashion as i’d like #there’s just no enthusiasm for fandom in my heart rn #i rly need to separate fandom from fic i think? so i can rediscover the joy of just writing this stuff #and *then* i can finish everything #in the meantime… focus up on book stuff #and fic updates only when the mood strikes #bc if the mood’s not there then fic just becomes a chore i do for the sake of other ppl #rather than smthn i do for myself and then share with other ppl #bc that’s what fic is!!!! it’s for the writer!!!! and then we SHARE IT #we shouldn’t be Doing It *for* everyone else #it’s not a job it’s a hobby i’m sick of my weird guilt complex abt it!!!!?? #but Here I Am :// #kattyshack fic

[chieana]

reading is so magical, I really do just get teleported to a wonderful new world, just like that 🖤

#reading #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #reading one of pyr's fics I haven't read yet rn #and it's so lovely and wonderful #I didn't even realise it had gotten dark #hahaha #🖤🖤🖤 #I am literally only in a good mood because it's 11°C after weeks and weeks of frost #lmao

[televinita]

I was going to post a whole slew of happy-dance gifs to describe my mood right now but honestly this is just too fantastic.

#literally me RN #i realize it's more appropriate for Jurassic squee but idc #ninety-seven heart attacks along the way to this mood because #I have as much trust in these showrunners as Danny has in Lexi which is to say: complete and utter #trust and yet can still become Uncertain at a moment's notice (and then feel like a fool about it later) #but now the ninety-seven heart attacks have transformed into like. seven solid minutes of dying love declarations and Emotions to feast upon #with a happy ending but also such a big time skip that you can torture yourself with a Darkest Timeline AU if you want to #(also not that we have many fanfic writers but. there is SO MUCH ROOM TO WRITE THE MISSING SCENES) #I only feel THIS INSANE (and joyful) about television like once or twice a year at best and I am REVELING!! #honestly IDK if I felt it at all in 2021! i think my last RiotFest might have been the Criminal Minds finale in 2020! #(but don't quote me because I can't remember anything that isn't on LJ because my tumblr tags are crap) #not even Dominion sent me THIS around the bend (although that cam closest) #b&t spiral of 2022

[okay-babe]

Saw your Alastor request game and HAD to give it a try

A wholesome “ZIP ME”. Alastor helping with getting ready for the day or assist and just shows appreciation 🥰🥰🥰🥰

In love with you for requesting this prompt because I am in such a fluff writing mood rn <3

(Also for my anons who also requested this prompt, I still plan to write something for those as well, so they should be out before too long!)

Morning Routine

tags: alastor x fem! reader, established relationship, extreme levels of fluff, domestic bliss, soft alastor

Throughout your life (and death) you had woken up to many a nice view, from the rivers and lush wetlands of Louisiana to the sight of the city hundreds of feet below you.

And yet, none compared to the view of your beloved when he was half-ready for his day, which was typically the stage at which he woke you from your always deep and well needed slumber.

And today was no different.

Alastor hummed a distantly familiar tune from behind your still sleeping form as he slid in beside you on the bed you shared, body resting atop the covers as he leaned forward to press a kiss behind your ear. In response, you shifted slightly, nose scrunching the smallest bit as your lover's breaths tickled the soft flesh he had so very recently offered his affections to.

Alastor chuckled slightly under his breath at the sight, raising a gloved hand up to the exposed portion of your upper arm to run a feather-light touch down its length, immediately causing you to shiver.

After a few more moments of tickling breaths and nearly fleeting touches, your breathing pattern shifted slightly, eyes blinking open and squinting at the sudden invasion of light that was always there to greet you each morning.

Groaning softly, you were quick to close your eyelids once more, brow furrowed with displeasure at your wakefulness as the Radio Demon laughed beside you.

"Why good morning, dearest, how lovely to see you!"

He teased exuberantly as you huffed in reply, just barely opening your eyes enough to make it obvious that you were glaring at him before closing them once more to yawn.

"Ah ah ah,"

Your lover tutted from beside you, his grin wide and immensely amused as he continued,

"I'm afraid the time for rest is over, my dear. No more exhaustion allowed."

You scoffed in response, only just barely fighting off the urge to flip him off as you sat up slightly, tugging your knees toward your chest and blinking your blurred vision away to the sound of barely moving water and a whispered breeze that always seemed to flow through the far less inhabitable side of the room you and your husband slept in.

Satisfied with your vague efforts to get up for the day, Alastor hummed in contentment, standing just as he always did after waking you so he could continue his typical routine, allowing your hungry eyes to follow him eagerly.

It was like this every morning, and you'd be a fool to believe he didn't know and find some semblance of amusement within it, but even still you couldn't bring yourself to care.

You gained far too much enjoyment from watching your love's lithe and nimble fingers do up the buttons of his shirt and tie the fabric of his bow tie to feel any shame over it.

Or, at least, enough shame to make you stop.

You continued your enraptured staring for several more minutes, eyes trained heavily on the view of the overlord rolling up his sleeves and sliding his belt through the loops of his dress slacks as if he were a modern art exhibit designed to utterly enthrall you.

Your gawking continued all the way up until Alastor turned back toward where you were sitting upon the bed, his head tilted slightly in mock curiosity as he began to approach you once more, donning all but his coat, a sight which made you blush in spite of yourself.

Sure, you had known the demon for an extremely long time and had seen him in far more compromising and promiscuous positions and outfits than this, but still. There was just something about the sight of him, dress shirt sleeves rolled up over his elbows and svelte torso and legs so clearly in view, that made your heart rate quicken inside your chest.

"You're going to be late, you know."

Alastor all but crooned suddenly, snapping you out of your reverie with a few quick blinks and an awkward clear of your throat.

"Huh?"

You asked, sitting up slightly further as your lover began to leisurely unfold the clothing he'd laid out for you at the foot of the bed earlier that morning, no doubt all too aware of how slow you were prone to waking up and hoping to save some time.

The overlord chuckled, a subtle shake of his head highlighting his amusement as he looked in your direction once more, red eyes lingering in a manner that reminded you of just how tremendously the being standing at the end of the bed adored you.

He regarded you with a gentle and exasperated fondness as he replied,

"The reopening is today, dear heart."

He purred, grin as wide as ever as he approached further, extending his hand outward and helping to maneuver you so your legs were hanging off the side of the bed, ignoring the sudden panic in your expression brought on by his words and quickly silencing it before it could be vocalized with a quick press of his lips to yours.

He pulled away slowly afterward, index finger curling beneath your chin and lifting it to ensure you were looking him in the eye,

"And whatever would we do without our darling front desk receptionist there to woo our guests on sight?"

His tone was teasing now, lilting and oh-so amused as he took both of your hands in his and slowly pulled you upward and onto your feet, humming that same distantly familiar tune from earlier all the while.

"Not to worry though."

Alastor continued with a mocking tap of his index finger against the tip of your nose,

"With my help you'll be up and ready with time to spare."

He winked at that, instantly causing you to roll your eyes before knowingly bringing your arms up above your head, causing your love's grin to widen further at your immediate understanding of what was to come.

"Well look at you!"

He cried with feigned surprise and delight as he grasped gently at the hem of your sleep shirt, tugging it upward and over your head with a flourish before he knelt down before you and pulled your underwear downward just the same, his eyes never once leaving yours as he did so.

"You're becoming a regular pro at this, darling."

You scoffed a bit at that, though your lack of exasperation was made clear by the lifted corners of your mouth, never quite able to lay flat with your Alastor around.

Humming a different tune now, the sinner reached behind you on the bed to grasp at a new pair of undergarments for you, holding them open to make them easy to step into before pulling them up and rising with them, laying the fabric flat upon your hips before moving to help you with your bra.

Far too used to this process by now, you simply sighed and let your lover do as he would, your still tired body leaning into his every touch as he ran skilled fingertips up and down your spine and pressed them dexterously into the tense muscles of your shoulders until he felt you were sufficiently relaxed beneath his hands.

Once that was finished, he was quick to have you sit upon the bed, long fingers grabbing at your stockings and garters and bunching them up expertly before sliding them onto your feet and up your soft legs and thighs with ease, though he was notably slower with this task than he'd been with the previous two, taking his time to admire you and allowing his hands to feel your skin before covering it with the fabric in his grasp.

When he was finally satisfied with the state of your stockings, Alastor leaned back slightly, taking in the sight of you with a pleased smile and an ever adoring look in his eye before he placed twin kisses against the skin just above where your garters held your stockings into place, as if in farewell.

It was then and only then, with his desires to admire you satisfied (at least in part) that your beloved grabbed your work attire from the bed. It was something he had chosen for you himself when considering the concept of uniforms, a sweet yet professional looking black dress that you knew from having tried it on a few days prior fit you perfectly, (no doubt because your lover had long since memorized your measurements and given them to the tailor himself).

Pooling the rich fabric at your feet, Alastor looked up at you expectantly, and immediately, you stepped into the middle of it, allowing him to once more pull another garment up your body, rising with it as he had previously with your underwear until your arms were in the sleeves and all there was left to do was zip up the back.

Feeling the cool breeze upon your spine, you shivered slightly, the difference in temperatures striking.

"Al,"

You murmured, adjusting your hair to ensure it wouldn't get in the way of what came next,

"Would you mind?"

Immediately, the overlord was nodding in almost enthusiastic agreement, motioning for you to turn around for him to provide access to the still unzipped portion of your dress.

"Why of course not, dear heart. Let me see."

Blushing at the nickname in spite of it having seen years of persistent use, you did as you were told, turning 180 degrees until you were facing away from your lover, back bared to him so his deft fingers could easily find the gold trimmed zipper there.

Grasping onto the metal between his thumb and forefinger, the demon slowly began to tug it upward with a notable level of patience, his opposite hand moving to your shoulder to push at some of the fabric there until he'd created a patch of bare flesh to press a few soft kisses to, his teeth nipping at you ever so gently from time to time just to make you jump in surprise at the unexpected sensation.

This continued for a few quiet and very much appreciated moments until finally, the overlord moved away with a dramatized sigh, pulling the black fabric of your sleeve back over your shoulder before he finished zipping your dress up the rest of the way.

Hearing your darling take a step back from where he'd been standing just behind you, you were quick to turn around to face him, your smile growing brighter when you saw the immediate fondness and adoration in his eyes, that thinly veiled softness he reserved solely for you so very apparent that it made your heart lurch happily inside of your chest.

"What do you think, Al, am I presentable?"

You asked lightheartedly, giving him a slow spin as if wanting to make sure he saw every possible angle.

Alastor all but scoffed in response, though his eyes betrayed his affections far too obviously, making it easy to tell just how much he was enjoying your slightly slower morning together.

"Don't be silly darling, you're always the belle of the ball."

He teased, reaching out to take one of your hands in his eyes as he spoke, using it to tug you closer until you were nearly chest to chest with him, eyes widened in surprise.

The next thing you knew, his lips were on yours, warm, loving, and slow, before he finally pulled away with a sigh, expression contented and smile exceedingly genuine.

"Come on then, dear."

He said after a moment of silence, stepping away once more to guide you toward the bathroom attached to the room the two of you slept in,

"Let's finish getting you ready before Charlotte sends poor Vagatha after us for being so late."

#alastor x reader #alastor imagine #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x you #hazbin x you #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel #.writes #requests #alastor fluff #alastor x reader fluff

[fangirl-dot-com]

Chapter 18 - All For You

Guys, I fear this one may be worse than the last angsty one I wrote. Am I getting better or worse? – I have no clue…I’m just in a super angsty mood rn 

Also, I know that it “Born to Break Records” I said that Max didn’t know about reader’s godfather passing. What I meant to say was that he didn’t know at the time when he gave reader the trophy after she won her debut f2 race. But, because reader has a special helmet for Imola since Lorenzo was Italian, she’d have to tell him about the helmet. 

TW: EMOTIONAL ABUSE, HARSH LANGUAGE, SHITTY PARENTS, AND PHYSICAL ABUSE

I am prepared for the therapy bills…

How does someone write “and they swapped spit” in a romantic way?? Asking for a friend 

Like always comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated! 

TAG LIST IS CLOSED 

It couldn’t be them. 

You blinked and stared in the direction that you had been previously looking. Your eyes narrowed as you gazed at the small crack of the garage and where the gate was. You quickly placed your special helmet down on a table and dodged mechanics as you stepped out. Mitch barely glanced at your leaving as you often went to visit other drivers before the race if you had time. And today, the parade was a bit earlier, so most of the drivers used this time to destress a bit more than usual. 

As you got closer, two familiar people stood out to you. Right now, they were arguing with one of the Red Bull security guards. Your face grimaced as you could hear the shouting multiple feet away. 

As you got closer, your blood ran colder. You knew it was a bad idea to come out here, but it was like a moth to a flame or even a lamb to a slaughter. You couldn’t stop your feet until you were just a few steps away. 

“Mom? Dad?” 

The group of three’s heads swerved toward yours. The security guard, who you recognized to be Frederik, looked at you with a questioning face. The other two looked relieved but also angry at you. 

Your father rolled his eyes and pointed toward you before yelling at Fred. “See, I told you that we were her parents, now let us in,” he demanded. 

Your heart dropped a bit at the statement. You were never one to stand up to your father, especially when he was already angry. 

Your hear barely nodded, almost as if you were trying to even convince yourself that you were fine with them invading your life. 

Fred looked over with concern. 

“It’s ok Fred.” 

“Are you sure kid?” 

Your mother huffed. “She said it was fine. Now let us through.” 

Fred sure took his sweet time to unlock the gate, something that you could find some thankfulness for. 

Your mother came close to you first and wrapped you in an awkward hug: one that you did not return as it was too quick to reciprocate. Your father just stood there, with the same disappointing stare he always had. 

You put your hands to the side. “What are you two doing here? Last I knew is that you wanted nothing to do with me.” 

Your father rolled his eyes and your mother let out a squawk. “Is that what you’ve been telling your friends? Goodness gracious child, going around speaking lies.” 

You winced at her demeaning tone. 

Your father spoke next. “You make it into Formula 1 and forget everything that we did for you? How fucking pathetic.” He all but spit out the last word.

“Kid!” 

Your head whipped around at lightning speed. Mitch was waving at you from the garage, a curious look on your face.

You tried to give her a smile, but it didn’t quite reach your face. “Coming!” You turned toward your parents. “You can follow me, but please do not touch anything and just stand in the corner.” 

That earned another round of scoffs and groans. 

“Someone has gotten bratty I see,” you mother seethed. 

You paid no attention and walked back to the garage. You only knew that they followed you because you had memorized their footprints long ago when you were too scared to even get out of your room on multiple occasions. There was a difference between their normal strides, angry strides, and sneaky strides that they used when they tried to “catch” you doing something you shouldn’t have been doing – like getting an extra snack because they “forgot” to make you dinner. 

You had hoped that Max, Christian, Vito, or even Mitch would be right there when you walked in, but the universe definitely hated you today. The said four were standing in a little circle, probably going over some last minute data. You had stopped in the entrance and watched them, scared that they would ask questions.

While you were watching, a rough shove was directed toward your back, sending you to the floor and making a noise. Your knees were definitely bruised now and your hands were scraped on the concrete. Max, Christian, Mitch, and Vito all turned toward the noise. You had just gotten back up and continued walking, parents behind you. 

Some of the engineers had watched your father push you and were starting to question as to who he thought he was, pushing you around like that. 

“Oops, didn’t see you there,” your father said. 

Vito’s back straightened in defense when his eyes looked at your parents. You shot him a sorry look as he made eye contact with you. 

“Ah there you are kid. We were just going over some last minute notes. Who might this be?” Christian asked, walking toward you. Right now, he was thinking that they might be some older couple that you might have known from your childhood. 

Boy, was he wrong. 

Your eyes glanced back at your parents and sent Christian a look, trying to communicate to him that you really didn’t want these two in the garage. 

“Uh, Christian, these are my parents.” Your hands lightly raised in the air, as if to show them off. 

Christian’s eyes darkened as he looked at the couple. Max behind him was mentally killing them both. Mitch was just wondering about how she could get you out of this uncomfortable situation. 

“Y/n didn’t tell me that we’d be having personal guests today,” Christian said, folding his arms in a defensive pose. 

You prayed that your father wouldn’t roll his eyes at your boss. 

Your father only stared at the slightly taller Brit before looking at you, annoyance evident on his face. Your mother, once again, scoffed. 

“Wow,” your mother let off a very fake giggle, “our own daughter didn’t tell you that we were coming? Shows you how much appreciation kids have these days.” Another fake laugh followed. 

Max winced at the sight of your crest-fallen face. You looked absolutely miserable. 

“Hmmm, doesn’t sound like our kid.” Christian tried to back you up. 

Your mother had walked over to where you special Imola helmet was laying. She picked it up and twirled it around. 

It was a beautiful piece of work. The colors of the Italian flag blended beautifully. On the side you had Lorenzo’s crest with his birthdate and death-date underneath as a tribute to him. You watched as her lip curled in disgust. But, you also saw as one of the mechanics came up and took it directly from her, telling her that no one but you or authorized personelle should be touching it. 

Christian spoke up again, “Well, we are very busy right now and I need to speak to my drivers.”

But before Christian could get you away, Max stepped forward, a false smile on his lips and a hand stretched out. 

“Max Verstappen, three time World Champion.’ 

You knew this shpeel very well. Max only said the whole title when he was over someone’s bullshit, or he knew that they were just using him for his fame. 

Your father had some type of dumbstruck look as he took Max’s hand. The fuming Dutchman used this opportunity to tightly squeeze his hand, tighter than a normal handshake should have been. It made him happy to see your father wince at the grip. 

Your father’s hand then came and rested on your shoulder. You tensed as his grip got much harder and harder, probably leaving yet another bruise. “My daughter has a lot to accomplish if you’re her teammate. Good thing she doesn’t have the talent to outshine you.” 

You hated it when your father belittled you. He had done this multiple times in front of old friends. He was a manipulator and a narcissist. Your breath, that had been a bunch of harsh inhales and exhales, started to hitch. Clear signs of a panic attack were just around the corner. And your team could tell that you were about to possibly have a meltdown if you didn’t get out now. 

Mitch finally spoke up. “We have a race in just under 30 minutes and I need to privately go over something with my drivers. Max and Y/n, please follow me. Christian, I need you as well and Vito you know what to do, we’ll be in the main driver’s room (Max’s driver room).” 

Your manager gave your parents one last glare before rushing out of the Red Bull garage. 

Mitch was totally bullshitting them because it was actually closer to 45 full minutes rather than less than 30. 

Max held your shoulders, much lighter than your father had. He noticed your breathing had started to pick up. He sent a worried glance at the Team Principal who was currently clearing the way. 

To you, it felt like your head was underwater. Everything was blurry as you looked at the world through tears, and your head felt as though it was stuffed with cotton. Your skin felt tingly and it pricked where Max’s hands were now gently holding your elbows as he guided you to the room. You could barely hear them trying to get you to calm down. 

Once in the room, you had sunk to the floor and wrapped your arms around yourself, as a means of protection. Hands waved in front of your face, trying to get your attention as you stared numbly forward. Each wave shook a flinch out of your body. 

A sudden inhale brought on ugly sobs as you tried to breath out apologies for things you didn’t know. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again. Please, please don’t hurt…me.” 

Your speech was broken, along with the hearts of Max, Mitch, and Christian who watched their strong girl break down because of someone who should have loved you. Quick knocks on the door alerted the room of someone else. 

You suddenly froze, not breathing, as you were thinking that your parents were about to invade yet another safe space. Yet, your vision was filled with red and familiar cologne. 

Your body acted on autopilot as your arms wrapped around the familiar figure of your boyfriend. 

His voice was still fuzzy as he started to rock you back and forth. 

Arthur looked around at the pained faces of your teammate, race engineer, manager, and team principal as they all looked down at you. 

Christian kneeled down next to the younger Monegasque. “Is there anything we can do?” 

He thought for a moment. You were curled sideways in his lap. Your legs were scrunched in fetal position, arms wrapped around his bicep as you clung to him. Your head rested against his chest with your eyes still closed. 

“Her blood sugar gets low after an attack, can someone find some juice?” Vito and Christian all but bolted out the door. 

“Mitch can you turn off the light? And Max, please rub her back. I’d do it, but her arms are wrapped around mine.” 

The lights suddenly dimmed behind your eyelids and a hand gently touched your bad, trying to see if you’d flinch. When your back didn’t tense, Max continued to apply gentle pressure and his hand moved in small circles. 

A big sigh escaped your lips as you came down from your sobs. Your lungs burned with each ragged breath, but they were thankful for new oxygen. 

Your eyes remained closed as you took a minute to get your bearings in order. You tried to count down in your head starting from 100, which normally helped you calm down faster. You finally cracked your eyes open and sat up a bit straighter. The hand that was soothing on your back lifted away. A whine almost escaped your lips, but you reeled it in. 

Arthur took notice of your open eyes and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “How are you doing? You were out of it for a while. Much longer than usual.” 

You hummed. “I’m ok. A bit…” 

“Thirsty?” The voice of your manager sounded as he walked in with multiple juice boxes in his arms, Christian behind him with even more juice boxes, and a certain Monegasque driver carried a variety of snacks in his arms. 

Your eyes widened with excitement as your hand reached up to grab an apple juice from Vito. Arthur quickly took it from you and pressed the straw in and held it to your lips. 

“Small sips,” he reminded you. You wanted to roll your eyes, but you knew he was right. 

After a couple of sips, you asked, “How long was it this time.” 

Your legs finally stretched out from their crunched position. 

“Almost twenty minutes,” Mitch told you, handing you an icepack to put on your head. She guessed that you may be prone to migraines after panic attacks and got you one just in case. Mitch was glad to see you take it and put it on your head immediately. 

The room was silent for a moment, before Max spoke. 

“Kid, what were they doing here?” 

You sighed. “I thought I saw them and I went to go check it out. Turns out it was them, and I really can’t speak up against my dad when he’s angry.” 

Arthur concluded, “So he bullied you into getting what he wanted?”

You winced at the word, but nodded just the same. 

Christian spoke up. “I couldn’t get them kicked out of the grand prix since they had tickets, but they aren’t going to be in the garage. Do you feel all right to race today?” 

“You don’t have to kid if you aren’t feeling well,” Mitch also added on. 

You shook your head. “No, I want to race.” 

The room knew what this weekend meant for you. When you had happily shown them your new helmet, their eyes had welled with tears as you talked about the man who loved you more than life itself. 

Max, who hadn’t known until Wednesday, had given you the biggest hug when it was a good moment. You didn’t know who was comforting who at that moment, but the hug would go down in your list of top 5 hugs ever. 

Arthur sensed that you wanted to stand by the way you were wiggling. He slowly helped you to his feet as he pressed another juice box into your hands. Charles quickly opened a bag of Cheetos as you stared at the orange bag. 

“I ran to Logan,” he simply stated. He knew that the American was the one who always had your favorite snacks on hand. One, because it was a big American brand, and two, the blond had a soft spot for you and always kept them stocked. 

You took the orange twist and happily munched on the snack. The digital clock on Max’s desk showed that there was about 10 minutes left until you needed to get into the car. You quickly finished the small bag and chugged the rest of the juice. 

Christian had to step out and start heading to the pit wall. Mitch followed the older Brit so that she could get to her spot inside the garage. Max and Charles left because Max needed to go over some things with GP, while Charles had to run back to Ferrari to get into his own car. 

Vito stayed behind to check on you for just a few more moments. He knew first-hand how scared your dad and mom made you feel.

Then it was just you and Arthur for a couple of minutes. Your forehead pressed against his. 

“Thank you, for coming to help.” 

Arthur chuckled. “You really need to stop scaring me. No flipping today, ok?” 

You nodded before he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips this time. He tried his best not to smile into the kiss, but he couldn’t help it. 

You gently punched his chest. “Thur, you do that every single time.” 

Arthur brought you back closer. “It’s just because you make me so happy chéri.”  

You gave him another peck, before you led him out of the room. He helped you put your helmet on, and did his ritual “forehead kiss” to the top of it. With your handshake also done, you climbed into your car. The mechanics who had seen you with your parents made sure that you were all right. They were met with a bright smile and a thumbs up from you.

For this race, you qualified rather high. Max had pouted because today had been a Ferrari front-row lock out. You had to remind him that he had beaten Charles before from starting father back. It seemed to pacify the Dutchman. 

Starting Grid 

Charles Leclerc  

Carlos Sainz 

Max Verstappen 

Lando Norris 

Y/n L/n 

George Russell 

Lewis Hamilton 

Daniel Ricciardo 

Logan Sargeant 

Alex Albon 

Oscar Piastri 

Lance Stroll 

Fernando Alonso 

Yuki Tsunoda 

Nico Hulkenberg 

Pierre Gasly 

Esteban Ocon 

Valtteri Bottas 

Zhou Guanyu 

Kevin Magnussen 

To say this would be one of your worst races (and you'd DNF-ed before), would be an understatement. Your migraine had come back and your water was completely out by the last quarter of the race. You hadn’t been able to keep Charles off for long for Max to catch up, which made Charles take the lead in the second half. 

Max had also been confused as you had dropped behind him as well when you should have been your strongest. 

You loved racing, but today you hated it. Your brain felt as though it was pounding with a sledge hammer against your skull. 

“For the first time in almost two years, Charles Leclerc has grabbed a victory. Charles Leclerc is the winner of the 2024 Imola Grand Prix. Max Verstappen clinches second with his rookie teammate Y/n L/n right behind him to make it a 2-3 for Red Bull. They are followed by Lando Norris and Lewis Hamilton…” 

Race Results 

Charles Leclerc – 25 points 

Max Verstappen – 18 points 

Y/n L/n – 15 points 

Lando Norris – 12 points 

Lewis Hamilton – 11 points 

Oscar Piastri – 8 points 

Alex Albon – 6 points 

George Russell – 4 points 

Logan Sargeant – 2 points 

Carlos Sainz – 1 point 

Fernando Alonso 

Yuki Tsunoda 

Pierre Gasly 

Kevin Magnussen 

Nico Hulkenberg 

Zhou Guanyu 

Valtteri Bottas 

Esteban Ocon 

Lance Stroll 

Daniel Ricciardo 

Standings After Imola 

Max Verstappen – 168 points 

Charles Leclerc – 120 points 

Y/n L/n – 80 points 

Lando Norris – 73 points 

Lewis Hamilton – 60 points 

Oscar Piastri – 53 points 

George Russell – 35 points

Carlos Sainz – 34 points  

Alex Albon – 26 points 

Fernando Alonso – 23 points 

Daniel Ricciardo – 21 points 

Logan Sargeant – 19 points 

Lance Stroll

Pierre Galsy 

Yuki Tsunoda

Zhou Guanyu 

Kevin Magnussen 

Nico Hulkenberg 

Valtteri Bottas 

Esteban Ocon 

Constructors Standings 

Red Bull – 248 points 

Ferrari – 153 points 

McLaren – 126 points 

Mercedes – 95 points 

Williams – 45 points 

Aston Martin – 23 points 

Racing Bulls – 21 points 

Alpha Romeo 

Haas

Alpine 

When you pulled into Parc Ferme, you barely had the strength to get out of the car. You only found out that you needed to get out was when Max lightly tapped your helmet and held out a hand. You gratefully grabbed it and Max hauled you out. 

“Are you ok?” he asked, with concern storming in his blue eyes. A nod of your head pacified him for now. 

Your headache only got worse when you spotted your parents standing at the wall. You tried to send the team apologetic looks when you walked right past them, something you never did even if you didn’t even podium for a race. You always ran to their open arms. 

You’d send them lots of coffee and gifts for their families to make up for it. 

You kept your helmet on for as long as you could. It helped to damper all the loud noise of the paddock. 

Max and Charles both recognized that you wanted little to no noise if possible, so they kept quiet or spoke in soft whispers if they did speak. You immediately sat down in a corner, trying to cool off and will your migraine away. 

You only opened your eyes once again when you were called to the podium. You were thankful that you didn’t feel any panic as you walked out and stood on the lowest step. You watched as Max walked out and stood on the second place step before watching Charles almost skip to the top step. You giggled as you watched the Ferrari driver subtly stick his tongue out at Max. For a moment, you were scared at the repercussions but Max only smiled and rolled his eyes.  

You took off your cap for the Monegasque anthem along with the Italian one. When you were handed your trophy, you gently kissed it (even though it didn’t light up) and held it to the sky while also pointing. The two older drivers watched as you looked so happy. Deep down, they wanted you to be on the top step, but your time was coming. 

Max was then handed his trophy. His lips were a bit tight, but he’d get over it. 

Charles was quite the opposite. You guessed that he was finally happy that his dry spell was over. A sixth career win and first in almost two years. You clapped as the red-clad driver held his trophy proudly. 

Your head was still pounding, but the migraine was slowly going away. You didn’t have much strength to do your usual champagne cannon, but you still sprayed Charles as much as you could. When there wasn’t anything else to spray, you poured the rest on your teammate. 

You had a giant smile on your face as you looked down at the crowd. Yet, it slowly disappeared as your eyes found your parents, looking up at you with distain clearly written on their faces. You turned to Max, who was already looking down as well. 

He pointed down, though, right next to them where Christian and Geri were both standing, proud smiles on their faces as they looked up at you. 

Geri was trying to communicate for you and Max to stand closer and to smile for her camera. You quickly put your hand around his waist to bring him in closer. With trophies raised and bright smiles, she held a thumbs up when she took the picture. Christian just continued to look at the two of you as though you had just won him every single race possible. 

You were then assured off the podium and back to the garage. 

“I promise, I’ll find you after. You know how much I hate wearing my clothes after they get sticky,” you told Max as you walked toward your drivers room. 

You had barely just gotten you shirt on when your door opened and closed. 

Your rolled your eyes. “You couldn’t have just waited?” 

You turned, expecting either Max or your boyfriend. Yet, you were met with a slap across the face. Your cheek stung as you shakily raised a hand to touch it. A hiss left your lips when your fingers glazed your reddening cheek.

You barely had time to get try to get away, before another hand hit the side of your head, making your migraine slowly creep up again. 

This time, a sob slipped through your lips as you looked at your parents, who were fuming.

“What did I do?” you tried to get out, voice cracking. 

“After everything we did for you, you can only get a shitty third place?” your mother spit. 

“Seriously, how fucking pathetic do you have to be. Offering up the trophy to someone who is dead?” your father questioned. 

It was your turn to suddenly seethe. You pointed a finger at your dad. “He loved me. He taught me everything I know.” You knew you were pressing his buttons, and you were about to press the big red one that says Do Not Press. “He was the man that you’d never be.” 

Another hit to the face had your head swinging. You knew that there would be a big bruise in the morning. But you were proud for finally standing up to him. 

Your mother’s hand hit the other side of your face, sending you staggering back to your dad. You braced yourself for another hit, but it didn’t come. Your eyes opened and widened at the sight of your teammate with murder in his eyes. 

Christian was behind him, on the phone, with your manager to the right, boyfriend and his brother on the left.

“You touch her one more time and you’re fucking dead,” Max spoke, scarily calm. Your father jerked to hit him, and that was game over.  

Security came quickly after Max had some more colorful words and quite possibly a hit to his face so that your father’s matched yours. 

Arthur had come to wrap his arms around you, as a protective barrier. 

As you watched your mother and father be led out by cuffs, the news coming that they had been banned for life from any Formula 1 activity, and that Vito had now gotten you a restraining order (something he said that he should have done years ago just in case) – you knew that you had finally found the family that you had always wanted. 

The family that you had always needed.   

And you’d keep racing and winning, because 4 years ago, you made a promise. 

To keep going and to keep fighting. 

As you walked out of the garage, with a third place trophy and your helmet, you gently pressed your own kiss to the top of it. 

“You’d be proud of me,” you whispered, “and it’s all for you. Because you were everything that I needed.” 

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 Imola was an experience. Glad I could podium in my late godfather's country to make him proud. I wish he could have been standing there to watch me today, but I have three other men who are enough for me. To Christian, Max, and Vito - I love you three, thanks for always watching my back. Oh, and my boyfriend is pretty great too, he's just shy. Thank you for an amazing experience, I'll be back next year to win (Charlie move over)

tagged: christianhorner, maxverstappen1, and vito_official

liked by christianhorner, maxverstappen1, vito_official, and 94,294 others

y/n_nation I'm not sobbing, you're sobbing

kid_y/n geri and christian both smiling like proud parents killed me

maxverstappen1 why would you do this?

y/n.89 ?? charles_leclerc he's crying right now y/n.89 oh, sorry not sorry?? maxverstappen1 you will be

christianhorner I know I can't speak for him, but he'd be so proud of you kid

gerihalliwellhorner we love you sweetie! can't wait for the next family dinner! maxverstappen1 family dinner? sebastianvettel you didn't get the invite?? y/n.89 oh no christianhorner uhhhhhh charles_leclerc he's crying again

mad_max the way that in every picture, they're looking at y/n

y/n_updates aahhhh the boyfriend has been mentioned!!!

y/n.89 I can't believe we're going to the track that THEE lightning mcqueen drove on

arthur_leclerc you mean...the Monaco Grand Prix....where you live...my hometown...Charles's home race... liamlawson she said what she said - lightning mcqueen's race charles_leclerc I'm done y/n.89 LIGHTNING MCQUEEN RESPONDED TO ME???? LIAM LOOK AT THIS liamlawson I'M LOOKING charles_leclerc goodbye y/n.89 DON'T GO

f1 see you all in Monaco!

author can everyone forgive me now?

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[h4ndwr1tten]

𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭?

characters — nanami kento x reader

note — this took me a long ass time to write. if it seems familiar to any other works, i requested something with the same plot on someone else's blog lololol. THIS IS PART 1 AS IT'S A LITTLE LENGTHY!!! dividers by benkeibear.

(am i posting this on nanami's birthday? yes.)

cw — not proof read, established relationship, kinda ooc nanami? like one mention of sex, pregnancy, strong language, arguing, crying, accusations of cheating, hurt/no comfort.

synopsis — the test results are positive and you aren't ready. when you try to hide this from your boyfriend of 5 years, he assumes the worst.

part 1 | part 2

this wasn't supposed to happen. it shouldn't have happened. you both took every precaution possible to prevent an outcome neither of you were prepared for — from condoms, to birth control, to plan b. it had kept you safe for as long as you started having sex. you never found yourself worried about carrying a life in you for 9 months.

so why now does the test read positive?

it felt like the world stopped moving. you didn't even know if you were still breathing. your heart had fallen into the pit of your stomach, your eyes wide and full of disbelief. you couldn't believe it. it couldn't have been correct. the 99% accurate claim on the kit had to be lying. there was no way it could've been true.

it took some time, but you were able to tear your gaze away from the test. you looked up to the ceiling, blinking away the hot tears you could feel building up. you took a few deep breaths and tried to swallow down the lump in your throat, your fingers trembling around the test.

you've thought about having kids before. you did want them, just not now. you were unprepared for this. how do you raise a kid when you aren't ready, when you aren't even married?

then it hit you — nanami's involved in this too.

the realization made you feel 10x worse. if you weren't ready for a child, you could only imagine how he would feel about this. his life was going so well right now. he was happy with his career and his salary, he was content with the apartment you both shared, and he was even more happy to be with you. he had his whole life and future planned out. he knew when he would retire and even what he'll do in life after he retires. nanami saw you in his future, you were always there when he would think of it. but would you still be there if he found out you were currently pregnant with his child?

you two had never fully talked about having kids together. you both were confident that you would spend the rest of your lives together. you've discussed marriage, homes, and briefly, kids. it was never a deep conversation — you only ever talked about having them and how many there would be. but never about having them earlier than expected.

gosh, you felt like shit. utter, absolute shit. you felt even worse for nanami. you felt like you were going to ruin his life plans. you felt like this would be the downfall of your relationship. and if it was, who knew if you would ever recover.

your phone buzzed with a notification, pulling you back to reality. you didn't realize tears had fallen until one slipped from your chin and landed on the hand gripping the test. you stood from where you sat on the closed toilet and checked your phone. it was a text from nanami.

i'll be home soon, my love. do you want me to bring anything home?

he was so caring. always considering you, always putting you first. you couldn't help but feel even more guilty.

hi ken. could you get some takeout pls? i'm sorry, i'm not in the mood to be cooking rn.

of course. want anything specific? are you feeling alright?

i'm fine. you can choose tonight :)

alright then. i'll be home soon, i love you ❤️

i love you too 💕

you shut your phone off and placed it back on the counter, screen facing down. you felt horrible — he was always thinking of your needs before his. would this end now that your carrying his child? certainly he wouldn't want to have to worry about another person in his life at the moment. you wouldn't want him to worry.

you stood from the toilet seat, about to leave the restroom when you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. your face was bright pink and red, your eyes also red but not super puffy and swollen. some people might think it was allergies, but not nanami. nanami wasn't some people — he knew you better than anyone, perhaps even yourself. he could see right through you, read you like a book. you began to worry what he would say if the pigment in your face didn't fade in time, if he would ask if you had been crying.

what would you say if he did ask? he knows you so well, it's nearly impossible to lie to the man. you could say you were rewatching your favorite show and got emotional, or reading another chapter or more of the book he bought you the other day. but nanami isn't dumb. he would catch on before you could even finish your excuse, he'd know something's up.

you sighed, inhaling and exhaling deeply. you didn't know how this was going to play out. you didn't know how to act or what to say to nanami when he came home. you were just hoping for the best.

the lock on the door clicked once, twice, and then the door opened. you had been in your shared bedroom, watching some corny rom-com to ease your mind. you had hidden any evidence of the pregnancy test. you threw away the box and instructions, then threw out the trash bag you tossed them in. you kept the test, however, and hid it in your purse that was now laying on your bed. nanami wasn't one to snoop. if he wanted to check something of yours, he would ask permission. and if you didn't grant it, he would respect your boundaries like he always does.

"my love?" you heard nanami's voice echo throughout the apartment. normally, you would've been waiting by the door for him and greeted him excitedly, but for obvious reasons, you weren't.

leaving the bedroom and walking to nanami, who was walking in the hallway and you assumed he was looking for you, you gave him a small smile.

"hi ken," you said quietly, wrapping your arms around his waist instead of his neck where you usually do. you stood up on your toes to reach his lips, kissing them gently and not for long. when you pulled back, nanami leaned down for another, a longer one. were you ever going to get these kisses again if he found out you were carrying his child?

for real this time, you both pulled away. you still smiled softly up at nanami, but he was observing you closely, worry swimming in his honey brown eyes.

three things were running through his mind right now: why were your cheeks and eyes tinted a bright red, as if you had been crying? why didn't you seem as eager to see him after work like usual, wrap your arms over his shoulders and around his neck, and kiss him for more than a second? something was wrong. did he do something? did you know what food he bought and were you not pleased by it? were you feeling sick?

"ken?" you asked, breaking him out of his thoughts. "are you alright?"

"are you alright?" he returned, worry still plastered throughout his face.

you then looked confused, though you weren't, slowly nodding your head, "yeah... why?"

nanami stayed quiet for a second. maybe you were just tired, maybe he was overthinking this. but that idea didn't sit right with him. it was like his gut was telling him that something was up with you. but he didn't know what.

not wanting to push you, he answered, "nothing. i missed you though. let's go eat?"

throughout dinner, nanami noticed how quiet you were. if it were any other day, you would have been telling him about your day, the latest gossip, about the episode you watched or the chapter you read. you were barely even touching your food too. you occasionally took small bites, but most of the time, you were just poking it with your fork.

while he was putting the dishes away, you grabbed yourself a glass of water. that's when nanami asked you, "love, are you sure you're alright?"

"yeah, i'm fine. why do you ask that?" you replied unsurely, looking down at your water.

"i'm sorry. you just seem... off." nanami washed his hands, looking you up and down carefully.

that was another strange thing he noticed. you hadn't looked in his eyes when you told him you were fine. you always make eye contact with him. you're never afraid to and you're not one to break it so quickly, much less avoid it.

he was beginning to question whether you were really fine.

you had just finished getting ready for bed, teeth and hair brushed, skin care routine done. nanami had finished getting ready before you, so he was waiting for you by the bed. but instead of reading a book or even scrolling through his phone, his eyes were glued to you in worry. you could tell he was becoming suspicious of you, and you wished you hadn't made your troubles so obvious. your head was beginning to ache and you were desperately hoping that nanami wouldn't ask any questions.

those hopes were left unsatisfied.

"my love, are you sure you're okay?" nanami asked for what felt like the hundredth time today.

you sighed deeply. "yes, kento, i'm fine," emphasizing the fine. "my head just hurts right now. have you seen the tylenol?" you added, hoping that it would be enough to stop his questioning.

"no, do you want me to check your bag?"

you felt stupid for having kept an small extra bottle of tylenol in your bag. nanami reached over to your side of the bed, grabbing your purse. he had pulled the zipper open when you realized what was about to happen.

"no!" you yelped, practically sprinting to the bed and snatching the bag away from him. you checked to see if the bag had been open enough to see the test, which it hadn't, and some relief washed over you. but then you realized how much worse you had made your current situation with nanami.

fuck. i fucked up. i'm fucked.

nanami's brows were furrowed together, his face painted with a mix of frustration, confusion, and concern. he looked you up and down over and over again, gaze switching from you to your bag repeatedly.

"okay, y/n, seriously. what the hell is going on with you? first, i come home and you don't seem as excited as you tend to be. then your face is all red like you had been crying. then you—you barely talk to me, hell, even look at me throughout dinner! you touched your food like, what, 5 times? and then when i try to look through your bag to help you, you panic and snatch it away from me?"

kento's ramble had you silent. you didn't know how what to say, what stupid excuse you could use, how to explain your behavior. you only avoided his gaze and stared down at your bag. the thick, suffocating silence lasted for a moment longer, then nanami finally spoke again.

"y/n, are you..."

he paused and took a deep breath, as if to prepare himself for what he was about to say.

"are you cheating on me, y/n...?"

you were dumbfounded. in absolute, utter shock. how could nanami, the person who you believed to have the most trust in you, think that you would be unfaithful to him? yes, you realized how skeptical your behavior was. but for him to come to the assumption that you'd cheat on him? it stung a little—a lot, actually.

"what? no... no, of course not, kento! how could you say that?" you retorted, finally looking him in the eyes.

"gee, i don't know, maybe 'cause you can barely even look at me and you're very obviously hiding something!" his voice raising more with each word spoken.

you had no argument to counter what he had just laid out to you because he was right. you couldn't look at him for more than 5 seconds and you were hiding something. you eyed the floor beneath you, opening and shutting your mouth as you tried to think of something to say. nothing ever came out though.

a heavy sigh cut through your thoughts. you looked up from the floor and saw nanami shaking his head, running his hand down his face. he was so disappointed, you could feel his hurt radiating off of him.

"i'm going to sleep," he muttered, reaching for the lamp and dimming it. lying down, nanami shuffled into a more comfortable position, facing away from your side of the bed, and pulling the covers up to his shoulders.

"ken—"

"night, y/n."

you didn't know what you were going to say anyways. tears slid down your cheeks and the least you could do for nanami was keep quiet and let him rest. you realized that you wanted to apologize. apologize for the way you had been behaving towards him this entire evening, for making him doubt your faithfulness to him.

you slid into bed next to him, facing away from him as well. your body shook with the sobs you fought hard to keep in, nose stuffy and pillow quickly becoming soaked. you thought that the positive pregnancy test would have been the downfall of this relationship—now you wonder, will this argument turn these past 5 years into a mere memory?

m. list

#this has been in my drafts forever #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami x you #nanami angst #nanami kento angst #hurt/no comfort #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen angst #nanami kento #jjk #jujutsu kaisen

[definitelysel]

stressed!alhaitham who is in a stinky mood ever since nahida gave him the job of acting grand sage. ft. fem!reader aka the bootiful bean reading this.

mentions of alhaitham's granny (rip)

I chose my next victim of choice to be alhaitham regarding my impulsive ideas since I can't write a full blow fic rn. I hope there are still people who like this guy.

right??

"Uh oh, it is going to rain." one of the vendors muttered.

"Certaintly is. We better pack up. What idiot would want to stay in the cold rain?" Another muttered as everyone started to hurry and pack up.

Soon the pitter patter drowned out the rest of the noises.

The sky was cloudy with a hue of blueish gray bringing a solemn atmosphere with it. The gloomyness engulfed the city of Sumeru. Alhaitham sat alone on a bench, hunched up. Guess he was the idiot to sit in the rain.

He could hear people whispering, muttering to themselves at the sight of him as they walked by, holding their umbrellas. Some running towards shelter. Alhaitham paid no mind to them, he was busy with his problems.

He never imagined that he would go from having a simple job of the Scribe of the Akademiya who could relax and reject applications left and right to becoming the Acting Grand Sage.

On paper the title does seem like an important position but nobody told the reality of the job and the tsunami of paperwork that came with it. Being hunched up in an office chair and burying your face in a mountain of petty queries and complaints was enough to drive a person crazy.

"Acting Grand Sage...what a joke." He bitterly chuckled as the rain dampened his clothes more and more. All he wanted was to save his 9 to 5 job and the people of his country. He didn't expect to be appointed as the administrator of an entire nation.

He recalled Nahida trying to persuade him into agreeing to the post.

"No pressure or anything!" Nahida told the taller male. "I don't wish to force you. I just thought that you are so smart, capable and reliab-"

"Okay."

"Huh?" Nahida stared at him blankly. She thought that it would take a lot more buttering to get Alhaitham to agree. She didn't think it would be this easy.

"If it is what the Archon wants, I'll do it." He bowed out of respect. Nahida marveled at his gesture before smiling.

"Thank you."

Yet this job made him almost, almost, pity Azar.

Well in the heat of the moment, he said yes. Alhaitham was a rational thinker, yet this was probably the one rational decision he was regretting at the moment, amidst the cold rain. Some trivial matter always came breaking down his door.

Should he just run away? No, he couldn't bear to run away from his home. Perhaps a vacation? No, nobody was competent in his eyes to take his place. Moreover if he leaves, who will collect Kaveh's due rent? Even worse if Kaveh burns down his house in his absence! Maybe a change of pace would be nice. A small window of escape from his life of humbug.

Such worries clouded his thoughts which he snapped out of after someone touched his shoulder. "I am sorry, I don't mean to pry but are you okay? Why are you sitting in this rain?" You asked him.

"No reason." He replied curtly.

"Oh okay." You didn't feel like pushing him forward to tell you more. Most people ignored him and walked past him but for some reason you chose to stay, much to his dismay. You stood their for a brief minute before turning around to walk away only to get cut off by a sound.

Grumble

That caught your attention as you turned around to see Alhaitham averted his gaze with the tips of his ears turning red from embarrassment. He wasn't a man with much words but his stomach certainly didn't stay quiet.

"Are you hungry?" "...yes."

Alhaitham wasn't the one to play pretend. He simply succumbed to his hunger. You walked back towards him and take a seat beside him. He didn't seem to object your actions and stared at you as your fingers unwrapped a packet containing pita pockets.

"Let's share! Nothing better than some pipin' hot food to lighten one's mood!" You smiled and offered him some. He could feel the warm gush of air from the steaming food hitting him the face.

They smelled nice. How long has it been since he sat down and ate a hot meal? When was the last time he cooked for himself. As a child, his grandma would always take care of him, listen to his problems and make sure he would eat his fill. His grandma's cooking was a distant memory for him. He couldn't help but feel a bit grateful.

Yet he still managed to burn his tongue. "Slow down! You don't want to singe your tongue now, do you?" You warned him as he hissed at the burning sensation. However that didn't stop him from continuing to eat. He was hungry, alright.

You both silently sat under the comfort of one umbrella. "So, bad day?" You started. "Yes." "Hm, everyone has one of those. It is okay."

He remained quiet, while chewing. He didn't talk much for someone who was a linguistic scholar. How ironical. For Alhaitham, this food tasted warm, it tasted like home. It was made with love, care and time, unlike those stale delicacies you get around cafeterias.

"Thank you. That was- nice." He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

"He really devoured 3/4th of it." You gaped at the box. "Have you not eaten at all?" You raised the question.

"Well, I see no reason to not share with you just a little bit..." he murmured to himself.

"No, with the amount of work- I haven't been focusing much on food." Alhaitham settled on that answer. Neither giving too much away nor upsetting the stranger infront of him.

"Well then how about I cook for you? I work at the Pushpa Cafe. You can drop by anytime for a meal." You suggested as he raised his brows.

"And make my wallet empty in less than a week? I'll pass." He sarcastically remarked. Definitely a tough nut to crack.

"No! I don't care about money. I care about feeding people. What makes a chef is passion to cook and serve others, not a capitalist mindset." You huffed in annoyance. He seemed skeptical at your statement earning a sigh from you.

"Taking help isn't bad. You gotta lean onto people sometimes! It's completely okay and normal, y'know?" You continued, trying to get him to believe you and how you were being genuine.

That sent him into deep thought. After a few minutes he spoke up, "very well. I'll take up your offer. Better than eating my roommates "food" which might poison me." He concluded as you chuckled at how nonchalant he was.

"Alright! I'll see you later or whenever you choose to drop by!" You chime and hand him the rest of the pita pockets. "Eat well. Oh! And have this" you held out the umbrella for him to take.

"But what about you?" He asked with slight worry.

"Oh my house is just down the road, if I run fast enough, I'll be fine!" You reassured him and ran away, covering yourself with your arms.

He watched you run away, the warmth of the pita pocket on his palms. Who knew a stranger with an umbrella could make the remaining part of his day just a bit better? Alhaitham couldn't help but smile a little.

People enter someone's life for one reason or the other. Alhaitham wanted to run away. No, he just wanted a vacation. Perhaps he just needed a change of pace.

This was his change of pace.

a/n : oh my god- this is probably worse than the first draft I wrote because I accidentally deleted it- ughh. But it is okay 😤

alhaitham just needs a break lmao

©definitelysel

#genshin fluff #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin imagines #genshin x y/n #genshin x you #alhaitham #alhaitham imagines #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x y/n #alhaitham x female reader #genshin drabbles #genshin impact x you #sumeru #nahida #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact drabbles #genshin sumeru #alhaitham genshin