#HOW DO PEOPLE SWITCH ENTIRE CAREERS. THAT IS WHAT I WANT TO KNOW. HOW DO THEY GET HIRED ON VIBES ALONE
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beggars-opera · 7 months ago
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Ok so I completely flubbed my first ever phone interview a few months ago even though it was for an identical position to what I currently have and now I just have to not sabotage myself on this one even though it's a completely different position I have less experience in. I CAN DO THIS, SOMEHOW
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thecoochiefairy · 2 months ago
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lovesick. toji.
𑄽𑄺 warnings 𑄽𑄺 17.1K. word count. blackfem!reader, toji fushiguro, countryboycoded! toji, sweet!toji,dominant!toji, makeup sex, drunk sex, balcony sex, black woman, vaginal penetration, rough sex, lil bit of sweet talkin’, creaming, squirting, oral [f], choking, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, condom-less sex, kissing, spanking, minors aren’t welcome!
━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ listen, don’t cuss me out. it seems like most of y’all didn’t really fuck w/ the snake wrangler, but i did. so this is for the people that did love it, and wanted to tie up the loose ends. :)
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𝓐ᥫ᭡ :: song is switch a nigga out, by summer walker.
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A PROMINENT FLORAL AROMA WITH A MIXTURE OF GRAPE HUGGED HER NOSE. It was entirely too early for her to be drinking, but she was dying to know her sister’s opinion on the new wine she’d bought, mixing it with orange juice to create her own customized mimosa. 
She dropped a pink hibiscus flower within the tall glass, turning with a small smile as she handed it out, “Here you are, madam—I trust your tongue on the taste of Moscato—don’t fail me now.”
“Tuh, I got this!” 
She took the glass delicately, bringing it to her lips. Drinking a bit of the orange and pink liquid, she swirls it around her tongue before swallowing it down, letting the flavors sink into her taste buds. She smacks her lips together a couple of times, twisting the glass around in her hand fancily. 
“Mm, I can taste the floral tinge from the hibiscus with a dash of grapes. It’s a nice balance of both bitter and sweet. You ate that!”
“I told you it would taste good!” Stoney gives a smile, taking her piece of avocado bread, biting down into it as this was her breakfast. 
She then asks, “Now, remind me again why you aren’t participating in Sai’s career day at school, Ms. I Bake Decorative cakes for a living?”
Serena took another drink of her Mimosa before letting out a sigh, biting down on a piece of her own Avocado bread. She let out a soft hum before speaking, running a hand through her hair as she leaned back in her seat. 
“You know I hate talking in front of people. What about you, bitch? You own a whole pottery studio! Don’t you think that would’ve been cool to show the kids?”
“Do you know how expensive a pound of pottery clay is? I love Sai’s lil’ besties, but I’m not wasting my shit on some bad ass kids,” she shakes her head, “You’re just lazy. Could’ve made them kids a damn Paw-Patrol cake and let them smash it. God don’t like ugly.”
“Well I don’t know how he had our mom birth you then, extra terrestrial. Don’t piss me off— where’s your daughter at before I smack you?” 
Stoney holds back her laugh as she teases, “Ooh, you’re mad. But she’s upstairs, getting herself ready. I did her hair and stuff, I told her she could be responsible for picking her outfit, I just hope she doesn’t come downstairs with two left shoes on and her shirt backwards.”
Serena snickered at the thought, shaking her head as she drank her mimosa again, glancing at the stairs.
“You know if she does, that’s on you for letting her pick out her own outfit.” 
“That’s fine! That’s my baby, and she tried!” 
As she was finishing her sentence, the sound of footsteps came down the stairs towards the kitchen, both women turning their heads to see Sai. She actually hadn’t done bad at all, it was an event at school, so they were told to dress up. Her soft midnight black hair was slicked back into miniature pigtails, edges swirled along her forehead and finger curled ponytails in between the rubber bands beneath her alabaster bows. She wore a shimmering pink dress, glittered at the top, tulle starting at her chest and to her ankles, her ballerina flats matching her bows, socks having ruffled lace along the ankle part.
Stoney gasps, pressing her hands against her face as she greets, “Hi, baby!” Smiling from ear to ear at her five year old, “You look so pretty—You dressed yourself so well!”
Sai grins to herself, giggling softly as she does a little spin for her mom, showing off the pretty tulle of her dress as it swayed around. 
“You think I look pretty, mommy?”
Stoney goes over to her, picking her up and placing her along her hip as she usually did, “So good, my love. Such a good job, hm? I’m so proud of you.”
Sai grins from ear to ear, wrapping her tiny little arms around her mother, nuzzling her face against her shoulder. She lifts her head up to look at her aunt Serena, waving a hand at her. 
“Tee-Tee ‘Rena’—did I do a good job?” She questions, Serena chuckling and approaching the two. Just like an aunt, she had her camera out, recording her niece in awe, snapping a thousand pictures. 
“Tee-Tee’s baby did so well! You’ll be the prettiest girl there.” 
Sai then turns, her big doe eyes—something she’d definitely gotten from her father—blinking at her mother as she conveniently questions, “Is daddy still coming today?”
There it was, the question she wished she could avoid. Her and Nathaniel had been divorced for about six months, separated even before that, and she constantly tried to shield Sai from the absence of her father—she had the unfortunate job of reminding her child what disappointment was. 
She tried not to allow her face to drop as she said, “No, baby. Daddy said he had to work today, so he won’t be coming, okay? I’m sorry.”
Serena awkwardly rubbed sisters shoulder, knowing she hated the face her daughter made each time she was given that news. This was a normal occurrence now, everytime Sai asked about her father, he’d be busy. 
“Who the hell wants to see a weak ass fuckin’ stock broker anyways. What he gon’ do? Teach the kids how to rob, cheat, steal their money?” Serena smacked her lips, Stoney giving a warning as she briefly murmurs, “Serena.” 
Serena pushes off her anger at her ex-brother in law, “My bad. But hey, my lil’ Sai-Sai. Me and your mommy will be there with you and all your friends, and I made cupcakes with extrraa sprinkles!”
“And, Daddy will be here this weekend to pick you up so you can go Christmas shopping with him, yeah?” Stoney adds in, kissing her daughter’s soft cheek multiple times to cheer her up.
Sai was now back to her excited and happy self, giggling when her mother showered her with kisses. The thought of her daddy bringing her shopping was exciting, the thought of spending time with him in general, made the young girl happy. 
 “Can we get presents for you too, mommy?”
“Yeah. Tell the bastard I need thirty bands in the bank right now,” Serena says, Stoney flicking her arm as she interrupts that, “Of course, baby. A little card with your name on it would be beautiful for mommy. You’ ready to go? We don’t wanna be late!”
Sai nodded her head enthusiastically, a sparkle of excitement in her eyes. She hopped down from her mother’s arms, putting her tiny hands in her mom and aunts palms, walking with the two to the front door. This was all Stoney needed—the happiness from her daughter.
 It didn’t matter if she had to be the only one that created that for her—almost having to be the mother and father, essentially—but it didn’t matter. She’d always work twice as hard to provide for Sai. Even if that meant taking her business and turning it into a small pottery studio, having classes three times out the week, allowing people to learn the creations she taught herself. It worked for her. 
They placed the cupcakes for her class within the trunk, Stoney’s Lexus NX 350 pushing down the road as she made her way towards the school building.
“What did that dumbass nigga come up with as an excuse this time?” Serena questions, turning the air up on her side of the passenger seat, not wanting to ask the question, but she was always curious. 
Stoney keeps her hand along the wheel, glancing at the mirrors beside her as she switches lanes, “Said he had a client. I didn’t say too much after that.”
Stoney’s lips form a thin line, sighing to herself. It was always the same thing every time he said he wouldn’t be able to make it with Sai. Work, clients, clients, meetings, meetings. She honestly wondered when it would just stop. It was always some excuse, always something more important than her. Always. 
“I bet the bitch still wanna play house with you. He probably misses you.”
“I wouldn’t care if he offered me the entire world to get back with him,” Stoney briefly says, turning the wheel with one hand, “I just want him to be there for Sai, even if that means explaining what stock-broking is to a bunch of five-year olds. It would’ve been boring, but it would’ve meant something for her, y’know?”
Serena nods her head, crossing her arms against her chest. She turns in her seat, looking back at her niece, who was preoccupied with Bubble Guppies on her mini IPad, eyes glittering in a mix of childish happiness and innocence.
“She’d be way better if she didn’t have a sorry ass dad like him. She’s got you though, you’re doing an amazing job. And you have me. That nigga could turn into a dry-ass Popeyes biscuit.”
“You’d still eat him, huh? Hungry ass.” 
“…Maybe. Actually, damn right! And I’d take three days to shit him out, you know I be’ constipated.”
“You’re stupid,” Stoney sighs, a soft laugh pulling at that. 
“That’s fine, better than the biscuit man. Not that you need a man, but a step-daddy for Sai wouldn’t hurt.”
And at that comment, Stoney decides to say nothing at all, pulling into the school's parking lot. She can see other parents with their children, some of the children dressed in different uniforms from firefighters, chefs, to even small suits, their parents looking to be dressed in their actual work outfits. It was a full on event.
They were guided towards the Kindergarten wing, a door that separated off into an entirely different section that was a lot smaller than what the other grades had to deal with. Stoney and Serena greeted Sai’s teacher, placing the desserts they’d made for her class in the back where everything else sat, Sai giving her mom one last hug as she sat on the carpet with her friends. All the other parents began piling in, a couple unfamiliar faces also standing in the front of the class. It was a man dressed in scrubs, a female police officer, and another man who seemed to be some type of military profession.
Stoney picked up the bright yellow paper that titled the event of today, looking up as she said softly to her sister, “Hm, I didn’t know they’d have extra guests come and speak today. I guess you didn’t have to sign up for it.”
“I guess not,” Serena shrugs her shoulders. She looks around the room, her eyes landing on the unknown men. She then turns to her sister, a sly smile pulling at her lips. 
“Some of them are pretty cute, you have your pick. The doctor, the police officer, or the military? Who’d you choose?” She teases, lightly shoving Stoney’s shoulders with a laugh.
Stoney shakes her head, “Who would you pick, desperate?”
“I’m not desperate,” Serena exclaims quietly, rolling her eyes. She looks at each one of the men again, biting her lip as she tries to decide. After a second, she points at the doctor with his clipboard.
“I love a nigga in scrubs. Mhm, although I’m sure he’ married. Honestly—If he puts me up in a condo, I might be able to get over his wife and kids.”
“You’re terrible, you know that?” 
“Terrible? Meh. Smart? Correct,” Serena grins, watching the teacher as she begins speaking. 
The teacher smiles at the room of parents and kids as they all sit quietly, a small giggle leaving her lips. Each child was going to get the chance to talk about their ‘dream job’ and what they wanted to be when they got older. The special guests would also have an opportunity to explain their job, educating the children in addition to that. As the presentation begins, each kid around the room holds a paper, showing a drawing of what they wanted to be and why. It was an adorable sight, some of them saying fairies, ninjas, assassins, jobs you’d expect a child to say. Then, it was Sai’s turn.
Stoney was easily emotional, she knew that. She told herself she wasn’t going to cry when her daughter stood up there to present her career choice, Serena holding up her phone to record as the five year old held what looked to be her butterfly shaped pottery dish she’d made. 
“My name's Sai, and I wanna be like my mommy when I grow up!” 
The little girl held up the dish—which had pink butterflies, along with the letters ‘S’ and ‘S’ drawn on it—with a smile on her face, showing it off to the rest of the room as she continued, “My mommy makes all these pretty plates and other cool stuff. It makes people happy, so I wanna make people happy. My mommy is like a superhero!”
The teacher smiled at her, “That’s wonderful, Sai. Your dish is beautiful.”  
Stoney’s heart had nearly melted inside of her body, and she wanted to crocodile cry. She loved nothing more in this world than her baby girl.
“All right, we’ll now be moving onto our guests—“
A knock on the door interrupts the teacher's words, the door opening before she could make her way over to it. As Stoney turned her attention like everyone else, it seemed like time stopped—Just to her unamusement. Just to laugh in her damn face. 
He almost had to hunch to come within the classroom, as the ceiling was low, but he was big—his shoulders broad, flexing muscles stretching along his back under the dark long sleeve he wore. His full and dark pink lips, scar cutting through his mouth dangerously, scarily straight teeth made by the devil himself. Dark eyebrows that furrowed as he walked in, sable hair all complimenting his cream skin, littering in tattoos that she knew he had.
 She could imagine the serpent that slithered around his arm, the same one that clutched her hair within his veined palm. And then—those eyes. Those grey eyes poured into her senses, picking up her melting heart and having it drop completely out of her body. 
Toji fucking Fushiguro. 
Her sister's phone that was previously held up slowly dropped down, looking towards her younger sister who could’ve gone into cardiac arrest at this very moment.
 She muttered, “Oh hell.” 
Has he gotten bigger? Taller? Sexier? Why couldn’t he have just become ugly all of a sudden? 
His voice was almost unrecognizable to her, deep, assertive as his first words were, “I’m sorry. Did I miss the special guest presentation?”
Stoney’s eyes were practically popping out of her sockets at the sight of the man—who she thought she’d never see again. And yet, there he was. Toji Fushiguro, standing in all his tall dark glory. She was practically about to have a heart attack. 
The teacher smiles, shaking her head and waving a hand, “No, not at all. You’re actually just in time. Come on up. Class, this is another guest of ours, this is Mr. Fushiguro, he’s a Snake Wrangler.”
The kids cheered at the title—snake wrangler was such a unique and thrilling name to them. But to Stoney, it was like hearing her worst nightmare. She hadn’t seen this man in two months. Since he’d helped her move into her house, since he’d fucked her, cared for her in ways a man in years couldn’t care for her in the way he did in one night. 
And to her luck, Sai instantly recognizes the tall man, running up to him as she wraps her arms along his leg, squealing, “Mr. Snake Man!”
She wished at this moment that Sai wasn’t so damn outgoing—or that maybe this was her personal hell, and it was only a nightmare. Her dark brown eyes widened, her jaw almost dropping open. 
A blind person could sense how attractive he was, even the teacher giving him a look. She collects herself, smiling at Sai, “You know him, sweetie?” 
“Uh-huh! He’s mommy’s friend!” Sai exclaims, her little tiny hands wrapped around his thick, muscular leg.
In that instant, it’s like the entire class looks back towards Stoney, which causes him to look at her. Yup, she was going to faint. She was going to black out.
“Hey, pretty girl. I missed you,” Toji picks Sai up for a moment, pulling her into a hug that makes the small child giggle before placing her back down. 
Stoney was red. Her brown skin was flushed at the situation, unable to even speak. Her heart was racing. He was staring.
She was practically unable to move, unable to function, unable to breathe. Her dark brown eyes staring back into his storm grey ones, unable to break contact. What the hell was he even doing here? This was not the place to run into your one night stand after two months of disappearance. 
The teacher’s voice came in again, “It’s wonderful to have you here, Mr. Fushiguro. Why don’t you find a seat until it’s time for your presentation?” 
He gives a nod, politely smiling as she guides him to a small stool they’d brought for the guests to sit out in front of the group. He sits there now, sitting in that damn school-sized-stool that looked like it would break at any second, his palm clutching what looked to be a travel terrarium.
Nothing was louder than Stoney’s thoughts. She now felt extremely insecure in the top she wore, showing off her midriff, her cargos and fuzzy boots, jade green glasses perched atop of her freckled nose, straight hair lazily pulled behind her face in a matching claw clip.
Serena was having the best time out of anyone there, watching as her poor sister looked like she was going to burst into tears. Stoney knew if she looked next to her, she was going to punch Serena in the face. He couldn’t help but stare at her—she was the prettiest thing to him. Something in his scar twitched at the sight of her glasses, and those freckles he seemed to memorize all those months ago. 
He looked over her body once more, watching her bite at her brown lined lips, how her cheeks were naturally blushed. 
God, he missed her.
“And for our final presenter, everyone give a warm welcome for Mr. Fushiguro!” The teacher ignites clapping throughout the classroom, women gawking, men watching his every move. He was like an alien that’d just come down to earth.
The children cheered and clapped, their eyes looking up at him as he stood from the stool, which was somehow holding up his 200+ pound ass. He stands there, intimidating aura practically surrounding him without needing any effort.
“Well, I’m a Snake Wrangler, or a snake catcher, meaning I help capture reptiles that might be in places they shouldn’t be. In your neighborhood, your backyard, maybe even in your toilet,” which makes the class giggle, but nothing was funny to Stoney at this moment.
A kid within the front of the class raises his hands, speaking anyway before he is called to ask the question, “Have you been bitten before?”
Toji chuckled, the question amusing him, but he answered anyway, “I have. Quite a few times actually. Mostly from smaller snakes. It’s not that bad, just uncomfortable and a little scary if it’s from a bigger one.” 
The class ‘ooed’ at the answer. Another kid spoke up, “Can we see?” 
He smirked, holding up his arm, where there were indeed a few circular shaped scars on his olive skin. All of them seemed shocked, like it was some cool thing. Except Stoney. Who knew what those scars felt like on his skin.
He then places the terrarium on the desk, his broad back facing the classroom for a brief second—making Stoney’s insides throb,imagining her fingers clawing at his back, whining into his ear. 
She blinks, wanting to bang her head against the wall to knock sense into herself, hearing his voice as he asks, “Now, who wants to hold a snake?” 
Maybe Stoney wasn’t alone in the fear that struck against the classroom, but her fears were entirely different. She expected at least one child to volunteer, yet they all sit with wide eyes, seeing as a yellow reptile slithers around his arm, finding comfort in the material of his top.
“This is Lily,” he introduces, “She’s a ball python. Her color might look a little scary, but she’s the sweetest. She loves to cuddle, and she says her favorite show is SpongeBob,” which makes the class giggle, the parents amused at his words. 
A student calls out, “She can’t talk, she’s a snake!”
“She talks to me all the time!” He defends, “She’s just nervous to see all you new people, takes her a while to get comfortable enough.”
The kids laugh at the statement, even Stoney having to hold back a weak laugh, watching how easy he was with them. He allowed the snake to slither up his arm, up until she made her way to his neck, locking around his throat as he adds, “This is her favorite place to sleep. They like where it’s warm.” 
Stoney was more focused on the way that damn snake slid across his muscular arm and shoulders. It unfairly fit him—made him look even hotter somehow. 
But the thought of the snake touching her—it made her shiver. The fact that she was still standing here watching, it was definitely a sense of growth, something she might’ve been able to thank him for.
The kids seemed intrigued by the animal, even more when Toji carefully picked one child to hold the snake. The girl was clearly nervous, but when she was holding the reptile, she had the biggest smile on her face. 
“The main thing I want you guys to understand,” Toji continued his presentation, “Is that snakes are just tryna’ survive. They’re more scared of you than you are of them. They just want to eat and lay down somewhere warm, nothing more.”
She could feel his eyes on her, and she knew that the second this presentation was over, he was going to come over there to talk. 
Not gonna happen. 
So the moment she heard the teacher say, “Thank you so much, Mr. Fushiguro, you’ve been amazing!” She beelined for the bathroom as everyone began clapping, hiding within the stalls until Serena confirmed that he was already gone. 
She nearly had to fan herself, giving her baby girl a kiss before making her way out of the building with her sister, wanting nothing more than to hide under the covers of her bed and scream.
When they got into the car, Serena held a hand over her mouth, giving her sister a couple of minutes as she said, “Can I laugh? I’m finna’ laugh. I’m so sorry, shawty.” 
“Shut up,” Stoney grumbles, her fingers gripping the steering wheel tighter as she sped back to her place. 
“And you rushed to the bathroom like you were gonna throw up. That’s a damn shame.” 
“Shut up,” she repeated again, rolling her eyes as her sister continued laughing, “I was embarrassed.”
“Why you’ being weird anyways? Y’all not fucking or something?”
Stoney blows out a breath. She then admits, “I haven’t spoken to Toji in two months.”
Serena’s jaw practically drops to the floor of the car. She’s shocked into being speechless for a good thirty seconds before blurting out, “Two months? Ain’t no way you haven’t tried to reach out.”
“I thought it’d be letting him down easier that way.”
“For someone who says they hate when people just cut them off without any explanation, you sure went and did the same. You know how lame you look?”
She narrows her eyes, “I have my reasons, Serena. I didn’t just stop talking to him for the fuck of it.”
Serena gives her, “Oh yeah? Then what’s your reason?” She turns her whole body to look at her, her arms still crossed, waiting to hear what she says. 
Now thinking of the reasons she was going to say, maybe she was starting to feel a little stupid. The moment Toji left that morning after, he asked about seeing her again and she told him she was busy— she stopped picking up his calls or even responding to his messages. 
She exhaled as she responded, “I’m busy with the studio and Sai. I don’t have time for some kiddy ass puppy crush.”
Serena looked at her in disbelief, “You can’t be for real. You spend all of your time with Sai if she isn’t at school, you work from home, and the studio is open three times out of the week. This heartless front you’re tryna’ put on? Doesn’t suit you.”
“Well how would you feel if the man that helped you move your stuff into your ex-husbands house listens to your sob story, makes you feel like you matter, and then fucks you so good that you tell him to cum inside of you after only knowing him for forty-eight hours? I feel stupid. Maybe I was just vulnerable, and he was just horny.” 
“You let that man cum inside you?” 
“That’s not the point of what I just said, Serena.”
Her younger sister's eyes were an expressway to her heart, she could never lie about her emotions. She seemed to have built a wall between herself and everyone. Her hands gripped the wheel tighter, her knuckles white and trembling, her lips pursing. 
There were a million things Serena could say to her at this moment, but instead she asked, “Why do you feel stupid?”
She pulls into her driveway, parking as she sits on that thought. She knew why, maybe she just didn’t want to admit that to herself. She hated being as emotional as she was, wearing her entire heart on her sleeve. 
She pulls her hair behind her ear, “I let him in too quickly, I didn’t even know him, Serena. I have a daughter, and I’m a grown ass woman. I can’t just be fucking niggas and thinking they’re in love with me.”
Serena looked at her, almost seeing herself in her younger sister as she said, “Love at first sight seems like a fairytale, I’m well aware of that. I know you’re an adult and you have a daughter, but you ain’t dead, girl. You can live a little—you should live a little more.” 
 Serena reaches out and places a hand on Stoney’s shoulder, saying, “You haven’t been yourself since you and Nathaniel’s split. So what’s really the deeper issue?”
Goddammit. The question makes her eyes turn away from her sister, looking forward to her condo, the sight of it becoming blurry in her eyes. 
She quickly sniffles as she drags her palm along her cheek, hating that she was crying. Her voice was hoarse as she admitted, “I just feel stupid. A man I knew for two days showed me an affection I never got from my own husband…” She presses her hands to her face, “I just…I’ve been wasting so much time…and I h—hate myself for it…”
The sound of her crying hurt Serena in ways she couldn’t describe. Seeing her younger sister like this, knowing how much emotional weight she carried, it didn’t feel fair to her. No one should have to feel that way. 
“Dammit bitch, got me crying too,” she lightly laughed while sniffling, her own tears forming in her eyes, “You’re not stupid for falling a little too hard. That dumbass baby daddy of yours never deserved you in the first place. Fuck that meat head. The only good thing that came from that was Sai, this condo, and your booming business. You’re blessed, baby girl. Know that. And now you have a man trying to fill that emptiness you don’t need, but deserve. Let him show you a love you didn’t have in a place you should’ve. Give him that opportunity.”
She takes in her sister’s words. She didn’t need any man’s love, but if it was genuine, it didn’t hurt to open herself up again. She sinks deeper into her older sister, needing her comfort as she says softly, “I love you.”
Serena smiles against her skin, holding her close as she says, “Ahh, you’re always a little cry baby when you’re sad. But I love you more. And if this man breaks your heart, Imma’ break his skull. So stop crying. You’re ruining my makeup, and I have a date tonight.”
She pulls her head up, “Wasn’t you just saying you wanted that doctor's number at the Career Day? Now you got a date?” 
She smacks her lips, waving it off as she says, “Do you doubt me as a bitch who can get any nigga she wants? That’s my date, girl! I got his number. Foine ass doctor, let me tell you.”
Here we go again.
Stoney felt a little better as the next day came. It was one of her favorite days out of the week, being within her studio and helping others enjoy a session. She had different packages—Pottery and Paint, Pottery and Pot/Smoking, Pottery and Sip— she enjoyed each session, and always was received well by her customers. She loved her studio, SAI’S, sign illuminating pink at the top of the building. It was minimalistic within the inside, honey pine wood tables and walls, plants hung along the ceiling, easels and workstations scattered within the workshop. This was her second home. 
Today in particular was a children’s birthday party, having the children all along the table with mats, mushing their creations into anything they wanted and painting over it. She had Sai participating with them, as she was in the studio with her today to be picked up by her father for the next week or so, spending time with him before Christmas. She knew her daughter was excited, but she wasn’t exactly looking forward to him coming to her place of sanctuary.
A small smile came along her face as she continued to lead, “Okay, so you’re gonna take your clay and roll it into a little burrito—but don’t eat it! It’ll make you very sick,” she dramatically rubs her stomach, making the children giggle, “Can I see everyone make a burrito for me?”
This was her peace of mind, being surrounded by all things she loved. Her baby girl’s giggle, the sound of clay, paint brushes and paint. It was all something she could immerse herself in.
As the session came to an end, she said her goodbyes to the children and parents, beginning to clean off the tables and unused supplies, feeling herself becoming a bit tired from the day.
“Alright, muffin. I need you to go and clean up in the bathroom, so you can look all nice and pretty for Daddy, okay?” She says to Sai, pulling her out of the chair she placed her in, “You need any help from mommy?”
“I’ll be okay!” 
As she continued to clean up the supplies, she heard the bell atop of her door jingling, and inhaled a deep breath.  Her eyes met with her ex-husband, caramel skin, hazel eyes, waves upon his head. He was wearing a suit, assuming he was coming from work. 
When she goes to politely greet him, the first thing he does is look around, raising an eyebrow as he says, “So this is where all my child support money is going, huh?”
And just like that, her good mood was ruined. She reaches over to grab the Hello Kitty duffle that had all of her daughter’s necessities, reaching it towards him as she dismisses, “Your daughter has her Christmas list in her bag, Nathan. She also needs new shoes, she’s beginning to grow out of her old ones.”
He reaches for the bag, his hand touching hers for a moment. His eyes drift down towards her tattoos on her forearms, before they look down towards her chest, as she wears a soft green tracksuit set, where her zipper was dipping a bit low. 
“You’ still fucking that mover?”
Her neck nearly broke as she was taken aback by the question, her face remaining stoic and unwavering. Instead of getting upset, she pulls the bag back towards herself as she dismisses,  “Do you know what shoe size Sai is?”
He doesn’t seem phased by her not responding to the question, leaning himself against the wall as he shoves a hand into his pocket, “She’s a ten in kids, I’m well aware of my daughter’s shoe size.”
His eyes once again stroll down her body, “Small feet like her mom.” 
“Congratulations on knowing that,” she flatly says, “Sai’s just washing her hands. She’ll be out in a second.”
He pushes himself off of the wall as he walks towards the table, sitting himself down, “So this is where you spend the money you got from the divorce, huh? Painting mugs and ashtrays?”
“It’s a good profit to take care of Sai,” she tells him, “She enjoys it here just as much as I do.”
He laughs, leaning back into his chair, “Well at least she’s enjoying it,” He says, before adding, “Because I know I’m sure as hell not paying for you to sit around and play with clay all damn day.”
She blinks at him, before she turns around and goes back to her cleaning. She really didn’t give a fuck about his conversation right now.
 She then hears his mouth open again, “I’ll be bringing Sai back a day early, me and my fiancé are going out of town for Christmas.”
That however makes her halt. She turns her head as she frowns, “What?” 
 “I’m taking a trip with my girl for Christmas. Gonna show her a nice time. We’re gonna be in Florida, in the keys.”
“You’re engaged six months after our divorce?” Her frown becomes deeper, “I haven’t even been out of the house for three months.”
He rolls his eyes, “We’ve been separated since last holiday. I’ve been with her since before you moved out, and I proposed to her three months ago. She’s my future. What, you expecting me to be pining over your miserable ass?”
She could take a lot of his beatings. But this particular conversation was viscerally pissing her off. She turned to fully look at him, raising an eyebrow as she questions, “Who the fuck is miserable?”
He stands to his feet and crosses his arms, “You’ve been sulking over being a single mom since we’ve been separated. I’d actually be surprised if you kept the next nigga you’re fucking on. You’re pathetic. Why do you think you’re here, playing with paint and clay in a tiny ass studio?”
His words were hitting her harder than she expected them to. Saying these harsh things to herself was one thing, but hearing them from the person that caused most of her misery was deafening. She hated that she was about to cry. But this was anger, and she wanted to become violent.
 She takes the duffle bag that holds her daughter’s items, chucking it at him as she spits, “You can wait for Sai in the car. Get the fuck out.”
He catches the bag, the items in it falling out in the process. He laughs, “It’s like you never even left the house,” He walks closer to her, “You think you’d be less of a miserable bitch after two months on your own.”
“You sound like an ignorant ass nigga right now. I’d advise you to back up before I put you in between this fuckin’ table and work station,” she threatens, uncaring if tears were coming in her eyes. Her hands were shaking. 
“Your new nigga gave you some balls or something? Now you’ can talk to me crazy?” 
She was entirely too angry to see anything else at this moment. So angry that she didn’t even hear the bell jingle atop of her studio, Nathaniel in the way of the door.
Her eyes peer into the doorway, seeing Toji standing there, eyes immediately narrowed, clutching his fist along the bouquet of flowers he holds. 
“You’ good?” 
The question echoes in her mind, almost like a replay of a situation they had before. She blinks in between the both of them as she says, “I’m fine—“
“You know I wasn’t asking you, Stoney.” 
He tries to be as respectful as possible when it comes to her ex-husband for the sake of Sai, but walking in to see him standing over her, he couldn’t hold his mouth this time. 
Before she can give a reaction, Toji drops the flowers within his hand, his face nearly able to burn the skin off of Nathaniel as he continues, “Nah, fuck that.” 
He’s fast, incredibly fast as he’s already making his way towards Nathan, which makes Stoney’s eyes go wide, panicked as she flies around him to grip Toji’s arm, not expecting him to have this reaction.
 She holds him as she confirms, “I’m fine, okay? I’m fine,” she confirms, only wanting to diffuse the situation. 
Toji knocks his head down to look at her. He looks back up at Nathaniel, who’s still standing there with a look of annoyance on his face, but something else within his eyes. Hesitance. 
His jaw clenched as he relaxed a bit, her touch feeling like it’d been forever, almost wanting to thank himself for the cause.
“I’m good.”
Thankfully, Sai appears, seeing her father as she greets, “Daddy!” Excited to see him, jumping up within his arms.
Toji looks down at the child, his features instantly softening as he sees the girl in her father’s arms. Seeing her cheerful smile, she had no idea of the tension in the room.
Nathan gives her a soft kiss on the head, “Hey, baby girl. You’ ready to do some Christmas shopping?”
“Yeah!” Sai says with a big smile, her arms going around his neck for a hug. 
Stoney clears her throat as she gently pulls Sai in to kiss her cheek, leaning down to quickly pick up her stuff that's fallen out of the duffle she’d chucked at Nathaniel, “Let Daddy take pictures of you, okay? I wanna see you having fun with him. And call me if you need anything, okay?” 
Sai smiles at her mom, and nods in reply, giving her a little wave, “Okay, mommy! Love you!” 
Toji watches as Stoney gives her daughter attention, seeing her pick up the items on the floor. He leans down, picking the stuff up with her, taking the bag out of her hand as he reaches it out to Nathaniel.
Nathaniel is still just glaring at Toji, who was waiting patiently for a reaction. Nothing. No talking goes into Nathan taking the bag from him. 
Sai’s sweet voice waves, “Bye, Mr. Snake Man!” as they exit out of the studio.
Toji gives the kid a little wave, and puts on a small grin. When they exit completely, his jaw finally unclenches, taking in the sight of Stoney. It was like seeing her again for the first time.
“You okay?”
He looks down at her fingers, watching how they shake from the previous situation. She’d been crying. Toji brings a palm up, grabbing her hand, unable to stop himself from just wanting to comfort her. 
“I’m fine.”
“Quit lying to me.”
She pulls her hand away, “What’s with the flowers? How’d you even know about the studio?” 
He wants to re-clench his jaw from her pull away. This was his second time seeing her in two months, and she still had her walls up. 
“You ran off on me at career day. I didn’t know Sai went to school there.” 
“Well—you know now,” she dismisses, turning as she begins cleaning up the rest of her studio. She can feel him following behind her, even beginning to pick up items himself to help her clean. 
He continues, “Serena told me about the studio before I left career day. I ended up asking Sai if she needed more flowers in her garden, she said you had pulled some of the Hibiscus’. So—I thought you needed some more,” he takes the bouquet off the table, reaching them towards her. 
Her eyes narrow down at the flowers, “Fucking Serena. Of course,” she presses her tongue within her cheek, turning away to gather the mats off the table. 
His dark grey eyes don’t leave her, watching as she walks around, trying to keep herself composed. When she refuses to take the flowers, he takes them back, setting them on the table, but not taking his eyes from her. 
“You gonna cut your sister off for giving me the name of your studio?”
“Serena couldn’t hold water in a bucket if a gun was to her head,” she retorts, scanning his attire, his overalls and wife beater showing he must’ve been at work, “I don’t need the flowers.”
“Are you upset about what I said to Nathaniel?”
She sighs, halting her steps, “Toji. I didn’t need you to play bodyguard. I can fight my own battles with him.”
Toji leans his forearms down on the table, veins flexing as he watches her pause her steps, finally looking him in the eyes again. 
“I know you can handle your own battles with him. I know. But he’s a fuckin’ prick. Needs his fuckin’ skull bashed in, I see the way he makes you feel. He hurts your feelings.”
She crosses her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow at him. He then says, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t tryna impose.”
“Well you did. Why are you here, Toji?”
“I miss you.”
She now raises both eyebrows, “You had two months to get over me. I think you’ll survive.”
“I can’t. So now what?”
She looks up at him, tilting her head slightly as she says, “Look, you did your big one, okay? Let me give you my sob story about my past relationship, fucked me, but we’re both grown as fuck. You don’t know me, and you enjoyed yourself. Why can’t we just leave it there?” 
“That’s what you think? That I just wanted to fuck you?”  
She shrugs, “I don’t know. But I have a life to make for myself and my child, I’m not tryna bring you into my bullshit. Seeing what just happened was enough to understand that.”
He comes even closer to her, feeling his body temperature rising, his eyes not leaving hers.
“You think I’m gonna let you write me off that easily? You think I can’t handle whatever you throw at me? Like I’m weak or some shit?”
“I never said you were weak.”
She feels her own body wanting to pull closer to him. Her heart thumps in her chest as she tilts her head up to look at him, able to smell his scent. 
He then says to her, “My birthday’s coming up.” 
She gives him a fake smile, patting his arm as she says, “Hm, Happy early birthday then. Hopefully you can find some girl to bounce her ass on you,” she goes around him, focusing back on picking up the work mats.
“I’m cool off that, I’d rather you be the one bouncing your ass on me.”
She scoffs, huffing as she turns towards him, “Why are you still here?”
“I want you.”
“Okay?”
He moves as she moves, refusing to let the space between them become too much. His eyes follow her as she tries to go around him, his scarred lip twitching. 
She raises an eyebrow, “Is something funny?”
“You’ not even gonna ask me what I’m doing for my birthday?” 
She sighs, pausing her movements again. 
“What are you doing for your birthday, Fushiguro?”
“Taking you wherever you wanna go. You deserve a real date.”
“Toji.” 
He raises an eyebrow as she says his name like that, clearly frustrated with him. 
“What? You’ done being stubborn now?”
“I’m tired of playing chicken with you.” 
“So tell me where you wanna go then.”
She squints, letting out a sigh as she begins to walk past him, sarcastic as she says, “I’ve always wanted to see Rome, Italy for Christmas. It looks beautiful there.”
“Rome, huh?” 
His eyes watch her ass as she walks past him, wanting to follow her anywhere she went.
 “I’ve heard the food is good as fuck, too. I’ll book the tickets tonight. You’ got three days to pack.”
Her entire body halts. She turns towards him as he begins walking out of the studio, “I was joking, Toji.”
When he’s still walking, she begins following after him, feet scrambling to catch up with his large strides as she alarmingly repeats, “I was joking!”
He then turns back to her, jaw clenching as he says, “I’m about to be thirty-three, Stoney. Imma’ grown ass man. Do you think I’m playing about you?”
She steps back a bit, hearing the seriousness in his tone. She then says, “I think you’re hard headed as fuck.”
“You can cuss me out on the plane. You’ need my card to go shopping?” 
She quickly says, “No,” as he’s already pulling it from his wallet, ready to hand it to her.
He raises an eyebrow in response, “What, money scares you too? Damn, I thought it was just snakes.” 
“Funny, jackass,” she snatches the card from him, “Now you’re finna’ go bankrupt.”
He leans in closer to her, his jaw clenching as he smiles down at her—the bastard was sexy. 
“I got more money than I need. I’m greedy as fuck, you know that.” 
“Goodbye, Fushiguro,” she finalizes, lightly pressing his chest, backing him out of her studio.
“You sure you don't want a goodbye kiss?”
“You can kiss my ass,” she tells him, quickly pulling away as she closes the door to the studio, waving at him through the glass panel.
He raises his hand up, doing a little wave back, knowing she can see the smirk on his face through the window. She has to hold back the small smile that comes to her face as he looks almost like a child, nearly tripping as he makes his way back to his truck. 
She trips as she makes her way over to her phone, going to her emergency contacts as she immediately dialed her sister's number.
“You better be dying, Stoney. I am laid up playing General Hospital, and I do mean that in the nastiest way.” 
“You’ll be dying cause imma’ kill you! He’s taking me to Italy, Serena.” 
“WHA—HUH?!”
                          𝓐ᥫ᭡
THREE DAYS OF PREPARATION WAS OVERWHELMING. She bought mostly black attire, flimsy, sexy, but she refused to admit that any of it was to get his attention. She’d even had Serena take out her sew-in—wash her hair, blow it out, and replace it with all new bundles. New makeup, shoes, even new scents of perfume. She felt ready. 
She watched as he placed her two suitcases in the back of his truck, “Think you packed up your whole house?”
She sighs, “Well one is my clothes bag, the other is my hair and makeup bag.”
“Hair and makeup bag?” He repeats, “You didn’t need a whole bag full of that. You look good enough already.”
“Quit flirting. Oh—“ she pauses, pulling the dark green 
Telfar off her shoulder as she reaches in, “Um—I got you your cigarettes. Thought you might’ve needed some. But you can’t smoke them on the plane, okay?” She raises the box in her hand, “The guy told me there’s organic tobacco in these.” 
His eyes run up her form, taking in her frame dressed in a black hoodie and sweatpants set, matching Toji’s attire accidentally. Her edges swirled along her forehead as she had in an orchid claw clip, freckled face covered by her glasses, skin coaxed by the cloying scent of her vanilla perfume. 
He slowly grabs it from her fingers, inspecting the label, “Organic tobacco?” He says with a smirk, “You tryna make me healthy, now?”
“Maybe,” she says softly, “You’ ready to go?”
He looks back to her, seeing an almost doe-eyed look within her face, genuinely concerned for his health. She was cute. 
“Been ready for three days, baby,” he grunts, reaching for her hand, “Come on,” opening the passenger seat of his truck, “Sure we don’t need to add your ass as a third check bag?” 
“Boy, hush.” 
She leans her head along the window, watching out as they pass the city. The nervousness she had was gone, but she felt…hesitant with him. 
Her head came up as she saw them pulling behind the airport, raising an eyebrow as she questions, “We aren’t flying with the airport lines?”
“Nah, I chartered a private plane. Caught an alligator out of a client's backyard, said he could give me the hook up—gave me a decent price on a jet.”
Her eyes glanced at the cream colored jet, seeing as workers began making their way towards his truck as she questions, “And how decent was the price of a jet to Italy, better yet—how big was the gator?” She frowns, blinking in surprise.
He watches her eyes gaze up at the jet, looking to the workers as they approach, “Big enough. Don’t ask too many questions.”
She rolls her eyes, watching as he pulls a cigarette from the box she’d gifted him. She gives a polite smile to the workers that begin unloading his truck, opening the door as he steps out to smoke. 
She comes around as she almost pouts like a child, “You said you wouldn’t smoke on the plane.”
He takes a hit from the cigarette, releasing the smoke from his mouth as he leans against the side of his truck, “Never said that shit. Plus, I thought these were supposed to be healthy for me?” 
She sighs, “I shouldn’t have told you that.”
He wraps his arm around her neck, pulling her forward with a chuckle as he blows out the smoke. She wasn’t used to a man being so…playful with her, making her feel like she didn’t have to be so aware and parental. She could relax.
He blows the smoke into her face to tease her, watching as her nose crinkles up and she waves a hand in front of her, attempting to disperse the toxins. 
“You’re cute as fuck when you’re annoyed.”
“And you’re annoying when you’re…annoying.” 
He raises an eyebrow, “That’s what you came up with?”
“I’m going to the plane!” 
She begins making her way towards the jet, waving politely to the workers as they open the door for her, ignoring Toji as he calls, “I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you leave!”
Pulling through the small door of the jet, the size of it made her nervous, this being her first time in one. The seats were big and luxurious, wine glasses and fruit along the small section they had holding food and drinks. She felt a bit overwhelmed at the effort he’d put in.
She sat with a space between Toji as she wanted to lay down, having her arms wrapped around her legs. But the moment they began takeoff, she frowned lightly at how fast the jet was moving, scooting herself closer to him, her anxiety now a bit on the higher scale.
“Scared?”
“What, are you gonna make fun of me cause I’m not a big fan of planes?”
“Why would I do that?” he questions, solemn to his voice. It makes her feel almost embarrassed, like she assumed something out of him.
She exhales, “My bad,” pulling her hands along her arms, feeling herself becoming colder.
“Don’t start that apologizing bullshit. You could’ve just came closer,” he mutters, grabbing her waist and pulling her close to his lap, her head now resting along his legs, his palm almost too warm as he rubs the skin between her thighs and ass.
It makes her take in a bit of breath, still trying to get used to his touch all over again. The minute he pulled the blanket from behind the chair while still rubbing her cold skin, her eyes felt heavy, and she felt extremely comforted by his touch. It wasn’t long before her lashes met with her cheeks.
He looked down at her—the way the sunlight from the window streamed off her face, her long lashes, freckles igniting from the light around her head, cascading along the skin of her shoulder, her breathing a melodic tune. 
Fuck. He was becoming addicted to her all over again.
She didn’t realize how long she’d been asleep. When her eyes opened again, she noticed as her arm pulled around his stomach, face deep within his abdomen as she slept. His hand had instinctively made its way to the back of her head, stroking the back of her neck, rubbing lightly at the skin.
“You’re always so warm,” she says softly, burying her face back into his lap, “Like I have two blankets,” she hums.
He chuckled, letting his hand go from the back of her neck to her waist, his hand now rubbing her ass through her sweats as he looked down into her now opened eyes.
“You’ still tired?”
She shakes her head, “No,” then looks up, seeing as his eyes are focused along his phone, a video playing as she asks, “What you’ watching?”
 “NFL highlights. I put money on the Eagles to win today. They’re losing. I’m about to flip the plane upside down.”
“Oh god, you’re already starting to act your age. Checking sports at random times of the day. Should I start calling you Grandpa?”
“You could call me something else.”
“Never mind. You’re still a child,” she rolls her eyes, “How far are we now?”
“We’re still about an hour out,” he looks back to his phone, “Why? You’ got somewhere else to be?”
“Mmm, maybe. Might find me a sexy ass Italian man and run off with him—“ he’s already leaning his face down close to hers, making her giggle as he grunts at her words, “Yeah, okay. You can run off with him if they find his body.” 
The last hour before they land, he can see her becoming more comfortable with him. It’s a side of her that he hadn’t gotten to see before. She sits up, changing her entire position as she straddles his lap, pressing pecks along his jaw, wanting to touch him in any way she could. His eyes were still along his sports as she used him as her own personal playground, allowing her to pull the hairs off his arms, scratch the scalp of his hair, even plucking his eyebrows at one point. He didn’t mind any of it. 
The moment they hear the pilot go over the intercom of the jet, Stoney leans over at the window, peering down at the overhead of their destination—Rome, Italy.
The sight of the overhead lights of the city, the way the sunset beamed through the sky, he could see the way her eyes lit up in awe. The moment they land, they’re met with the chauffeur as he places their bags in the trunk of the Cadillac Escalade, making their way out of the airport. 
She peered out the window as they drove into the city, the roads small, bricked cement along the ground, pastel buildings and infinite amounts of greenery everywhere she looked. The vehicle glides through the crowded streets, the sounds surrounding them in a buzz. Horns were going off constantly and people walking along the sidewalks, their voices blending into a constant hum. 
When they pull into the driveway of what essentially could be a villa, Toji tips the chauffeur, hopping out of the truck as he pulls their suitcases onto the ground. Stoney looks up at the Mediterranean styled home, glancing down at the stained glass double doors.
The moment they make it inside, a beautiful marble and hardwood space is made up of open-concept. The living room is surrounded by large windows able to see out into the streets. The kitchen is made out of a beautiful white stone, a large island sitting in the middle with a dining room table in the next room. Two doors lead into the bedroom, a vintage look to it, champagne comforter set with a fancily carved headboard, long golden curtains high along the ceiling, leading to a spacious balcony.
Stoney’s eyes couldn’t find one place to look. She’s so distracted by the beauty of this house, she’s pulled away as she feels a pair of arms sneak along her hips, feeling his breath along her neck, holding her close to him. 
She sighs, rubbing the skin of his arm as she tells him, “How are you trying to impress me on your birthday?”
He chuckles against her neck, the feeling of his lips against her skin sending shivers down her spine as his chin rests along the curve of her shoulder. One of his hands slowly travels over her hoodie, gently tracing the skin of the side of her abdomen.
“Don’t gotta impress you, baby. Just trying to make you comfortable. You’ comfortable?”
She nods her head as she breathlessly replies, “Mhm,” before she then adds, “You should go shower. You still haven’t told me how you wanna celebrate tonight.”
He hums against her skin, his lips slowly caressing her neck in an open mouthed kiss, “You’re tryna avoid me.” 
The laugh that comes from her lips is forced, awkward even. It was as if they hadn’t already been together on the drive there, the plane ride, all of it. But they were here now, in this intimate space, and maybe that intimidated her a bit. 
She squeezes his arm tighter as she lies, “No. I just take forever to get ready and think you should go first. Womanly shit. And—I’m hungry,” she adds on, turning towards him, lightly pulling away as she gives him a smile.
He could see the unease in her eyes, and that familiar shyness that would always take over her. He nods his head as he lets her pull away, keeping a hold of her hand, a subtle understanding in his eyes, “What do you want for dinner?”
“I’d ask you that, birthday boy,” she brings her arms around his neck to make sure she wasn’t being awkward, “What are you in the mood for?”
“You really wanna know what I’m in the mood for?”
The question seems innocent, but she knew it wasn’t. She was blushing hard enough. When he chuckles at her slow blinking at him, she sighs out, “Toji…” hearing his amusement as he brushes his nose against hers, finally allowing her to breathe as he pulls back to go shower.
He turns to make his way down the hall to the bedroom, calling over his shoulder,  “I’ll be done in twenty minutes, don’t set the house on fire while I’m gone.”
Her eyes follow him, the way his back muscles flex as he peels the hoodie he wears while walking towards the bathroom, nearly tilting her body to follow him with her vision. 
She mindlessly replies, “….Okay.” 
God.
It was starting to become a game of cat and mouse. The only thing was, Stoney wasn’t sure which part she played. He came out of the shower with a towel wrapped along his hips just begging to fall, his large arms reaching up as he dried his dark hair, muscles flexing along his stomach with every move he made, tattoos almost moving with him.
All of the thoughts she had smacked her upside the head like a brutal fight, driving her insane. She moved around him as she went into the bathroom. 
She took her time on her hair and makeup, wanting to look as good as possible. Her dark hair was pin straight, layers prominent within the dark shine of her tresses. Her lashes create a cat-eye, dark liner in her bottom lid, a mauve and a dark brown mixture along her lips. Even if she’d gotten the approval from her sister, she felt…strange in her dress.
 It was sexy, purposeful to catch someone's eye. The black silk somehow clung to her frame, but still had a flow to it, spaghetti straps along her shoulders, lace clutched along her breast, nearly showcasing the brown of her nipples if you looked close enough. The left side of it had a slit all the way to her hip, giving the illusion that she wore nothing under. She pressed her lips together as she pulled her hair behind her ear, tilting to the side as she checked herself out. 
Her eyes then follow over to the open door, seeing as Toji’s frame now stood there, suit clutched to his figure as it fit him perfectly. His tie was still loose, buttons open from the top as he was getting himself ready. In all of that, his jaw visibly tightened at the sight of her. 
“…Is it too much?” she softly asks.
He walks up behind her, his hands trailing over her hips, watching her face in the mirror through his darkened gaze. His eyes roam over her frame, taking in the lace along her chest, the skin of her neck. 
“Turn.”
She turns towards him with a breath, the sound of his voice making her want to vibrate. She squeals as he places her along the counter of the bathroom, holding him as if she would fall. 
“Please say something else before my brain explodes.”
He chuckles, his hands clutching the skin of her legs, fingers running along her thigh, going under the silky material of the dress. He could practically feel her skin trembling underneath his palms as he looked over her.
“Christ, baby,” his voice comes out raspy as his eyes roam over her body, his fingers gently squeezing her thigh. “Shit is almost criminal at how good you look.”
She exhales at that, “You okay with the dress?” Her eyes glance back and forth, seeing that the question almost confused him.
“If you’re asking whether or not I give a fuck about you showing your body, the answer is I don’t. I know how to fight,” he tells her, his words making her giggle a bit as he gives a kiss to her neck, trailing up her jaw.
The moment she feels him close to her lips, she pulls his mouth back as she questions, “Need help with your tie?”
He lets out an amused huff as she pulls his mouth away, trying to distract herself. He smirks a little as he answers, “I’m grown as fuck. But yeah, do it for me.”
She wraps her fingers along the silk as she begins tying it around his neck, rolling her eyes as she says, “I’m aware, you’re six years older than me. That’s like fifty-thousand years.”
“Very funny.”
 He watches intently as she ties the tie around his neck, her fingers touching the silk, making sure it was proper. 
He smirks a bit as he asks, “You’ gonna be a smartass all night long?”
“Anyways, I couldn’t find much on the restaurants close by, the more local places seem to not be searchable. It also looks like we’ll have to walk a bit to see all the pretty stuff. Ooh! I see the Colosseum isn’t too far away, and apparently around this time they have a big Christmas tree next to it! I wanna take a bunch of pics for Sai to see,” she smiles, “And then there’s this beautiful church with all these paintings of angels on the ceiling, and you can take pictures of it!” She’s rambling, buttoning up the top he wears beneath his suit jacket. 
She halts herself a bit, pulling back her fingers as she says, “Sorry. We can do whatever you want first, of course.”
He watches her ramble on, a small smile on his face as she listed out the things she read about and that piqued her interest. 
“I wanna go wherever you wanna go, baby,” he tells her, his voice coming off a bit softer than usual, “You’re the one excited to see this stuff, so let’s do that first.”
God, she hated being soft with this man. To hear him sincerely tell her that, she closes the final button on his suit, trying to hide her smile as she girlishly replies, “Okay.”
“We gotta go soon before we don’t leave. You look too fuckin’ good in this dress right now.”
“Down, boy,” she giggles, watching as he pulls on her Christian Louboutin ballet heels, giving a kiss to her feet as he ties the satin along her ankles. He pulls her off the counter with a smack to her ass, grunting as he kisses her forehead with a, “C’mon.” 
Seeing the sun set along the city was a sight. It seemed like the night made it wake up from its daily slumber, bodies crawling along the brick ground as she led the way. Her eyes traveled along the pastel colored buildings, the smell of food, music strumming from musicians along the street, windows freely open from neighborhood apartments.
It’s almost as if love fills the air. She watches as people sit on the outside, kissing and touching one another in romantic forms, continuing to pull him past a lit up flower shop—she can’t help but slow down. Her eyes fall along the pastel pink petals, yellow within the middle of it.
She gasps softly, “They’re Lotus flowers…”
He stops as soon as she pauses, his eyes going to the flowers that caught her eye. The petals looked pristine and vibrant, so much as if they’d been grown out of magic. Seeing how she carefully touched them, almost as if she’d break them in two, they looked like the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. 
“You like them?”
“They’re pretty,” she smiles gently, “Sai would love these in our little garden.”
“They’re yours, then. Take as many as you want.” 
He’s already at the register, propping a cigarette in between his lips, beginning to exchange the cash he carried for euros with the cashier as he pulled out his wallet.
She tilts her head, pursing her lips, “Don’t be funny, Toji. How am I supposed to get flowers across the country?”
“I’ll hire an entire fuckin’ army to deliver them if you need me to.” 
She sighs lightly, holding the bouquet close to her chest. She thanks the cashier as he smiles, standing against her heels as she presses a kiss to his cheek, “You’re such a sweet bean. Sai will love these.”
He huffs a bit at the kiss on the cheek, her lips feeling impossibly warm against his skin.
“Yeah, okay,” he mutters within her ear, kissing her cheek back, “Let’s go.”
As they continue walking farther down, she spots a restaurant across the bridge. Christmas decorations hang all along the tent of the building. She clutches his hand a bit tighter, using her other hand to hold her bouquet as she turns to him, “Can we go to that one?”
“We gotta get on a boat to get to that one,” he mentions.
Her eyes fall down into the water, seeing a man sitting on the end of a thin canoe, swaying the paddles idly. She raises her eyebrow as she says, “Boat? That shit is small as fuck. How isn’t he flipping on that?”
He chuckles at her response, “You never seen a gondola?”
She narrows her eyes, “Oh, so you think you’re better than me? Why you’ know what that is? You fucked a bitch from Italy or something?”
He blinks slowly at her, playing along as he replies, “Yeah, my passport’s stamped as hell.” 
“Oh, well how about you call your lil’ foreign hoes to come celebrate your birthday? I’d rather swim than get on a canoe with you!”
“Gondola.”
“Whatever the fuck!” 
She waves politely at the man, taking his hand instead of Toji’s as she steps down onto the navy blue boat. Her heel makes her wobble a bit, the feeling of the water making her tense as she sits along the bench, taking a deep breath as they become situated. 
The moment they began moving, she could feel everything beneath them, including the water swaying. These moments seemed romantic enough in movies, but right now, it was kinda terrifying. The moment the paddle had the entire boat sway, she placed her flowers along Toji’s lap, gripping the end of his suit jacket as she exhaled. 
“Don’t make fun of me.”
“Even after you were just talking shit?”
She goes to talk more shit, the boat teetering, her mouth clasping shut as she grips him tighter, laying her head against his shoulder as she nearly whimpers, “Toji.” 
He sighs, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her even closer, “You���re good, momma. Sai will still have a parent by the end of this boat ride.”
She nods her head, keeping her eyes fluttered closed. He then says, “Unless…”
“Unless what?” her head peaks up. 
“Every night in my dreams—I see you, I feel you…”
She blinks, “You are not singing the Titanic song right now. You’re not funny. You’re just not,” she pouts, hiding her face within his shoulder. 
They finally arrive along the other side of the street, Stoney beginning to walk faster until she makes it to the restaurant, finally accepting Toji’s hand, following the host who sits them down.
“I’m not talking to you for like five minutes,” she huffs, placing her flowers against the extra chair, “That was mean.”
“I see where Sai gets that pouting shit from. It’s cuter when she does it.”
Stoney rolls her eyes, taking the menu and smacking his palm with it, “Say you’re sorry.”
He rubs his hand where she smacked, “Damn,” he mutters, before letting out a sigh, “Apologies for scaring you on the gondola, my lady.”
She smiles, “It’s okay. And stop smoking,” she reaches over to pull the cigarette from his mouth, his entire body conveniently moving back, opening his legs a bit as he manspreads along the chair, continuing to puff his cigarette. 
She hated how good he looked in a suit. The moment he orders a whiskey as she orders a crown and Coke with lime, her eyes glance over him again, patting her fingers against the table.
“I had some questions for you,” she says, her slender eyes sparkling under the lights.
He shifts in his seat, taking another drag of his cigarette, the smoke slowly leaving his lips as he raises his eyebrows, listening intently. 
“Go ahead.”
“Mmm…well, where are you from?” 
He places the cigarette in between his fingers, bringing the whiskey glass to his lips as he takes a small sip, his eyes never leaving hers. 
“Tokyo,” he simply says, his voice coming out a bit huskier than usual.
“Why come to the states? Were there no reptiles to wrangle out in Tokyo? Or someone that needed help moving?” She questions.
He chuckles a bit at her words, shaking his head as he answers, “No one was willing to pay me what I wanted. Started helping a friend move boxes, and decided I wanted my own company. Ended up helping a family get a snake out their house, it piqued another interest. Is this an interview?”
She rolls her eyes, “This is a date, we have to get to know each other!”
“My fault. You’re right, pretty. Continue.”
“Hm…so Japanese was your first language?”
He hums as his eyes roam over her, watching her take sips of her drink, seeing the way the lights in the restaurant made her skin glow gently. 
“Yeah,” he confirms, setting his glass back down onto the table, “Didn’t learn English until I was thirteen. Took a while to learn, shit was hard.”
“Tell me something,” she asks him, leaning more forward on the table, “Japanese is pretty. Wanna hear it from your mouth.”
His lips curve up as she leans forward on the table in front of him, her eyes looking intently. He doesn’t hesitate in his response, his voice coming out deeper, the language sounding more intimate, almost as if it were being spoken only for her to listen to. 
“Anata to sekkusushitai,” he murmurs, his eyes locked on hers.
She blinks as his voice lowers, tilting her head as she questions, “Gonna say it in English now?”
“Tell me what you think I said,” he offers, his tongue running along his lip before he grabs his cigarette, taking another puff.
“Something you ain’t have no business saying,” she squints, “I knew you didn’t like me. Cause you don’t wanna tell me! I’m not your type. Do you even like black women?”
He raises an eyebrow, “So that’s what we’re doing now?”
She crosses her arms, “Well, yes! I mean, do you? How do you know how to handle a black ass situation? What you’ gonna do if you’re fucking me, and you’re pulling my hair too hard that my wig comes flying off? Cause that can happen!” 
“Shit, guess I gotta start pulling at your braids then.”
She presses her hands over her face as she squeaks, “Ah! Nooo. You did not just say that. I’m about to faint,” she fans her face, ignoring the full on laugh that comes from him.
“That’s not what you wanted to hear, huh? That I’m gonna grip—“
“Please stop. I beg.” 
“Well, don’t question how I feel about you then. You should know that shit by now.” 
They then order their food, Toji noticing as Stoney constantly checks the flowers beside her, gently touching them every few seconds. 
He raises an eyebrow, “Think they’re gonna fly away?”
“I’m just tryna think how I could preserve them for Sai. She’ll be so happy.”
His jaw clenches a bit at the sight of her beaming,  wanting to be as close to her as possible. Instead, he keeps his hands to himself as he then states, “Talk to me about Sai.”
She blinks, “About Sai?”
Taking another puff from his cigarette, his eyes don’t leave her face as he nods in response, “Yeah, your face lights up every time you say her name. I wanna keep that up.”
The sentence makes her a bit warm, but she knows how happy the thought of her child makes her. She says, “Well, she’s been doing really good since she started school. She gets along with the other kids, and she’s inviting them to have a sleepover for her birthday. I’m not sure what theme she wants, I think Minnie Mouse but then she said that all the girls at school right now like BRATZ, which shocked me, considering that was the thing when I was younger. She likes Hello Kitty too, but I think she might’ve outgrown her a bit. I’m tryna get her to like Strawberry Shortcake, cause I love that brand and want an excuse to buy a bunch of shit.” 
She heard herself talking and talking, pulling herself back a bit as she lightly laughed, “Yeah…but she’s—she’s great. She’s happy to be with her dad for Christmas, even if he isn’t my favorite person in the world.”
She slows down on her continuation, noticing the way he stares at her. She raises an eyebrow, “What?”
“Nothing.” 
He takes another drag from his cigarette, his eyes never once leaving hers, “Just seeing how long I could keep you talking. Your voice is prettier than fuckin’ angels singing.”
Her heart flutters a bit, eyes pulling away as they place the pasta with meatballs along the table, the large heart shaped pepperoni pizza making Stoney want to dreamily sigh like a princess. She watches as Toji digs the spoon within the plate, swirling the utensil in between the noodles and placing it towards her mouth. She immediately opens in response, pulling the food in, humming as it tasted delicious.
She groans, “Either this is too good or I’m just starving.”
“Probably both. You were too busy acting like you didn’t fuck with me to have a meal before we got here.”
He takes his thumb to wipe a bit of pasta sauce from the corner of her mouth, “You’re making a mess, momma. Don’t need you crying that your dress is ruined.”
As she feels him wiping sauce off the side of her mouth, the buzz of her cocktail creeps its way in. It’s like all of her alcohol had suddenly shot down between her legs. She was a lightweight, unfortunately. 
Otherwise, she wouldn’t have leaned forward, grabbed his finger, wrapped her lips around it and began sucking the sauce off herself. Her feline eyes see his jaw tighten, blinking innocently as she questions, “Am I clean?”
“Chill. I’m tryna’ be good.”
She giggles, pulling herself back, her eyes becoming low as her voice is more smooth, “Think my little drink is catching up to me.”
There’s that damned laugh again. 
He groans as she pulls back, her voice going a bit lower, a new sultriness to it that makes his pants a bit uncomfortable. He runs a hand through his hair, shifting in his chair before muttering, “You’ good, pretty? Need some water?”
She shakes her head, “Mmm, no. Just want your hand, like when you rub my leg.”
He lets out another soft chuckle, his lips curving into a smirk. Taking another drag from his cigarette, he puts it out in the ashtray on the table, watching the smoke slowly leave his lips. Instead of putting his hand on her leg from under the table, he lifts her heel from beneath it, placing it along his lap as he begins rubbing the skin. 
“Like this?”
“Mhm,” she nods, “You’re such a sweetie to me. Look so handsome in your suit.”
“Nothing in comparison to your dress. You’re tryna kill me.” 
He looks around, seeing on the opposite side of the tables that a group of people stand around, dancing to the relaxing music a band plays not too far from the restaurant. 
He then asks, “When’d you open up that studio?”
“Not too long after we stopped talking,” she replies, playing with the straw in her glass, “My ex-husband always said my pottery business would never become more than chump change. So, I made myself a studio. Make decent money, too. I’ve never been so happy.”
“He‘s a fuckin’ idiot,” he comments, his voice coming out rougher. “Should’ve never doubted you. I’m proud as fuck of you, baby.” 
Something in his words makes her eyes twitch. It was like a damn breaking within a River, a sentiment she hadn’t felt before. Her eyes glance over to the people that dance, turning back as she reaches out for his hand, “Come dance with me?”
Despite having two left feet in his mind, there’s no universe in which he would ever turn down an offer to be close to her.
“Drink some water, then we can go,” he pulls the cup towards her mouth.
She waves him off, “I’m fine, Fushiguro. Jesus. I just feel a lil floaty, a cocktail did not put me on my ass. Everything just feels better at this moment, so I’m happy. Dance with me,” she repeats, standing as she yanks the larger man by his arm.
He doesn’t budge from his seat. With a sigh, she reaches for her water, sipping it heavily, watching as he then stands with a grunt, “Hard headed ass,” now pulling her to where the other couples stand, wrapping his fingers along her waist, satisfied with the way she brings her arms around his neck.
She can feel the way she presses all of her weight against him, so comfortable in his arms that his grip is the only thing keeping her from falling backwards. 
She sighs, “So, thirty-three—how do you feel about that age? Do you feel…accomplished in life?”
“Thirty-three’s cool,” he answers, his voice coming out lower, “I’m more interested in thirty-five. But at the moment, I got everything I need.”
“What’s everything to you?” 
The soft hum of music surrounds them, but all he can do is focus on her hair brushing against his skin, looking more captivating in the lights of the restaurant.
“I’m a business owner,” he replies, “Got a roof over my head, support in areas I need it. The only thing I’m missing is my stubborn ass woman to share that with.”
That sentence makes her clutch his suit a bit, unable to let the tipsiness that battles the sobriety of her mind ask questions she usually wouldn’t. 
She then asks, “Why do you want me, Toji? I mean—I have a kid, a shitty ex-husband to constantly deal with. Your life seems…nice. No turmoil, no one else’s baggage.”
“That’s your fuckin’ problem. You don’t see yourself the way I see you,” he grunts, his eyes looking almost darker as he continues to speak, “The way you ramble when you get excited, the way you laugh, the radiance you spread regardless of the shit you’ve gone through. You’re under my skin. You’ll be adding years onto my life.”
She blinks up at him, a sharp inhale quiet in her mouth at his words. She had been trying to push this man away all this time, and he wasn’t giving up. He had shown her an affection in close range that she’d never experienced before— there was no reason to be afraid of him. 
“…Solaya.”
She sees him raise an eyebrow, continuing as she says, “That’s…my real name. I don’t usually give it out—it’s a rarity,” she rubs her finger over his jaw, giving him a vulnerability she hadn’t given anyone else. 
Her words sink in, her name falling from her lips. She was giving him a part of her. He leans down to take in her scent—a mixture of the flowers surrounding them and that intoxicating vanilla. 
“I want you. I’ll chase you to the ends of the fuckin’ earth, Solaya.”
He grips her up more, her heels now coming along his shoes, twisting her around so that it makes her giggle, it being filled with so much sincerity. She leans her head up, pulling him down closer as she admits to him, “I want you too,” brushing her mouth along his jaw, her breath hitching at her own actions.
The moment he lowers his face, his mouth engulfs hers, trapping her within a kiss that made her feel like her head had been ducked in a bucket of water. His lips move with hers in a way that overpowers her mouth, kneeling her head back as he practically claims her within his actions.
Their lips move in sync, his hand gripping her jaw as he tilts her head back further, his tongue running along the flesh of her mouth. The air seems to suffocate them. 
She pulls him back, her face warm, pressing her forehead against his as she breathlessly giggles, “We’re in public, Fushiguro.”
It almost made him growl like an animal as he’s brought to reality—but he didn’t want to push. And to see the rush of blood on her cheeks, he pulls his mouth up to kiss her forehead as he grunts, “Let’s finish eating.”
Her comfortability now opened tenfold, talking his ear off in ways she’d never done before. He was there to listen to all of it. They’d finished their food, traveling back across the water where their villa met. She was now back to being full on tipsy, considering she had drunk some of his whiskey, knowing that the mixture would create an entirely different personality within her own. She was bold, talkative, and relaxed. Though, her feet did hurt. 
Toji had given her his socks so she wouldn’t walk along the ground barefoot, holding her heels and flowers in his free hand, his other holding hers. 
She grumbled as she took another step, “Ugh—fuckin’ expensive shoes should be comfortable.”
He stops walking, chuckling as the villa wasn’t too far ahead, “C’mere, pretty.”
“I’m fine—“ once again, she squeaks, unable to fight as he’s already swooping her up in his arms, now carrying her bridal style. 
“You don’t listen.”
He finally makes it to the door of the villa, tossing the keys along the nightstand close to it. She pressed herself back on the ground as she tossed the socks off her feet and took off, squealing, “I wanna see the sky tonight!” 
“You just wanted me to carry your sneaky ass, huh? Talking about your feet hurt.”
She finally gets to the balcony, pulling the doors as the cool night air brushes along her skin.  Night had come, the stars above illuminating the stars, and the moon glowing so beautifully that it was almost hypnotizing. With soft waves in the water, the breeze was just perfect.
She feels a clutch along the back of her dress, his voice husky as he states, “You’re gonna fall.”
“I’m fine,” she repeats, “Look at the moon!” She wraps his arms along her hips, wanting to feel his touch, “Isn’t it pretty?” She hums, leaning herself back against him, almost in the same position they were in earlier within the day.
“Ain’t as pretty as you, momma,” he mutters, nuzzling his face into her hair, taking in her sweet scent again.
“Being corny comes with the old man syndrome?” She questions, lightly laughing to herself, falling deeper into his chest.
He murmurs, “Being a smartass comes with that young woman syndrome?” His thumbs lightly caress against her skin, his breath fanning just beneath her ear.
She goes to answer—but the way his hands trail under the slit of her dress, wrapping his fingers along her inner thigh, she can’t seem to focus. 
The alcohol within her system has her trail her hand up behind herself, wrapping it to the back of his neck and pulling him down to where his lips meet her throat. 
“…I like when you kiss me here,” she says, her voice soft, quiet. 
He lets out a sharp inhale, his lips skimming along the skin of her throat, not yet making contact, “Where?” he asks, his voice low, “Here?” 
He presses his lips gently along the side of her neck, right along the flesh that she pulled him to. It makes her clutch him a bit tighter, the throb going in between her legs as her skin now feels sensitive to the touch. 
She nods her head, biting her lip lightly as she exhales, “…Yeah.” 
His lips continue to trail against that same spot, sucking and kissing against her neck lazily, leaving spots of red along her skin. He murmurs between kisses, “Talk to me. Tell me where else you’ want my mouth.” 
His touch was like no other, and the desire for him was aching at this point. It had been so long. She pulls her hair along one side of her shoulder as she leans forward a bit and whispers, “Lower…” 
His lips attach to the skin of her back firmly, “Yeah?” he asks, his voice low, “You want my mouth all over you, huh?”
Her body shudders as he presses his hand along her lower body, pushing her forward a bit so she has to lean against the balcony’s architecture. The straps of her dress are falling off her shoulders, revealing more of her back to him, her body almost tantalizing, moving like sultry choreography.
It’s almost as if something in her clicks, and she realizes that she’s along a balcony, the fear of someone seeing them giving her a reality check. It makes her face warm, her eyes fluttering open a bit as she turns back to him, “Toji—“
Her mouth clasps shut, his palms moving like fire as he pulls her dress up to her hips, yanking the lace of her thong, dragging his tongue up the entirety of her. She latches her palm along his hair, nudging herself forward as she stands on her toes, gasping all the air she had in her chest. She was speechless.
Her face screws up at the rush of pleasure that comes through, the feeling lost as she hadn’t been with anyone in months. She whimpers, “F—fuck. Wait—” 
“Been patient as fuck, baby. Just take it,” he tells her, his tongue slurping in between her folds, lapping her up like she was the last thing he’d ever eat. 
He groans deeply as his tongue delves between her thighs, savoring her taste and scent. He grips her ass firmly, kneading the supple flesh as he laps at her clit, growling against the heated skin.
Her back arches into him, her brain going fuzzy as her eyelids come together, the gasp that pulls from her lips nearly deafening, trying to push his mouth away as she whimpers, “We’re on the balcony, Fushiguro…” 
The sound of her whimper sends a jolt straight to his dick, already hard and straining against his pants. He doesn't care about the balcony; all he can think about is making her feel good. He continues his assault on her pussy, licking and sucking recklessly.
"You're fuckin’ drenched," he growls against her soaked folds, "Relax. Need you to gush in my fuckin’ mouth," His hands move to her hips, pulling her harder against his jaw as he devours her. 
He doesn't stop, can’t stop, his tongue swirls around her clit before sucking it between his lips, giving it a gentle tug.
Arousal drowning him within the ocean of her doesn’t feel like enough. He needs more. He spreads her apart, dipping his tongue deep inside her, the intrusion making her walls clench, Stoney slapping her hand along her mouth as she trembles out a moan. She feels him hold her thighs apart as he exposes her to the cool night air. The contrast only serves to heighten her arousal, and she cries out, her other hand flying deeper into his hair to keep him in place even as she tries to pull away. 
"Toji... please..." 
Toji's growl rumbles deep in his chest as he drinks in every drop of her, coating his tongue in her arousal. Her pleas, begging for release, only fuel his hunger for her. 
“Take your hand off your mouth,” he grunts in between, knocking his head side to side, his nose practically burying in between her legs. He’s almost drunk, intoxicated by her scent, loving the way she drips all over his face and jaw, wetter than she’d ever been for him.
She slides her fingers in between her lips, shaking her head as she whimpers, “Gonna be too loud.”
"I don’t wanna hear that shit," he snarls, his breath hot against her pussy as he sucks her clit back into his mouth, “Ride my fuckin’ face,” the vibrations sending shivers through her trembling body.
She bites down on her fingers, muffling her moans as best she could while still trying to ride out the intense pleasure coursing through her veins. Her thighs begin to quake, her toes pressing harder as she stands on the tips of her feet,  pushing her hips further onto his face, grinding herself against his eager mouth. 
His words are filthy, crude, but there's no mistaking the desperation in them. He needs this, needs her, more than anything. And judging by the way she's trembling, the way her juices are still dripping down his chin, she needs it too. But covering her sounds was starting to piss him off. 
He pulls his mouth back, Stoney feeling as he raises himself up, the intensity of her state keeping her body humming regardless of his missing touch. She’s too floaty to realize him wrapping his large arm around her neck, trapping her almost within a gentle headlock. She thought he was trying to kill her. 
His mouth is against her ear, heavily breathing within it, the sound making her heart pound in her chest. She’s unable to see but could feel the monster between his legs, her thighs immediately wanting to tighten as his pink tip nudged at her folds, stretching her out before he was even close to being inside. 
She’s already protesting, wanting to claw out of his hold, clutching her hand around the arm that holds her in place. He uses his free hand to slam his palm against her ass, Stoney shuddering out a gasp as she drags her nails against his skin, Toji tugging her even closer as he tsks, “Nuh-uh, quit all that,” sinking himself within her, bruising her walls in seconds, the sensitivity sending her in overdrive. She can feel her eyes welling with tears all too pleasurable, feeling as he locks his hips forward, dragging her ass back to clap against his abdomen, the sounds of her gushing like a faucet shocking to her own ears. She inhales deeply for seconds, shuddering out the craziest whine she’d ever heard come from her lips as tears fall down her face, feeling herself going into shock as she pushes back against him, squirting as if they’d been fucking for hours.
“Yeah? You’ cumming like that already?” 
He’s holding her in place, her eyes rolling to the back of her head, nearly breaking skin as she drags her nails down his arms, crying in repetitions, “I’m c—cumming, oh m—god,”  nearly wanting to be mad at him for the arrogant laugh that drops out his mouth. 
He growls into her ear, "You’re makin' a fuckin’ mess,” The wetness seeping down his dick making every thrust slicker, allowing him to plunge deeper each time he pulls his hips back, rocking them forward. 
He coos in her ear regardless of the loud noises she makes, “You’ cumming, baby? Yeahh, I hear it,” He grips her ass tighter, spanking her hard enough to leave marks, determined to keep her babbling.
She’s completely out of her mind. She thought about it often, having this pleasure again— it was embarrassing to see how much she needed it. Needed him. 
“Pussy missed me, baby,” he grunts in her ear, her eyes tightly shut as she groans, her skin bouncing against his hips sharply echoing within her mind, the cream of her arousal stickily spreading each time he thrusted in. It was creating more and more, she felt like she was going blind.
“Tryna’ keep her from me, who else is gonna fuck you like this?”
He’s in her brain, punctuating his words with each thrust. He leans in, capturing her ear as he kisses it, her whimpers and moans high pitched. He can feel her pushing back, sucking air into her mouth, her face caught into a frown from how good this all feels. He tightens his arm along her neck, coaching her through as he talks, "Doing good as fuck, momma. Take every inch.” 
His grip on her hips tightens, using the leverage to piston into her harder, faster. 
She reaches her free palm behind herself, pressing it along his hip and squeezing, whimpering immediately as he catches it, pulling the hand behind her back. She’s panting at that point, but giving no actual responses. He spanks her again, which drops a pleading moan from her mouth, rougher in fucking her as softly cries, “Baby…”
She’s just trying to get through the movements he gives her, feeling like she can’t. It’s too good. But it’s also unfortunate how badly he wanted to hear her voice. 
He releases her from that jail of a position, now possibly putting her in a worse one. He’s holding her upright as she now faces him, one leg draped over his shoulder, the other foot barely touching the floor. He’s got her pinned against the railing, her chest pressed against his, her throat constricted between his palm, needing her attention. 
“Put it in,” he grunts. 
Maybe she was right—he was actually trying to kill her. She attempts to pull his mouth down to kiss him, face warm as she didn’t want to keep seeing the stoicness of his expression. The scar on his lip twitches, as if he's amused by her shyness. He’s already slapping his tip against her clit, making her jump as she’s trying to catch her breath. 
She wraps her fingers along the tip, exhaling as she sinks herself down onto him, clutching the back of his hair as she pouts, “…You’re tryna make fun of me.”
He smirks at her accusation, enjoying the way she clutches his hair as she sinks down. He can feel every inch of her enveloping him, her walls clamping around his length as he arrogantly huffs, "Nah, just looking at your pretty ass face," pulling her hips back, tugging them forward, chuckling within her mouth, swallowing her desperate pleas as he tells her, “Fuck me. Take my dick however you want it.”
She’s breathless as she grinds herself against him—eyes fluttering shut, unable to handle his reaction to how she whimpered and whined for him. She was mewling at this point, her body pliant within his grip.
Her inhales are almost concerning, clasping him as if she feared that he’d let go of her. She rocks her hips down, pulling him up by his hair, pressing their foreheads together as she whimpers, “Nobody’s…ever made me feel this good…” 
Her words almost wreck him. 
Toji groans against her, his touch almost brutal as she pulls him closer. He feels the urge to have her all to himself, to be the only one to make her feel this way. To be the only one to take her apart.  
“Yeah? How good?” 
“So good,” her words are soft in cries as he latches his lips along her neck, “S—so good,” she repeats, mouth coming back up to his, breathless in her responses. 
Their lips press together gently, his hands moving to grip the back of her thighs in a possessive clench. He then takes her other leg to lift up, placing them both over his shoulders, Stoney quickly latching her arms around his throat, holding her fingers together in her palms. 
The sounds are filthy as he’s dropping her onto his dick, eyes rolling inside her mind to search for her sanity as they were in this tapout position, listening to the sound their skin makes together, Stoney’s mouth dragging out a desperate moan. 
“You heard me fuckin’ talking to you.”
 He circled back to his words earlier, balls becoming drenched with her arousal, squelching between their skin as the back of her thighs clap along his abdomen. 
He repeats, “Who is else is gonna fuck you like this, huh?” 
A hard thrust comes at the emphasis of his word, bottoming out inside of her, holding her close as she claws to be freed from him. She drags her nails within his back, pitiful in her sounds as she breaks,  “Ohshi— fuck, baby—” she’s gasping, “I don’t know.”
"Don't know?" He mocks, punctuating each word with even more hard, deep thrust, “You know.”
He leans in, his hot breath ghosting over her ear as he growls, "Pussy been mine, you’re too fuckin’ hard headed,” Another brutal thrust, his hips snapping up to meet hers, "And you love it, don't you?"
She’s sobbing at this point, too full of a deadly pleasure he fills within her veins, knowing just how she wanted to be fucked. She cracks, shuddering out whines as she nods, “Love it so much, baby, f—fuck. Take your pussy, baby. Fuck me. Please. Please…”
She pulls him closer, pressing their foreheads against one another as she softly says, “Missed you so much, Toji…” she’s hiccuping, her tears fluttering her eyes, seeming like they came from more than just pleasure. They were honest.
At her whispered confession, something shifts in Toji's expression. The lust is still burning in his eyes, but there's an underlying tenderness, a depth of emotion he rarely allows himself to show. He cups her face, thumb brushing away a tear as he murmurs, "Missed you too, momma. More than you know,” His voice is rough with unspoken feelings, the admission heavy in the air between them, tension being cut each time her clit gets a rush of pleasure from how deep he plunges inside of her. 
He holds her gaze, the intensity of his emotions palpable. Then, without warning, he captures her lips in a searing kiss, pouring all those hidden sentiments into the passionate embrace. His tongue delves deep, claiming her mouth as thoroughly as he claims her body. 
"I'm never letting you go again," he declares, his voice thick with conviction.
She gasps at his words, clinging back to his hair again, pulling him lower as she sighs, “I’m so sorry, I…” Her abdomen tightens, fighting against her words, “I’m cumming, I need you…”
At her desperate plea, Toji's resolve crumbles. He knows he should slow down, savor this moment, but the urgency in her voice is too powerful to resist. With a primal growl, he reclaims her mouth in a bruising kiss, burying himself so deep within her, she screams, attempting to cover her mouth, Toji snatching her palm, clutching her jaw back into his mouth, allowing her to fall apart against his lips.
As she gushes against him, Toji loses himself entirely, his own release rushing in a way he didn’t expect. He pounds into her, chasing his own pleasure with low moans as he drinks in her cries of ecstasy. The sound of skin slapping against skin, their ragged breathing, and her broken moans fill the room, creating a symphony of raw, uninhibited passion.
Toji finds his peak, his vision going white as wave after wave of pleasure crashes through him. He buries his face in the crook of her neck, muffling his moans of release against her skin as he pours everything he has into her. His eyes meet hers as she finally opens them, a look of vulnerability that shows the craving is mutual. His hips jolt, still pulsating inside her, prolonging their shared climax as he reaches up to clutch her hair in his fingers, pulling her mouth against his, forcing her into a nasty kiss. He wasn’t planning for her to go anywhere, and she wasn’t planning on going anywhere. He was gonna fuck her as many times as she wanted it, adore her as many times as she needed it—she was his. And so he did. 
Again, again, and again. 
1K notes · View notes
pucksandpower · 1 year ago
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Changing Lanes
Charles Leclerc x Horner!Reader
Summary: Charles Leclerc always thought he would spend the rest of his career racing in red. But you make him see that he deserves better than false promises and unrequited love
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“Took you long enough,” you say, lounging casually on the small leather couch in Charles’ driver’s room, your fingertips tracing intricate patterns on the cushion beside you.
Charles raises an eyebrow, letting out a dry laugh as he kicks off his shoes. “Every single time I see you, Y/N, you always have something to say.”
You linger on him. “Is it my fault you had to chat with the entire paddock before coming here?”
He smirks, crossing the room. “It’s called being polite. Something you could learn from.”
“Polite?” You scoff, feigning innocence. “Oh, like how Ferrari celebrated that P3 like it was a win? That kind of polite?”
Charles stiffens but he keeps his cool. “We take what we can get.”
You tilt your head, eyes narrowing. “Starting on pole and settling for P3? Charles, you deserve better.”
“I know,” he sighs, avoiding your gaze. “But this is racing. Sometimes it just doesn’t go your way.”
You lean in closer, your voice dropping an octave. “It could, though. If you were with a team that actually valued you, that gave you a car worthy of your talent.”
He looks up, meeting your gaze with a challenge. “You mean Red Bull?”
A coy smile plays on your lips. “It’s not a secret that Dad wants you. And imagine … you, in a competitive car, and me, right by your side as your race engineer.”
Charles’ eyes dart to your lips then back up to your eyes. “Tempting,” he murmurs, leaning in just a fraction closer. “But is this for the team or for you?”
“Can’t it be both?” You whisper back.
His breath hitches and he pulls back slightly. “This isn’t just about racing, is it?”
You hesitate. “I see how they treat you. How they let you down time and time again. But with us ... with me ... it would be different.”
He looks conflicted. “It’s not that simple.”
“Why not?” You press. “With Red Bull, you’d have support, a competitive car, and … me.”
Charles sighs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not just about what happens on track. It’s about the politics, the contracts, the media ... it’s all complicated.”
“You make it sound like an impossible puzzle,” you say, tracing circles on his wrist. You gaze locks with his, trying to convey everything you feel.
“It might be.”
You lean in, lips just inches from his. “Then let’s solve it together.”
He hesitates, searching your eyes. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N.”
You smirk, confidence oozing from every pore. “Isn’t that what racing’s all about?”
Charles chuckles softly, the tension in the room slowly melting away. “You always have an answer for everything.”
“It’s the Horner in me,” you retort with a smug smile. “Besides, aren’t you tired of being just another pawn in Ferrari’s game?”
“It’s not easy. To just switch teams, to give up on something you’ve worked for your entire life.”
You reach up, tucking a stray lock of hair behind his ear. “Who says you’re giving up? You’d be making a choice. A choice to be somewhere you’re valued. Somewhere you have a real shot at the championship. With people who truly care about you and actions that reflect that.”
He closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. “It’s not just about the racing. There are so many other factors.”
“Like what?”
He opens his eyes, meeting yours. “Like us.”
You blink, taken aback. “What do you mean?”
“If I come to Red Bull … if I work with you … it changes everything. Our relationship. Our dynamic. Everything.”
You take a moment, absorbing his words. “We can handle it. We’re strong enough.”
He gives you a sad smile. “I wish I had your confidence.”
You cup his cheek, your thumb stroking his skin. “You have me. Together, we can face anything.”
Charles looks at you for a long moment, his emotions raw and exposed. Finally, he speaks. “I’ll think about it. But whatever I decide … know that it’s not just about racing. I refuse to give you up.”
“Just promise me one thing.”
He raises an eyebrow. “What?”
You lean in, your lips brushing his ear. “Never settle for less than you deserve.”
He smiles, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. “Same goes for you, Y/N Horner.”
***
“I still can’t believe they forgot to remove the radiator blank,” you murmur, your fingers softly tracing patterns on Charles’ bare chest as he lies next to you in his São Paulo hotel. The dim light from the bedside lamp paints soft shadows on his face, emphasizing the frustration in his eyes.
Charles sighs heavily, turning his head to look at you. “Neither can I. Another race, another issue. I don’t even know why I’m surprised anymore.”
You lean in closer, lips brushing against his ear. “You don’t deserve this, Charles. You’re better than this. Better than them.”
He chuckles humorlessly, eyes closing. “It seems like it’s one thing after another.”
“Come to Red Bull,” you whisper, fingertips dancing down his arm. “You know it’s the right move.”
He opens his eyes, looking deep into yours. “Y/N, we talked about this.”
You press a gentle kiss on his jaw, speaking against his skin. “Hear me out. If McLaren overtakes Ferrari in the Constructors’ standings, you can activate your exit clause. You could leave them, Charles.”
Charles swallows hard, feeling the warmth of your breath on his neck. “And if they don’t?”
“Then we’ll buy you out,” you say confidently, trailing kisses down his collarbone. “Dad’s already spoken about it. We want you. I want you.”
Charles’ breath catches as your hands explore his torso but he tries to focus. “Equal status with Max?”
“Of course,” you assure him, pressing your body flush against his. “You and Max, racing side by side. Just think of the possibilities.”
He groans, both from your touch and the tempting offer. “A car designed by Adrian Newey ...”
You nod, “With plenty of oversteer, just how you like it. No more one-sided compromises.”
He laughs softly. “You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”
You smirk, lips hovering over his. “Always. And instead of Xavi, you’d hear my voice on the other end of the radio, guiding you, supporting you.”
Charles captures your lips with his, deepening the kiss before pulling back. “You’re making it very hard to think.”
“That’s the point,” you whisper with a playful grin, your hands tugging at his waistband.
He bites his lip, trying to resist your charms. “But Y/N ... it’s not just about the racing. It’s ... it’s us. What happens to us?”
You cup his cheek, gazing deep into his eyes. “We fight together, we win together. Every podium, every championship, we celebrate together.”
He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. “You make it sound so perfect.”
“It can be,” you promise, pressing soft kisses on his eyelids. “With Red Bull, you’d have everything you’ve ever dreamed of. And me.”
Charles smiles, caressing your cheek. “You’re very persuasive, you know?”
You grin. “It’s one of my many talents.”
He chuckles, capturing your lips once more. “I’ll think about it.”
“Whatever you decide, I’ll still be by your side.”
He smiles, pulling you closer. “I know. And that’s what makes this decision so hard.”
***
“Absolutely unbelievable,” your father mutters, watching the replay of Ferrari’s disastrous double stack. “You would think they’ve never done a pit stop before.”
You nod, equally shocked. But your attention shifts as the familiar figure of your favorite Monegasque storms into the Red Bull garage, his helmet still on and visor obscuring his face. You can feel the fury emanating from him.
“Charles?” You question hesitantly.
He doesn’t respond to you but instead turns to your father, “Christian, can we talk? Now. Somewhere private.”
Christian looks taken aback by the intensity in Charles’ voice but nods. “Of course.”
Charles glances at you. “You too, Y/N. Please.”
You follow, the weight of the moment heavy on your shoulders. Once inside the small office, Charles finally removes his helmet, revealing eyes red from restrained tears. He takes a moment, collecting himself before he speaks.
“I can’t do this anymore,” Charles exhales. “Every single time I think they’ve hit rock bottom, they find a new low. Today was the last straw.”
You approach him, gently placing a hand on his arm. “Charles, I’m so sorry.”
Your father is equally sympathetic. “That was hard to watch. I can’t even imagine what it felt like.”
Charles closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. “It’s not just today. It’s everything. I gave them everything. I wanted to win with them. For my father. For Jules.”
You swallow hard, emotions swirling. “They would be so incredibly proud of you. No matter what.”
He blinks back tears, voice strained. “I wanted to drive that red car to the top for them. But I can’t keep sacrificing myself for a team that clearly does not value me in return.”
Your father speaks up, “Charles, if you’re thinking of a change ... Red Bull is ready to welcome you with open arms.”
Charles looks up, locking eyes with him. “I know. And as much as Ferrari has been my dream, my home, I can’t do this anymore. I want to be with a team that values me. I want to join Red Bull.”
You’re taken aback by his sudden declaration but the look in his eyes tells you that he’s made up his mind. “Charles,” you whisper, stepping closer. “Are you absolutely sure?”
“It’s hard,” he admits. “But this is where my heart is telling me to go.”
Your father gives the two of you a moment, leaving the office to give you privacy.
Charles takes a shaky breath, pulling you close. “I never imagined leaving Ferrari. But after everything, I know it’s the right decision.”
You wrap your arms around him, resting your forehead against his. “They will be so proud of you, Charles. No matter what colors you wear or what car you drive.”
He smiles weakly. “Thank you. I really needed to hear that.”
You pull back slightly, searching his eyes. “This is a big step. I don’t want you to regret anything. Are you still sure?”
He nods, determination in his gaze. “More than I’ve ever been.”
You smile, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Then welcome to Red Bull.”
***
“I have to tell Ferrari,” Charles straightens, determination evident in his eyes. “I just need to get it over with. Will you come with me?”
“Of course.“
Charles grabs your hand, pulling you towards his driver’s room. “Wait here,” he says, going in and returning moments later with his Ferrari jacket. He places it over your Red Bull team polo, attempting to keep your allegiance concealed for now. You both then proceed to the debrief room where the Ferrari team is waiting.
Fred Vasseur begins his speech the moment you both enter, “This wasn’t how we wanted to end the year but looking ahead to next season—”
Charles cuts him off, “Actually, there won’t be a next season. Not for me.”
The room falls into a tense silence, all eyes on the driver who has given them his heart and soul.
“What do you mean?”
Charles takes a deep breath, “I’ve decided to leave Ferrari.”
Gasps fill the room. Fred’s eyes land on you, finally noticing the Red Bull logo peeking out from under the jacket you’re borrowing. “And you bring her, of all people, here to tell us this?”
Charles squares his shoulders. “Y/N is here because I asked her to be. This decision is mine and mine alone.”
Xavi stands up, “After everything we’ve done for you! This is how you repay us?”
You can’t hold back any longer. “Everything you’ve done? You mean the countless strategy mistakes, the endless car issues, the complete lack of support?”
Another team member cuts in, “This is not your place, Y/N!”
“It is today,” you retort. “I’m here to support my new driver.”
Charles’ voice shakes but he speaks with conviction, “I gave everything for this team. I bled Ferrari red. But I can’t keep doing this. Not when it’s clear that my effort and commitment is not matched in return.”
Fred’s voice softens. “Charles, we’ve had our challenges but we can overcome them together.”
Charles shakes his head, tears threatening to spill. “I’ve made up my mind. I’m joining Red Bull. My manager will send over the necessary legal paperwork as soon as possible.”
The room is filled with murmurs, disbelief evident on every face. Charles takes one last look around, his eyes filled with pain, and turns to leave.
You follow closely, feeling the weight of every step as you exit the debrief room.
The second you’re around the corner, Charles breaks down. He rests his forehead against the wall, tears rolling down his face silently. “I didn’t ... I didn’t think it would hurt this much.”
You pull him close and try to find the right words. “It was never going to be easy. But you did what you had to. For yourself. For your future.”
He turns to look at you, eyes red-rimmed but determined. “I just wanted to make them proud.”
You cup his cheek, wiping away a tear with your thumb. “They would be proud of you. Not for the badge you wear or the car you drive but for the man you’ve become.”
Charles takes a shaky breath, pulling you into a tight embrace. The two of you stand there for a moment, finding solace in each other’s presence.
When he finally pulls away, he manages a weak smile. “Thank you. For standing by me.”
You squeeze his hand. “Always.”
***
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***
Charles stands in front of the massive two-story trophy wall at the Red Bull Racing factory in Milton Keynes, eyes wide with wonder. “Ferrari would never do something so ... gaudy.”
You smirk, sidling up next to him. “And yet, you love it.”
“I do,” he laughs. “It’s … different.”
You lean in, whispering conspiratorially, “Well, Ferrari hasn’t had all that much to exhibit in the last two decades. Not for lack of trying from the drivers, of course.”
He playfully nudges you with his elbow, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Cheeky.”
The two of you walk further into the factory. “So,” Charles draws out, “I was wondering if you could recommend a good real estate agent in the area.”
You raise an eyebrow in confusion. “Why would you need an agent when I have a perfectly good apartment we can share?”
“Really? Are you sure? I just … I wasn’t sure if you would want that and I don’t want to pressure you.”
You roll your eyes affectionately. “Of course I do, Charles. It’s not even a question.”
He smiles, the weight of the decision to move seeming a little lighter now. “Thank you.”
You wink, taking his hand. “Come on, let me show you around.”
As you guide him through the factory, he’s like a kid in a candy store, eyes wide with wonder and curiosity. “This place is incredible,” he murmurs, running a hand along a piece of machinery.
You grin, pulling him towards the simulator room. “Wait until you see this.”
He steps inside, eyes immediately drawn to the impressive simulator setup. “Wow.”
You gesture for him to sit down, watching as he takes a seat, adjusting the settings. “Ready for your first sim run in the RB20?”
He nods eagerly, “Let’s do it.”
As he starts the simulation, you watch closely, monitoring the data and providing feedback. The two of you work seamlessly together, the connection between race engineer and driver already forming and growing.
After several runs, Charles steps out of the simulator, a huge grin on his face. “That was incredible! The car feels amazing.”
You smile. “I’m glad you think so. The team has put a lot of work into it.”
He pulls you into a hug, burying his face in your hair. “I can’t wait to get on track with you on the other side of the radio.”
You pull back, looking into his eyes. “Me too. We’re going to do great things together. I know it.”
He nods. “I know we will too.”
***
“I have to admit,” Charles says, eyes scanning the paddock, “I’m thankful that Mercedes and McLaren are between our motorhome and Ferrari’s. Makes things less ... awkward.”
You glance towards the distant red of the mobile Ferrari building, understanding the sentiment. “Must be weird being so close and yet so far.”
He nods, a hint of melancholy in his gaze as he looks at the place he called home for so long. “It’s bittersweet.”
Pulling him from his thoughts, you nudge him playfully. “Come on, Mr. Pole-Sitter. We have a race to prep for.”
Charles smirks, playfully rolling his eyes. “Always so professional, Miss Horner.”
You grin. “Only when it counts.”
The atmosphere in the Red Bull garage is electric. Mechanics and engineers hustle around, getting everything ready. The RB20 sits gleaming, waiting for its moment to shine.
Charles adjusts his gloves, taking a deep breath. “Feels different,” he admits, looking at you. “Being here, in this car, with this team. But a good kind of different.”
You lean in, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “You’ve got this. It’s just another race.”
He smiles. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one in the hot seat.”
“True, but I’ll be with you every step of the way. Just listen to my voice and trust me.”
“I always do.”
As he gets into the car, you lean in closer to his helmet, your lips touching it’s hard shell. “And Charles? Stay safe out there.”
He looks at you and winks. “I’ll come back to you.”
The race begins with a burst of energy. Charles takes off from pole, holding his position as the field jockeys for placement behind him.
“Good start,” you say through the radio, your voice calm and composed. “Keep it steady.”
“Copy.”
The race is intense, with Charles and Max battling for the lead, their cars dancing on the edge of perfection. The radio chatter between the two of you flows naturally, filled with technical details, strategy adjustments, and the occasional personal quip.
“Feeling the heat from Max?” You tease after a particularly close call between the two Red Bulls.
Charles laughs breathlessly. “Just keeping things interesting for the fans.”
The race continues at a blistering pace, with Charles and Max pushing each other to the limit. But through it all, Charles remains in the lead, with you guiding him from the pit wall.
“Final lap,” you inform. “Bring it home.”
He nods, pushing the car to its limit. The cheers of the crowd grow louder as he crosses the finish line, securing his first victory with Red Bull.
“Amazing job, Charles! I knew you could do it!”
He lets out a whoop of joy. “Yes! Thank you, team. Thank you, Y/N. I couldn’t have done it without you all.”
The two of you celebrate the victory, and as the rose water sprays and the cheers of the crowd fill the air, you know that this is just the beginning of an incredible journey together.
***
“You’re sure about the medium tyres, Y/N?” Charles asks nervously as he looks at the other cars lining up. “Everyone else is starting on softs.”
You nod confidently, tapping the race strategy on your clipboard. “Yes. The upside of using the mediums is it gives us flexibility. We can extend our first stint if needed, especially with possible rain on the forecast. While everyone else has to pit early for hards and then again for inters when the rain starts, we’ll only have to pit once. Trust me.”
He inhales deeply, trying to quell the unease bubbling inside. “I do trust you. It’s just ... Ferrari ... the strategies there ...”
“I know,” you interrupt softly, understanding the trauma and distrust years with Ferrari had instilled in him. “But this isn’t Ferrari. It’s Red Bull and we work differently. I’ve got your back.”
“Alright,” he looks into your eyes, finding assurance and conviction there, “let’s do this.”
The race begins, and Charles holds his ground well on the medium tyres, though the drivers running softs initially show quicker pace. But as predicted, the clouds soon darken and the threat of rain becomes increasingly evident.
“Stay focused,” you guide through the radio. “Remember the plan.”
He pushes on, expertly handling the streets of Monaco. The cars around him begin to lose grip and one by one they dive into the pits for hard tyres.
Charles keeps lapping. He moves up the order.
“You’re doing great,” you encourage. “Stick to the plan. We’re right on schedule.”
However, as the first raindrops begin to fall, panic sets in among the other teams on the grid. Those who just pitted for hard tyres are forced to pit again for intermediate tyres, losing precious time.
“Now,” you command, “Box this lap.”
He follows your instruction, driving into the pits, and with a flawless stop by his Red Bull crew, re-emerges in the lead.
The rain continues but Charles navigates the treacherous streets of Monaco expertly, maintaining his lead. When the chequered flag waves, it’s Charles who crosses the line first and finally claims victory at his home Grand Prix.
Tears of joy and relief pour from Charles’ eyes as he takes in the moment. “Thank you,” he says over the radio, voice choked with emotion. “I can’t believe it. We did it in Monaco!”
You smile, tears in your own eyes. “We did. I told you to trust me, didn’t I?”
He laughs, the sound full of pure joy. “You did. And I’m so glad I did. Thank you for everything.”
As he steps out of the car and jumps on its nose, arms spread wide, the crowd roars in approval, their prince finally crowned in his home race.
Then he rushes to the barriers and jumps into the cheering crowd of dark blue waiting for him. When his sweaty lips find yours surrounded by the celebrating Red Bull team, you take a moment to whisper a promise, “This is just the beginning. It will only get better from here.”
***
The season flies by in a blur of champagne showers. Heading into the Italian Grand Prix, Charles find himself leading the Drivers’ Championship with Max nipping at his heels.
“I’m not sure I can do this,” Charles confesses, staring out at the Autodromo Nazionale Monza. “This was home. I don’t know how they will react now that I’m no longer wearing red.”
You rest a reassuring hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “Many fans support the driver, not just the color he wears.”
He takes a deep breath and looks over the crowd. “The Tifosi are different. They bleed Ferrari red. I’m afraid they will see me only as a traitor.”
“You gave them your all,” you counter. “They’ve seen the struggles. They know why you left. They understand. Trust in them and in yourself.”
As the two of you make your way towards the paddock, the familiar chorus of cheers fills the air. But instead of the jeers and boos he feared, a chant begins to rise among the crowd of red: “Charles! Charles! Charles!”
Charles stops in his tracks. “They’re ... they’re cheering for me.”
You nod, a smile playing on your lips. “Told you.”
He’s soon swarmed by a group of fans, all clamoring for autographs, photos, and just a moment of his time. It’s clear that the bond between Charles and the Tifosi remains unbroken.
An older fan steps forward, his Ferrari cap worn with age. “You are still Il Predestinato. We wish it ended differently but we have eyes. We watched the races. We know why you left. No matter what team you drive for, you always have our hearts.”
Charles blinks back tears, deeply touched. “Grazie,” he whispers and claps the fan’s weathered hands in thanks.
Another fan, a young girl with a homemade sign that reads Once a Tifosi, Always a Tifosi, shyly approaches. “We still love you, Charles,” she says.
He kneels down to give her a gentle hug. “Thank you,” he murmurs, taking off his Red Bull cap and placing it on her head.
As the day goes on, the support from the Tifosi only grows. They cheer for him during practice, during qualifying, and every time he appears in front of the stands.
It’s clear that the bond between Charles and the Tifosi is as strong as ever.
That evening, as the two of you sit in the garage looking over data, Charles reflects on his day. “I was so afraid,” he admits. “Afraid of being rejected, of losing their love. But today ... today was incredible.”
You close the analytics. “The Tifosi love you. Not because of the car you drive or the colors you wear but because of who you are. Just like I do.”
He nods slowly. “It’s overwhelming. Monza has always been special to me. To feel this level of love and support ... it’s more than I ever expected.”
You lean closer, resting your head on his shoulder. “They see your passion. They see how much you give on and off the track. Anyone who does not love and respect you for that needs to reconsider.”
He exhales slowly, “I just ... I wanted to make them proud, to win for them in red and bring glory back to Maranello. But knowing they still support me no matter what ... it means everything.”
You look up into his eyes. “And they always will. Because they know you always gave and will continue to give your best. They love you because they are loved in return.”
He laughs, pulling you into a tight hug. “Thank you,” he murmurs into your hair. “For always being my rock, especially in moments like these.”
“Now let’s go out there tomorrow and win.”
***
“Vegas, baby!” Charles shouts, swinging an arm around your shoulders, both of you holding champagne glasses that have been refilled one too many times.
You giggle, distinctly feeling all of the alcohol you’ve consumed. “We won! We did it!”
Charles laughs, pulling you closer. “We did! And do you know what people do when they’re in love and win in Vegas?”
You think about it for a moment, a mischievous glint appearing in your eyes. “Get ... married?”
Charles nods enthusiastically. “Exactly! Y/N Horner, will you marry me tonight?”
You don’t hesitate, “Hell yes!”
The two of you, in your drunken stupor, begin your mission to find a wedding chapel. However, before you can get very far, Max spots you and quickly catches on to what you’re planning.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Max exclaims, grabbing Charles by the shoulder. “Where do you think you’re going with Y/N?”
Charles replies with a sloppy grin, “To make her Mrs. Leclerc!”
Max bursts into laughter, trying to play the voice of reason. “Mate, as much fun as that sounds, I think you might want to sleep on that idea.”
But you’re not having it. “No, Max! We’re in love and it’s Vegas. We’re doing it!”
Before the conversation can escalate further, your father joins the fray, looking both amused and concerned. “What on earth is going on here?”
Max chuckles, “Your daughter and Charles here have some ... ambitious plans for the evening.”
You pout and stumble slightly, “Daddy, we want to get married! Right now!”
Your father’s eyebrows shoot up. “Married? Tonight? Seriously?”
Charles nods with absolute seriousness, though his precarious swaying contradicts his tone. “Christian, I love your daughter. And we won. In Vegas. So ... wedding?”
Your father places a firm hand on his driver’s shoulder. “Listen, Charles, I have no doubt about your feelings for Y/N. But my baby girl deserves the world. When and if you ever decide to propose, I expect you to get down on one knee, stone-cold sober, and ask her properly.”
Charles blinks, processing the words. “But ... Vegas?”
You laugh and go to hug your father, almost falling over in the process. “He’s right. Let’s just enjoy tonight. And if we still feel like getting married in the morning, we can discuss it then.”
Max smirks, “Trust me, you’ll thank us in the morning. If you can even remember this conversation, that is.”
***
“Charles,” you begin, your voice echoing in his helmet, “The team has made the call. You and Max are free to race. No team orders.”
There’s a pause on the other end. “Understood. May the best man win.”
The tension in the garage skyrockets as soon as the lights go out. It’s evident that this is going to be an epic battle from the very first turn. Max and Charles swap places multiple times, pushing their cars to the very edge of their limits.
“Breathe,” you remind him calmly as the laps go by, “Don’t loose sight of the race as a whole. There’s a championship at stake.”
The entire race is a blur of overtakes, pit strategies, and nail-biting moments. The two Red Bull cars battle wheel-to-wheel lap after lap. One side of the garage against the other.
Coming into the final laps, Charles is right on Max’s tail — the championship hanging in the balance between them.
You know there’s not much you can do to guide him anymore … it’s all up to Charles.
“Last lap,” you try to sound composed despite the pounding of your heart. “You can do this.”
The cheers and gasps of the crowd are deafening as Charles makes his move, taking the inside line and overtaking Max on the penultimate turn.
“Push now! Just a few more corners.”
As Charles crosses the finish line, the enormity of the moment crashes over both of you.
“Charles Leclerc,” you scream over the radio as tears stream down your face, “you are the World Champion!”
“Yeeeesssss! Yes! Yes! I ... I can’t believe it. This is ... thank you, everyone. To the entire Red Bull team, you’ve given me the chance to chase and achieve my dreams. To my friends, my family, to every single person who’s been by my side, believed in me, and supported me … thank you. And Y/N, you’ve been my rock and my oxygen. Without you, this wouldn’t have been possible. Thank you! Thank you. Thank you so much!”
***
“Whew! That was a lot of rose water!” Charles laughs, wiping the bubbly liquid from his eyes.
You chuckle and try to wring out your hair. “You didn’t have to drench me, you know!”
Charles grins cheekily. “It’s a special occasion, after all. Both of us on this podium? It’s a dream!”
Then suddenly, he turns serious and signals to his brother in the crowd below, who throws him a small leather box. Charles catches it and promptly lowers himself down on one knee in front of you, making the crowd fall into a stunned silence.
“I tried this in Vegas,” he starts with a laugh, “But I might have been too drunk and missed a few pretty important steps.”
Charles takes a deep breath and his eyes lock onto yours, saying everything that words would never be sufficient to. “Y/N, being on this podium with you, winning the World Championship, it’s the pinnacle of my career. But what we have ... it’s the pinnacle of my life. I can’t imagine going on this journey with anyone else, facing the highs, the lows, the in-betweens. Will you marry me?”
Tears flow steadily down your cheeks and you nod with a fervor that would make bobbleheads jealous, “Yes! There’s no one else I’d want to spend forever with.”
The crowd erupts into cheers and applause, the deafening roar echoing around the Yas Marina Circuit. Max gives a loud whistle, his face lit up with a big grin next to you on the podium stage.
Charles rises to his feet and pulls you close, attacking your lips as the crowd goes wild.
“Promise me we won’t head to a chapel right after this race?” You joke, sniffling and giggling at the same time.
Charles laughs, looking slightly sheepish. “I promise, mainly because I’m too young to die and your father would definitely kill me if I even thought about pulling the stunt we tried in Vegas again. You deserve a fairytale wedding.”
You press your face against his chest, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat as fireworks explode overhead. “All I need for my fairytale is you.”
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starlightkyeom · 5 months ago
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building blocks | yjh (teaser)
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(agreeing to be the teaching assistant is the last thing you want in a semester where you're already swamped with work. but, you need a letter of recommendation from the professor and you're out of other options. enter jeonghan, the menace who signs up for the class seemingly on a whim and disrupts your entire routine.)
pairing: master's student!jeonghan x TA!f!reader genre: university!au, strangers to ?? | fluff, some angst, smut rating: explicit, minors DNI (for the full fic) word count: 842 for the teaser (est. 12-14k) warnings: none for the teaser (full fic: smut, drinking, eating, etc.) full fic: september 13th!
a/n: i wanted to drop a teaser of my fic for the TA collab hosted by the amazing @camandemstudios. those two have been working so hard on this and i can't wait to read all the fics. but go easy on me because i know next to nothing about structural engineering. credit to @caelesjjk for this banner, it's so amazing 🥰
join my taglist here or leave a comment to be tagged in the full fic!
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Your entire academic (and professional, for that matter) career has been a battle. A fight to be taken seriously. A fight to get the right classes. A fight to make the right connections. A fight for every inch that you’ve gotten. There are times that you wonder if it’s all worth it, wonder if anything should be as hard as this. But, all you’ve ever wanted was to be an engineer. To be able to leave your mark in some sort of meaningful way, even if that’s also a little conceited. It’s all you want and you’re so close to getting some much needed room to breathe. 
Except…
You have to make it through one last semester of this damn Master’s program. You had been able to find a sponsor to allow you to commit to a final semester full time, with only part time research work. That’ll put you in a good position to carry on for your Ph.D, with your dissertation topic already picked and funded. Things had been going entirely too smoothly, in hindsight. You should have known. Everything about your application to the upcoming program is perfect. Except for the final recommendation. And, of course, the professor to give that recommendation won’t just give it to you to recognize the years you’ve put into this. No. He implies that there’s something he needs from you.
Nothing really awful, in the grand scheme of things. Not for someone that does want to return as a lecturer at some point down the road. It’s just that you didn’t really want to be forced into a teaching assistant position for Professor Choi’s introductory structural engineering course. It’s the course that weeds out who’s actually going to carry on with the civil engineer branch of the Master’s program from those who may switch out to something that better suits them. Which, again, isn’t a huge deal, except that you remember how burnt out the TA looked from when you took the course and it’s the last thing you need during your last semester. It’s also hard to know that some portion of your future hinges on doing this. It’s also hard to forget another friend of yours admitting Professor Choi had given him a recommendation without the hoops.
Whatever.
What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger and all that. 
So you schedule your regular meetings with the professor, make a separate email folder for all course related communication, jot down the important dates, and figure out which lessons you have to help plan. First up is going to be the introductory class. Professor Choi comes in and introduces himself while you distribute the syllabus, an odd task when everything is available online through the portal, but he likes things in hard copy. Once he’s done his introduction, he leaves the rest of the first class to you, as he had with the TA in your course during your first semester. For a moment, you consider pointing out that this is a Master’s level course and you don’t really need to do the typical introductions. Most of these people have busy lives and, even though they’ll have to work together on projects, can manage without syllabus week. But, Choi is old school and you know it. You also need his letter, so what’s the point in trying to change his system? You’re not here to do anything other than fill a spot that he was having trouble filling, get your letter, and go. 
When you scan the roster before the first day, nobody particularly sticks out. There are a couple of relatively familiar names, though you’re not sure you can place faces to them, but most of the students seem to be in their first semester of the program. It only takes getting to the introductions for someone in the course to stick out.
“Well, I’ve always been good at building Legos. I figure, how different can it really be?” one student answers.
It takes everything in you to school your face back into a politely interested expression when the rest of the class bursts out laughing. Your initial reaction had been incredulity. Surely he couldn’t be serious. There’s no way someone just wandered into this program because he liked building Legos. The laughter from the rest of the class dies down and you keep your attention on him.
“Why did you really join the program?” you ask. That’s what every student was supposed to be sharing. A problem for this student, apparently.
“That is why I joined,” he says with an infuriating smirk. 
“What did you say your name was?” you ask.
“Jeonghan,” he answers without anything else.
You consult the roster in front of you and put a star by his name. This is someone you know you’re going to have to keep an eye on. 
“Did I get a star already?” he prompts, earning another few chuckles from his classmates.
“Something like that,” you say and then turn to the person next to him. “And why did you join?”
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i hope you enjoyed it! and less than a week til the full fic is posted 🫣
taglist: @newjihoonie, @tinyelfperson, @dokyeomkyeom, @miriamxsworld, @hongrizon, @klecksstorys, @sunflowergyeomie, @gyuminusone, @aaniag, @straykidswhoo789, @kimseokgen, @beomesbabe, @haolistic, @vanishingboots, @babybae-shisui, @harry-the-pottypus, @okiedokrie-main, @nuttywastelandmentality, @writingbarnes, @gyuhao365, @jjin-kun, @divinityyy, @dibidibidismynameisleeknow, @jelly-n (strikethrough means can't tag)
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omagpies · 8 days ago
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Recently saw your roleswap AU and I’m loving it! I have a few things I’m curious about:
1. So by my understanding Anya failed her flight certification 8 times and PE was cheap enough to be fine with that? Did she never pass? Makes sense, I’m just kinda clarifying lol
2. Does nurse!Curly also feel like he wants to try something different in his career like in canon? Did he also not have enough savings after PE went under? Did he go to nursing school or did he also fail his entrance exams?
3. What’s Daisuke’s story in this AU? Did his mom push him to go to trade school to become a mechanic? Did he do that on his own and his mom suggested working with PE?
4. It’s so interesting to me that Anya tried E-dating after getting back to earth and seemingly got rejected based on her appearance, poor girl :( but I’m kinda wondering about Curly’s perspective on this, did he have feelings for Anya while she was E-dating and just sucked it up for her?
5. I’m kinda curious about Curly and Anya’s relationship pre-crash, was it a little bit flirty like in canon? Did Anya try to approach Curly with what Jimmy was doing or was the blackmail powerful enough for her not to say a peep to anyone?
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haha gonna answer all of these at once! but first here's something on 5 :)
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she never passed the Official Legit certification but passed what counts for it in PE (so, certified only to fly PE vessels) and kind of sees it as her last chance to make it as a pilot. still hopes to get properly certified one day, working at PE to make the money for simulator hours and exam fees
curly actually went to a med school on a football scholarship but had to drop out about two or three years in because he started prioritising studies over practice and the money got pulled. used the money he had left to switch tracks and certify as a nurse. joined PE because space travel sounded fun but is pretty bored of it because he doesn't get to do much on a regular haul. he isn't quite as existential in this regard as canon curly because working in a people-oriented nurturing profession actually makes him feel useful, he just wishes he could be more useful ya kno? has enough savings to be able to rent a place and find a job at a hospital, so overall it all kinda works out for him if you don't count all the horrors
i think in this au daisuke's mother actually pushed him to intern as a mechanic a few years earlier than in canon, which is how he met swansea (pilot with engineering background) and got inspired enough to go into trade school. by the time the events of the au begin he is a certified mechanic though not with a lot of experience :"3
curly has had the biggest fattest crush on anya almost the entire time of knowing her (i feel like he kinda spawns in already in love with anya), so her E-dating phase is kinda rough on him (like, Very rough; mans full on wasting away from his heart getting broken in tiny ways a hundred times a day), but he is king of denying himself and putting others first so he does his best to be A Good And Supportive Roommate about it. he even tries to date other people too! but with not nearly as much gusto and it never goes far. he is too whipped
there was definitely Something. i'll expand on it a bit more in a later ask i got about captain anya, but the tldr is that she goes to great pains to Act Professional and curly is never in a million years going to confess anything. and then jimmy's arrival blows it all up and any kind of romance plummets down everyone's lists of priorities. and anya never tells curly anything -- this is her problem to deal with, and with him being jimmy's friend there is a tiny part of her that is afraid of not being believed even though she overall thinks he's a good guy :")
anya writes all kinds of things, but it's all fiction. she dabbles in poetry, but her two main points of focus in prose are a) long meandering stream of consciousness type of pieces that span generations and have very convoluted plots and interpersonal relations (think woolf's waves meets one hundred years of solitude), inspired largely by the time she had to lie there and do little more than drift in and out of delirium and think, and b) shameless smut that starts out as your run of the mill romance and suddenly changes genres halfway through (funny how life can just Change all at once huh). she never really gains a Massive audience but does have a considerable number of dedicated fans of both categories
(more roleswap au)
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skzhocomments · 1 month ago
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143 - being stuck at the office during Christmas with your asshole boss/coworker AU - Seungmin (Stray Kids)
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General Masterlist
Request me a story
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Wattpad | AO3
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Writing Prompt 143 - being stuck at the office during Christmas with your asshole boss/coworker AU - Seungmin
4.7k words
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“Hey, sweetie!” Mia hears as soon as she picks up the phone, putting it between her ear and her left shoulder as she’s skimming through a million files at once.
“Hi, mom!” She replies, her mother’s voice bringing a soft smile to her lips. She misses her, and home, and the life she had before moving to the big city and struggling to make ends meet while trying to make a name for herself in the cruel world of the law.
Mia’s been working as a paralegal ever since she finished law school, as she decided it would be a good idea to get some experience with working on actual cases before taking the bar exam to become a lawyer. She wasn’t entirely sure of which career path she would take after law school, so getting certified for this seemed like a good idea.
One year later after working for various small lawyers, she landed a job at a big, prestigious firm and got assigned to be the assistant of one of the greatest lawyers of their firm – who apparently never got along with anyone and would fire them on the spot.
The firm was desperate, because Kim Seungmin is their strongest asset, he rarely loses cases, if ever, and he’s such a perfectionist, there’s simply no arguing with him. The moment he steps into the court room, he dominates it. Every person who’s worked with or against him respects him, and getting such a reputation is close to impossible in such a big city.
In other words, Kim Seungmin is exactly what Mia wants to become.
“How are you, baby? Have you been good this year? Will Santa come with presents or with coal tomorrow?” Her mother asks, excitement audible in her voice, and Mia lets out a chuckle.
“I don’t know! At this rate, Santa can come with whatever he wants, he won’t find anyone home.” She laughs slightly, a soft sigh making its way past her lips.
“Don’t tell me, are you still at work?” Her mother asks almost accusatory, and Mia can clearly picture the frown on her face and the deep lines on her forehead, partly because of her age, but mostly because of her certainly repulsed expression.
“Yeah, had to work on this big case…”
“You’re not even a lawyer yet! Why do you have to work during the holidays? Your asshole boss should do the hard work instead!” Her mother whines, and Mia knows that once she starts, she will never finish. “That’s why I keep telling you to get married and let a man take care of you! You never listen to me!”
“As much as I love you, I would never be able to endure that.” Mia laughs, and as soon as the words leave her lips, she hears her mother tut.
“It’s Christmas Eve! What do you mean you are still at the office? It’s 9PM!!!”
“I know, I know, but my boss is also here, and I- oh, shit! Sorry mom, gotta go!” She ends the call immediately as she hears the small ding the door makes as soon as someone enters a correct code and it opens.
One thing about their office is that everything is very safe and computerised: door codes with facial and fingerprint recognition and cameras everywhere are only a few of the things Mia had to get used to when she started working for Mr. Kim.
Another thing she had to get used to is the fact that Kim Seungmin loathes her being on the phone with a passion.
“Were you on the phone again?” He rolls his eyes as he enters the office – his. Mia only has a small desk in the corner of it since she’s helping him out with all his cases.
“Sorry, Mr. Kim. It’s Christmas, as you might be aware, and my mother called me.” She lets out a fake smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, and then she switches focus to the papers in front of her again.
“Oh, I thought Christmas is on the 25th, but maybe they changed the calendar while I was too busy keeping people out of jail.” Seungmin smiles back in mockery, clear annoyance in his tone.
He’s such a workaholic, which means that Mia is also worked to the bone, as she has to be there every time he is. She made the mistake of not picking up the phone one single time in a whole year because it was midnight and she was sick, and that almost got her fired, so ever since, she always makes sure to be in his office at all times when he’s actively working on a case.
When he’s working on cases, he is simply always there, cramped at his desk and reading all sorts of files, and Mia has to match. He makes sure to give her a lot to search through, and impossible deadlines, so she doesn’t even recall how many all-nighters she pulled because of him.
It's safe to say that Kim Seungmin is also exactly what she hates.
“Well, as I said, Mr Kim, I’m sorry, but some of us have families that are very insistent on not working Christmas Eve, Christmas, New Years, and any other bank holidays.” She smiles again.
“If you dislike it that much, you can go home.” Seungmin says with a shrug, but Mia doesn’t believe it one bit.
“Really?” She raises an eyebrow then looks at him, but he is already at his desk, his head buried behind mountains of papers.
“Yeah. And don’t bother coming back after the holidays.”
“There we go.” She chuckles slightly. “I was wondering when our streak would end.”
“Our streak?” This finally takes Seungmin’s eyes out of the papers.
“Yeah. You haven’t tried firing me in exactly 5 days. It’s a new personal record.” Mia replies, a smile playing on her lips, and Seungmin rolls his eyes.
“I’ve never tried firing you.”
“Uhm, yeah? You did.”
“No, I didn’t. Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Mr. Kim, you know better than anyone that in order to be a lawyer you need to get your facts straight. I’ve been working for you for exactly 350 days today, and you’ve threatened to fire me 407 times. Oh, actually, 408, including tonight.” Mia says matter-of-factly, and Seungmin can’t help but let out a chuckle and shake his head.
“Did you keep count?”
“Of course, I did. You have a reputation, you see? I needed to cover my tracks.” Mia shrugs, but Seungmin is seriously impressed. He can’t believe it. He’s still laughing.
It takes him a little bit to calm down and get his composure back, but once he does, his lips form a straight line, and he begins speaking again.
“Mia, this time I’m serious. I thought you would’ve gotten used to me in 350 days. If you truly dislike my working style, you are free to walk through that door.” He points to it, and this truly makes Mia frown.
“No… I do like your working style… It’s just that, I’m pretty sure that we’re the only ones working at this hour on Christmas Eve.” She replies, then returns her eyes to the papers thinking his words over.
Kim Seungmin is insufferable, she hates working overtime, she hates pulling all-nighters every other week, and she dislikes how bossy he is, but working so closely to him, she realised exactly 320 days ago that she really, really likes him. It took her a month to figure out his likes and dislikes, and that how he acts directly contradicts what he actually means when it comes to interpersonal relationships.
She likes a lot of things about him. Most things, actually. She likes his determination and how serious he is about his job, she likes how he’s always pushing her to do more, to learn more, and she’s truly learnt so much from him, she doubts she would have any trouble passing the bar exam and working as a lawyer in the future. He inspires her to do better, and she does; she’s been doing her best ever since she started working for him.
Kim Seungmin is the person she loathes the most, while simultaneously being the person she admires the most.
When he fails to say anything back to her, she sighs again and asks quietly, almost in a whisper, half-hoping he’d hear, half-hoping he wouldn’t.
“Do you truly want me to quit? Don’t you think that… we work well together?”
He hums softly, letting her know that he’s heard her, and then randomly stands up, going towards her small desk and snatching the file she was reading from her hands.
“You know what, Mia? You’re right. It’s Christmas Eve. Let’s go home and relax and come back on the 27th. We deserve a break.” He smiles softly, and this takes Mia by surprise completely.
“What?” She asks baffled. “Are you joking? I still have to read-”
“It can wait. The court hearing is on the 15th of January. There’s plenty of time to prepare. Let’s go and rest.” Seungmin says, his eyes soft and a small smile in the corners of his lips, and Mia’s mouth is on the floor.
Turns out she doesn’t know him as well as she thought, because she would’ve never in a million years expect this from him.
“O-okay…” She stumbles on her words confused. “Let me just pull out my charger.”
“Alright.” Seungmin walks to the hanger to grab their coats, while Mia is bending over to reach the outlet behind her desk.
She struggles for a little while, because the outlet is slightly damaged. Maintenance was supposed to come and fix this last week, but they’ve told them that it’ll happen some time after Christmas, so she ought to be very careful.
As she pulls out her charger though, a breaker trips, making the whole room go dark.
“Oh, no! Fu- I mean, damn!” She curses out loud, realising she most likely caused a power outage.
“What happened?” Seungmin sounds slightly alarmed. “Did you hurt yourself?”
“No, but I think I caused a short circuit or something! How do we turn the power back on?”
“Shit, I told maintenance a million times to come fix that stupid outlet. You could’ve hurt yourself.” Seungmin replies, grabbing his phone and turning on his flashlight. “No worries, I’ll call the maintenance emergency number. You sure you’re okay?”
He approaches her and looks at her hands, and she almost hears him let out a sigh of relief when he notices that she is, indeed, fine.
“Yeah.” She nods, taken aback once again. He is too nice. Way too nice.
Who is he and what did he do to her asshole boss?
She sees him put the phone against his ear, but no one answers.
“Damn, why isn’t anyone working?” He mumbles under his breath.
“It’s Christmas Eve.” Mia replies, and he throws her a snare.
“Let’s try the door. Should still work. Or… there must be a generator or something to turn the power back on…”
Mia nods and heads towards the door to try the knob, but unsurprisingly, it doesn’t budge. Without the security measures and fingerprints and face recognition systems, they are locked in.
“Mr. Kim, the door is not opening.”
“Alright…” He scratches his nape.
“Maybe there’s a key, or something?”
“I don’t think so… I wasn’t given any.”
“Then… I guess we’re going to spend Christmas Eve together after all.” She chuckles. “Oh! Which reminds me!”
Mia hurries to her desk before she has time to change her mind, and pulls open the first drawer, pulling out a medium sized box. She looks unsure at Seungmin, but she shakes her head slightly and closes her eyes tightly, handing him the box.
“This is a gift… for you.”
“For me?” His eyes widen. “Really? What is it?”
“Open it and see. Well, you can actually open it tomorrow, or… or actually, give it back. You’ll hate it, it’s nothing important-” She tries to snatch the box back, but with the desk between the two, Seungmin easily gets away from where her hands can reach.
He hastily opens the box and pulls out a winter scarf in multiple shades of blue and white, soft to the touch and extremely beautiful.
“Thank you, Mia. You shouldn’t have bothered, though.” He smiles, bringing it closer to his face and smelling it. It smells just like her perfume.
This brings another smile to his lips that Mia fails to see in the darkness, with his flashlight turned away from them.
“Oh… it’s alright if you don’t like it, you don’t have to accept it…” her voice falters. She is quite certain that he hates it, but she’s spent hours making it, so she’d rather take it back and wear it herself with how much money and time she invested in the whole knitting process.
“I love it.” He says, making her eyes widen.
“You do?”
“Mhm.”
“Oh…”
“Thank you, Mia. It’ll be very useful this cold winter.”
“I’m glad you like it…”
“Then…” Seungmin hesitates slightly, before placing the box down on her desk and going back to his coat, rummaging through the pockets and pulling out a small box. “I also got this for you… I mean, I just happened to see it in a store, and I remembered catching you look at it on your computer a while ago, so…”
Mia is completely shocked when he hands her the box and she opens it, revealing a Tiffany gold necklace adorned with a few small diamonds; very beautiful, very expensive. Something she’s been eyeing for months, the first present she wanted to get herself once she would pass the bar exam and become a lawyer.
“Mr. Kim… this is… this is insane! I can’t accept it. I gave you a handmade gift, and you-”
“Wait, this is handmade?!” He grabs the scarf again, his mouth falling open. “But it looks perfect! I thought you bought it from somewhere!”
“No… I just love knitting. I can’t accept this gift, it’s too expensive…” She hands him back the box, but he shakes his head and refuses to take it.
“Mia, I’m… really grateful for your work this past year. I just wanted to show my gratitude somehow, but I always end up treating you badly and acting like an asshole. I’m sorry for being hard on you. I don’t actually want you to quit, or to fire you.” He confesses, and Mia smiles.
“Alright… Thank you, Mr. Kim.”
“Seungmin.”
“What?”
“Seungmin… that’s my name.”
“Yeah, I’m aware, but-”
“I’ve been calling you Mia for months. Why do you keep calling me Mr. Kim?”
“Because I’m a professional?”
“And I’m not?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“I’m just saying, Mr. Kim feels a bit… cold?”
“Alright… uhm… Seung-Seungmin.” She stumbles on her words again, because saying his name feels very unnatural, but also very pleasant, like it just brought them closer.
She blushes to herself and is grateful for the darkness of the room for once.
“That’s better.” He smiles back. “So… I think we’re going to be stuck here until tomorrow morning. Maintenance should come at around 6AM, as they do every morning. The holidays aren’t an exception.”
“I won’t ask how you know that.” Mia says with slight mockery. She also knows it, in fact, since she’s also stayed that late, and even later, with him.
“What do you want to do?” Seungmin asks all of a sudden, and she is unsure of what to say back.
“Maybe we could… work?”
“No… we’ve worked enough. I already got out of that mood, so I don’t think I could focus back on it.”
“I’m sorry. We’re stuck here because of me…” Mia pouts.
“Don’t worry about it. However… since 6AM is very far away… should we go on the sofa and talk, or something?” He suggests, so Mia stands up and nods, and both make their way towards the large sofa in the middle of the room.
The sofa is usually reserved for resting when they both stay up late in the office and need a quick break, so it accommodates both with little issue. There would even be enough space for both to lie down, provided they would press their bodies against each other, but Mia doesn’t want to ponder too much on this thought, because it makes her heart race and her cheeks an even brighter shade of red than they already are.
“Can we maybe… turn the flashlight off?” Mia asks
“Sure.” He says without missing a beat, turning it off, and they are now in complete darkness, aside from the soft dim light coming from the large windows.
“So… what should we talk about?” Mia asks.
“Well, what about…”
And so, they begin discussing about their past cases, sharing inside jokes and laughing their hearts out. Instead of being totally work-focused, however, their discussions quickly become light-hearted, they start delving on personal matters, and soon enough, they end up discussing about their hobbies in a lot of detail. They go over books they’ve both read, theories, TV shows and films, and then about what they like to do in their scarce free time.
With each and every word they say, Mia can’t help but notice how many things they have in common. Both of them are career-driven, ambitious, have similar interests, and it feels like they could talk for ages without exhausting conversation topics.
“Mia, I’ve been meaning to tell you this for a while…” He says all of a sudden, and her breath hitches in her throat.
“What…?” She asks with hesitation.
“I think you are ready to take the bar exam. You should pursue your dreams and become a lawyer, because you’ll make a damn good one.”
Hearing his words, Mia feels her eyes water. She didn’t know how much she needed him to say it, how much she needed that validation from the one person she admires the most.
“Really?” She asks hopeful, wishing she could see his expression.
“Yes. Really. I think… I think you’re going to nail it. You should register for the next exam session. I looked it up, and it’s in February. There’s plenty of time to prepare, and I’ll also help you study if you get stuck somewhere, although I doubt you’ll need me.”
“Thank you, Seungmin…” She says, but suddenly, they feel way too far apart. She decides to launch forward and throws herself at him, her arms going around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. “This means a lot to me.”
“Mia… can you promise me something, though?” He asks, and she tries to pull back, but his arms also go around her waist, pulling her closer to him; so close, their bodies are touching. If he would lean back, she would fall right on top on him.
“Yeah…? What is it?”
“You will go and pass the bar exam, and then… will you come back to me? Not as an assistant… as a partner.”
“Are you … are you serious?” This time she succeeds in pulling back, completely taken aback. It seems he’s full of surprises tonight.
She’s heard from the very beginning that Kim Seungmin prefers working alone. He dislikes training others, or having to share his ideas, or having to be patient with someone else – and yet, he wants to keep working with her right by his side?
“I am, yes. I feel like… this is where you belong, you know? Next to me.” He says, the last part a bit quieter, but she hears it nonetheless, and her heart does its thing to beat faster again.
“Yeah… if you’ll have me, Seungmin, I will always be by your side. I’d love to work cases together, as lawyers.” She smiles, her arms still around her neck, his hands now steadily on her waist.
For some reason, it feels natural to be so close to him, to feel his hands on her body.
“Great… I just wanted to get that off my chest.” He smiles back, and she almost misses it because of the dark.
For some reason, it feels natural to lean in and press a kiss against his lips.
.
.
.
Until it doesn’t.
What the fuck did she just do?
“What the fuck did I just do?” She asks out loud, immediately separating herself from him, realising how much she’s crossed the line. She should’ve never kissed him, she should’ve never-
“Something I really, really liked.” Seungmin cuts off her train of thoughts, and the words don’t register in her head before his lips crash back against her.
And so begins a long battle fought with lips, and hot tongues, and spit, and moans melting into each other’s mouths, and his body falls on hers, her back pressed against the sofa.
His weight on hers is perfect, his kisses are perfect, he is perfect.
“This is so inappropriate” Seungmin says hastily, his breath ragged, as he separates himself from her slightly and pulls on the tight knot of his tie with one hand to loosen it.
“You are so inappropriately hot, why do you think I stick around?” Mia chuckles, her breathing matching his, as she rises her head a bit to kiss his neck.
Seungmin lets out a loud moan as he forces her back down, under him, and her hands fiddle with the buttons of his shirt as she begins undoing them one by one, as quickly as she can.
Kim Seungmin is everything she wants to be, and everything she wants to have. And she will have him tonight, on this very sofa they’ve spent countless of hours on, in this very room they’ve smiled and laughed and fought and came up with plan after plan to win their cases.
“You’re so funny, Mia, but look at you melting.” Seungmin counters, his hands moving under her shirt, his fingers dancing on her skin and stopping right on top of her bra. He is quick to move them under it, to cup her naked breasts and play softly with her nipples.
Mia thought about Seungmin many times, although she always tried to not think of him in that way, but even so, every time she imagined him like this, she never thought he’d be so gentle with her if they were to ever cross the line between professionalism and desire.
“You’re so gentle, Seungmin.” She says out loud confidently, but her skin is all prickly, and she’s already extremely stimulated from his soft touches. She doesn’t even think she could handle anything more, not when mere hours ago, she couldn’t even say his first name out loud without stuttering.
“Don’t you like it, love? Do you want more?” He asks almost tauntingly as his hands disappear from under her shirt and his mouth connects to her neck, his teeth biting into the soft and sensitive skin between her ear and her collarbones, as one of his hands travel in her pants, touching her pussy and teasing her entrance.
“Oh, God.” She rolls her head back, giving him more access as he’s spreading her wetness around.
She’s already so wet, it’s embarrassing.
“You want me so much, huh?” He whispers in her ear, putting one finger inside, and her hands instinctively move on his back pulling the fabric of his shirt.
“Let’s get undressed.” Mia says breathless.
“You have to be more polite than that if you want me to do anything.” Seungmin chuckles, making her let out a loud whine.
“Please, let’s take off our clothes! I want you so fucking bad, and you-”
“And I also want you so much more than that, Mia. I can’t even begin to tell you how many times I’ve wanted to bend you over my desk when you’d speak back to me. God, you’re so hot.” He bites her neck again, making her moan and clutch his shirt’s fabric tighter.
He inserts another finger in her, pulling them in and out and curving them upwards just right, and just as she feels close to letting go, he takes them out of her, leaving her confused and slightly dejected.
“Why-”
“Let’s get you out of these clothes, hm? Since you’ve asked so politely.”
“Fuck you.” She curses, clenching her legs just to try and get some of that friction back.
“Maybe some other night, love. Tonight’s my turn to fuck you.”
He removes his shirt that Mia has so conveniently unbuttoned earlier, then helped her out of her blouse and pants.
Laying back naked on the sofa, she looks at him expectedly, her eyes more adjusted to the dark, enough to see his perfect silhouette as he unbuttons his pants and takes out his cock. She doesn’t hesitate to spread her legs apart, and he doesn’t hesitate to compliment her for it.
“Such a good girl.” He smirks, settling between her legs and pressing his hard-on against his entrance, letting himself enter her deliberately slowly, letting her feel every inch of his cock, getting used to the stretch.
He curses once he bottoms out into her, and as he begins moving, he tries to stay buried inside, his hips only buckling in and out slightly, rubbing against her sweet spot.
“Fuck.” She curses as well, her head rolling back once more, and his lips connect instantly to her neck.
The way he’s fucking her feels so intense, so passionate, and it’s hands down the best she’s ever had. Her hands move once more to his back, fingernails digging softly in his skin as he grunts in her ear, his movements becoming faster, more erratic, but still precise enough to make her come undone in mere seconds.
She clenches around him, her legs start shaking, and her toes curl from the pleasure. Hearing her so fucked up, feeling her warm body under his, he can’t help but let out soft curses against her neck as he fucks himself into her faster and faster, until he also lets go, painting her walls white.
“You are so fucking perfect.” Mia says breathless as he pulls out of her and kisses her lips.
“And so are you. Damn, Mia, you’re just… you’re incredible.”
He kisses her once more before standing up and heading to his desk to grab some napkins, helping to clean her up before she can head to the bathroom attached to their office.
“Thank you…” She says, feeling shy all of a sudden, as if she wasn’t moaning for dear life under him minutes ago.
“Damn.” He curses again with a shake of his head. “It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. I was planning on asking you on a real date once you passed the bar exam and were no longer my subordinate.”
“You can still take me out on a date when that happens… and before, and after that as well.” She says blushing, and he caresses her head gently.
“Mhm. I will.”
“So… what does this make us?” Mia asks in a breath.
“Definitely a couple. God, this is so inappropriate.” He chuckles.
“Yeah, it is. How dare you take advantage of your power, hm?” She asks jokingly, pulling him into a kiss that he is quick to reciprocate. “Especially after you’ve been such an asshole to me for 350 whole days.”
“Technically, 351 since it’s way over midnight.” Seungmin replies with a smug grin.
“Ah, there is the asshole.”
“I’ll never stop being an asshole to you, even when we’re married and have 3 kids. Hope you know what you signed up for.” He chuckles.
“I know, I know. But that also means you have to know what you signed up for. No more working on holidays! I’d rather we go on some cute dates, maybe travel somewhere…”
“Which reminds me. Merry Christmas, Mia.” He smiles and kisses her lips again, this time softer, and tenderly.
“Merry Christmas.” She kisses him back, and she feels happiness bubbling in her chest, next to all the butterflies flying erratically in her stomach.
Turns out that Kim Seungmin is not that much of an asshole, and she has some big feelings for him, which make her more excited than ever for their future of working next to each other, for now as lawyer and assistant, and in a few months, hopefully, as equals.
~The End~
~
Hope you enjoyed this short story!
If you want to request a Oneshot, send me a number between 1-2675 and who it should be about, and I'll do my best!
Love,
Storm
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krisluxxeeempress · 7 months ago
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WHY ARE THEY MAD? PICK-A- PILE
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Pile One: Work Related
It appears as if you have people in your work environment MAD because they see you making more moves and less announcements these days. With great effort to not jump ahead energetically to read these cards inadvertently lets me know these people are mad because they’re watching you and still somehow confused as to how you are making more moves & advancing ahead of them. Imagine watching an entire movie and missing parts, forcing you to rewind. These people are watching you and confused as to how you are growing in your career, business, creative pursuits etc. The rewind energy I referenced in my example is what is happening to these people who are too busy watching you while they’re life is on hold and or  are being forced to re-do something that they missed in their life. ( Saturn RX energy)
 It feels like I’m writing in a circle, but I know that the energy I am picking up on from those people who are mad at you. You are running circles around these people while they’re watching you!  AND STILL, THEY DON’T SEE YOU COMING. For some of you, they are mad because you found a loophole or some kind of weakness or lack in your respective fields which is the key to your success. While everyone is doing, looking, sounding, thinking, producing the same shit ( excuse my language) you are giving what needs to be gave, effortlessly. It gives heavy unique vibes. Nothing is truly new under the sun, however, whatever it is your doing and or offering appears to be different and to your credit- I am confident it is different. AND THAT IS WHY THEY ARE MAD!! To my next point, you have these people mad because you don’t do what everyone else does. BOOM ! It’s amazing how everyone does, looks, acts, says, moves, smells, and thinks the same while simultaneously thinking they are still different. Like how? EXACTLY. ( questions that need answers) While everyone else is copying and using others for a come up or lifestyle, you seem to be getting it out the mud- quite literally.
You have literally or are in the process of drafting something from scratch meanwhile others just regurgitate basic information, products or “skills” for clout and money. I keep wanting to use the word appear and so there’s something extremely significant about appearances. ( heavy Sun | Leo energy) For those gold diggers out there, man or woman, they are mad at you because they play dummy games and are now being rewarded with dummy prizes. The card, “these hoes aint loyal” (Chris Brown vibes) came out which is why I feel there are some gold diggers in your energy MAD at you. They took the easy, predictable and trifling way out meanwhile you took the harder way, and you are managing to get further ahead ( or will be, this may be a prediction) This could even be the other way around where you come into whichever work| creative field and things start to manifest for you easier and quicker as opposed to those people who may have been doing it longer than you.
TRUST AND BELIEVE- THEY ARE MAD!!!!
Last card out: THEY HAVE TO STAY MAD
PERIOD.
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Pile Two: Single & Won't Mingle
I initially started this reading off with the disclaimer and then I deleted it. Then the energy switched just that fast and so with that being said- you have someone mad that you are not giving warnings, disclaimers, arguing, nagging or fighting for them to act right. This reading has two different scenarios- so stay with me. Some of you may not be single, however, you are dealing with someone who acts single. Feel me? We have all heard of those single married people. This can even be a situation where someone is mad because their ( baby mom or dad) child’s father or mother is acting single. The first card that came out was “ they are mad because you don’t want kids, anymore kids, or none of their kids”. You see why I’m conflicted? This is energy I’m picking up from a single person who refuses to deal with someone who has children. Or this is someone who has children with someone who is acting single.
It gets worse! Someone is mad you will not have sex with them. So, for those who do not have children or want anymore- this person is mad because you feel like that is their goal or simply you are not attracted to or making time for them for whatever reason. It’s messy and I am trying to explain this simply but there’s so many factors. NO WONDER THEY ARE MAD. Someone is also mad you know when, where and how to detach. Basically, someone is mad because you may feel like dealing with them would make things complicated and you are avoiding that outcome as best you can. Now that I follow suite and energetically detach, I can process this much better concluding that these people or person is mad because they want to be emotionally and or sexually involved in your life however, you see the red flags from miles and trials away. This person or people are mad because you are lit and won’t change for them and so this helps put things into better context now. With you being lit, this indicates that you are in a good place in your life whether that be financially, spiritually, emotionally or all the above.
Some of you are not heartbroken, missing anyone from the past or carrying any resentment in your heart. It’s like you have a clean slate in your life and you simply do not want to or are not ready to incorporate someone new or back into your life- & that’s fair. This person is mad because they cannot change your mind- aka manipulate you. This may even be people you don’t even know exist and when they see you, they get triggered because the energy you exude is giving “ fuck off” while simultaneously looking sexy or handsome as hell. No wonder you chose not to be involved; I literally could not think straight when my emotions were involved in the beginning of the reading. Everything was confusing and messy and in my personal experience and from observation- that’s usually what occurs when you get emotionally and sexually involved. Some of you may have strong Neptune, Chiron, Libra, Virgo, Pisces or 7th house placements. You have people mad because you are cautious, picky and unattainable if I’m honest. The next cards out are “ time is money, and you can lose it all and bounce back”. AMAZING . It’s clear a lot of you with this energy and mentality are bouncing back and have experienced that messy and confusing situation before when dealing with others.
With time is money, your energy now reminds me of Pile (1). You have redirected your focus into work related and creative outlets. Those creative outlets may now be work for you. If any of you have strong Neptune, Chiron, Leo, Sun etc. placements ( not limited to) it appears as if you are channeling your sexual aka creative energy into work or creativity. Which is another reason why they are mad especially if you resonate with Pile (1). I am proud of this pile because I can feel how much healing you’ve done. How much you’ve matured and how much wisdom you’ve gained.
On YouTube & TikTok, my “ Why Are They Mad” readings are quite popular however, usually someone is mad for petty, superficial and egotistical reasons. I can honestly say this is the first-time people are mad for VALID AND LEGITIMATE REASONS. I personally want someone to be mad that I’m focused, mature, creative, HEALED & HAPPY and have HIGHER STANDARDS. Hell yeah! This is truly what life is about and I can sense your Divinity. You are truly chosen, and you have DEMONS mad. Aw, I feel kindred spirits here… Just re-read this, the energy started off with low vibration and now (personally) I feel at peace.
WOW! Aw, I love you guys who chose this pile , spiritually I know you….
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Pile Three: Stepping on Necks
Wow, I don’t know where to start. ( 2 minutes later, SpongeBob narrator voice) You have the world, your neighbors, family, foes, haters, ex’s, pastors, teachers- EVERYBODY MAD because your career is taking off. This is profound because this pile is for those who have been the underdog. This pile is for those who have been struggling, overlooked and receiving the bare minimum in all aspects of life- until now. I am not the type of lie, exaggerate or only speak about GOOD THINGS to appease anyone. ( which is why I’m selectively liked) Believe me when I tell you that a major shift has and or is occurring in your life. The cards “ your ass is fatter, and you snapped back after the baby” came out. On the surface, this would mean some of you may have gained weight for a multitude of reasons. Especially if one was struggling emotionally and spiritually- you gained weight due to eating and laziness. Others you gained weight because you had a baby ( congratulations) however, I do not dwell on the surface and so these cards indicate for me that some of you astrologically speaking in a solar return or progressive chart you may have had your moon in Sagittarius, Jupiter in Aries or 1st house, Jupiter in Taurus or 2nd house , Sagittarius or 9th house , Cancer or 4th house, Moon in Cancer or 4th house. ( however, not limited to)
What this means is that you gained weight and you were undergoing spiritual awakenings with hardships. Life has been hard and for some of you, your body took a hit. With the card “ you snapped back after the baby”, that may be the case for those of you this applies to. For the emotional and stress eaters -you will notice that you are starting to lose weight or break the habits that encouraged weight gain. AND THAT’S WHY THEY ARE MAD!!!! It’s never about appearances but more so what’s going on underneath and for most of you, you were holding on and feeding negative energy that is now being released slowly but surely.  Some of you may have let yourself go and now you are snapping back, better than before. Of course they are mad about this!! Back to your career is taking off, some of you work in corporate while others work for themselves. Those working in corporations, you have always been at the bottom and making the bare minimum or simply never gained the respect that was deserved. Those who work for yourself, you have always been overlooked and paid very little if at all. Some of you may have had to go back into working 9-5 corporate jobs because your business was stagnant. People just did not want to support you at all which forced you to go back into “slavery”.
Nonetheless, this is turning around for you Jupiter style. ( or will be ) Astrologically speaking, check your outer planets- Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, Pluto – maybe even your progressive or solar return charts because however society treated you- this is changing. You will no longer have to ask for permission, meaning- you will have the financial comfort or freedom to live and afford the things you want/ need without assistance from anyone. In corporate, you may be promoted to a position to where others must report to you, or you no longer must report to someone- there’s more leeway granted to you. Entrepreneurs, this means exactly what it means. You do not have to ask for permission! Business will be getting better; energy levels will be restored, and you can come and go as you please. AND THAT’S WHY THEY ARE MAD! IT’S GIVING MORE FREEDOM THAT OTHER’S DO NOT HAVE AND ENJOYED TAKING FROM YOU OR WORKED HARD TO ENSURE YOU NEVER HAD.  Some of you have people mad because no message is the message. ( DAMN)
Intuitively, I feel like some of you may be moving, changing numbers, jobs, contact emails- the whole nine. Those who had access to you before, no longer will. Of course, people feel the energetic shift ( refer back to those outer planets I’ve mentioned) Those people who counted you out and delighted in believing you would never make progress or move forward- now see you in a different light. They now want to be part of your life and “assist” or “support” you whereas, before you did not have that “privilege”. And yet now you are becoming privileged. ( without them) They are mad you are educated. As far as I’m concerned, knowledge is power and you clearly are the most powerful currently, ready to wield that power. It’s all fun and games when the rabbit has the gun ( some of you may be seeing bunnies a lot lately) & THAT’S WHY THEY ARE MAD!
You are educated, which alludes to some of you being able to go back to school to get degrees or this could be simply be speaking on becoming a wiser person. This can also speak of having a skill or talent that you have mastered and are the best at it. Referring to Pile (1), you have a talent or knowledge that sets you apart which is or will be the key to your success. Lastly, people are mad that “ you ain’t with the bafoolery”. This gives me the vibe that you said you would do something ( like succeed) and you’re doing it. You are proving it. You are true to it. I said lastly, but there’s a bit more I want to cover. And that’s your energy- you will succeed and then some. It reminds me a lyric Drake said, mind you he’s a millionaire, successful and never has to work again but in his lyrics, he said something along the lines of “ any other rapper would have retired but I have more to accomplish”. Blah blah. That’s your energy, you will be giving way more than is expected. ( example, I wrote a whole book for this pile) You will be surpassing others and your even your own expectations. People are mad that you are independent which automatically renders the majority POWERLESS.
Most people need others to need them because it makes them feel important and of course, a need can be capitalized. This whole world thrives ON A NEED. The fact that you’ll be in a position where you are no longer subjected to others, IS POWER & THAT IS WHY EVERYBODY WILL BE MAD. It gives underdog is top dog energy. Lastly, ( truly) like Pile (2), everybody will be mad because you do not want marriage. It’s like Rhianna Vibes, she’s a billionaire and everyone expects her to be married because she has two children. If you read pile (2), you just want to remain unencumbered, detached and not tied down to anyone. Especially after you witnessed the true nature of most people. You are cautious, focused and simple do not have time or energy to invite someone into your life who can and will try to take all that you have worked for ALONE. They did not care nor were they attracted to you when you had nothing so in your mind, it’s best they KEEP THAT SAME ENERGY & THAT’S WHY THEY ARE MAD!!!
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! IF ANY OF THESE PILES RESONATED PLEASE CONSIDER "HEARTING" OR REBLOGGING MY POST. I AM TRYING TO BUILD AND EXPAND MY BLOG AND I NEED YOUR HELP TO DO SO.
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holllandtrash · 1 year ago
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gone | daniel ricciardo
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pairing: daniel ricciardo x driver!reader (part 3 to fragile line)
I just know You're not gone You can't be gone
The 2023 season is painful, its challenging and Daniel is still very much in your life in all the ways he shouldn't be.
word count: 9.9k (i dont even know how) warnings/tags: angst, heartbreak, all the painful stuff
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“I don’t want to do this anymore.”
“Do what?” 
You exhaled a breath that made your entire body shake, “You know what, Daniel.” 
Of course he did. For the last few months, he was experiencing the exact same things you were. The uncertainty, the tension, the sleepless nights, god you were so tired. 
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be you and him. You were supposed to be a team. 
So much went wrong, too much. Daniel stood in front of you now as you asked yourself if you were too far gone. 
And you both knew the answer to that one. 
That first race back in Hungary…you were a mess. You probably would have been a little bit more put together had Oliver not pointed out the lineup for the driver’s press conference. 
“You’re kidding,” your jaw dropped, staring at the list. “Who’s smart idea was it to put myself and Daniel together?”
“This is Formula 1,” Oliver sounded apologetic, he did feel bad about the situation. “The FIA doesn’t care if he’s your ex.”
The FIA didn’t care but the entire world watching did. Speculations on what would happen, where you would sit, what would be asked flooded social media. 
When you showed up on Thursday, Lando patted your back and told you to breathe.
“Easier said than done, Lando. I don’t see you being forced to sit with your ex.”
He chuckled at that because you had a point. “Look, I love Danny, but don’t let him get to you, alright?”
Originally, Lando did try to switch the sessions. He talked to Zak, PR, everyone, just because he knew how much you were dreading it. But alas, it was you who was now standing outside the media room, leaning against the wall as you waited to go in and get these next twenty minutes over and done with.
Your plan was to just say as little as possible to everyone. You were banking on the fact that the attention would be solely on Daniel and his return, and that was made clear when he walked into the hallway, getting warm greetings from other drivers and those standing nearby.
He had absolutely no reason to stand next to you, not when there were about ten other people who would have been dying for a few seconds of his time. 
Daniel cleared his throat, hands behind his back as he leaned against the wall as well. 
You counted six seconds before he opened his mouth, speaking to you for the first time since the awards dinner months ago. 
“Not even a hello?” He asked, but he wasn’t the least bit surprised that you were completely avoiding looking in his direction. You ignored him and Daniel laughed to himself at your lack of response.
The door opened again and you took a breath of relief when you realised you were about to be called into the press conference. Just get it over and done with.
Daniel didn’t have the same priorities and spoke up again, “I just want to know-”
You promptly cut him off, you had to. “Look I think it would be best if we just-” god this hurt, you couldn’t even look him in the eye. “Let’s just not talk, okay?”
You pushed yourself away from the wall when one of the media assistants handed each of you a mic and gave you the thumbs up that it was time for the five of you to head out onto the couch. Daniel quickly followed behind you, voice low enough that you could hear but it was unlikely anyone else could.
“So that’s it? You have nothing to say to me?” He asked. “For the person who got you into Formula 1?”
You as well spoke in a harsh whisper, “You may have fast tracked my career but I could have made it to Formula 1 without your help.”
You liked to believe that was true. Was it? You’d never know now.
“But you did take my help,” he pointed out, a groan slipping past his lips as he sat down on the couch. You made sure to distance yourself from him, leaving room for Carlos to sit between you. Even still, Daniel wasn’t done. “You took my help, my resources and then my seat.”
“And what did you do?” You hissed, arms crossed over your chest as different media personnel started to slowly trickle into the room, the lucky ones who claimed the first row were probably close enough to hear you and Daniel.
“Pardon?” He turned his head towards you. Carlos instinctively leaned further back, not wanting to be in the middle of this conversation, but watching and listening intently, as were the other drivers.
“What did you do, hmm?” You repeated, eyes scanning the growing crowd before you snapped your head in his direction. 
For a moment, this feud didn’t matter. Your heart skipped a beat, like it had the hundreds, thousands, of other times when his eyes met yours. The same brown eyes that for months you allowed yourself to get lost in. One look from him and everything around you faded to black. Nothing else seemed important when Daniel was looking at you, giving you his undivided attention.
But this moment wasn’t like all of those other ones.
You snapped out of it, returning to your original thought, much to Carlos’ dismay as he thought you guys were done and had started to relax in between you. 
“We both replaced a driver before their contract was up, Daniel.” You stated, wanting to point out the hypocrisy in his actions. “You are no better than me. We did the exact same thing.”
“It wasn’t the same and you know it,” Daniel retorted, not skipping a beat. He had those words lined up for weeks now, waiting for the chance to say them because there was no way in hell you weren’t going to point out the similarities in your actions.
But Daniel was right. It wasn’t the same. The biggest difference being, you were in love with Daniel when you signed that contract with McLaren, and he was in love with you. 
It wasn’t just a driver screwing over another driver. You drove a wedge between the two of you.
You had the thought to stand up and walk out. The press conference hadn’t officially started yet, the last few reporters were just finding their seats. You could say you’re ill, something came up, really any excuse to get out of here and away from Daniel’s harsh stare.
Don’t let him get to you. Lando’s reminder floated to the front of your mind and you forced yourself to just sit back and look at the small crowd instead. It was clear to everyone who even glanced your way that you did not want to be sitting there, but thankfully Tom Clarkson got the session up and running.
Of course Daniel was the star. Tom had questions about his return, about his short break, about being back with familiar faces. Daniel answered them all with such ease, the familiar heartwarming grin on his face that you couldn’t bear to look at. 
You zoned out, really, arms crossed in front of your chest as you tried to ignore the double standards coming from your right. You doubted Daniel was going to get as much hate online as you had gotten. No one was asking him how he felt about taking another’s seat, everyone was just happy he was back.
“And Y/N, onto you-”
You snapped your head up, plastering on your best smile.
“Last year you finished quite high in Hungary in Formula 2 and after your best finish out in Silverstone, you must feel quite confident going into this weekend?”
You lifted the mic up to your lips, “Yes and no, you know the car’s upgrades are proving to be paying off and we’re hoping to use them to our advantage this weekend but one can never be too confident. As a team we’ll be fighting to be at the front again but in the back of our minds we know that everyone else is doing the same.”
Tom nodded, content with that answer, “And is it nice to have another familiar face on the grid? Daniel acted as a sort of mentor for you during your time in F2, did he not?”
You tensed up and next to you, Carlos felt it. He nudged his arm against yours, a subtle move of encouragement. Carlos, like most of the drivers, knew how uncomfortable the situation was for all involved.
But you couldn’t process the kind gesture. Not when you could practically feel Daniel staring at you, burning holes into the side of your head as he waited for your response.
“I think, yeah a lot of people are probably happy to welcome him back,” you spoke quietly, and not at all convincing. But hey, at least you removed yourself from the answer and gave a general response. One that no one could flip on you.
Tom tried, though, “But personally, what’s going through your mind right now?”
You had so much media training. You knew the proper answer would be something along the lines of how Daniel is a great asset to the sport and how the grid is better with him. Nothing personal, but just facts the general public could agree with. You knew what to say.
But you scoffed instead, “Why aren’t you asking the other drivers how they feel?”
Max spoke up from the opposite end of the couch, “It’s great having Daniel back.”
You shot him a quick, yet thankful, smile. While he was good friends with Daniel, anyone on that couch could see how that question was only given to you because of your history with the Australian. And this press conference was supposed to be about motorsport, about the racing coming up. 
You stayed quiet for the rest of it and as soon as it ended you bolted out of that room. 
Unfortunately, so did Daniel.
He caught up to you with ease, “Hold up, Y/N, I want to talk.”
Daniel reached for your arm and you pulled it out of his grasp as you turned around to face him, “I don’t think there’s anything left to say. No, you said plenty last year. What was it, exactly? Something about how taking your seat before your contract was even up was the worst thing I could have possibly done? I’m not going to sit there and listen to everyone praise you for coming back when you dragged my name through the dirt for the exact same fucking move. I’m not going to listen to a single thing you have to say, knowing you’re the biggest hypocrite this sport has ever seen but won’t admit it.”
Daniel huffed out a short breath. For a second, you thought he was going to apologise, but that thought quickly left when his forehead creased, his jaw tightening, “Sometimes you gotta burn a few bridges in this industry, but you figured that out all on your own, didn’t you?”
You shook your head, taking a few more steps backwards as heavy sarcasm dripped from your tongue, “Nice to have you back, Daniel.”
It really was anything but nice. Not when that entire race was focused on how you and Daniel interacted in the paddock- or the lack of interaction was probably a better way to phrase it. Everyone knew you two to be connected at the hip. Now you were turning around and walking in the opposite direction to avoid him.
The next race was worse. Spa. It was a challenging track already, you knew this going into the practice sessions. You were prepared for a difficult weekend.
What you weren’t prepared for was leaving the garage towards the end of Q1 to set a lap time, only to be blocked by Daniel before you could cross the finish line. He slowed down before the straight, like many drivers did before giving it all they had on their way to start a flying lap. 
But Daniel didn’t speed up like you expected him to. He kept you behind him for as long as he could before shifting gears and taking off. When it was your turn to cross the line and get your time started, you heard the call come in from the garage. 
“Times up,” your engineer, Ronnie, said through the radio. “You didn’t cross the line in time.”
Once that timer hit 0, no one was allowed to start a new lap. Every other driver made it across in time, but Daniel’s little move kept you from throwing your hat into the ring for Q2. 
You embarrassingly made your way back around the track, pulling into the pit lane to park in the garage. It wasn’t long before other drivers followed, but they had all set lap times. Climbing out of the car, you noticed that Daniel didn’t make it through either.
Serves him right, you thought. 
God, you wanted to give him a piece of your mind. 
Right on time, you watched on the screen as Daniel dove into the pit lane. You ignored the calls from Ronnie and Oliver, not a single thought in your mind except to ask Daniel what his problem was.
Oliver knew what you were doing as soon as you stepped out of the garage. You ripped your helmet off and shoved it into his hands as he hurried to walk at your pace. Your eyes were set on the AlphaTauri garage just up ahead and you could hear Oliver warning you, telling you to just turn around and go back to McLaren but the second you saw Daniel get out of his car, you snapped.
“What the hell was that?” You asked, eyeing him up from where he stood at the garage opening. 
Daniel wasn’t the least bit surprised to see you, but he did stand up straighter, already anticipating whatever you had to say to him. 
“You’re a prick, you know that?” Your insult did little to offend him. 
“It's not my fault you left the garage late,” Daniel shrugged, taking no responsibility for your inability to set a lap time. 
“It’s completely your fault for slowing down more than necessary.”
“I didn’t want to run into traffic.”
“You fucked up my qualifying, Daniel.”
You felt Oliver’s hand on your shoulder. He wasn’t trying to pull you away, but the touch was to get your attention. Aside from AlphaTauri crew members watching this interaction, there was also a camera pointed directly at the two of you, streaming live to F1TV and whatever else broadcast that chose to air it. 
Daniel wasn’t as concerned about his media appearance, stepping forward the slightest bit so you were only inches apart. 
“If I were you, sweets, I wouldn’t be blaming your problems on the person who got you into this sport.”
You were so close to losing it on him for that comment. You probably would have, had he not thrown in his old nickname for you. Only it wasn’t sweet anymore. There was a distaste on his tongue as he said it, you heard it. He only said it to throw you off, to remind you that he no longer cared for you the way he used to. He was using it against you now.
Daniel saw the way you froze, completely losing your train of thought and he used it to his advantage to walk away from this conversation. He was happy to get the last word in and all you could do was drop your head and walk as close to Oliver as humanly possible as you made your way back to McLaren.
The altercation was heavily split down the middle by all who watched. Some people agreed that Daniel slowed down purposely to keep you from crossing the line in time to start a lap. They also agreed that he should have owned up and apologised for it, saying that it wasn’t in his character to leave another driver so defeated after something that was clearly his fault.
Other people agreed that it was your fault for leaving the garage too late, taking Daniel’s side. They said that it wasn’t very mature of you to confront him like that, or to swear at him. It only added to the conversation of how women weren’t ready to have a place in Formula 1. 
Your PR manager advised you to put out a statement about it, an apology. You ignored her advice. In your opinion, the only person who had to apologise was Daniel.
Of course he didn’t, though. 
Which meant you didn’t apologise when after the summer, In Zandvoort, you braked a little early when Daniel was behind you. You played it off saying you anticipated the turn too early. Daniel happily complained about you in the media pen when he was forced into the grass and then ultimately the barrier, forcing his race to end early. Social media blew up, like usual, feeding into this childish feud. 
That’s how it went for most all, of the races. It wasn’t as though you were purposely trying to ruin his weekends, nor was it his goal to ruin yours, but if you happened to be alongside each other during the race or near each other during qualifying, fans started to put their money on who would target who first.
You didn’t like that that was what your weekends turned into. It was one thing to want to know where the rest of the drivers were in comparison to you, but to be so focused on Daniel was taking it to the extreme.
But you were determined to prove you were a good driver without him, that you were a better driver than him. That taking that McLaren seat wasn’t a mistake and if anything, he should be regretting being so harsh on you. You wanted him to eat his words, and it helped your case that he was definitely struggling in the AlphaTauri. 
You finished ahead of him a handful of times. You could try and convince yourself it was skill, but a determining factor really was how horrible Daniel’s car was. That was proven when you were struggling with an upgrade package in Singapore. Some analysts compared the pace of the McLaren to the AlphaTauri, and said that the upgrades were really more like downgrades. 
When Daniel finished ahead of you, claiming sixth that race while you crossed the line in 17th, you were furious. You told the team that as a whole, you were much better than that. That the McLarens should not be finishing in the bottom five considering how successful you had been mid season. 
Those closest to you knew what you meant. You shouldn’t be finishing behind Daniel. 
Things weren’t perfect after that, despite going back to the old set up. You were back to fighting for points, but so was Daniel. And you hated it. You thought you could rely on the McLaren being better than the AlphaTauri, but you forgot to take into account that Daniel truly was one of the best drivers on the grid.
It got to the point where you and Ronnie had a code. If you finished ahead of him, on the radio, Ronnie would say way to go champ. If Daniel finished ahead of you and you weren’t already aware of it during the race, Ronnie would say there’s still work to be done. 
Again, those closest to you knew how much it meant to beat Daniel. 
You wanted to prove to him, and everyone but you wouldn’t lie to yourself it was mostly him, that you deserved that fucking seat. That you made the right choice by signing the contract, despite it meaning he was without a car for a few months. You shouldn’t have felt guilty for putting yourself first, your career first, if you were doing something great, which you were. 
Plus, the better you did, the less of a reason Daniel had to judge you. How could he still be upset with you for taking that McLaren seat when you were doing what he couldn’t? Scoring in the high points, being consistent, for the most part. How could he say that taking his seat was the worst thing you could have done when ultimately, it would boil down to jealousy? Daniel struggled in that McLaren, and he assumed you would too. That wasn’t the case. 
And deep down, even if you didn’t want to admit it, there was still a part of you that aimed to make Daniel proud. Even if you couldn’t get back to when you were each other's biggest fans, you hoped that he had moments when he looked at the driver standings and nodded to himself, smiling maybe, because even if you weren't on the best of terms, you were doing what he always knew you could do. 
You had no idea, but moments like that did come for Daniel. They were far and few between, rarely caught on camera or at least, never brought to your attention. You had no way of knowing Daniel was leaving the AlphaTauri garage, conflicted about how he felt about your accomplishments. You were doing better than him, there was no denying that. He just chose not to admit it.
The only time that season where you knew he was proud was at COTA. One of his favourite races on the calendar.
You qualified well, P3. That hadn’t happened since Silverstone. The race itself didn’t produce anything too horrible, aside from a few drivers at the back of the grid collided early on and unfortunately Daniel was one of them, being forced to retire. 
You, though, you were flying. Your biggest competition was Lando who had started P2, again, similar to Silverstone. For most of the race, your job was to defend Carlos who was aiming for that podium, wanting to take P3 from you. 
Typically, you would have boxed first. That’s usually what happened to give Lando the advantage. And with Carlos most likely being on an undercut strategy, you expected the call to come in to box ahead of him. 
But that didn’t happen. Instead, you watched Lando pull into the pit lane, giving you the automatic second place position. In your mirrors, you watched as Carlos pulled into the pits as well.
“What’s going on?” You asked Ronnie through the headset. 
“Plan F.”
Plan F was one you joked about, but never actually executed. Plan Fight you and Lando called it, but both of you knew that you’d never actually be given the go ahead to fight it out for the podium positions, not wanting to risk damage to the cars.
“Plan F?” You repeated, the shock in your voice evident. That made for good content on F1 Twitter.
“Box this lap,” Ronnie instructed before going on to explain. “Carlos is struggling with his pace, we believe his main goal will be to defend.”
From what you knew, Lewis was behind him, and if Carlos was struggling with his pace he wouldn’t be fighting for a podium, he’d be fighting to keep that fourth place position. 
Which meant you and Lando were also free to fight. 
Pitting for new tyres dropped you back a bit, but it didn’t take long at all until you were right on Lando’s tail again. You stayed there for the majority of the last half of the race, the gap wavering anywhere between half of a second to three seconds behind. 
You tried to pass, truly. But Lando’s defensive game had always been strong. You looked for the opportunities in the corners, along the straights, but it wasn’t until the third to last lap did the chance come. 
You had closed the gap as much as you could, not needing to worry about whoever was behind you, you figured it was still Carlos. As you approached the back straight, you knew Lando was expecting you to dart to the left in an attempt for an overtake on the inside, you had tried it in five out of the last ten laps and each time you were still left eating his dust. 
You veered slightly to the left, giving Lando the impression that was your goal and the second he made the move to defend, you steered the car to the right and gave it everything you had. It was a tricky move, vying for the outside overtake going into the tight corner, but when it seemed to work out, you had the inside line for the following turn and Lando was soon in your mirrors. 
He tried to take that position back, but you took advantage of the clear air and set off, determined for your first podium, determined to finish ahead of Lando.
Lando ended up claiming third, crossing the finish line only a second after you did. After a victory lap, where he jokingly flipped you off, the two of you pulled into parc ferme. Immediately, you collapsed into Lando, arms tight around him because not only was this a success for you, but for the team. Both McLaren drivers on the podium for the first time this season.
Through the cheers, you could hear Lando yell something about making history. Whether that was in regards to both of you or the fact that you were the first female to ever podium in F1, you weren’t sure. It didn’t matter anyway. You just knew you were proud.
You jumped into the arms of your team next, those standing behind the barrier. Adrenaline was pumping through you, you just wanted to celebrate with everyone. When you eventually took your helmet off, a few tears were streaming down your face and you didn’t even think about the risk of turning into the new George Russell crying meme. 
You were shaking as you stood in the cool down room, too amped up to sit. Max had been through this dozens of times before. Nor was this Lando’s first podium either, but you were on top of the world.
The ceremony went by in a blur. As did the post race conference. You really did try to take in each second of it, thankful that Lando was there at your side the entire time. This entire process was new to you and if Lando wasn’t in your ear telling you to breathe, where to go, to enjoy the moment, you would have been a mess.
There was so much that happened following that race, there was no way you could have known what was going on with any of the other drivers. It wasn’t until you got back to your hotel room at the end of the day with instructions to ‘get changed because we’re going out’ from Lando, did you see what you had missed.
It felt like hours since you even looked at your phone. You had called your parents, but you didn’t have much time for anything else. Now that you were sat on the edge of your bed, you were able to scroll through your texts and notifications. 
You were able to see the clip you were tagged in way too many times, on way too many platforms.
It was short, but any longer and you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself. You clicked play and watched the video of you crossing the finish line. Lando was following behind, but whatever broadcast this was from didn’t care about his finish. The shot switched to Daniel, from where he stood in the AlphaTauri garage.
Whoever was filming caught his live reaction of you coming second at COTA.
The nod, the faint curl of the corner of his lips because as much as he tried, he couldn’t fight the smile on his face as he watched you take your first podium position in F1, something that he once dreamed for you.
But you not being part of his dreams anymore didn’t mean that he stopped wishing you accomplished yours. 
This brought you back to the first video you watched of him a few years back, before you even met him, where he spoke so highly of you. He wanted you to succeed so badly back then and he wanted to be at your side while you did so.
Now here you were, succeeding, but where was Daniel?
Maybe that’s where some of his hostility lied. You didn’t need him, clearly. Or at least, that’s what he thought. 
The reality was, you wanted to prove you could do this without him, but you wished you didn’t have to. 
You were conflicted, you both were. And it didn’t help that you weren’t speaking civilly to each other because my god a simple conversation would probably do wonders for both of you. 
That was Lando’s thought, as he sat down next to you in the booth and handed you the glass of coke, no rum much to his dismay. You didn’t drink during the season, even if you had something to celebrate, Lando knew this. Champagne on the podium was the only exception.
Tonight, though, as you sat in your thoughts and replayed the image in your mind of Daniel smiling up at the screen, you figured that another exception wouldn’t hurt. 
You turned down the coke and grabbed his drink instead, downing it in one gulp and instantly regretting it because you were fairly certain it was tequila based and tequila just wasn’t something you ever enjoyed. Lando laughed and handed you the coke to chase it down with. 
“You’re letting loose tonight?” He asked, sitting down beside you. His arm stretched across the bench behind your shoulders. He didn’t even try stifling his chuckle as you struggled with the bitter taste left in your mouth.
“I need to,” you answered. 
“You deserve to,” he corrected. Lando reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet and then a sleek black card. He didn’t say anything to you, nor to the server who came by and knew that by him dropping the card on the table meant he was asking for bottle service. 
It wasn’t long before you had a row of shots to split between the two of you and a few others who had crowded the booth, some you knew, some you didn’t. Not that it mattered, you just wanted to drink, you didn’t care who you were with.
Lando being there was a godsend, though. He knew that you were a lightweight and told you that the glass in your hand was a vodka soda when in reality he asked the server for you to just be given water after a few hours of the most carefree drinking he had ever witnessed from you. 
The music was blaring, you had gotten up to dance at one point, but you kept finding your way back to the booth. Clubbing wasn’t your thing and Lando, whether he liked it or not, was an anchor for you tonight. He kept you safe, kept you from drowning in the sea of people and alcohol. 
He could do a lot that night, but he couldn’t prevent the inevitable storm that was Daniel Ricciardo making an appearance at that Austin night club.
Lando saw him first and turned to you with the intention of suggesting that you both called it a night. But no words came out when he saw the painful look of desire and despair mashed together on your features as you spotted the Australian driver. 
You didn’t drink often, but if you did, you would know that feelings are often elevated under the influence. You’d also know that alcohol lowers inhibition, giving you a false sense of security to say what was really on your mind.
“I don’t get it,” you spoke quietly and Lando leaned in closer to hear you over the music blasting from all corners. 
“Get what?”
You pulled your gaze off of Daniel before you could accidentally make eye contact and looked at your teammate instead. He seemed concerned for you, he always did when Daniel was involved. 
Lando always did what he could to get your mind off Daniel and the past. He was a good friend, a good person to have in your corner but he wasn’t who you wanted there at the end of the day. You had grown to love Lando, not in the way you loved Daniel, though, so you couldn’t deny that you wished it was the Aussie sitting next to you in the booth, celebrating your podium. You hated that you wanted that.
“Do you miss him, still?” Lando prompted, knowing you had lost your train of thought. 
When you shook your head, Lando gave you a look that clearly showed he didn’t believe you, but it was true. You didn’t miss Daniel. What you felt was much worse.
“I don’t miss him,” you answered, glancing towards him again. He stood at the bar talking to a girl that you envied because at least she was talking to him. “But I think he’s my missing piece.”
You hadn’t felt whole since the day you and Daniel split. You walked out of his flat but you left a piece of you there, a piece you desperately tried to get back through race weekends and training and distractions but it was no use. It would always belong to Daniel and you feared he had no intention of giving it back. You feared, that no matter how much time had passed, you’d always feel a little incomplete. 
You stood up to leave soon after, thanking Lando for the drinks and assuring him you’d send a text when you got back to the hotel. 
Lando tried to follow you to the door, wanting to tell you that he would go with you, the concerned friend making another appearance, but before he could get a word out he watched as someone cut him off, also making a direct line towards the door of the club.
It took Lando a second to realise it was Daniel who was walking after you now. Lando just stood there and raised his hand to the back of his neck, asking himself if he had just made a mistake by not stopping Daniel.
When Lando asked the next morning if Daniel spoke to you, you gave him a questionable look, telling him that you didn’t talk to him at all. Lando explained that he had seen Daniel leave the club right after you, but you just shrugged, chalking it up to getting into the uber before Daniel had the chance to catch up to you.
But Lando saw the photos. He, like everyone else, saw images of Daniel climbing into the car right after you. He wasn't the least bit surprised you lied about it. 
You didn't want to tell Lando that Daniel had grabbed the side of the car door before you could shut it, pulling it back just enough for him to slide into the backseat next to you. You shuffled over to make room, but you couldn’t get a single word out. All liquid courage vanished and instead your palms were clammy, the car felt stuffy and you couldn’t even look at him.
Daniel as well, didn’t say anything. His legs were spread out slightly, knee hitting yours as his hands were folded together in his lap. 
Why did he follow you?
This was the first time in ages you had been alone together, minus the driver. 
The hotel was a short drive away, but it felt like ages, the two of you sitting in uncomfortable silence. You weren’t bickering like you often did if you were in the same room, but at this point you’d rather that than whatever this eeriness was. 
You thought maybe, maybe, this was your saving grace. Maybe Daniel had followed you out of the club to tell you he was proud of you, to tell you he still loved you, to tell you he was tired of this feud and wanted you back.
But the longer you sat in silence, the more it sank in that that wasn’t the case. 
You used to love each other. Now you couldn’t even hold eye contact.
Daniel waited until the driver pulled onto the street of your hotel before saying anything. 
“Checo’s gone after this year.”
You turned to him, unsure if you had heard correctly. “What?”
“He’s gone,” Daniel repeated, more confident this time, still not looking at you though. “Marko told me on Friday.”
You had way too much alcohol flowing through your system to be able to process this. Checo’s contract wasn’t supposed to be up until the end of 2024. 
But Nyck’s wasn’t supposed to be up in June and Daniel’s wasn’t supposed to be done at McLaren in 2022. These things happened in Formula 1, as unfortunate as it was for the driver getting the boot, these things often happened. 
And Daniel…why did he know this information? Why didn’t the rest of the grid know it? Did Checo even know?
You inhaled sharply, “Does this mean-”
“The news is dropping tomorrow morning, but I wanted you to know first,” Daniel cut you off, his forehead creased with tension. His jaw was clenched, like he wasn’t happy to be saying this but felt the need to anyway. “I’m driving for Red Bull next year.”
The first thought that came to mind was he’s done it again. Taking another driver's seat before their contact ended. 2-1 now. He was officially a shittier person than you were and you so badly wanted to rub it in his face. 
But you could see now that that was why he told you personally. He didn’t want to wait until you heard the news like everyone else, he didn’t want to give you an opportunity to attack him for this, to make him feel like the bad guy even though that’s how he made you feel this entire season so far.
Surprisingly, it wasn’t all that difficult to bite your tongue. 
“Congratulations,” you settled on, quietly but you meant it and you caught him off guard because he truly was expecting some sort of lashing out. 
The driver pulled up to the hotel right at that second and you thanked him before stepping out, not giving Daniel a second look, again catching him off guard because you always looked back at him when you were together. 
Daniel waited a second. And then a few more before he bolted out of the car and into the hotel. You had made it to the elevator by that point and Daniel had to slide his hand between the doors to keep them from shutting. You watched as he pushed his way in and just like the car ride, said nothing.
You were on your way up to the twelve floor and Daniel waited until you arrived at the level before opening his mouth, waiting till the last second, wanting to cling onto this civil moment with you because who knew when it would come again?
“You’re not mad?” He asked.
The door opened and you had to brace yourself before standing up straight and walking out of the elevator, needing a moment to remember what side of the hall your room was on.
“I’m livid,” you answered, honestly. You were happy for him, but you were also angry about the situation. You didn’t know it was possible to feel both things at once, but in your drunk state, it was extremely possible. 
“Livid?” Daniel walked behind you, trying to gauge the rest of this conversation because you didn’t sound livid. 
“Enraged,” you said.
“Enraged,” he repeated.
“I want to wring your neck, Daniel,” you said, hearing him chuckle behind you because you didn’t sound the least bit threatening as you fumbled to unlock the hotel room door. The lock kept lighting up red and after your third failed attempt, Daniel took the card from your hand and unlocked it with ease, pushing the door open for you. 
You didn’t thank him, instead relying on the wall once you stepped inside to lean against as you pulled your heels off. Daniel followed you inside, standing at a cautious distance until you dropped your shoes because part of him thought that maybe you would throw them at him. You were enraged after all.
You weren’t sure why he was still there. He had told you what he wanted to tell you and he had no reason to still be hanging around. 
“What?” You finally asked, now sounding a little more on the annoyed side as you turned to stare at him. “What do you want? Why are you still here?”
“I want to talk.”
“About what?” You scoffed at him. “About the Red Bull contract? Congratulations, Danny. You deserve it. You deserve every fucking seat on this grid apparently.”
There it was.
“I knew you were mad.”
“I said I was mad!” You exclaimed, appalled that he was saying it like he discovered what you had already made perfectly clear. “I’m pissed, Dan. You have such a cult following that no one is going to bat an eye at you taking Checo’s seat, just like no one complained about you taking Nyck’s. Whereas I do it, I get offered the chance of a lifetime, to make history and I’m considered the villain? I didn’t end your contract, Daniel, I just replaced you and for some reason, no one cares about that narrative! They just care about you.”
You were yelling now. Daniel was probably regretting having followed you but it was too late for him to turn and walk out at this point.
“You know what the shitty part is?” You asked, stepping closer to him. Daniel could smell the vodka on your breath. That's how minimal the distance was between you. The last time you were this close you were wanting to rip his head off outside the AlphaTauri garage. 
“What?” He raised his eyebrows. Daniel couldn’t even begin to guess where you were going with this.
“This news is going to drop and my name is going to be circulating in the media again. They’re going to compare this, you taking his seat, to me taking yours. I will never be known as the first female signed to McLaren. I will forever be linked to you, no matter what you do in this fucking sport.”
You shook your head at him when he stayed silent. Pulling your eyes off of him, the heaviest exhale passed through your lips and you turned around, wanting this night to end. After you waved your hand in the air you muttered something about how he could see himself out.
But he didn’t go anywhere. 
And because he didn’t go anywhere and because you were drunk, you easily thought of more to say.
“You didn’t even like McLaren,” you sighed as you turned back around to face him, leaning against the wall. Your head was spinning. Maybe if you were lucky, this conversation wasn’t actually happening and it was a drunk figment of your imagination.
“No, but I loved you.” 
You definitely didn’t imagine him saying that.
“I loved you,” he repeated, the past-tense admittance felt like a stab to your chest. “And I wanted nothing more than to race alongside you without feeling the need to prove something, to be your partner off the grid. I wanted to love you and race at the same time and you ruined that.”
All you could do was shrug your shoulders. You had said everything you needed to say at this point in defence of your contract, “I’m a driver, Dan. The race, the seat, it comes first, everything else second. You of all people know that.”
“We could have had both.”
Both. Love and a spot in Formula 1. 
Clearly not.
“Could we have?” You asked, unsure if you even had an answer, but you needed him to really think about it. To think about it if that really was a possibility for the two of you. 
Daniel and you held each other's stares for a minute, waiting for the other to say something. You were still waiting, hoping, for him to say he was proud of you, that he still loved you, that it didn’t matter what happened in the past, but it did matter. Daniel was still waiting for a sincere apology, but you had nothing to apologise for. Signing that McLaren contract was the best thing you’d ever done for yourself, despite the strings to Daniel you had now found yourself tangled in, McLaren was where you were supposed to be.
“I’m tired, Dan,” you shook your head and glanced towards your room down the hall. Physically, mentally, you were drained. And you weren’t ready for what was to happen tomorrow when his contract news came to light.
It didn’t even feel like you had gotten a podium a few hours ago. The last thing you wanted to do was celebrate. You just wanted to crawl into bed and forget that Daniel had followed you here.
He didn’t stop you as you walked down the hall. He waited for you to look at him, but again, you were past that. What was a second look going to do at this point? You wiped your makeup off as best as you could and slid under the covers of your bed, quickly falling into a dreamless sleep.
And sure enough, the news dropped of his contract, of his new seat, and it wasn’t long before people started comparing it to what you had done the year prior. 
The first thing you saw when you woke up that morning, aside from the glass of water that Daniel had put next to your bed, was the news alert on your phone stating that Daniel was to replace Checo for 2024. 
The second article you read was about you. Speculating how you would feel about Daniel’s permanent return. The article highlighted the moments of your relationship, starting from the day he signed on to be your mentor to the time in the AlphaTauri garage when you were fighting over the qualifying lap he ruined.
And then there was a photo of you climbing into the car from last night, followed by Daniel getting into the car shortly after.
His name was trending. Your name was trending. Half the people online cared about his return to RBR. The other half wanted to know if you two were getting back together.
No one gave a single shit that you made history yesterday, landing that podium. 
You were the first female to score a podium position in Formula 1 and all anyone cared about was your connection to Daniel. Just like when you won the Monaco Grand Prix during F2, all anyone cared about was Daniel’s influence in your racing. When you were signed to McLaren, all anyone cared about was how you were replacing Daniel.
Daniel. Daniel. Daniel.
People didn’t care about your accomplishments. They only wanted to find a way to connect them all to Daniel.
You scrolled through the article and a new one was suggested for you at the bottom of it. Why Y/N Y/L/N Owes Her Career to The Honey Badger.
Instead of reading it, you threw your phone with as much strength as you had down the hall, out of your sight. You heard it hit the floor and slide across the hardwood. 
You couldn’t remember the last time you read something positive about yourself without a hint of Daniel’s influence. 
This wouldn’t have been as hard of a pill to swallow if he was still in your life the way you wanted him to be. If he really was still at your side, supporting you, cheering you on, you could look past the articles and speculations about how he was the only reason you were in the sport. It wouldn’t matter what people were saying if Daniel was in your ear reminding you of your potential, reminding you that you deserved that F1 seat.
But he wasn’t going to do that, not anymore. What you had was gone and you were left with the bitter memories and an unforgiving path you had to walk alone to prove yourself in this field.
You wanted to prove you didn’t need Daniel, but the entire world was making it their mission to remind you that at one point, you did. Maybe you still did, maybe you didn’t know who you were without him because let’s face it, everything you did on the track still revolved around him.
You cared about where he finished. You went out of your way to outscore him and only him. You didn’t do anything to relieve the tension in the paddock. You were very much playing into the narrative that he was still a key player in your life.
How could the world move on if you hadn’t?
Hearing footsteps make their way towards you, you sat up in bed, already knowing it was Daniel who didn’t leave when he should have.
You weren’t concerned about your appearance, he had seen you in a much worse state. He had better mornings as well, still wearing his clothes from last night, the bags under his eyes gave away the fact that he was about as tired as you were.
He had your phone in his hands, but he didn’t spend much time looking at the article on the screen. Instead, he dropped it to the table next to him and leaned against the doorframe, exhaling a heavy breath.
You didn’t move, content with the distance between you now because you had to be. Despite wanting nothing more than to be with him, you couldn’t have that anymore. Everything had to be at a distance.
Your phone chimed. Once, twice, and then about four more times. You knew it was people telling you about Daniel’s contract, not knowing that you had been given the inside scoop last night. 
At one point, you loved being connected to Daniel. Now, it was a burden. It was haunting. Each time someone mentioned him to you, sent you something about him, asked you a question about him, you were reminded that the connection was gone. 
Your lips parted and you had to take a quick, self-assuring breath before finally saying what had to be said.
“I don’t want to do this anymore.”
“Do what?” 
Your entire body trembled as you spoke, “You know what, Daniel.” 
Of course he did. He was as tired as you were. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this and yet here you were, staring at each other knowing that you were both too far gone to ever find your way back. 
You thought, maybe, possibly, you could work things out. For a brief moment, when you knew he was proud of you, you thought you saw a silver lining amongst the grey skies. And maybe you did, maybe it was there, but it was way beyond your grasp. You couldn’t reach out and grab it, you could only dream of it.
There was one solution. One that broke you, knowing you were stuck with it. You didn’t want to admit it. You wished you could push it down and keep living the way you had but you just couldn’t do it anymore. 
You were tired. This was hopeless. You both needed closure, but he wasn’t going to say anything which meant you had to.
“I’m stuck, Daniel. I’m stuck living in the moments between the day we met and the day I left because those are the moments that meant the most to me and I haven't been ready to let them go. I’ve never wanted to move on but you forced me to. You forced me to become the bad guy, to do this without you, to grow without you, to prove that I don’t need you but I do need you, I’ve always needed you. From day one, I needed you. My first time in the F1 car, I needed you. If I crashed out, I needed you. I always needed you, Daniel, and then after a five minute conversation you decided that I didn’t anymore. You made that decision for me, for us.”
You paused, you took a breath, you weren’t done. Despite being so painfully close to breaking down, you weren’t done.
“And now here I am, finally succeeding, finally making history in this sport, but it doesn’t mean anything because no one cares unless they find a way to connect it to you. I will always be in the shadow of the man I love and for this entire season, I’ve let it happen because it was the only way you’d still be in my life.”
Daniel cleared his throat when he heard that four letter word, standing up a little straighter, “You still love me?”
You glanced down at the duvet wrapped around your hips. It was heavy, suffocating, much like this conversation. “Truthfully, Daniel, I can’t imagine the day I stop.”
Daniel didn’t need to say anything for you to know he no longer felt the same. He had stopped loving you the day you signed the contract with McLaren. He may have been proud of your achievements, he may have appeared to have extended a short olive branch, one that gave you false hope, but he didn’t love you. 
Because it always came back to that one question. How could he love you- how could he be in your corner when you had pushed him out of his own? You may not have been the one to initiate his leave, but you gave him that final shove. 
That was a move you had to live with. 
“I love you,” you repeated, your eyes then trailing towards your phone where that stupid article was still displayed on the screen. “I always will, but I can’t be tied to you anymore. I can’t do this anymore.”
Even though Daniel was the one that had broken up with you all those months ago, this hurt more. Hearing you finally cut ties, knowing you didn’t want to be done but had to be, broke him. There was no salvaging this. 
“I think-” your voice cracked as you spoke, but for the sake of this conversation you did your damn best to hold it together. “I think we need to be done.”
We are done, Daniel wanted to say, but he knew there was more to your words.
Watching your bottom lip quiver made him want to pull you into his arms one last time. He wanted to apologise and hold you close before the tears could fall. 
“No more comments to the media,” you stated firmly. Daniel nodded. 
You were stronger than him, maybe you always were. Daniel could barely get a word out and here you were, laying down what had to happen moving forward.
“No more interactions,” you then said, raising your hand to your arm, a soothing gesture or maybe an anxious one, he couldn’t tell. “No more- no more following me out of clubs for people to see. No more giving anyone a reason to connect us. I don’t want you in my life as anything more than another driver on the grid. You’re not my teammate. You’re not my partner. You’re not in my corner. I don’t want to worry about what you think about me anymore. I don’t want to worry about where you finish and I don’t want you to care about where I’m at. I want you to focus on driving just like I want to focus on driving. That’s it. That’s who we are. We’re drivers, Daniel. That’s all we’ve ever been. Strip back every layer of us and racing remains. That’s how it should be. We’ve-” you sucked in a breath, your words getting caught in your throat for a second. “We’ve always known that, I think. That at the end of it all, we’re drivers first. We were foolish to think we could be anything more.”
You couldn’t have both. You couldn’t be in love while on the grid together.
You were only ever drivers. That’s why you signed the McLaren contract. That’s why Daniel didn’t think twice before replacing Nyck and now Checo. You both put your careers first. It wasn’t selfish, it was in your blood, and you couldn’t hold it against each other anymore. 
And you couldn’t hold onto it either.
As much as you liked to think there would come a day where you would still be in love, both of you on the grid, you accepted now that it would never happen. It was a dream, one you had to let go of. You had to mend the hole in your chest that he created. You couldn’t let him be that missing piece.
You had to respect Daniel as a driver, much like he had to with you. But that was it. No more conversations. No more subtle comments made about each other or to each other. You needed distance. No more missed looks in the paddock, because surely someone with a camera would catch it. No more watching the screen if the other was showcased. No more petty feuds. No more interactions. No more caring.
You had to cut ties with Daniel. It was the only way you could focus on yourself and your career.
Surely, enough time would pass where an article would be written about you that didn’t mention his name and his assistance in getting you to where you were now. But that wouldn’t happen if you were still holding onto him. You had to let go for the rest of the world to.
Daniel pushed himself away from the wall without saying a word. You watched, tense, as he slowly made his way towards you and sat down next to you on the bed. Knees touching like they were in the car ride last night. As you turned your head and stared up at him, you could make out the details in his face that you used to cherish, that you had memorised so early on in your relationship. 
But he had changed. There was a sliver of unfamiliarity in his eyes, a reminder that this wasn’t the Daniel who was in love with you anymore.
You had to look away.
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” you whispered. You kept your hands folded in your lap, worried that if you unclenched your fingers you would reach out for him. 
Daniel nodded, agreeing with you. He raised his arm up, tucking it over your shoulders and pulling you against his side. You inhaled a sharp breath at the gesture, knowing this would be the last time you’d feel his touch. He rubbed his hand over your arm, neither of you thinking to say anything else, because there really was nothing left to say.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
You were supposed to be in love. 
And maybe, in another world, you would be. If you didn’t make the move to F1, you could still be in love. If you settled with F2, if you moved to a different series, he could still support you and you could still be his biggest fan. 
But you were drivers. Career focused, determined, passionate drivers who wanted nothing more than to win. You both craved the honour and prestige of a Formula 1 seat more than anything, more than each other. You’d be lying if you thought otherwise.
You were drivers, so inevitably, it was always going to end like this.
__________________
is this the finale or is there one more chapter for these loveless drivers?
taglist: @torossosebs@whatthefuckerr@jspitwall@oconso@tsarinablogs@landowecanbewc@somanyfandomsbruh@christianpulisic10@storminacloud@sunnytkm23@formula1mount@azxulaa@icarus-nex@spideyspeaches @moonvr @destourtereaux @baw-sixteen @cinderellawithashoe @love4lando @alesainz @blueanfield @itsmeempar @vellicora
for some reason im struggling to add anyone else to the taglist, i deeply apologise. i would recommend turning on post notifs but i know its sometimes annoying, but i rly am struggling with my mentions
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moonshynecybin · 4 months ago
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Hi, new to motogp and i’m a sucker for friends to enemies to lovers and relationships drama and pain so obviously i love marc/vale, i am also think marc is fascinating, but I haven’t found much info detailed info vale’s smear campaign against him/his media savvyness/his entire personality, like i think i grasp the bare bones but, are there any tumblr essay that are required reading to you? Also any good posts about this arm injury (aside for the documentary that i will be watching this weekend)
i love arm. ummmm his documentary is pretty much the story. like the central conceit/plot of the whole damn thing is to chart this latest operation on the injury he sustained in jerez 2020 its GONNA give you most of the information on that. now, that being said. marc is a liar sometimes, so i'm gonna try and gather some resources that might give a better idea on where his arm is NOW, because its something he kind of contradicts himself about !
simon patterson interview with The Race podcast: shockingly candid tbh. i think lil homie was having a bit of a crisis. standing on the edge of a cliff facing down possibly the end of his career. what if the move to gresini sucks ass kinda moment. couching his chances this year pretty aggressively. he ALSO says some stuff about how fucked up his arm still is that hes since tried to mildly walk back cuz hes funny. anyways because im insane i transcribed it:
SP: Did you have to switch teams this season? Did you have to change to something that gave you more of a chance to win after the last few years after how difficult everything has been? MM: Yeah, of course if I change teams its because it was something that I need. And yeah, of course it was a risky movement, but at the same time it was a movement thinking on my career, not on results in a short time. Its like thinking if I have the motivation, if I’m competitive again. You know, I had— three years ago, four years ago I had a very big injury, a hard injury in the arm. And yeah, now its working well, but still is not— I mean its the arm that you open four times. If you ask to a doctor, of course its performing in a good way, but its not the same arm. But I have many question marks inside my head. So, the best way to answer to myself is— do what I want. And yeah, its a risky movement. Why? Because the comfortable movement is to stay where I was, with my people, with my friends, with a big salary, the project. But I decided to jump to a new project and at the moment we will see if I can answer the many questions that I have. SP: It sounds like the reason you did it, the questions you have to answer are all for yourself. It's not about– MM: No, no no no– it's just for me. Because for me— I say many times in my interviews— if I don't feel competitive– and competitive doesn't mean win or win, it means be in that top five top six, and yeah five four podiums, five four victories. Win a championship is super difficult. And especially it becomes more and more difficult when the years are passing and the younger [people] are coming. So the life is the life and every athlete has his moment, and then step by step it goes down. But yeah I need to feel again competitive to continue with my career.  Especially these last four years, has been, I mean– has been a nightmare, but is like it has passed super quick. The other years I was competing. I mean in the last four years I’ve completed half the championship, because I had many injuries, so now I need to find this stability, this pace. To start to create again a good base to fight for some races to the top positions— this is my intention. But to fight for the championship? This is something that still I’m not ready for. SP: You said that you learned a lot, during all of this. Is there things that have made you better? Are there things that youre gonna come back now with like new skills because of the experience? MM: No. I will not be better than before. Because– Yeah, maybe I have more experience, but before I was 100% in physical condition, and I was fresh. People say ‘No, he will come back stronger.’ When you have an injury, of course it's— injury is an injury. When you have an injury like two, three years, you lose the rhythm, you lose the feeling sometimes. And then it's super difficult to repeat all those things. But especially because your body— I mean they say the body is super smart, it can adapt. The body is super smart to adapt to new things, but it also is smart to remember what’s going on there. So yeah. I will be different, maybe— but not better.
theres also this similar quote from jan 2023:
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theres also this recent statement from mat oxley talking about his arm and his sort of. show no weakness when it can be used against you philosophy
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SO. following with that observation. he's started also kinda. being more noncommittal and vague in interviews/presscons now that he senses blood in the water. show no weakness expose no underbelly type stuff. so theres this in preseason which is actually around the same time as the patterson interview where he's still couching it a bit but hes also very adamant that his arm is working:
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and then the BIG change comes around mugello this year, when he was fishing HARD for that ducati 2025 seat and changed his tune uh. QUITE a bit:
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finally just some posts psychoanalyzing his ass about arm/injury, MOST of which are fairly recent. here, here, here, here, here, and here. ive also aggregated some recs for content good for learning about him in general here! go with god
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geminisolstice · 2 years ago
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pac: your next glow up ★
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(one, two, three, from left to right) ☾ this is a general reading - meaning not everything might apply to you, so please only take what resonates and leave what doesn't!
PICTURE ONE ★
there's been a very limited outlook on life recently that you're slowly starting to get over. you need to realize your potential and stop wallowing in self-pity. is what you're doing truly making you happy? it's time to take a step back and reevaluate everything in your life.
there'll be a sudden creative outburst. maybe you're gonna try out a new hobby that's going to help you move forward in life, maybe you're thinking of a new creative way to make money, etc. i think some of you are gonna start using art as a way to express/cope with your feelings?
confidence! whatever you're going to start doing or whatever change you're going to make in your day-to-day routine, it's going to make you way more confident. the way you present yourself will change and more people will give you the recognition you deserve! other people pointing out your achievements will also give you a sense of self worth. sometimes we don't see what's right infront of us until other people point it out.
overall you'll be in touch with your creative side. more patient, confident, empowered and you feeling comfortable with yourself is going to help other people overcome their insecurities too! don't be afraid to talk about your journey with confidence. give some advice to the ones around you (but don't be overbearing), they'll be thankful (sooner or later haha).
some advice: don't let things stress you out anymore. start meditating, journaling or maybe start working out. try out different things to figure out what helps you release stress in a healthy way.
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PICTURE TWO ★
expanding your horizont. gaining wisdom. hit pause for a second and look at what you have achieved so far. are you satisfied with everything? what would you want to change? look inside of yourself and realize that you are enough.
you need to realize your self worth and you will! you don't even know the impact you have on other people. i think few of you realize that others do look up to you, maybe you're kind of the leader in your friend group, at home, etc. you like being in control and that's good! but you also need to able to let loose. no one's going to think less of you if you suddenly decided to have a bit more fun than you usually do (and even if they do, you shouldn't care).
yeah, that's definitely what i'm getting here. let yourself have fun. let loose! i know education/career is important, but please understand that it is not everything. never let that define you or be the foundation of your character. there's a life outside of hustling, i promise. you're going to break yourself and work or study yourself into a burn out.
i think what you need is a balanced.. routine. between having fun and studying. don't let work/education take over your life, but i don't see you guys fully immersing into the "fuck work i'm going to have fun 24/7" life style and i don't think it's going to something you'd feel comfortable with anyways. this is what i see for you guys. a balanced lifestyle. peace and quiet when you need it. i think you're going to get more inner peace, too.
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PICTURE THREE ★
first things first: i see some of you moving away, whether it's for college, your job, or maybe your entire family is moving. i think what's needed is a change of environment, which will broaden your horizon.
even those of you who are not moving: change is coming your way. it's going to scary for some of you, but this is for the better. think about the outcome. you need to welcome change in your life. stop avoiding conflicts, stop doing this stop doing that stop sabotaging yourself! change can be good. switch up your routine. eat healthy. think about what can help you in the long run.
ground yourself and think about what's really important to you. are your needs met? what's lacking in your life? are/how are you trying to overcompensate for the things you don't have right now? are you maybe suffering from heartbreak, depression or insomnia? it's not hopeless. you're not hopeless. really confront your feelings. that's the only thing i can say, but you need to internalize it. confront your feelings and sit with them. figure them out.
yeah, the glowed up version of you is different, it's welcoming change. positive change. you'll work on yourself, i can see you growing into someone that's confident, hopeful. optimistic, brave even. instead of running away from your problems, you're going to face them. you're going to help other people with what you used to be struggling with. you're going to use all the knowledge you gained to help other people grow!
you're going to look at the person you used to be and realize it was all worth it. change seems scary at first, but remember: it will always work out for you.
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s-4pphics · 1 year ago
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dial. 4 (e.w.)
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wc;cw: 5.5K, fratadjacent!ellie, all ocs r black coded<3, angst, SMUT MDNI!!!!!, finger sucking!!!, voyeurism, dirty talk, lil assplay, squirting, spit, a lil breeding kink, sextape, masturbation, more porn mentions, bussing untouched, weed, dubcon bc alcohol, pov switches bc im experimenting :p
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You returned to campus surprisingly high-spirited. 
You were arriving to class fifteen minutes early, color-coding your notes, smiling and laughing with your friends even more than you used to before shit hit the fan! It scared the shit out of all of them since the last time they saw you, snot was coming out of your nose while you sobbed your eyes out. 
Dina knocked on you and Niah’s front door the night before class with tears in her eyes, whimpering out about how terrible she felt and how she should’ve tried harder to steer you away from her best friend. Nothing was her fault; She did what anyone would, and you ignored it. She slept in your arms that night. 
When you joyfully volunteered to pay for you and Niah’s fancy dinner upon returning to campus, she grilled you, demanding to know where this change of heart came from. As if you weren’t screaming about how much you hated these hoes on FaceTime a couple of weeks ago. All you could do is shrug and laugh some more, confirming that everything would be fine. She seemed a bit skeptical when she peered at you over her glass of wine. 
Niah even volunteered to be angry with you. I’ll still beat her ass! I don’t care if you’re feeling better; I’m not! But you didn’t even want that. You developed a crush on somebody that’s a bad person, who just so happened to have amazing dick! Shit happens, and you’re over it. Sort of. 
You still have something that you need to take care of before you close this chapter of your college career. And there’s only one person who’d be willing to help you out!
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“… You want me to what.” 
Your feet tapped nervously on Abby’s hardwood floor as she gawked at you, her body lax on her couch as smoke left her mouth in a large, pale cloud. 
After Ellie exposed her and Abby’s history, you decided to pry. Abby seemed a bit confused at your eagerness to know about their relationship, but she provided some insight. They’re apparently not as close as you thought: they’ve been screwing on and off since freshman year after Abby’s partner cheated on her with someone dressed in a panda costume. What the fuck.
Abby is actually Riley’s best friend, who’s also Ellie and Dina’s really good friend whose also friends with someone named Kayla and your brain is fucking fried and you’re not even high! You don’t know any of these people!
Since when did snooping become this fucking confusing! 
Your hands fiddled nervously, “Um… well, I mean— “
“Listen,” she snickered. “You seem nice, like really fuckin’ nice, but I dunno about this. Ellie’n I aren’t… best friends or anything but—”
“I know it sounds fucking crazy! I know!” Your arms flailed, “This is really outta character for me, but… she…” 
Tears immediately jerked in your eyes as you recalled Ellie’s harsh words. This is the first time you’ve cried since you’ve been back, “She really hurt my fucking feelings. Don’t tell anyone I told you that, by the way! I just wanna…” 
“Use me to get her back?” Abby concluded, leaning over to ash her joint. 
You pouted, “… You make it sound so awful— “
“Well, I mean,” she snorted, offering you the remainder of the joint. You took it gratefully. 
You spoke around your toke, “I dunno what else to do. I don’t know anything about her. The only time I saw her slightly out of character was at the fucking party!”
Abby hummed as she listened when you exhaled. She didn’t seem… entirely off put by your suggestion, but she hasn’t said much this entire conversation. She probably thought you came here for another reason based on her appearance. Ellie and Abby were surprisingly alike. They loved themselves some fucking grey sweatpants!
Moments of silence passed as she stared at the floor with her lip between her teeth, and you knew it was over. She was thinking of a way to kick you out politely. Not only was your one chance at karma destroyed, but you might’ve cost yourself a potential friendship with Abby! You’re bound to be walking out of here without the dignity you attempted to salvage in the next five seconds. Is it hot in here or is the bud getting to you quicker than expected—
“Run the plan by me one more time?” 
You looked up at her, meeting the mischievous glint in her eyes. You choked on your last puff of the blunt and your brows raised in shock. Her index finger tapped on the back of the couch while you went through the run-down for the weekend. 
She still hasn't said anything after your second explanation, and your body flushed hot in mortification. You threw in the towel with a heavy sigh.
“Abby, I’m sorry,” you palmed your forehead, “I shouldn’t have thrown this on you. Apparently, I’m not good with strangers, either!” 
You tried to mask your incoming breakdown with an awkward chuckle as you stood to leave, “Um… yeah. I’m sorry— “
“Alright.” 
Your heart jerked in your chest.
“I’ll do it.” 
“R-Really?” 
“Mhm. Ellie never discounted when I picked up, anyway,” she spoke around her bite of a peach ring.  
You leaped from the longue chair to the couch, squealing out thank you’s and throwing your arms around her neck. You felt her hand squeeze the plush on your hip, and you shuddered above her. 
She grinned like a Cheshire and offered you her pinky. 
“Our little secret?” 
You smiled like a fox and laced yours with hers. 
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You don’t know when or how your balls dropped, but they were dangling and fucking huge. 
Did you purposefully wear your Sunday best to the Starbucks that Ellie works at? Yes! Were your titties freezing on the way over here from the cut in your sweater dress? Abso—fucking—lutely! You received so many compliments from your peers during your sociology course, though! 
Your heeled boots clanked on the tile with every step you took in the fast-paced line. You hoped Ellie could see you from the register!
It only took two minutes for you to be standing in front of the service counter, finally face-to-face with the first person you’ve ever plotted on. 
“Morning…” you gazed down at her nametag, “Ellie.” 
“… Mornin’,” Her eyes shifted, “Chai latte, extra mi—? “
You ignored the fluttering of your heart as she recited your order. 
“Actually,” your tone was honey-sweet and your smile stretched across your cheeks, “I’d like a Java Chip Frap. Extra chocolate syrup… aaand…” 
You pretended to study the menu board behind her, “A pack of Madeleines!”
She swallowed at the mention of her favorite munchie. You recall catching glimpses of her sneaking some into her pocket before her shift ended every other day. 
She cleared her throat and stared at the screen in front of her, “Anything else?” 
“No, that’s all!” 
You scanned your student card while she wrote your name on your cup. You threw the most darling, pageant-ready have an amazing day, Ellie you could muster over your shoulder. You didn’t bother to wait for her reply before strolling to the pick-up line with a newfound pep in your step. 
That was the best cold drink you’ve ever had!
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Saturday came like a freight train. Today was the day. 
Today was the fucking day! 
You were absolutely terrified; You woke up with anxiety pooled in your gut, your mind racing with hundreds of questions. 
What if something bad happens and all this plotting was for naught? What if Abby doesn’t show tonight? What if Ellie chose to just not attend the soccer house party for once? All this pent-up aggression inside you would never get released. 
You rolled your black back seam stockings while Niah curled her hair. 
“Is there a reason we're doing all this extra shit for a stingy party?” Niah asked as she removed her elastic band. 
The second you returned home from Starbucks, you dragged Niah from her bed and into the mall. This would count as your monthly splurge (auntie slid you a few extra coins)! It was vital that you looked as sexy as possible, even if it meant putting a dent in your allowance. 
“Can I not do the most for once?” Your brow arched, twiddling your fingers like an evil villain. 
“You always do the fucking most,” Niah stared blankly as she curled her ends. You giggled and skipped over to where she sat at her desk. 
“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” You cheesed. 
She rolled her eyes, “Get out my face with that gay shit, bruh— “
“I wanna kiss!”
“I dunno why you’re so excited. You know damn well that girl is gonna be there.” 
Your smile widened. She looked up at your silence with a glare, her sharp liner slicing through you as she studied your face. 
“Did y’all fucking make up?” 
“Not at all,” you hummed. 
She didn’t let up, her eyes squinting at you before they doubled in size. 
“Oh my god…” 
“What.” 
“YOU’RE FUCKING SOMEBODY ELSE!” She sprung out of her desk seat, almost dropping her curling iron. “No wonder you’ve been acting so fucking weird— “
“What’s weird about being happ— “
She squealed in excitement, “Shut up! Who is it! Who’s tearing them organs up— “ 
“NIAH! Nobody’s tearing anythi— “
“CALL FROM: ABBY SMILING FACE WITH HEARTS SMILING FACE— “
Siri, followed by your ringtone, blared through your speaker. 
Niah slowly peered over at your desk before looking back at you.
“… And who the fuck is Abby?” 
By the look in her eye, she must’ve already known. 
Oh fuck. 
“U-Uh— “
Niah sprinted towards your desk before you could stop her, snatching your device and answering despite your anxious protests and grabs for it. 
“Yes, hello. Are you smashing my— “
“NIAH! STOP!” You were able to wrangle your phone out of Niah’s grasp, speaking over her shouts of just two whores fornicating!
You could hear Abby snickering, “So much for a secret.” 
“I’m sorry! I can't beat her intuition. Or Siri!”
“You’re cute,” Her voice was like butter, “Just checkin’ to see if we’re still on.” 
Whores! Whores, I tell you! Boutta sweat my wig off! Niah hollered, finally resigning and leaning against your desk. 
“Yeah, we are. Unless you don’t wanna— “
“Shut it. I want to.” 
A shudder wracked through you at the drawl of her tone. Niah shook her head, and you bucked at her with a threatening stare. 
“Okay. I’ll see you soon?” 
“See you soon.” 
The two of you gently farewelled and hung up. You turned to see Niah shamefully shaking her head at you. 
“I’ve seen a lot of shit in my lifetime,” she started, “I’ve never, in all my years, seen anyone fuck their side piece’s side piece.” 
… Were you really the only one who didn’t know that Ellie and Abby canoodled? 
Your eyes rolled, “You’re so fucking dramatic.” 
She reached behind her and grabbed two nips of 1800, tossing one in your direction, almost cracking you in the face with the plastic bottle. 
“You’re gonna need that shit. Harlot.” 
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The soccer house was on one; They knew how to fucking throw a not-Christmas party! 
You prayed with every fiber of your drunk being that the feds wouldn’t show up as you threw it back on Niah as Dina grabbed your titties. Tequila’s the devil and coaxes sluttery! 
Drake always sounds more talented when you’re fucked up. Good on him! 
Eyes were burning through your body and you showed out for them. 
Until you felt your phone vibrate in your fucking bra you can’t have shit in this house! —
You irritatingly pulled it out of your bra, leaning on Dina’s shoulder to read your message from… Abby, oh fuck fuck fuck—
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You smirked and searched the dark room for your new pretty friend. A moan almost left your throat when you saw her standing by the counter packed with liquor… in a muscle tee that read DO MILFS, NOT DRUGS. And a lollipop stick in her mouth. 
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Your brows furrowed in confusion when you locked eyes with Abby. She nodded behind you with a grin. 
You peered over your shoulder and instantly regretted it. 
Ellie was standing against the wall in a flannel and beanie, yet another girl pressed up against her while she smoked. And stared at you. Stared hard at you. Were those the eyes you felt seconds ago? Pride exploded in your chest at the thought. 
… But how long has she fucking been standing there, and why didn’t you fucking notice? You’re never touching Tequila again! 
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You shot another text to Abby before shutting your phone off, watching her squeeze through the crowd to get over to your little group. 
“Okay, baby?” Dina shouted in your ear over the music as she rubbed your back. You nodded, keeping your eyes on the blonde girl. 
Abby popped up behind Dina, tapping her shoulder to greet the girl that was propping you up. Abby whispered something to her, and Dina’s grip loosened around your waist. You smiled when Abby presented in front of you, throwing your arms around her neck to keep yourself steady. 
You barely heard Niah’s shouts of whore alert before Abby leaned down to connect your lips. The shots she had mixed with her cherry-flavored chapstick and apple lollipop as her mouth caressed yours, calls of oh shit from partygoers around you drowning your head. The attention made you kiss her deeper, your tongue easing into her mouth as people hooted around you. 
Abby’s strong arms wrapped around your waist to hold you to her strong chest, her sneaky hands crawling down to grab your ass through your dress. You moaned into the kiss, lacing your fingers through her curled locks. 
She tightened her hold on your hips and spun you, a thin line of drool connecting your lips before your back met her chest. You held onto a shocked Dina’s hips while you threw it on Abby, your back arched while she thrusted into your ass. 
Niah, ever the sweetheart, slapped it encouragingly, your hips pushing further onto Abby until she grabbed your shoulder and hauled you back up, her large arm enclosing around your throat. You felt her messily kissing your neck and up your ear, and your eyes fluttered open. 
Don’tlookatEllieDon’tlookatEllieDon’tlookatEllie—
You did everything in your power to ignore her harsh stare, pulling Niah’s hips back on yours, exposing more space on your neck for Abby to suck, anything anything anything! Don’t fucking look at her!
“Ready?” Abby shouted in your ear. 
Thank god for Abby; You were this close to looking at her. 
You nodded, and she whisked you upstairs after you blew your friends' kisses. 
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Why the fuck was Ellie fuming in this dark corner? 
Not only did you blow the fuck out of her high, but you decided to do it with someone she considered a… she doesn’t fucking know. Someone close enough for it to feel like a betrayal!
And you looked so fucking sexy in the act. 
The person chewing on her neck must think that the squirms she’s trying to cover are because of them. They weren’t, not when you’re around dancing like money is getting thrown all over you. 
How did you manage to get her so fucking horny with absolutely no interaction? You looked at her once since you’ve arrived. She could bet every cent in her bank account that you’re a witch! The sluttiest, sex-obsessed witch with good pussy. Not to mention, you’re so fucking sweet. 
Well, you used to be.
Ellie’s never seen this wild side of you. You’re always structured and organized and sweet like fucking honey. Somebody will get a cavity if they get too close to you. She can attest. 
All she could do was watch you and Abby trek upstairs with interlocked hands, something nasty stabbing in her gut at the sight. She knows she’s a hypocrite. A disgusting, vile hypocrite with the audacity to feel negatively about you seeing someone else. She’s fucked up and she’s horny and she wants you. Fuck, you have such good pussy. 
And the prettiest brown eyes. Fuck, fuck fuck fuck—
She hasn’t seen eyes that gorgeous since she fucking moved away for school. Since the last time she saw her. 
Seconds, minutes, it felt like hours went by as she replayed every interaction the two of you have had since you met. Sex, sex, sex, you trying to get closer, her getting upset at you trying, sex. More good— great sex. You're pulling the leash you have on her with your cunt, for fucks sake. 
She doesn’t know how long she’s been standing off to the side, but the person that fucked up her neck disappeared. Probably took too long to fucking react because she’s too busy thinking about how tight your cunt chokes her dick. 
What the fuck were you and Abby doing? Ellie knows she’s a fucking hypocrite. 
She pulls her device out of her pocket to ease her stress, but her stomach plummets when she sees a message from Abby. 
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Ellie’s such a fucking, goddamn hypocrite. 
She forces herself through the crowd and scurries up the stairs like the floors on fire, ducking and dodging drunk students that were in her path until she stood at the top of the steps.
She instantly hears you over the booming bass. A choked scoff leaves her before anything, your pleased cries ringing through her eardrums like a church bell, and she almost loses it in the middle of the hallway. She’s getting so wet and your moans are getting higher in pitch and she knows you're about to cum. Why’s she out of breath and pissed and drenched to hell?
The door’s right there. 
She takes a couple steps until she’s facing it, her hand resting on the knob. You always asked her to keep all entries open when she fucked you outside. You’re just as gross as she is. 
One twist and it’s over. 
She’s such a fucking hypocrite. 
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Whoever owns this bed is going to need a new mattress. You’ve never been this wet in your life. 
Is it gross that staring into Ellie’s shocked, glossy eyes are making your pussy squeeze down on Abby’s dick? Even after all the bullshit she’s done, she still makes you drip like a faucet. Shame on you and your cunt. 
S—it down, you whimpered, and Abby chuckled. 
Abby’s harsh thrusts slowed when you cracked out your command, a harsh slap landing on your ass, and the arch in your back deepened. Ellie exhaled a harsh breath and shut the door behind her, her body falling against the wood due to her wobbling legs. The more you inspected her bruised chest, the angrier you became. Who was she trying to fuck now? A nasty smile grew on your face at the sight of her in complete disbelief. 
Abby pulled out until just the tip was inside before slamming her entire length back into you, your jaw slackening when an oh, fuck escape you and Ellie. You hardly recognized your own voice. 
Her eyes left yours and stared behind you, your core squeezing when her fists clenched at her sides and eyes darkened. 
S-Sit down. Be a good girl’n sit d-down, you whimpered, your walls squeezing on the silicone. 
She looked down at you again, her cheeks tinting a darker shade of red whenever you addressed her. Your glare hardened when she didn’t listen, and her body cowered, eyes sparkling before pushing herself off the wall and onto the small lounge chair at the front of the room so she was facing you. 
Ellie’s hands were fiddling in her lap as she took the scene of you: liner and glitter running down your cheeks in a heap of tears, bruised neck and tits pressed against her friend’s ruffled sheets, your ass bruised to hell. She could see your slick and cum glistening on Abby’s cock under the dim lamp of the room. Her boxers were a mess. 
Such a sexy little pornstar, isn’t she, El?
Ellie wanted to cry when you and Abby laughed lightly. This is the first time she’s been speechless when it came to anything related to fucking. She loves sex, but she’s always, always, in control no matter what. The lack of ability she had over the situation made her throat dry and clit throb. She’d never admit it, though. 
W-Wanted t’make me a pornstar so bad? You spat shakily. You’re gonna sit there’n record Abby f-fucking me. 
Ellie’s breathing increased at the demand. You always looked so fucking sexy on camera. A natural vixen, you are. She’s never been this wet. Fuck, fuck, please—
Take your phone out, El, Abby encouraged with a sly smirk, You know how wet this pussy gets on cam. 
Ellie’s body didn’t feel like hers, like her soul was floating above her physical form. She heard the soft platplatplat of your ass clapping on Abby’s hips before she realized the two of you were fucking again, your loud cries chiming through the spacious area. Your pussy sounded so fucking wet. 
Atta fuckin’ girl, tha’s my girl, c’mon, Abby groaned while she watched your cunt milk her dick. She would give anything to cum in you. See her cum flow out of you like water. Breed you fucking full. 
She couldn’t take her eyes away from your ass. The movement of it was hypnotizing and it was bruising beautifully. She almost retrieved her own phone from her jean pocket to take a picture for herself. Almost. 
Ellie’s arm moved on autopilot, her fingers digging in her pocket for her device. You caught a glimpse of the flashlight she accidentally turned on in your haze, and smiled, fucking back onto Abby to meet her thrusts. You kept your eyes on Ellie as she held her phone up, the quiet blip indicating that she was recording. 
Your eyes flickered from Ellie’s heaving chest to the two small lenses in the corner of her phone, your back arching deeper so that she could get a good look at your ass rippling from each thrust. Your nails dug into the duvet every time Abby brushed against your cervix, her dick plunging into your squishy cunt. 
S-She’s fucking me s’good, Ellie, fuuuck—
Your babbles were sloppy and nearly intelligible, mumbled together in a fast, wet muss of your tongue. You couldn’t think about anything except Abby’s dick and Ellie’s fucking camera. You couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling back every time your eyes passed over the lens. Ellie was right; Maybe you were meant for porn. 
Ellie… ugh, shit! C’merecomehere—
Ellie looked like a newborn deer trying to walk when she got up and stood directly in front of your sweaty, fucked out form. Her camera was right in front of your face, and a hazy, drooly smile made its way onto your face. You could feel your impending orgasm sizzling all the way down to your toes. 
M’gonna squirt, fuck, thinkI’mgonnasquirt!—
Both girls moaned aloud at your squealed warning, Ellie’s thighs squeezing right in front of your face. Her hands were shaking around her phone and… her fucking hands are so sexy—
Your pussy was in agreement; The squelching sounds of your wet walls got louder with your moans, your screams flying off the walls with Abby’s, your eyes glued on Ellie’s long fucking fingers and the veins in her hands—
Your tongue lolled out of your mouth and licked over all four of the digits clenched over her device. She squealed in shock but you didn’t care, pulling away with your tongue out like a dog, eyes begging for her to fuck your throat with them. 
Ellie held her phone with her dominant hand and dragged two wet fingers over the flat of your tongue, angling her phone so that the way your throat closed around them was captured. Ellie was whimpering to herself and desperate to fucking cum. Was she crazy or was she about to nut from you gagging and drooling all over your hand? She’s crazy; She has to be fucking crazy—
Her walls were squeezing so hard in her jeans; She might actually fucking cum. She’s a goner, fuck fuck fuck—
Milk her fingers like you're milking this dick, baby, that’s it, Abby moaned out before releasing a line of drool on your ass and rubbing it in with her thumb. You choked around Ellie’s thrusting fingers, eyes crossing in your head while your pussy cried. And squeezed so hard, Abby almost couldn’t move. You felt your juices leave you in a light spray as Abby announced her orgasm, squealing about how swollen you’re going to be with her cum. You’re cumming, you’re cumming so fucking hard—
Your head dropped onto the edge of the mattress, Ellie’s spit coated fingers ripping from your mouth and you screamed, your cum drenching the bed and Abby’s dick and waist, your clit jumping with every pulse of your walls. You couldn’t keep yourself upright any longer, falling completely flat onto the bed as your body thrashed from pleasure you could hardly bear. Abby’s body laid flat on top of yours so she could force her dick deeper into you, fuck more cum out of you and milk the last bit of her orgasm.
You sobbed from the intensity, but Abby didn’t stop until your hand flew back to push her off you. She planted one wet kiss on the back of your neck before gently pulling out. Your thighs were still shaking and your clit was twitchy, but you felt so good. 
And so much better. 
It took a minute for your teary eyes to peel open. Ellie was crouched down on the floor with her knees to her chest, heavy breaths and light whines leaving her mouth while her lashes fluttered. 
Abby chuckled behind you, landing one playful smack on your ass before leaning over your form to whisper in your ear. 
Think she came when you did, She snickered.
A breathy giggle left you. Ellie couldn’t meet your eyes, hers glued to the hardwood. 
Your auntie was right; Maybe revenge was the way to go. 
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You shut the bathroom door and made your way back to the bedroom, where a dazed Ellie was sitting on the bed. 
Abby left with a see you soon and a kiss on the cheek, leaving you and Ellie alone to suffocate in silence. She looked lost in thought as her finger tapped on her thigh, her teeth digging into the dry skin of her lip. You breathed heavily before walking to tower over her. 
“I want you to send me the video,” you spoke stoically, nothing bothering to wait for her to speak.
She nervously met your eyes for the first time since you orgasmed, eyes glossy like a puppy getting scolded, before grabbing her phone from where she tossed it on the bed. She shakily tapped a few times before your device vibrated in your hand. 
“Now delete it. Delete everything. Every video, every Snap. All of it,” your voice was sharper than a blade. 
You loomed over her as she scrolled through all of your memories together, your cheeks warming at the sound of your moans and cries of her name, watching closely as she trashed all the footage of the two of you fucking since you met. 
Whenever you were confident that no evidence remained, you ensured she would never hit your line again. 
“Block me, Ellie. On everything.”
She exhaled shakily before doing so on every platform and line of communication. You spun on your heel when she finished without another word, heart heavy, leaving the room and shutting the door behind you to retreat back to the lively environment downstairs. 
You deleted Ellie’s contact information when you reached the bottom of the steps. 
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Ellie was absolutely distraught. And the horniest she’s ever been in her fucking life. 
She refused to move from her spot on the bed until a couple shoved into her friend’s room, eager to rip each other’s clothes off. She had too little and enough sex for tonight. She cringed when she got up and felt her cum squishing in her boxers. 
… She can’t believe she busted from just your tongue on her hand like a fucking loser. 
She didn’t bother to wait for Jesse and the rest of the soccer team like normal, opting to walk home and regain some peace of mind. The cold shocked her body when she stepped outside of the packed house, the melting ice crunching under her sneakers. 
Much to her dismay, she thought about you the entire stroll. Her mind raced, flooding with images of you getting absolutely destroyed by Abby. And looking up at her while you sucked the life out of her fingers. And your sparkly fucking eyes whenever you laughed at something stupid and unfunny she said. 
She fucked up, she fucked up so bad. 
Anxiety was stirring in her gut all the way up to her and Jesse’s apartment. 
Ellie hoped you wouldn’t be too mad at her when everyone returned to campus, but she felt vicious, unfiltered rage radiating off your body when you loomed over her. The disappointment she was so used to seeing after turning you down was replaced by disdain, and it made bile rise in her throat. Your composure used to impress her, but now she was terrified of it. 
You actually fucking hated her. 
Dina mentioned how she might’ve awakened something that you tried to keep hidden, but she didn’t care enough to listen. 
Ellie didn’t intend to hurt your feelings, but she did want to keep you at a distance. You were caught in a crossfire you never needed to be in, and she didn’t do enough to stop you from getting hit. 
She sees so much of her past in you. The moments of eagerness and joy and elation she felt in her younger years, it all crashed into her the second she stared into your eyes for too long. She almost saw roses blooming in them. She grew to despise your optimism very quickly. 
Ellie shoved her key so hard into their door she thought she bent it, ripping it open and slamming it shut. All her weight fell against the wall and she sighed. Her head was pounding and so was her clit. 
You’re so fucking hot. What the fuck. 
Her hands ran down her face in exasperation before she kicked her shoes off, unbuttoning and removing her jeans and soaked boxers. 
She slid down the door and squatted, her fingers instantly finding her twitching clit. She sighed at the sensation before dipping her digits lower, pushing past her entrance and collecting her juices to bring back to her rosy bud. She alternated between rubbing and fucking into herself, moaning into the dark space of the living room. 
She couldn’t unsee… you. Everything about you. Your scars, the dark hairs of your furrowed brows, your plump, wet lips slobbering all the way down her wrists. The deeper she reached, the hotter she became, her sweaty bangs clinging to her forehead. 
A-Abby, fuck me h-harder, please? 
Am I a good girl? M’your good girl?
M’so wet, oh god!
You fuck me t-the best! Yeah, yes yeah—
Your voice was the only thing ringing through her empty brain. Anyone would’ve been embarrassed, disgusted, traumatized by what you and Abby did. The two of you shattered her completely, breaking down every barrier she built for herself for so long. Distance was no longer her priority; She wanted to be in between the two of you so fucking bad. 
She was already so close, so close to tipping over, to wetting her fucking floor, all because of you. Fuck, she fucked up; Was it too late to tell her you were the best— one of the best she’s ever had? She has to protect her pride somehow, even if it’s pointless. 
She dug into her cunt harder, grinding her fingers into the spot that made her see stars, sent her to fucking heaven. Your name left her mouth in an almost manic cry, whimpering the syllables over and over again until she crashed, legs closing around her wrist when her pleasure shook her form. She shoved three unoccupied fingers into her mouth and swallowed around them, fucking her throat and her cunt at the same time, trying to replicate the feeling of your tongue on her again.
She almost cried when the sensation wasn’t the same. Nothing felt like your mouth, your tongue, and it sent a painful jolt in her heart. 
She came down and finally allowed her tears to fall, barely having the strength to ride out the last bits of her pleasure before she slumped onto the floor. Sobs escaped her in choked gasps. She’s a fucking idiot to be crying over you. Over the little twinkles in your eyes whenever you’re excited. 
Ellie’s a heartless, ungrateful hypocrite, and she ruined her billionth chance at redemption. 
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ellie got bitched LMMMFAOOOOO
this is not a love triangle!!! or is it
jk its not lol
taggie waggies love yall down :3 @dyk3ang3l @iced-metal @sawaagyapong @kittnii @mariefilms @villainousbear @pick-me-up-im-scared @dragonasflowercrown @elsmissingfingers @bugaboodarling @freakumfilm @robinismywifee @ohitsjordynn @womenofarcane @inf3ct3dd @nil-eena @kaispaws @letsreadsomesins-shallwe @yuckyfucky @machetegirl109 @ximtiredx @mattm1964 @liabadoobee @tfuuka @aouiaa @lastofvenus
teaser, one, two, three, five
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afyrian · 4 months ago
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line five - the switch up m.list
    "good morning line two! so, what would you like to talk it out about with me today?" your legs cross in your seat, a giddy smile on your face. 
  eyes glancing to the sound booth, sakusa's looking down at his gear. his hair falls forward into the same perfect swirls from the night before, only this time hairs slightly stick out from a night of rest. for the first time with him in the booth, you feel comfortable, relaxed. to the point of almost missing the caller's entire story.
  "-so i told him, what the hell! because seriously, who the hell goes on a date with someone and then talks about his ex the whole time? sorry eliza left you for some bodybuilder, but you are on a date with someone! then he told me that i'm being inconsiderate of his feelings," a young woman, probably a few years younger than you, vents on air.
  there's a tone of distress in her voice, one that carries with every word she says, "like, i'm a people pleaser and so suddenly i feel bad. even though in retrospect i probably shouldn't, right?"
  "well, caller, my rule of thumb is to never talk about an ex while on a date. sure, if you're in a long term relationship and you have fears regarding how you were treated in a previous one, then bring that up. but on a first date? just talk about your dream career or something," you grab ahold of a pen, tapping it against the table.
  "but you shouldn't have to feel bad about bringing up the fact that him talking about an ex is disrespectful to you and your time," taking in a deep breath, you can feel something inside of you want to turn your attention to sakusa again. 
  something about him intrigues you, past becoming friendly enough to do your job. talking to him the night before felt freeing. like you could talk about anything with him. 
  "i told atsumu that there was no way i would join his talk show. i love the dude but i was not going to talk about my 'late night rebounds' with him on the air," your elbow leans against the table, chin resting in your hand, eyes stuck staring into sakusa's. 
  sakusa nods, taking a bit of cake that was still left on his plate, "trust me, you are not the only victim of atsumu miya's talk show. he somehow convinced me to join his show for a day as his 'special guest'. most embarrassing moment of my life and i'm actually glad they forced me onto your show."
  "i'm glad too," you simply say, smiling at him until you feel your heart racing quicker, "that they forced you onto my show too, since you are a phenomenal sound engineer."
  "right," he agrees, turning his head away as you compliment him. 
  you’re brought back to the world when the girl laments about how you’re probably right. the only issue being that she’s already apologized to the man, nearly planning a second date with him. your jaw drops as you listen to her, head leaning forward and resting against the palms of your hands. “should i message him again? tell him that what he did was unacceptable?” 
  “no, your conversation has ended. bringing him back into your life will only prolong your discomfort, you know?” you ask, trying to appear more personable, knowing the way you’ve been speaking has been more clinical, “save your own peace and move on.”
  she pauses for a moment, your foot tapping incessantly against the flooring. “yeah… you’re probably right. none of my friends really got my problem so talking to someone is comforting,” the caller laughs, a quiet and gentle laugh. 
  waiting until she hangs up, your finger hovers over the laptop, a song waiting to play. “well, now that we understand setting boundaries a little better, let’s play a song. i’m thinking today we’ll give ‘misses’ by dominic fike, a listen,” you start the song, gaze flickering back to sakusa for only a second.
  staring back at the light indicating your mic is on, it turns off, giving you the opportunity to get up and stretch your legs. pushing back from the table, you make your way to sakusa, your hands resting in your pockets. walking up to the sound booth door, you lean against the doorframe. there he sits, staring down at his phone.
  “uh, would you want to grab some coffee while the song plays? i have a couple extra songs ready in case it takes us a minute,” you crack the door open, talking to him with a smile across your lips.
  sakusa looks up at you, his eyebrows furrowing. instead of accepting your invitation, he shakes his head, lips pursed, “one of us should be here in case something happens. plus i’m not really feeling like coffee right now.”
  his attention immediately returns to his phone, his headphones propped up on his ears. you can feel your face scrunch up into a disgusted expression. the last night was nice, talking to him was nice. and now he’s acting like you didn’t bore your life plans and dreams to him. that the two of you didn’t have a genuine connection the night before. 
  stepping back from the door, you take in a deep breath, shaking your head. a part of you wants to believe that it’s merely him being tired, even hungover. however, you nearly catch his gaze as he looks back up at you, a sullen feeling boring into you. 
a/n: happy birthday jade!! 🎉 taglist (open): @eggyrocks @causenessus @applepi25 @softpia @bakery-anon
@jadeoru @yessimo @lale-txt @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @sugacor3
@quikhs @todorokiskitten @mollyrolls @honeyfewr @pookiebearcave
@phoenix-eclipses @madiexuberant @kameyyy @cr4yolaas @asrichin
@bakugouswh0r3 @bakingcuriosity @zazathezaer @diorzs
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writing-until-i-drop · 6 months ago
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Wildflowers For A Hangman Ch. 4
Summary:
Daisy, a career novelist, moves in with her college best friend Phoenix who has been permanently assigned to Top Gun with Dagger Squad. She finds herself instantly connected with a cocky pilot who's soft only for her and Jake can't help but want to know everything about her. When the past comes knocking at both of their doors, will they stand together or fall apart?
Or: The Dagger Squad can't cook and Jake falls in love with a woman who makes a mean lasagna while they work their personal trauma.
Jake "Hangman" Seresin x writer!femOC | 18+ (eventually) minors dni. Fluff, smut (eventual), idiots in love, past trauma.
A/N: Cassandra isn't speaking to Daisy and her work suffers but a call from her brother should make everything better, right?
AO3 Link
Previous Chapter
Cassandra wasn’t cooperating today and I knew better than to try and force it. Instead, I tried my hand at writing something overtly and didn’t make it a full page before scrapping the entire project. I’d had a few boyfriends before but none of them had given me the foot-popping, sparks-flying, kind of romance people wrote about. 
In a desperate attempt to get something done, I wrote a few paragraphs more of an abandoned project about a kid detective trying to solve the theft of a neighbor’s lawn gnome. It wasn’t my most inspired piece of work, one of the many reasons Jason had told me to drop it, but it felt good to write something. 
After completely throwing in the towel, I cleaned the apartment and made a double batch of M&M cookies, snacking on the chocolate candies as I went. Once the kitchen was cleaned again, I realized that I had made enough cookies to feed an army without an army to feed. 
Daisy: Movie night at our place with the daggers? 
Daisy: I may have stress baked
After an hour, Natasha responded affirmatively and I decided to run to the store for more snacks. While debating between Dorito flavors, my phone rang, Harvey’s picture flashing on the screen.
“Hey, Harv,” I greeted him, adding both bags of chips to my cart. “How are my girls?” 
“Driving me crazy as usual,” Harvey laughed and I felt a bit lighter inside. There had been a point in our childhoods where I felt resentful that Harvey could be so happy but my therapist and a healthy dose of prescriptions had helped me past that. “How’s life in California?” 
“Hot,” I joked. “The sun’s insufferable but it’s good to be living with Tasha again. She’s got some great friends that I bribed with cookies into accepting me as one of them.” 
“Of course you did, your cookies could broker world peace.” I chuckled, waiting for Harvey to cut to the chase as I continued to throw all the snack foods I could find into the cart including frozen pizzas and chicken wings. “August is coming to an end.” There it was. I sighed but stayed silent, “How are you doing, DeeDee?” 
“I’ve already scheduled the flowers to be sent to their graves and-” 
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” 
“I’m fine, Harv. I’m keeping busy, trying not to think about it.” Something fell behind me and I nearly jumped out of my skin, white-knuckling the cart. It was like a switch flipped, all of my nerves lighting on fire, the acute paranoia I’d worked so hard to rid myself of sprinting to the forefront of my mind. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as Harvey’s voice faded into a soft buzzing. Was someone watching me? No, no one was watching me. I tried to shake off the feeling, moving at a snail’s pace through the aisle. I looked down at my feet and I could have sworn I saw red despite the canvas being black. 
“Daisy?” I heard my name through the fog, “Daisy Louise? DeeDee, you’re okay. You’re okay, everything’s okay, DeeDee.” Harvey. Harvey was calling for me. Where was he? I had to get to him. “I’m okay, DeeDee. I’m safe.” The fog pulled away and I was on the floor of the frozen aisle, my phone beside me. 
“Harvey?” 
“I’m here, I’m alright, DeeDee.” He soothed, “Are you okay?” I grabbed the phone, tucking my head between my knees.
“I’m okay, Harv. I just…”
“I know, it’s okay. It’s normal but you should call Natasha and have her pick you up.” That was completely off of the table. I could handle this by myself, all I needed to do was get to my feet and everything would be okay. “I love you, DeeDee.”
“I love you too, Harvey.” I sat on the floor with my head in my hands for a few seconds after hanging up, evening out my breathing until I didn’t think I was going to pass out anymore. I struggled my way through checkout, my mind drifting and then snapping back to reality with everyone off-kilter sound I heard or thought I heard. But when my hands were shaking too hard to put the keys in the ignition, I put my pride inside and called Tasha. 
“Phoenix’s phone,” Coyote picked up and I nearly ended the call, “Daisy?” 
“Is Tasha there?” Fuck, I sounded like I had been crying. My voice wavered, full of emotion.
“She’s in the air, what’s wrong, Daisy?” Coyote was all business and I appreciated him for it.
“It’s fine, nevermind,” I even failed at convincing myself that things were fine. Coyote sighed then replied in a soft, quiet voice.
“Daisy, Nat told me that sometimes you have anxiety attacks. Is that what happened?” Damn it. Natasha had helped me through more than her fair share of them in college, it only made sense that she would tell someone important to her like Coyote.
“You can’t tell anyone,” I sighed, “I just, I’m at the grocery store and I don’t know if I should be driving home like this.” I heard Jake’s voice in the background and tensed, “Don’t tell Hangman.” Coyote chuckled,
“Yes, ma’am. Alright, there’s two ways this can go. I can ask Mav for permission to come get you or I can call Penny.” Neither option sounded preferable. “Penny’s going to ask a lot of questions because she’s a mom and then she’s going to tell Mav anyways. I will ask no questions because I’ve already got an idea of what’s going on.” 
“As long as Mav’s the only extra person in the loop,” I relented. “And Javy? Thanks.” 
Javy showed up in his flight suit not long after and I was distracted for a second by just how handsome he was. Natasha’s taste in men had gotten a lot better since college.
“Do you want to stop for food on the way back? Sugar will make you feel better after an adrenaline dump like that.” I nodded, thanking him again for showing up. “You’re part of the squad now, Daisy, no thanks necessary.” The sentiment warmed my heart, a soft smile appearing despite the embarrassing situation. 
“Can we get Wendy’s? It’s my favorite.” A spicy chicken nugget and a Dr. Pepper sounded amazing right now. Javy messed my hair like a big brother,
“Whatever you want.” After a few minutes of listening to the radio in silence, Javy glanced over at me. “So, what do you think of Hangman?” 
“What do you think of Tasha?” I shot back, not expecting him to answer but he took me by surprise.
“She’s one hell of a woman and a fantastic pilot.” Javy grinned like a lovesick idiot and I found myself smiling too, “I’m lucky she gives me the time of day if I’m being honest.” He glanced over at me again, still smiling and I rolled my eyes. “Your turn.” 
“Hangman’s a flirtatious ass,” Javy barked with laughter, pulling into the Wendy’s. “But Jake’s nice and he listens to me when I go on my rants about random shit. Like, I swear he probably listened to me talk about Sherlock Holmes for an hour the other night.” 
“Hour and a half,” Javy snickered, “We timed it.” I couldn’t even be mad, laughing with him.
“Not even Tasha would let me go on like that! So yeah, I think Jake’s pretty great.” I brushed my hair into my eyes to hide my blush, “Anyways, I’ll take a spicy number ten with a Dr. Pepper, please.” 
“Do you want a frosty too?” Yep. Natasha’s taste in men had definitely improved.
After cooing over me like a mother hen and calling Harvey to let him know I was okay, Natasha took Harvey to get his car. After taking a shower and finishing the large frosty Javy bought me even when I told him not to, I felt a lot better. Well enough to respond to the texts Jake had been sending me. 
Jake: Everything okay? 
Jake: Coyote told me to mind my business and that you were fine but I want to hear it from you
Jake: Phoenix also told to mind my business
Jake: Honey I need to hear it from you
Jake: If you don’t text me in ten minutes I’m coming over
I rolled my eyes but the butterflies in my stomach took flight, swirling in delight that Jake was concerned for me. 
Daisy: Listen to Javy, pretty boy. I’m fine
Jake: Too late
“If this boy isn’t careful, I’m going to fall in love with him,” I whispered to the empty kitchen, ripping open a packet of M&Ms. 
X
“Hey,” Daisy greeted me with a lazy smile, throwing back a palmful of M&Ms. Something was off about her but I couldn’t put my finger on it just yet. I was going to figure it out though, you could bet on that. 
“Hey, Wildflower. How are you feeling?” She rolled her eyes like she didn’t have a care in the world but her shoulders tensed. Coyote had been tight lipped over why he had left work early but with how both he and Phoenix were acting, I knew it had to be Daisy and that had spun me up into a twister of anxiety that eased a little seeing her.
“I told you I was fine, see?” She gestured down her body. Daisy was in cartoon pajama shorts that showed off her pale thighs and a tank top, her endless curves on display from top to bottom. I swallowed hard, my mind filled with thoughts of running my hands over her hips, spreading her knees, and eating Daisy for dessert on Phoenix’s counter. “I’m perfectly fine.” 
“You look fine as hell, sweetheart,” Daisy blushed hard, her chest and cheeks burning red. “But you know it’s not your body I’m asking about.” I crossed the room, needing to put my hands on her even if I shouldn’t.
“Okay, Hangman,” She grumbled, using my callsign like she always did when I said something flirty. My hands landed softly on her hip and her cheek, forcing her to stay close and look at me. Daisy relaxed, eyes fluttering shut. “I’ll be fine, Jake,” She whispered and I felt myself melt. This girl had no idea that I was putty in her hands.
“Of course you will be,” I promised, “Because I’m going to be right here by your side.” Daisy smiled, eyes still closed, nuzzling her cheek like a cat into my hand.
“You’re laying it on pretty thick again, Hangman.” God this girl. She didn’t believe a word that came out of my mouth if it veered even the slightest bit away from platonic. I had my work cut out for me but when she opened her dark eyes and smiled at me like I hung the stars and the moon, I knew I was up to the task. “Do you want a cookie?” What I wanted was to kiss her forehead but a cookie would work for now. 
The rest of the daggers showed up a little bit later and while Daisy played the role of the perfect hostess, I pulled Coyote off to the side. 
“Should I be worried?” Coyote glanced over my shoulder to where Daisy was and then shrugged.
“I don’t think so, at least, not at the moment anyways.” My heart clenched, needing to know more but he shook his head before I could ask. “Nothing about this situation is my business to share, man. When she’s ready to tell, she’ll tell.” 
“We should watch a horror movie,” Bradley suggested, the loud agreement of the squad interrupting our conversation. Coyote patted me on the shoulder, heading for the kitchen. When she was ready to tell, she would tell me. I had to trust that that would be the case. Right? 
“Hangman, get some food before Bob eats it all!” Rooster shouted for my attention. Bob was blushing with a plate piled high with food, praising Daisy’s homemade mac and cheese so that’s what I scooped up first. I didn’t miss how Phoenix was hovering behind Daisy, watching her like a hawk. I said a little prayer, hoping that Daisy would find the right moment to tell me what was going on sooner rather than later.
With a plate full of snacks, we all scattered around the living room. Daisy came right to me with a blanket, a blush on her cheeks, not looking me in the eyes as she took a seat beside me. She was the one person without a plate of food and turned me down when I offered her some of my chips,
“I’m not hungry,” She whispered, bringing the blanket up to her chin. “Javy got me Wendy’s.” He was Javy to her now? I glanced over at my best friend, who was not so subtly making eyes at Phoenix while she and Rooster argued over what horror movie we were going to watch. Rooster won when he threatened to tell a story that had Phoenix slapping a hand over his mouth.
It ended up being about some demon who was influencing people to murder others but the special effects weren’t all that believable. I much preferred a 90s action flick or, when alone, a Hallmark movie on occasion. With every passing minute, Daisy inched closer to my side, the blanket moving higher up her face. Seizing the opportunity, I dropped my plate on the table and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, bringing her close. 
“Not a fan of horror?” I whisper, she shook her head, eyes locked on the screen as the possessed man picked up a hunting knife. 
“Murder,” She whispered back, her hand tentatively resting on my thigh.
“Aren’t you a crime novelist, sweetheart?” I teased, trying to ignore how good it felt to have her hands on me.
“That’s different,” Daisy insisted, jumping at something on screen but I wasn’t watching the movie anymore, my focus was solely on her. Daisy looked terrified. I shifted sideways and pulled her face into my chest, forcing her attention off of the movie and whatever it was that was scaring her so much. Her hand moved from my thigh to my chest, fingers digging into my shirt. 
“It’s okay, I’ve got you, baby,” I whispered into her hair, kissing her head. “It’s just a movie.” Daisy went limp in my hold and I pulled her sideways onto my lap, Bob looked and quickly looked away but it didn’t seem like anyone else noticed. Not that I would care if they did, if this was what Daisy needed, then it’s what I was going to do. I squeezed her thigh gently and began stroking my thumb back and forth, “I’ve got you.” 
“I know,” Daisy whispered into my shoulder. After a moment she added, “If I’m too heavy-” She stopped when I squeezed her thigh,
“You can sit on my lap whenever you want, Wildflower.” 
“My gentleman,” She sighed and I felt a glimmer of hope. She didn’t call me Hangman.
Next Chapter
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burnyourtrains · 7 months ago
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SDV Bachelor/ette Headcanons!!
I was peer pressured by @jessibbb into posting these <3 (also I'm on mobile so if it looks bad no it doesn't.)
ALso divider credits to the lovely @thecutestgrotto and @saradika
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Done in alphabetical order, because we're not playing favorites here
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Bachelors:
Alex
I feel like he was into band when he was younger and in school, but he got bullied for it, so he switched to gridball instead. He loves gridball, but sometimes he wonders what would have happened if he stuck with the trumpet.
Jess thinks he's short, but I don't think he'd have as much arrogance/confidence that he does in game if he were short. I think he does the hands on top of the doorframe thing.
To me, he was one of those semi-annoying popular guys in high school who would interrupt the class of the younger grade and ask the teacher if she missed him.
Takes skincare seriously (ty Haley)
Helps Evelyn in the kitchen and around the house
Shockingly handy? He's good at fixing things (doesn't want to be a burden on his grandparents, and he knows George feels bad that he can't do maintenance around the house.)
He and Haley have matching friendship bracelets
Elliot
(To the Elliot stans, I'm so sorry, but I cannot stand his character. Initially I was gonna marry him but then he started talking and I just Couldn't. So here's how I thought he was going to be. (I try to keep it somewhat similar to how he is in game but I just,,,,,,,))
Very romantic
Comes on too strong at first, but once he realizes he apologizes and learns how to be one of your really close friends (unless you ever want to be more, obvs)
Loves the drama of a historical romance
Adores Jane Austen
I feel like the game suggests that he isn't very tidy, but in my mind he keeps himself and his space neat and clean. (He might have a depression pit when he's feeling morose or lacking creativity, but he gets it together after a shower or a walk)
He's not egotistical (I also feel the game implies some of this), but he's not entirely humble, either. Very self-assured, but that could possibly be to mask that he really worries about whether or not his writing career will take off.
Harvey
(Jess drew little hearts around my notes for this one lmao)
Actually very sickly as a child, which I think had a huge factor in driving him into medicine.
Likes when the farmer does his nails. It's nice to have someone want to dote on him. (He ends up taking the polish off when he has to work for sanitary purposes, but that just means you can do them again later <3)
Secretly had a piercing at one point, but he was relatively anxious about having it, even though it made him feel good about himself. Possibly anxious because it didn't fit his "image"; he doesn't have it anymore. (He was So crazy in college literally what was he thinking??????) (it was a bellybutton piercing btw)
His guilty pleasure food is ice cream don't tell
Podcast lover. (Mainly medical and aerospace)
Sam
Mans has a mullet. I will not be accepting arguments at this time
He doesn't have a favorite color, but he really loves bright ones
Definitely has ear and possibly facial piercings
Idk where I'm getting this from, it's kind of based solely on vibes, but I feel like he might be colorblind?
Loves having his makeup done
Wears minimal jewelry, but is always wearing at least one ring, whether that's on a chain or on his finger depends on the day.
Sebastian
He gets called emo but I get more punk vibes from him
When you meet him he's just starting on his second sleeve tattoo
He uses candy cigarettes when he's trying to quit smoking, partially because he thinks it's funny, and partially just because he likes the sugar
I think he feels very stuck in the persona the town has given him, so he kind of just gives up after living there for so long on trying to convince people otherwise
Ear and eyebrow piercings, at least. Very willing to accept constructive criticism here.
Probably has the chain belt thing
Rings rings rings
Shane
I feel like he's either very tall, or very short, and I cannot decide which one
Cleans up very nice after he gets sober
Raises Jas more than Marnie does (Concerning bc alcoholism, but I can't stand Marnie so. The lesser of two evils I guess?)
Regularly takes walks to ward off dark thoughts
Keg king back in his college days
Bachelorettes
These are more look-based, since Jess and I were trying to do a redesign situation. The men I was struck with sudden inspiration and clarity for how to flesh out their personalities more, but I'll have to update the character work for the women when the creativity strikes.
Abigail
I kind of get undercut vibes from her
I think she has gages, for sure
Facial piercings but idk what most of them are called. Specifically a lip piercing
She has a small stick and poke that she, Sam, and Seb designed together
The big overlined lips that were popular in 2020 (might still be popular now but I'm no longer chronically online God bless)
Tattoo choker that was popular in the early 2000s
Big shaggy wolfcut
Elevated HotTopic vibes
Emily
Mixed metal jewelry queen
Wears multiple necklaces
Hippie-esque style (they really did her dirty with her game design she looks like s clown but she's so sweet that it's Criminal)
Crystal girly (a given)
Definitely has some sort of altar set up. Idk much about witchcraft so very loosely assigning her as a crystal witch
Really likes incense
Alice Cullen haircut, y'all know the one
Haley
She has such pretty lashes, I just know it
Big yabos
Her nails are always immaculate. Despite thinking her sister is weird, I think Emily is the one who learned how to give her acrylics
Alex is definitely the person she's closest to
I don't really have that many ides for her I'm sorry :(
Leah
Very wispy, ethereal hair (1908s aogg vibes)
Former hairdresser. While she still lived in the city, she went into cosmetology since it had the opportunity to be a creative career, and her partner at the time didn't really support her in her art (I think the partner bit is canon). Ultimately, she came to resent her job, and she left the city for Stardew Valley. I think she still uses the skills and knowledge she acquired when doing her own hair, and occasionally the hair of some of the residents in the valley.
Howl's Moving Castle earrings
Honestly Howl's Moving Castle vibes overall for her style I think
Dresses masc. but in a way that still comes off as feminine, if that makes sense. Think billowy white shirt from the male lead of a period drama
Most likely covered in some sort of art medium, (acrylics, wood shavings, oil paints, etc.), in a charming way, not an unclean way.
Maru
Minimal makeup, if any at all
She has cute little stud earrings she got as a kid (they're stars)
Has an astronomy charm bracelet, but it's only worn on special occasions. I think she'd be wearing it when she shows you the telescope and tries to confess her feelings for the first time.
She's a silver girly
Little baby hairs. Give my girl Maru better hair
Lowkey loves Hello Kitty (idk where this one came from but I feel it)
Penny
Bumper bangs. In general I get very 50s vibes for style
Doesn't think she'll ever leave Stardew Valley, so she doesn't really have any huge aspirations for herself anymore.
She mostly invests herself in teaching Vincent and Jas to the best of her ability.
Would have loved to be a teacher if she were to leave, but she worries about her mother, so she's never left
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I know there are some ideas on here that seem insubstantial compared to others, but this is the best I can do currently! I'd love feedback, since I'm relatively new to the fandom and the game, but I hope you enjoyed!!
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mullermilkshake · 1 month ago
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The rose garden - Chapter 4
I will be uploading the whole thing here, it's just going take a little time, but if you want to read more right now, there's more on my AO3 <3
Summary - You are just an author wanting to put your writing out there and carry on with your life, but when two people end up murdered, things you write about seem to be more real than just pure fiction.
Pairing - Yandere!Suguru Geto x Fem!Reader / Detective!Satoru Gojo x Fem!reader (Sort of. One sided)
Word count - 3.9k
Tags (master list for the entire fic, will add TW for significant tags) - DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!! PLEASE READ THE TAGS!!!,NSFW,SMUT,NO USE OF Y/N,Yandere!Getou Suguru, graphic depictions of violence, major character death Porn With Plot,Porn with Feelings,Established Relationship,PleasureDom,Codependency,Murder,Torture,Conspiracy,Cunnilingus,Orgasm Control,Multiple Orgasms,Minor Original Character(s),psychiatry,Medication,Power Imbalance,Vaginal Fingering,Disembowelment,Manipulation,Gaslighting,Rimming, Praise Kink,Grinding,mentions of blowjobs,Dry Humping,thigh riding,Dark,Autopsy,Aftercare,Hunting,Guns,Perceived infidelity,Body Horror,Smoking,Vaginal Sex,Misogyny,Public Stimulation,One sided sexual tension,Invasion of Privacy,Strangulation,Reader-Insert,Serious Satoru Gojo,Orgasm Edging,Obsession,Accidental Voyeurism,Angst,Questions of masculinity, stabbing, shooting
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Fan mail.
Some people get fan mail. Some get copious amounts and they don't know what to do with it.
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Tags for chapter - NSFW, Ass eating, rimming, cream pie, multiple orgasms, obsessive fan mail, crotch rubbing, kissing, oral / blow job referenced, murder mystery, grinding
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I just wanted to tell you that I am your number one fan, Love. 
Keep writing and doing everything that makes you happy. 
You’re perfect. 
Fifteen hours prior to the discovery of the bodies. 
“Oh Suguru. Just like that…” You and your fiancé made it to the car after he returned late from work, but you hadn’t made it to the cabin. 
Not yet. That’s how the night had started.
About half an hour into the journey, the tension between the two of you was so palpable, Suguru stopped the car down an old winding road that frequented no one and switched the engine off.
Now, he had you bent over in the back, fingers straight inside you with his face between your cheeks, keeping an earth shattering orgasm away from you. You liked to be teased every now and then, and when you confessed to touching yourself after he left for work that morning, he could not help but voice his disappointment that he wasn’t there to do it for you.
“It’s my job to take care of you, isn’t it? There’s no place on earth where you should have to take care of that itch yourself.”
Being your former therapist meant that he knew what words to use to extract the right information from you without even making you aware of it.
“You left for work and I was all worked up-”
“I’ll be your husband soon. What sort of husband would I be if I let you come all by yourself?” He licked your hole with purpose, running his tongue the entire length between your ass cheeks and pumping his fingers like the pro he was.
He would be your husband, as soon as this book was finished. You’d walk down the aisle to join him in the next chapter of your lives and in a way it was one of the greatest anxieties you were going to face. Perhaps that’s why the book wasn’t even started yet.
No, you were ready to become Mrs Geto, for that you were so sure you would have bet your life on it, but it was a big leap nonetheless. Though you wouldn’t have gone this far with anyone else.
Here Suguru was, supporting you on your journey whilst also pursuing his own career among other things and he did it all with a smile on his face. The man was a god and treated you so well, better than most.
“Then let me come- please I can’t take it anymore.” It was as though he’d edged you for hours.
There was no other man like Suguru. You were way too lucky to not compare yourself to other women for him. Why you, when there were so many beautiful people in the world?
Though he squashed that intrusive thought down at every opportunity.
“You can’t wait another few minutes, sweetheart?” He cooed, placing precious kisses over the squidgy mass of your ass. “I love seeing you like this.”
No you couldn't. Not with the way he was using your body. “N-no. Don’t make me wait. Please, hon.”
It was like his fingers just knew what position to be in to prolong that tight knit suppressive orgasm until he allowed it. “You ask so nicely. It’s good you use your words clearly when you take my fingers so well.”
Every word of praise rolled off of his tongue like butter that dripped and seared and sizzled onto the scolding surface that was your naked body behind the condensated windows of Suguru’s old vintage car.
“Tell me again. Please? I’ll give you everything in the world if you do.”
Nothing equated to him. All you ever wanted was him. “Let me come, Suguru. Please let me come.”
“Of course, sweetheart.” All it took was a shift of his wrist and he changed the way his fingers curved, like it unlocked a new characteristic in a game.
Just like that, you were coming over his hand, clenched around his fingers in suspended silence as he kissed your sweat ridden skin. “Good girl, that’s better, huh?”
You finally found your breath and took a large inhale. “Fuck- Yes, yes it’s good!”
The orgasm shook your body, made it tremble and jerk but Suguru held you there in his firm grip. He was built like a bulldozer, far too strong for you if you ever decided to take him on in a flirtatious battle of physical strength. Suguru could throw you over his shoulder like you were nothing, so your body reactions held still.
Long, drawn out, numbing you from the waist down. “Fuck me Suguru, fuck me!”
Suguru pulled your bottom half towards him and he bottomed out inside you faster than you ever thought was possible, cock buried deep without so much as a sound except from your squeal of pleasure.
Your face laid against the leather interior of the seats, squashed down as he fucked you, grasping at your hands and pulling them behind to lay flat on your back in his one hand, the other gently holding the base of your neck in such a tight space.
The whole ideal made your eyes roll, still coming down from your orgasm, hoping and praying Suguru would come too. You wanted it inside you, deep inside you so that it wouldn’t drip out down your thighs at least until you made it to the cabin.
You’d hate for it to get all over the seats.
He wouldn’t do it unless you asked, you knew that. “C-come inside me. I want you-”
“Oh really?” His voice was still so calm and unbroken. “That’s what you want, is it?”
“Yes. Y-yes..”
“Alright then.” Suguru moved his fingers to your soaked clit and rubbed with such miniscule movements you hadn’t actually noticed until you were coming again unexpectedly.
Your moans were stifled by how your head and neck was, and in all that mess, Suguru pressed his hips into you, releasing himself just as you asked. Perfect. His pretty huffs of satisfaction filled the car as he filled you too.
There was no break in his voice. “Look at you, angel. That was a long time clenching, you must be so exhausted.”
Exhausted enough just to lay in the back seat and cuddle until morning, yeah. The last time you checked, it was already past eleven o’clock. The cabin was only another forty five minutes away, though when Suguru got situated and pulled you into a close embrace in the back seats, well, maybe the cabin could wait.
“Y’know, maybe we should just stay here until the morning.” You squeezed your thighs together to make sure nothing dribbled out.
He’d probably agree. Suguru usually did, except when he didn’t. “I’ll give the whole world, but I don’t think it’s wise being out here in the lanes for too long.”
You pouted, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. “No one is around, the doors are locked. It’s getting pretty late.”
The forwardness made him chuckle. “And you don’t know what sort of deranged people lurk around the woods at night. I’ve treated some of those people.” He pressed his lips to your forehead. “As much as I’d love to, we should be getting on our way… before I get distracted again and then we’ll never get to the cabin.”
Looking up at him, you could see the adoration in his eyes, “Fine. I guess we could wait until we get there.”
“You’re never this forward. Did getting that award go to your head, Miss author? Maybe I should encourage it. This confidence is way too important to ignore.” 
His words could have lulled you into a deep sleep, and for a moment, they almost did. “I don’t know, I guess I’m ready to just write my book and I’ll work hard to be the best writer I can be. I guess that starts at home, right?”
Suguru nodded, the pads of his fingertips grazed your skin absentmindedly. “It does.”
“We worked on my confidence for so long in those sessions and I know you still try and encourage it.” Well, sex just turned into an impromptu therapy session. “I guess I was just feeling a little invisible, in the background with all of those people.”
The award ceremony was the straw that broke the camel's back for your confidence. No invite, no consideration and no one cared. All you wanted to do was write, but there was a barrier every step of the way.
“I think I’ll feel better when I hear back from the publishing house.” Five publishers, five chances. You were unmistakably certain that all five would not agree, but you held out hope that one would come back at least.
“What can I do?”
“You do everything I could ask for and more. You make me feel seen even when no one else remembers me… I’m pushing my confidence in hopes that it’ll help me write this book.”
“Still having trouble, huh?”
“A little, but I’ll get there. I want to walk down that aisle soon enough.”
Suguru smiled sweetly, bringing you in but an inch, kissing you just as sweetly with just a passionate flair he always had down perfectly to add a touch of electricity down the base of your spine.
“I look forward to it, sweetie. Let’s get you dressed, I can already feel goosebumps over your arms. Why don’t we get going and put the fireplace on when we arrive? There’s still wood cut from last time.”
The fireplace was the best place in that cabin to snuggle and fuck. It was certain that you were not going to sleep much tonight and had to try and start your book on little sleep. “You drive a hard bargain, Doctor Geto.”
“I guess I do.”
It was way past midnight by the time you had reached the cabin. A quaint little place tucked away past the various web-like lane roads and settled nicely by a picturesque lake like something out of a horror-thriller movie.
It was perfectly perfect. Even in the pitch dark, the moon bounced off of the lake like a glass mirror that lit up the entire surrounding area. 
You remembered the first time Suguru brought you out here, now making it a thrice yearly solid get away for some isolation and well needed rest. 
Many things had changed since you came here for the first time. Plenty of additional furniture to the once bachelor pad to make it homely and welcome. Suguru did all of those things, adding whatever you liked and surprised you with the most romantic gestures as was his love language.
His love language extended out into the garden as well.
“I can’t wait to see the rose garden.” You searched your best in the dark, but the bushes were put to sleep.
The rose garden took up most of the outdoor space except some furniture to admire the view. It was your favourite place to sit and write, drink your steaming morning beverages, and as it was getting colder during the nights, the morning dew dripping off of the red petals and onto the pretty pea gravel made your heart melt.
He did all of that for you. Another surprise.
Suguru pulled up into the driveway. “I came to check it a few weeks back. It was doing pretty well, but with the cold, we'll need to prune them back before they die.” 
That meant having umpteen vases rammed with fragrant roses around the cabin and more to bring back with you.
“I wanted to bring roses home for you tonight, but the florist had closed early.” He said, taking off his seatbelt and climbing out to open your door himself.
“That’s alright,” You smiled and took his hand. “Those in the garden are my favourite. Just the thought is enough.”
“I can still do this though.”
“What do you mean- Oh!” Suguru scooped you up in an instant. You yelped and chuckled as he closed the car door with his foot and carried you to the cabin door.
“I have to get practice for when we do this for real. It’s the only way to get it perfect when I carry you over the threshold.” The wedding. 
You tucked your face into his neck and listened for the jingling of his keys and click of the locked door. “I get the feeling you just like carrying me about.”
“Maybe I do. Perhaps I should have you on my back so I can make dinner, then you won’t have to walk around at all-” The door opened and it sounded like an avalanche at the front door.
“What is that?” Envelopes. Lots and lots of envelopes.
Suguru placed you down gently and flicked the main hallway light on. You knelt down to study them and pick one up. “They’re… addressed to me. Wait- all of them?”
How odd.
Scooping them out of the way with your foot so Suguru could close and lock the door was easy, but reading them and counting them were not. There were literally hundreds.
Fan mail. 
“I have more fan mail than I thought I’d ever get- I mean I didn’t think I’d get any at all…” You had managed to get them all up onto the coffee table by the fireplace.
“I’ll get the fireplace lit and make us some coffee, why don’t you give them a read?”
Some letters were short, like a few sentences long, and others were pages with words of affirmation and admiration to not only your writing, but to you as well. You weren’t sure how to take it in this quantity.
The writing was different most of the time, but your gut was telling you that it was the same person. They were not graphic or threatening, rather, they were pleasant and content to comfort you if you were ever feeling down. You just didn't expect someone to care about you like this besides Suguru.
Please keep writing. 
Ever since I read the first sentence on page one for the first time, I was entranced by the beauty of each word you put down on paper. Your beautiful storytelling and way with details makes my heart simply leap with joy. 
You are truly amazing and should never give up, even if no one sees. I know you'll get your first award soon enough and I’ll be right there waiting and watching that big moment. The whole fan base will and we’ll all be there to support you forever. 
I’m your number one fan and always will be. 
You’re doing a great job. 
Hello, 
I saw your interview on that podcast. I thought it was amazing, you did so well speaking  publicly and really made us understand the twists and turns of ‘A fate sealed’ and even got me to understand more of where your head was when you wrote this. 
I know there's a lot of dark stuff in all of us and you just harnessed that energy and made the most amazing art piece with it. I’d love to see you do another podcast, but maybe with a different guy, because he seemed really pushy on what questions he was asking.  
You did so well in standing on your own. Well done! 
Hello,  
I just want to say that I read your book front to back in a day because it was so good. I have to let you know that I cannot wait for your new book to launch and I will be there right up front to receive it and slam my money down. 
The first sentence always gets me and I’m just as excited to read the first one of this new book too. Your agent has done a fantastic job at advertising and I have told all of my friends to pick up your book and read it.  
I’ve even told my mother to recommend this to her book club. 
“Wow, I’m… I don’t know.” The fire crackled in front, spitting little embers against the fire guard. The letters were all opened, all one hundred and twelve of them. “I knew some people enjoyed reading my book but… This is- I’m humbled that I’ve made this many people happy.”
Suguru had stayed up with you the entire time. “I hope you can put your confidence behind these. I think they’re a great way to support you if you ever get side tracked.”
He took a sip of his coffee and covered the two of you in a knitted blanket as the chill through the cabin came in. You leant back into him and fiddled with his fingers where they draped over your shoulder from the back of the sofa.
“I guess I could, yeah. These letters are so thoughtful and people took the time to send them to me.” You noticed the various different coloured picture stamps and handwriting.
Each one meticulously written and sealed with love and admiration just for your eyes only, just because your work crossed their mind at some point during their day.
“Letters are great ways of having physical reminders.” Suguru wrapped his fingers around yours. “It shows you how far you’ve come too.”
That much was true. You were only a timid thing when you met Suguru, walking up to his office with the address you wrote down in your trembling hand. You weren’t sure what to expect when you finally met the man you had yet to speak to.
You didn’t expect the man sitting in the leather padded armchair with a clipboard and pen over his lap to be the man you shared a bed with just eighteen months down the line.
Suguru adjusted his glasses and took them off of his face, taking the little cord that attached them around his neck and placed them down on the coffee table and piles of paper. He shifted down and turned, getting you between his legs and cradling you in his arms.
“I never thought I would be so privileged to have you here in my arms. I really am the luckiest man in the world.” He held you lovingly.
“I think I’m the lucky one.” You were in a place you felt safest. “I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have you at my side…”
And that is where you left it, falling asleep there on the sofa next to the crackling fire and warmth permeating your cheeks until it died out in the morning, the little embers disappearing in the dark to wait for the sunrise to flutter your eyelids open.
You didn’t want to move, nor did you want to even open your eyes. Suguru’s chest rose and fell smoothly under your head and almost sent you back off to sleep. You were on vacation after all, there was nowhere you needed to be, but you did need to start making notes on your book.
It wasn't going to write itself.
Little did you know that Suguru was actually awake, he tightened his grip around you when you made an attempt to get up.
“Not just yet.” He said, his sleepy gruff voice was hushed. “Give us another hour. I’ll keep you warm.”
You did very little to rub the sleep from your eyes, still in your clothes from last night. “An hour? If we don’t get up now, I don’t think we ever will today.”
He huffed with much amusement. “So let’s leave today and try again tomorrow.”
So lazy… “There are other ways to keep me warm y’know?” You squirmed around with much difficulty and faced him. “I can name a few just off the top of my head.”
“Tempting me with sex, huh? You just know I can’t ever refuse you, don’t you?” Suguru’s eyes remained closed, but he adjusted his hips and allowed you to straddle them.
“I do.” Because Suguru lived and breathed pleasing you. He made that frequently clear. “And what would make me really happy is letting me do this…” His cock was hard, it twitched as soon as you touched it.
“I'm the one who should be pleasing you, not the other way around.”
“This is what pleases me.” You cooed, palming him slowly to get a reaction. It was incredibly rare that you could corner him like this, letting his walls down enough to get the drop on him.
“Does it now?” 
Your response was a good way to give him what he wanted out of it, even though you just wanted to take care of him like he did to you most nights.
“Yeah… So let me take care of you, hon.” Massaging his thighs was always a good way to get him riled up.
Grinding your hips over his cock was too.
Suguru kept his eyes closed, his hand felt up your shoulder and neck, thumb brushing your cheek with irregularity. He was hard enough to sit on already, though you contemplated what you could do to really let him enjoy it.
Sucking him off seemed like a good idea. He always enjoyed that when he let you.
Planting a short kiss on his lips, you moved your way down his neck, sucking and nipping his throat, each time getting lower and lower, moving your hips back and forth using the friction to ramp things up.
“You’re so pretty, Suguru. Always taking good care of me. Always being-” There was an unexpected knock at the door.
Suguru’s eyes finally opened, though he didn’t pay the door any mind. “Ignore it. It’s probably the mail.” To add the emphasis, he grasped your ass and pushed you further into him.
It felt good, the sensation against you. “It’s me who should be doing that. You can’t turn it off can you-” The door knocked again, louder and more forceful with purpose.
“I guess we better get that then.” Suguru huffed and shifted his weight so that you could climb off.
“It’s alright, I’ll get it. Wait here and when I’m back, we’ll carry on where we started.”
There was one silhouette at the door, and upon opening it, there was a man in sunglasses and the most strikingly snow white hair you had ever seen. Suguru had made his way off of the sofa.
“Can I help you?” You said, adjusting your hair to being somewhat presentable from the way you slept.
He held his police badge up. “Sorry to bother you, I’m Detective Satoru Gojo. I’m making house calls and I have some questions surrounding a homicide that took place the night before last.”
“A homicide?- what time is it-” You hadn’t looked at the clock yet, must have still been early.
The Detective rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “It’s four in the afternoon, actually.”
Suguru opened the door further and got between you and the man. “Of course, Detective. Please, come in and I’ll put the coffee on.”
A homicide…
A Detective turning up out of the blue…
Something you never actually thought would happen right on your doorstep. It sounded like something out of dark-thriller fiction.
But who was this involving?
Your stomach lurched just thinking about it.
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DISCLAIMER - I do not own any of the characters of Jujutsu Kaisen. This is a work of fan fiction and is absolutely not representative of the views or intentions of the original creator(s).
The side characters and advanced plot is my own work. A gift for @vampir-queen and original idea for this fic is their's.
Also Please don’t post any of my work without permission thank you!
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plaest2k · 3 months ago
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hey, im a young nz artist too and i like making comics/want to do something bigger when im older, and i think your stuff is genuinely so fucking cool. i love it so much. i was wondering how you pursued art after highschool, like did you go to art school? if so, where and what was that like, and if not, how’d you find the time to continue doing it? its always felt like my opportunities for a career in art specifically seem smaller living in nz, but idk your stuff inspires me to think otherwise. thank you :)
kia ora!!
thanks so much for asking, it's truly so flattering that a young nz artist would ask me for advice! <3 sadly i might not necessarily be the best person to ask...
First of all, it's been a loooooong time since i've been a young artist hahaha I'm 32. After high school, I studied architecture at university because, as you're probably aware, we don't really have art schools like our peers do overseas. But after studying for a few years, I had a major depressive episode and dropped out. After that, I ran away to Korea to teach english for a year before coming back to work in cafes for about 6 years. Back then I was pursuing a career in editorial illustration cause that's what all my favourite artists were doing but I didn't realise that it was a dying industry at the time and there weren't exactly lot of full-time professional artists here who could have warned me...
So after about 10 years of trying to piece together some kind of profession in illustration, I ended up looking for a tattoo apprenticeship which was looking pretty promising but my bosses turned out to be not-so-great people. I tried to keep tattooing on my own but that was around the time COVID hit which wasn't (and still isn't) great for a job that requires you meet face-to-face with a lot of people. So, since the pandemic began, I've just been subsisting off of jobseeker, chipping away at comics and the occasional illustration gig.
The whole experience had me perpetually burnt out for the past ~15 years and made me realise that art as a career really just shouldn't be a thing. Under capitalism, it requires either an embarrassing level of compromise, privilege or luck to pursue. All the household-name artists you know in NZ either come from privilege or got unbelievably lucky. I don't say this as a value judgment or anything, most of them are truly wonderful people, it's just what I've learned about them as colleagues who've worked together a few times over the years.
I don't fault anyone for wanting to pursue that, but if you want to make uncompromising art that makes you feel fulfilled, you can't stake your livelihood on it. Art is supposed to be a by-product of life well lived, not content to be sold.
It's why I'm making plans to go back to uni next year to switch careers into a cushy office job because, as you've observed, even if you still want to pursue this as a full-time career, opportunities for artists in Aotearoa is extremely limited.
Having said all that, there's still a lot of nuance to this whole thing that would take me too long to cover in a tumblr post, so if you'd like me to elaborate or anything or have more questions, you're more than welcome to contact me through my email: [email protected]!
And this offer extends to literally anyone who might be looking for advice or just wants to talk about art <3
Final thing: the thought of studying something else at college/ university and keeping your art as a hobby might sound bleak when you're young, but life is so much longer than you think. You might feel like you have limitless creativity and ideas at the moment but when it becomes your entire life, you burn through it all faster than you'd think. It's because you need fuel to inform what you make and you can't get that from just making art. Like I always say, art is a by-product of a life well lived; You need life-experiences; You need to love, hate, care, be hated and loved to make art and you can't do that if you're too busy to do any of that. Those 3 years you spend on a bachelors is nothing in comparison to a lifetime of staring at a blank page, agonizing over what to make next.
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