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#but yeah I’m not done answering them!!!
pucksandpower · 2 days
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Enjoy the Butterflies
Daniel Ricciardo x crazy rich!Reader
Summary: in which Daniel gets dropped by his team and picked up by an heiress with a penchant for taking in strays
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The heavy bass of the club still hums in your bones as you step out onto the pavement, the humid Singapore night wrapping around you like a second skin. The neon lights from Zouk, one of the city’s most exclusive nightclubs, pulse in rhythm with your heartbeat, and for a second, you stand still, relishing the quiet that follows hours of dancing, laughter, and too many cocktails.
The sounds of the party still echo behind you, a muffled roar of privilege and extravagance, but out here, it’s just you and the night.
Or so you think.
Your attention is pulled toward a commotion just a few meters away. You blink, trying to make sense of the scene. There’s a man — definitely not local, tall, and a little scruffy compared to the sharp-dressed crowd you’re used to — being unceremoniously escorted out by one of the bouncers. His head hangs low, and his shoulders are slumped in a way that screams defeat.
It’s not the dramatic, messy kind of exit where someone’s too drunk to stand, or too proud to admit they’ve done something wrong. No, this is different. This guy isn’t even trying to fight back.
“Get lost,” the bouncer grunts, shoving the man one last time before turning to head back inside.
You can’t help it — you freeze, your gaze lingering on him. He doesn’t move, just leans against the wall like he’s considering sinking to the ground. His posture is pitiful in a way that tugs at something inside you, that soft part of you that your family says is too soft. The part that’s always drawn to the broken, the hopeless, the ones who don’t quite fit.
He lets out a long, dramatic sigh, his eyes flicking up to the club entrance, like maybe if he stares long enough, he’ll magically be allowed back in. He’s pathetic. There’s no other word for it. But he’s also kind of endearing, in a weird way.
“Pathetic,” you mutter under your breath, half-amused.
You could leave him there, you know that. This isn’t your problem. He’ll figure something out. Or not. It’s not like you owe him anything, but …
"Are you just going to stand there?” You hear yourself saying, your feet already moving toward him before you can stop them.
His head snaps up, clearly not expecting anyone to address him. His eyes — big, brown, and confused — lock onto yours. He’s a little scruffy, but there’s something boyishly charming about him.
“I — uh,” he stammers, straightening up slightly but still looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. “No. I mean, yeah, I guess?”
You roll your eyes. “That’s not an answer.”
He shrugs helplessly. “Well, I don’t really have one. Kinda got kicked out of the only place I planned on being tonight.”
You narrow your eyes. “What did you do?”
“I, uh …” He scratches the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. “I don’t know, honestly. Might’ve been a little too loud, or maybe I was blocking someone important from getting their drinks. These places, man, they don’t like it when you’re … disruptive.”
You cross your arms, glancing at him up and down. He doesn’t look dangerous, just out of place. “You sound like you deserved it.”
He winces. “Probably did.”
There’s a beat of silence, and you’re still standing there, wondering why you’re wasting your time. Then, before you know it, you’re sighing. Your family would shake their heads at you, calling you too kind for your own good.
“Come on,” you say, jerking your head toward the curb. “Let’s go.”
He blinks. “What?”
You nod toward the curb, where your Rolls Royce waits, engine quietly idling. The chauffeur stands by, staring straight ahead like this is the most normal thing in the world, like this isn’t some insane act of kindness you’re pulling out of nowhere.
“I’m not leaving you out here,” you say, already heading toward the car. “Get in.”
“Uh — wait, seriously?” He hurries to catch up, still clearly not processing what’s happening. “You don’t even know me.”
You shrug, throwing a look over your shoulder. “Do I need to?”
“Usually, yeah,” he says, jogging slightly to keep pace with you. “I mean, what if I’m like, a complete psycho or something?”
“If you were, I doubt you’d be sitting against a wall feeling sorry for yourself,” you shoot back, opening the car door. “Now get in before I change my mind.”
There’s a brief moment of hesitation, like he’s weighing his options, but then he shakes his head, muttering something under his breath, and slides into the backseat beside you. The leather is cool against your skin, the scent of luxury and privilege permeating the air, and for a second, it’s quiet as the door closes behind you both.
The driver pulls away from the curb smoothly, not asking questions.
“So … you do this often?” The man asks, still clearly bewildered. “Pick up random guys outside clubs?”
You snort, turning to face him. “Definitely not.”
“Then why me?”
You shrug. “You looked pathetic.”
His eyebrows shoot up, and for a second, you think you’ve offended him, but then he laughs — loud, unabashed, and surprising. “Wow. Okay. Well, thanks, I guess?”
You smile despite yourself. “Don’t mention it.”
He leans back in the seat, still grinning. “I’m Daniel, by the way. Ricciardo. Not sure if that means anything to you.”
You narrow your eyes, the name clicking into place. “The F1 driver?”
He looks a little sheepish but nods. “Yeah, that’s me.”
You stare at him for a moment, processing that. It’s not like you keep up with racing, but you’ve definitely heard of him. Seen him in ads, maybe, or on TV. It’s a little weird, thinking about it now. The same guy who’s smiling at you, a little bashfully, is famous in his own right.
“I didn’t recognize you,” you say, somewhat apologetic.
He shrugs again, more relaxed now. “Don’t worry about it. Happens more often than you think. Usually, I’m not getting kicked out of places, though.”
You smirk. “Good to know.”
There’s a comfortable silence after that, the two of you settling into the soft hum of the car as it glides through the streets. You steal a glance at him, watching as he stares out the window, looking slightly more at peace now that he’s not sitting on the pavement outside of a nightclub. He catches you looking, raising an eyebrow.
“So, you’re just gonna take me home, drop me off like a stray cat?” He teases, flashing you that boyish grin again.
You tilt your head, pretending to think about it. “Depends. Do stray cats usually get rides in Rolls Royces?”
“Only the ones that get kicked out of clubs,” he fires back, and you can’t help but laugh.
This was definitely not how you expected your night to go.
***
You lean back in your seat, letting the smooth hum of the Rolls Royce fill the silence for a moment. Daniel seems more relaxed now, but there’s still something hanging in the air, something that makes you look at him again, curiosity getting the better of you.
"So," you say, turning your head slightly to study him, "where am I dropping you off? What hotel are you staying at?"
Daniel blinks, the question catching him off guard. He looks at you, then at the ceiling of the car like the answer might be written somewhere above his head. “Uh … yeah, about that …”
You narrow your eyes. “You don’t know, do you?”
He winces, running a hand through his tousled hair. “Not exactly. I mean, I know I checked into a place, obviously, but I can’t remember the name right now.”
“You can’t remember what hotel you’re staying at?” Your tone is somewhere between disbelief and amusement.
Daniel shrugs, unbothered. “It’s been a long day. Plus, there’s like, a million hotels in Singapore. They all start to blur together.”
You can’t help the small laugh that escapes you. “Okay, genius. So how were you planning on getting back?”
“Hadn’t thought that far ahead,” he admits, grinning lazily. Then, the grin fades, and something shifts in his expression — something a little sadder, more raw. “Honestly, even if I did know, I don’t really want to go back there.”
You frown. “Why not?”
He hesitates, eyes flicking to the window as if he can avoid answering by watching the city lights whiz by. After a long pause, he sighs and leans back against the seat, rubbing a hand over his face.
“I got dropped,” he mutters, almost too quietly for you to hear.
“Dropped?” You repeat, confused. “From what?”
“From my team,” he clarifies, his voice a little hoarse. “VCARB. They, uh, decided they didn’t want me around anymore.”
You blink, the realization hitting you like a sudden cold wave. “Oh.”
Daniel doesn’t say anything for a moment, the silence growing heavy. You can see the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers twitch slightly as he picks at an invisible thread on his jeans.
“I mean,” he finally continues, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “I kinda saw it coming. Just didn’t think it’d happen this fast, y’know?”
The lightheartedness from earlier is completely gone now, replaced by something darker, something heavier. You can feel the weight of it pressing down on him, the frustration and sadness barely concealed behind his crooked grin.
“I thought I had more time,” he says softly, his voice raw with vulnerability. “But I guess that’s how it goes. One day you’re on top of the world, and the next … well, you’re getting kicked out of nightclubs.”
You stay quiet, unsure of what to say. You weren’t expecting to find yourself in this situation tonight — sitting in the back of a Rolls Royce with a famous F1 driver who just lost his job. And yet, here you are, listening to him spill his heart out in the middle of the night, somewhere between Zouk and wherever he was supposed to go next.
“I just don’t want to be around them right now,” he continues, voice thick. “The team, the people … they’re all pretending to be nice, like it’s just business, but it’s not. It’s my life. My career.”
He shakes his head, letting out a soft, bitter laugh. “And now it’s over. Just like that.”
You let out a sigh, long and heavy. “So, you don’t want to go back to your hotel?”
“Not really,” Daniel mutters, slumping back in his seat.
You stare at him for a second, weighing your options. Your chauffeur is driving aimlessly through the city, waiting for your instructions, and Daniel is sitting here, lost in his own world of disappointment. He looks tired, drained, and you’re not cruel enough to leave him like this.
“Well,” you say, after a beat of silence, “I guess you’re coming with me then.”
Daniel’s head snaps up, his brows furrowing. “Wait, what?”
You glance at him, your voice firm. “You heard me. You can’t remember your hotel, you don’t want to go back even if you could, and I’m not about to leave you wandering around Singapore. So, you’re coming to my place.”
He stares at you, eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and disbelief. “Are you serious?”
You roll your eyes. “Would I say it if I wasn’t?”
For a moment, he looks like he’s about to argue, but then he slumps back in his seat again, exhaling a long, tired breath. “Alright. If you’re sure.”
You nod, already turning to the front of the car. “Take us home,” you tell your chauffeur, who acknowledges the instruction with a curt nod before the car smoothly shifts direction.
Daniel leans his head against the window, eyes heavy. “Thanks,” he mumbles, his voice barely audible. “You really didn’t have to do this.”
You wave it off. “I know.”
A few minutes pass in silence, the soft sound of the tires against the road lulling both of you into a calm quiet. You glance over at Daniel again, noticing how his eyelids are drooping more and more, his head bobbing slightly as he fights to stay awake.
“You look like you’re about to pass out,” you comment, amused.
“M’not,” he protests, but his words are already slurred. “Just … resting my eyes.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Sure.”
It doesn’t take long before his breathing evens out, and his head tips to the side, fully succumbing to sleep. You shake your head, watching him for a moment. He looks peaceful like this, the weight of whatever he’s been carrying lifted, if only temporarily.
“Of course,” you mutter to yourself, leaning back in your seat, “this is how my night ends.”
The car pulls up in front of your building — a sleek, modern tower in one of the city’s most exclusive neighborhoods. Your chauffeur steps out first, coming around to open the door for you. You step out gracefully, smoothing your dress, but when you look back into the car, Daniel is still out cold, slumped awkwardly in the seat.
You sigh. “This is not happening.”
Your chauffeur, ever professional, stands at attention, waiting for your next move. You consider your options for a second before glancing at him. “Help me get him inside, will you?”
The chauffeur doesn’t hesitate, nodding curtly. He moves to the other side of the car and carefully opens the door. Together, you manage to maneuver Daniel out of the backseat, his arm draped over the chauffeur’s shoulder as he leans heavily against him. Daniel stirs slightly but doesn’t wake, too deep in sleep to even register what’s happening.
The doorman, recognizing you immediately, rushes over to assist. “Miss Y/L/N,” he says, eyes flicking from you to the unconscious Daniel, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. “Is everything alright?”
“It’s fine,” you say quickly, giving him a tight smile. “Just … had a long night.”
The doorman nods, not pressing further, and helps the chauffeur guide Daniel through the lobby and into the elevator. You follow behind, feeling a little ridiculous but knowing there’s no turning back now.
The elevator ride is quiet, save for Daniel’s soft breathing as he leans against the wall, still fast asleep. You glance at him, half-amused, half-exasperated. What a night.
When you finally reach your penthouse, the door slides open smoothly, and the chauffeur and doorman gently ease Daniel onto your plush couch. He sprawls out, looking even more out of place among the sleek, expensive furniture, but you can’t help but chuckle at the sight.
“Thanks,” you tell the men, who nod before excusing themselves quietly, leaving you alone with your unexpected guest.
You stand there for a moment, looking at Daniel as he sleeps soundly on your couch. His shoes are still on, one arm hanging off the side, and his mouth slightly open in a way that’s almost comical. Shaking your head, you grab a blanket from a nearby chair and drape it over him.
“Well, this is definitely not how I thought my night would go,” you mutter to yourself, standing back and crossing your arms as you look at him one last time.
With a sigh, you turn and head toward your bedroom, already mentally preparing for the chaos tomorrow is likely to bring.
***
You’re in the middle of a dream when you hear it — the unmistakable sound of your mother’s voice. Loud, sharp, and utterly out of place in the peaceful silence of your penthouse. Your eyes snap open, heart pounding in your chest as you try to piece together why in the world she would be here, at this ungodly hour.
And then you hear it. A scream.
“Who is this man?”
Your stomach drops, the reality of last night hitting you like a freight train. Daniel. He’s still here. Passed out on your couch. And now, your very traditional mother is standing in your living room, probably about to have a heart attack.
You scramble out of bed, nearly tripping over yourself as you rush toward the living room. You can already hear her ranting, a mix of shock and outrage in her voice, and you don’t even have time to think before you’re standing in front of her, trying to calm the situation down.
“Mum!” You blurt out, trying to sound casual, like this isn’t the absolute disaster it clearly is. “What are you doing here?”
Your mother’s eyes are wide, her perfectly manicured hand pressed dramatically against her chest as she stares down at Daniel, who’s still blissfully unconscious, mouth slightly open, one arm dangling off the edge of the couch.
“I could ask you the same thing!” She snaps, her voice rising with every word. “Why is there a man sleeping in your living room? And why-” she leans in, eyes narrowing, “does he look like he’s been out drinking all night?”
Your mind races, panic bubbling up as you try to figure out what to say, what kind of excuse would possibly explain this. And then, without even thinking, the words tumble out of your mouth.
“He’s … he’s my boyfriend.”
The second the lie leaves your lips, you know it’s a terrible idea. But it’s too late now. Your mother freezes, her eyes narrowing suspiciously as she looks between you and Daniel. “Your … boyfriend?” She repeats, her tone incredulous.
You nod, forcing a tight smile, praying that Daniel stays asleep long enough for you to get through this. “Yes. My boyfriend.”
Your mother looks like she’s about to faint. “And you didn’t tell me? You-”
“I was going to!” you interrupt quickly. “But it’s … it’s new. Very new. I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure.”
She crosses her arms, still clearly not buying it. “And this is how you introduce him to your mother? Drunk and passed out in your living room?”
“He’s not drunk,” you say quickly, even though that’s obviously a lie. “He’s … uh, just really tired. He’s been going through a lot lately.”
At that moment, you hear a groan from the couch. You glance over, heart sinking as Daniel stirs, slowly blinking awake. His face is pale, and the second he opens his eyes, you can see the hangover written all over him.
“Wh-” Daniel starts, voice groggy as he sits up, rubbing a hand over his face. “Where …”
Your mother’s eyes widen, and she turns to you, her expression one of absolute horror. “This is him?” She whispers, like you’ve just committed some kind of unspeakable crime.
You give her a weak smile. “Yes. Mum, this is Daniel.”
Daniel’s head snaps up at the sound of his name, his bleary eyes trying to make sense of the situation. He looks at you, confused, and you give him a pointed look, willing him to just go along with it.
"Daniel," you say through gritted teeth, “this is my mother. Remember? I told you she might stop by.”
Daniel blinks at you, his brow furrowed in confusion. It takes a second, but you can practically see the gears turning in his brain as he tries to process what’s happening. Finally, he nods slowly, trying to catch up. “Right. Your mum. Uh, hi.”
Your mother stares at him, unimpressed. “Are you alright?” She asks, her voice cold and judgmental.
Daniel, still clearly half-asleep and in the throes of a wicked hangover, gives her a shaky smile. “Yeah, just … didn’t sleep great,” he mumbles, leaning back into the couch.
You wince internally, but keep up the act. “He’s been working so hard lately,” you say quickly, hoping to smooth things over. “With his job and everything.”
Your mother’s eyes narrow further. “And what does he do, exactly?”
Daniel glances at you, panic flickering in his eyes, clearly not prepared for this interrogation. You jump in before he can make things worse.
“He’s … in sports,” you say vaguely. “He’s an athlete.”
Your mother’s gaze doesn’t soften in the slightest. “What kind of athlete?”
You feel Daniel’s eyes on you, pleading silently for help. “Formula 1,” you say quickly. “He’s a Formula 1 driver.”
Your mother blinks, taken aback by this revelation. “A race car driver?” She repeats, like it’s the most absurd thing she’s ever heard. “That’s … interesting.”
You can tell she’s not impressed, but at least it’s bought you a little time. You just need to get through this without her prying too much further.
“I promise, Mum, Daniel’s a good guy,” you say, trying to sound convincing. “He just … had a rough night. That’s all.”
Your mother’s gaze flicks between you and Daniel, suspicion still heavy in her eyes. “And where did he sleep?”
You freeze. “Uh …”
Daniel, finally catching on to what’s happening, sits up a little straighter. “I slept here,” he says quickly, gesturing to the couch. “On the couch. I didn’t … you know …”
He trails off, looking at your mother awkwardly, but the message is clear.
Your mother’s eyebrows shoot up, surprised by his admission. “You didn’t share a bed?”
You shake your head vigorously. “No, Mum. We didn’t share a bed. We’re not married, remember?”
For the first time since she walked in, your mother seems to relax a little, her rigid posture softening just a bit. “Well,” she says, sounding somewhat mollified, “at least he has some morals.”
You breathe a silent sigh of relief, nodding along. “Exactly. Daniel’s … very respectful.”
Daniel gives a small, awkward smile, clearly still trying to wrap his head around the situation. “Uh, yeah. Very … respectful.”
Your mother studies him for a moment longer, then nods, satisfied. “Well, I suppose it could be worse.”
You almost laugh at that but manage to keep a straight face. “Right.”
There’s a brief pause as your mother smooths down her dress, glancing around the penthouse like she’s looking for something to criticize. Then, her eyes land back on you, and she smiles — one of those deceptively sweet smiles that always makes you nervous.
“Well,” she says brightly, “since I’m here, I’d love to get to know Daniel a bit better. Why don’t you two join me for dinner tonight?”
You blink, caught off guard. “Dinner? Tonight?”
Your mother nods, clearly not taking no for an answer. “Yes. I think it’s high time I meet this boyfriend of yours properly.”
You glance at Daniel, who’s looking at you with wide, slightly panicked eyes. You can tell he’s regretting every decision that led him to this moment, but there’s no way out now. You’re both trapped.
“Uh, sure,” you say weakly. “We’d love to.”
Your mother beams, clearly pleased with herself. “Wonderful! I’ll have my assistant call to make the reservation. Seven o’clock sharp. You know where. Don’t be late.”
Before you can respond, she’s already turning on her heel, heading toward the door with a satisfied smile on her face. “I’ll see you both tonight,” she calls over her shoulder as she exits, leaving you standing there in stunned silence.
The door clicks shut, and the room is suddenly, blissfully quiet.
You turn to Daniel, who’s staring at you, still half-dazed from sleep and now fully confused about what just happened.
“Boyfriend?” He croaks, his voice rough from the hangover.
You let out a long, exasperated sigh, rubbing your temples. “I panicked.”
He groans, flopping back onto the couch. “Dinner with your mum? Really?”
“Yes. And if you don’t play along, I’m pretty sure she’ll disown me.”
Daniel chuckles weakly, rubbing his temples. “Great. Just great.”
You stare at him for a moment, then flop down next to him on the couch, letting your head fall back against the cushions. “This is a disaster.”
“Eh,” Daniel mutters, eyes closed. “Could be worse.”
You shoot him a look. “How?”
He cracks one eye open, grinning. “At least I didn’t throw up on her.”
You groan, burying your face in your hands. “That’s not funny.”
But when you look up, you can’t help but laugh, because as ridiculous as this entire situation is, somehow, in the madness of it all, you know tonight is going to be even worse.
***
Dinner is already awkward. You can feel the tension every time your mother glances at Daniel, her polite smile not quite reaching her eyes. It’s a small, exclusive restaurant, the kind of place where the waiters wear gloves, and the courses are tiny but outrageously expensive. The chef is renowned for his traditional yet experimental take on Singaporean cuisine, which is perfect because your mother insists on a display of sophistication when it comes to hosting. Unfortunately, that also means the pressure on Daniel is palpable.
Daniel sits across from you, trying to look comfortable, though his hand is constantly fiddling with his napkin under the table. Your mother, seated beside him, is maintaining her usual air of grace, but you can see she’s sizing him up, scrutinizing every bite, every word. And you … you’re just trying to survive.
“So, Daniel,” your mother begins, swirling her wine like a seasoned critic, “what are your long-term plans? With your career, I mean.”
Daniel freezes with his fork halfway to his mouth, the question clearly catching him off guard. He clears his throat, scrambling to find an answer that sounds impressive. “Well, uh, things are a bit … in flux right now,” he says, offering a weak smile. “But I’m working on it.”
Your mother arches an eyebrow. “In flux? That doesn’t sound very … stable.”
You kick Daniel lightly under the table, silently willing him to come up with something better than “in flux.” He glances at you for help, but you just widen your eyes, urging him to recover.
“Yeah, well,” Daniel says, trying to salvage the conversation, “I’ve been racing for a while, you know? Formula 1. It’s a pretty high-pressure job, so … I’m considering my next move carefully.”
Your mother makes a noncommittal hum, clearly unimpressed. “I see.”
You want to sink into the floor.
“I’m going to excuse myself for a moment,” you say quickly, standing from the table. “I’ll be right back.”
Daniel gives you a look that screams *don’t leave me alone with her*, but there’s no way around it. You shoot him an apologetic smile before making your way toward the restroom, leaving him to fend for himself.
As soon as you’re gone, the silence at the table becomes almost deafening. Daniel shifts uncomfortably in his seat, glancing around the room as if he’s suddenly forgotten how to act normal. He’s about to reach for his water glass when he notices your mother watching him closely.
“So,” she says, her tone unnervingly calm, “Daniel.”
He straightens up, unsure if he should be relieved or terrified that she’s addressing him directly. “Yes, ma’am?”
“I think we should speak candidly, don’t you?” She says, her voice as smooth as silk but with an edge that makes Daniel’s skin crawl. She reaches into her handbag, and Daniel feels his stomach lurch with nerves. What’s she going to pull out? A contract? Some kind of questionnaire?
What she pulls out, however, is much worse.
It’s a small, velvet box. A ring box.
Daniel’s heart stops. His eyes widen as he stares at the box, his mind spinning, trying to make sense of what’s happening.
Your mother places the box delicately in front of him, her expression serene, like she’s offering him a cup of tea rather than a proposal-sized bombshell. “I’ve been waiting for Y/N to bring home a boy for quite some time,” she says, her voice soft but pointed. “And now that she has … well, I can’t let this moment pass.”
Daniel opens and closes his mouth, but no words come out. He’s too stunned to respond, completely blindsided by this sudden turn of events.
Your mother’s eyes gleam, and she leans in slightly, lowering her voice as if she’s sharing a secret. “Of course, I would have preferred if you were Singaporean,” she continues, her tone just a touch sharper, “but I’m not getting any younger, and I want grandchildren. So, we can’t be picky, can we?”
Daniel’s mind goes blank. He tries to form a coherent thought, a response, anything, but all that comes out is a strangled, “I … uh …”
Your mother regards him with the same calm, calculating gaze she’s had since the start of dinner, as though this entire interaction is completely normal. “You’ll do,” she says simply, and there’s a finality in her tone that makes it clear this isn’t up for debate.
Daniel stares at the ring box, his brain short-circuiting. Is this really happening? He glances around the restaurant, half-expecting someone to jump out and tell him it’s all some elaborate prank. But no one does. It’s just him, your mother, and the heavy weight of that velvet box sitting between them.
He’s completely out of his depth. He can’t even think of how to respond to your mother’s words, let alone the fact that she’s just essentially handed him an engagement ring.
“I-” he starts again, but his throat is dry, and nothing coherent follows.
“Daniel,” she interrupts smoothly, her gaze sharpening. “You’re a good man, I can tell. And you’re very … respectful.” The word drips with meaning, making Daniel shift in his seat.
Before he can stammer out anything in return, the restroom door swings open, and you reappear, walking back toward the table, blissfully unaware of the bomb that’s just been dropped.
Daniel panics. His mind races as you approach, and without thinking, he snatches the ring box off the table, slipping it into his jacket pocket in one swift movement. His heart is racing, his palms suddenly sweaty, but he tries to keep his expression neutral.
“Everything alright?” You ask, sliding back into your seat, oblivious to the tension radiating from both Daniel and your mother.
Daniel clears his throat, forcing a tight smile. “Yep. All good.”
Your mother smiles pleasantly, folding her hands in her lap. “Oh, we were just having a lovely little chat.”
You look between them suspiciously, but there’s no sign of the chaos that just occurred. Daniel’s poker face is impressive, but you can sense something is off. You raise an eyebrow at him, and he just gives you a strained smile in return.
The rest of dinner is a blur. You try to focus on the conversation, but your mother seems to be on her best behavior, keeping things light and superficial. Daniel is unusually quiet, nodding along and making polite comments when necessary, but there’s something distant about him, like he’s somewhere else entirely.
By the time dessert arrives, you can’t shake the feeling that something happened while you were gone. But Daniel isn’t saying a word, and your mother’s serene expression betrays nothing.
As the waiter clears the last of the plates, your mother dabs at her mouth with her napkin, looking between the two of you with an air of satisfaction. “Well,” she says, standing from the table, “this has been lovely. I’m so glad we could all spend this time together.”
You force a smile, standing as well. “Yes, of course. It was … lovely.”
Daniel stands too, his movements a little stiffer than usual, like he’s trying to keep his hands from shaking. “Thank you for dinner, Mrs. Y/L/N,” he says politely, though his voice is a bit strained.
Your mother gives him one last, long look, then smiles warmly. “Oh, Daniel, you’re always welcome. Anytime.”
With that, she gathers her things and heads for the door, leaving you and Daniel standing there in stunned silence. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, turning to Daniel.
“Well, that wasn’t too bad, was it?” You ask, trying to lighten the mood.
Daniel gives a weak chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah … not too bad.”
You narrow your eyes at him, picking up on the odd tone in his voice. “Are you sure? You’ve been acting weird since I got back to the table.”
He blinks, his hand instinctively brushing the pocket where the ring box is hidden. “Uh, yeah. I’m fine. Just … full. Really full.”
You raise an eyebrow, not entirely convinced, but decide to let it slide for now. “Alright. If you say so.”
As you both head for the door, Daniel’s mind is still racing, the weight of the ring box burning a hole in his pocket. He has no idea what to do with it, or what your mother expects from him, but one thing is for sure — he’s in way over his head.
And he’s not sure how much longer he can keep pretending.
***
Back at your penthouse, the atmosphere feels … tense. Not the sort of charged tension from earlier, but something more fragile, awkward. The kind that makes everything feel a bit too quiet, like the air is too thick with things unsaid. You and Daniel are sitting on opposite ends of the plush couch in your living room. It’s not that big of a couch, but the distance feels enormous.
Daniel is fidgeting, running a hand through his hair, tapping his fingers on his knee. You’re sitting with your arms crossed, staring at him, waiting. But waiting for what, exactly? Neither of you knows. The silence stretches between you both, and it’s unbearable. Every breath feels louder than it should.
“Uh …” Daniel finally starts, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly trying to find something — anything — to say. But nothing seems right, so he just ends up staring back at you, eyes darting around like he’s looking for a way out.
You, on the other hand, are unusually still, your eyes narrowed at him. It’s like you’re waiting for him to make the first move, but he’s not catching on. Not yet.
Daniel swallows hard, and after a moment of hesitation, his hand moves toward his jacket pocket. Your eyes flick to the motion, and his fingers tremble slightly as they close around the velvet box, pulling it out with an awkward kind of determination, as if it’s weighing him down more than anything. He holds it for a second, staring at it like it’s a puzzle he can’t solve.
Then, with a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, he opens the box.
The soft click of the hinge seems impossibly loud in the room, and for a moment, all you can do is stare. The ring glimmers under the soft lighting, catching the faintest reflection of the overhead chandelier. It’s not just any ring. You recognize it immediately.
And then, as if someone flipped a switch, you start laughing.
Daniel’s eyes snap to you in confusion, his brows furrowing. “What … what’s so funny?”
You’re still giggling, pressing your hand to your mouth to muffle the sound, but it doesn’t work. The laughter bubbles up uncontrollably, and Daniel looks like he’s caught between being relieved that you’re not mad and completely baffled by your reaction.
“You-” you manage between breaths, “That ring … that’s my grandmother’s. Oh my God, she’s really lost it.”
Daniel blinks, glancing down at the ring again, his confusion only deepening. “Wait, what?”
“My mother,” you say, wiping a tear from your eye, “She must be really desperate to get me married off if she’s giving out my grandmother’s ring to the first guy I bring to dinner. I can’t believe it.”
Daniel stares at you for a second, then back at the ring. “This is your … grandmother’s?” His voice is shaky, like the absurdity of the situation is just now hitting him.
You nod, biting your lip to stifle another laugh. “Yup. She always said it was meant for the man I’d marry one day. Guess she couldn’t wait any longer.”
Daniel’s face goes through a range of emotions — shock, embarrassment, and finally, something like disbelief. “I … I don’t even know what to say.”
You snicker again, leaning back against the couch and crossing your arms. “I think the bigger question here is — why didn’t you say anything to me? Did you just plan on pocketing the ring and hoping I wouldn’t notice?”
Daniel shifts uncomfortably, his cheeks flushing. “I — I didn’t know what to do. Your mom just … handed it to me. I mean, what was I supposed to say? ‘No, thank you, ma’am, I’m not ready for an arranged marriage just yet?’”
You raise an eyebrow, amused. “That might’ve been a good start.”
He opens his mouth to protest, then closes it again, clearly struggling to find a way out of this. Finally, he lets out a defeated sigh and leans back, running both hands through his hair. “This is insane.”
“You think?” You quip, smirking.
Daniel’s gaze drops to the ring again, and there’s a beat of silence before you speak up, this time your tone more playful than mocking. “Well,” you say, drawing out the word, “if you’re gonna propose, you should at least get on one knee. You know, for tradition’s sake.”
Daniel’s head snaps up, eyes wide in disbelief. “What?”
You laugh again, your teasing smile growing. “I mean, come on. If we’re going through with this charade, you might as well go all in. Get down on one knee, Ricciardo.”
He blinks at you, completely at a loss for words. “You��re not serious.”
“Why not?” You shoot back, still grinning. “What’s stopping you? You don’t have a job anymore, so it’s not like you have much else going on. You could always be my trophy husband.”
There’s a flicker of something in Daniel’s eyes — part shock, part amusement, and maybe just a little bit of something else. “Trophy husband?” He echoes, his voice incredulous.
You shrug, leaning forward and resting your chin on your hand, as if the idea were the most obvious thing in the world. “Yeah. I mean, think about it. You wouldn’t have to work, I’d take care of you. You could just … exist. Isn’t that every guy’s dream?”
Daniel laughs — an actual laugh this time, though it’s tinged with disbelief. “You’re crazy, you know that?”
You grin. “Maybe. But I’m also not wrong.”
For a moment, the room is quiet again, but it’s not the awkward silence from before. This is something lighter, filled with the remnants of laughter and the weight of an unspoken understanding. Daniel is still holding the ring box, his thumb absently running over the velvet surface as he processes everything that’s just happened.
And then, because clearly, the universe hasn’t thrown enough chaos at him lately, Daniel does something that surprises both of you.
He nods.
It’s a small, hesitant nod at first, like he’s not even sure he’s agreeing to anything real. But then he meets your gaze, and there’s a flicker of something — maybe exhaustion, maybe delirium, maybe just the sheer absurdity of it all — and he nods again. This time, more certain.
“Alright,” he says quietly, still staring at the ring. “Okay.”
You freeze, blinking at him in surprise. “Wait … what?”
Daniel looks up at you, his expression unreadable but calm. “I said … okay. Let’s do it.”
For the first time tonight, you’re the one who’s caught off guard. “You’re joking.”
He shakes his head slowly, his lips quirking into a half-smile. “Nope.”
You sit up straighter, suddenly unsure whether you’re still in the middle of some elaborate joke or if the reality of the past few days has finally broken Daniel’s sense of logic. “You — wait, seriously? You’d marry me?”
Daniel shrugs, though there’s a glimmer of humor in his eyes now. “I mean, like you said … I don’t have a job anymore. And hey, being a trophy husband doesn’t sound half bad.”
You stare at him, searching his face for any sign of a punchline. But the longer you look, the more you realize he’s not kidding. He’s serious. Or as serious as someone in his situation can be.
A beat passes. Then another.
And suddenly, you burst into laughter again.
“God, you’re insane,” you say, shaking your head in disbelief. “This whole thing is insane.”
Daniel grins, leaning back into the couch with a relieved sigh, as if your laughter has lifted the tension from the room entirely. “Welcome to my life.”
You shake your head again, still chuckling, though there’s something warm and strange growing in your chest. “I can’t believe I’m even considering this.”
Daniel glances at the ring one more time before closing the box with a soft click and slipping it back into his pocket. “Hey,” he says, his voice softer now, “if nothing else, at least we’ll give your mother something to talk about at her next dinner party.”
You snort, rolling your eyes. “Oh, she’ll have a field day.”
For a moment, the two of you just sit there, side by side on the couch, the absurdity of the night finally settling over you both. It’s ridiculous, completely irrational, and yet somehow, in this moment, it feels … right.
Daniel nudges you with his elbow, breaking the silence. “So … when’s the wedding?”
You groan, but you can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
Daniel chuckles, leaning back into the cushions, finally starting to relax. “Yeah. One step at a time.”
But even as you say it, you can’t shake the feeling that this strange, accidental engagement is just the beginning of something even more complicated.
And maybe you’re okay with that.
***
You come home the next afternoon, practically skipping into the penthouse, your eyes sparkling with excitement. The energy around you is contagious, and even Daniel, who’s lounging on the couch with a glass of water — probably trying to recover from the whirlwind of the past few days — can’t help but smile at your entrance.
“You look … happy,” Daniel says, a slow grin spreading across his face. “What did I miss?”
You clap your hands together like an excited child, barely containing your glee. “I got you something.”
Daniel’s smile falters for a moment, confusion flickering in his eyes. “Wait, what? You got me something?” He straightens up on the couch, his brows furrowing. “You really didn’t have to do that-”
“Shush.” You wave a hand at him, cutting him off before he can protest further. “I wanted to. Trust me, you’re going to love it.”
Daniel chuckles, though there’s a nervous edge to his voice. “Alright, alright. What is it then? A new watch? Shoes?” He pauses, glancing at you skeptically. “Wait, is it another one of your mum’s rings?”
You shake your head, grinning like you’ve just pulled off the best surprise in the world. “Nope. Guess again.”
He raises an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly. “Okay … well, whatever it is, I’m sure it’s great but-”
“I bought Red Bull Racing.”
For a second, it’s like the words don’t register. Daniel blinks at you, his expression blank as his brain tries to process what you just said. There’s a long beat of silence before his mouth finally drops open in disbelief.
“You … you what?”
Your grin widens. “I bought Red Bull Racing. You know, the Formula 1 team? Your old team?” You say it so casually, like you’re talking about picking up a pair of shoes or booking a vacation.
Daniel’s jaw is still hanging open. “You — wait — are you serious?” He’s half laughing now, like he’s trying to figure out if this is some kind of joke. But the look on your face — pure, unfiltered joy — tells him you’re very, very serious.
“Yup!” You say, popping the ‘p’ for emphasis. “Apparently, if you offer double what a team is worth, the owners tend to sell pretty quickly. Who knew?”
Daniel stares at you, completely slack-jawed, like you’ve just told him you bought a small country. “You … bought Red Bull Racing?” His voice cracks a little as he repeats it, as if saying it out loud will make it more real.
You nod, your smile never faltering. “Yup. Just closed the deal this morning.”
“Jesus Christ.” Daniel runs a hand through his hair, looking like he might faint. “Are you insane?”
“Maybe a little,” you admit with a playful shrug. “But it’s an engagement gift, you know? Gotta keep things exciting.”
Daniel lets out a breathless laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “I … I don’t even know what to say. That’s — this is crazy.”
“I know,” you say, beaming. “But crazy is kind of our thing, isn’t it?”
He laughs again, though it’s still a little shaky. “Yeah, I guess it is.”
There’s a pause as Daniel tries to wrap his head around the fact that you, his new fiancée, just bought one of the most successful teams in Formula 1. He stares at you for a moment longer, then blinks, rubbing his temples like he’s getting a headache. “I … I don’t even know where to start. What does that even mean? You’re gonna be the new team owner?”
“Pretty much,” you say, like it’s no big deal. “And I’m planning to do a bit of restructuring. You know, make some changes, shake things up.”
Daniel gives you a skeptical look. “Restructuring? What kind of changes?”
“Well …” You tap your chin, pretending to think about it. “First of all, I figured I’d ask if there’s anyone you’d like me to keep around. I mean, it’s your engagement gift, after all. I want you to be happy with the team.”
Daniel snorts, shaking his head. “I can’t believe we’re even having this conversation.”
You lean closer, your eyes gleaming mischievously. “And I assume you’ll want me to keep your boyfriend, right?”
Daniel freezes, blinking at you in confusion. “My … boyfriend?”
“Yeah,” you say, deadpan. “Max.”
Daniel nearly chokes. “Wait — what?”
You burst out laughing, unable to keep a straight face any longer. “I’m talking about Max Verstappen! Don’t act so surprised.”
Daniel’s face flushes a deep red, and he shakes his head, exasperated. “We’re not — he’s not my — Jesus, you’re impossible.”
You pat his head, still laughing. “Sure, he’s not. Whatever you say.”
Daniel groans, covering his face with his hands. “Oh my God.”
You sit back, grinning at him. “So, do you want me to keep him or not?”
He lowers his hands, shooting you a look that’s half amused, half irritated. “Obviously, you keep him. He’s the best driver on the grid.”
You nod, pretending to jot down notes in the air. “Okay, so keep Max. Got it.”
Daniel leans back against the couch, staring at you like he still can’t believe this is real. “I can’t believe you just bought a Formula 1 team.”
“I can’t believe I didn’t think of it sooner,” you say with a grin.
Daniel laughs, though it’s tinged with disbelief. “And you’re just … going to be the boss now?”
You shrug. “Why not? It’s not like I haven’t run a business before. Plus, how hard can it be to manage a Formula 1 team?”
He raises an eyebrow at you. “You do realize you’ll be dealing with, like, a whole bunch of egos and drama, right? It’s not just about racing. There’s politics, sponsorships, technical regulations …”
You wave a hand dismissively. “Details, details. I’ll figure it out.”
Daniel shakes his head, still grinning. “You’re unbelievable.”
“And that’s why you like me,” you quip, flashing him a playful wink.
Daniel’s smile softens, and for a moment, there’s a flicker of something in his eyes that you can’t quite place. But then he shakes his head again, chuckling. “Yeah, something like that.”
The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, and Daniel’s gaze drifts back to the ring box still sitting on the coffee table between you. It feels surreal — like the last few days have been one long, crazy dream that neither of you can wake up from. But somehow, despite all the madness, there’s a strange sense of peace settling over the room.
Finally, Daniel breaks the silence with a quiet laugh. “So … when do you get to meet the team?”
You grin. “Soon enough. I’ll introduce you as my fiancé. It’ll be fun to see the look on everyone’s faces.”
Daniel snorts, shaking his head. “Yeah, I’m sure that’ll go over well.”
“Oh, come on,” you tease. “You’ll love it. Don’t you like being the center of attention?”
He shoots you a playful glare. “I’m starting to regret this engagement.”
You laugh, leaning back into the couch. “Too late. You’re stuck with me now.”
Daniel chuckles, but there’s a warmth in his eyes as he looks at you. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
***
You and Daniel are curled up together on the plush couch, nestled under a thick blanket, a pint of ice cream balanced between the two of you. The glow of the TV flickers across the room as Crazy Rich Asians plays in the background, the glamorous scenes of Singapore flashing on the screen. You scoop a spoonful of ice cream and pop it into your mouth, your eyes glued to the over-the-top depiction of high society that, to you, feels more like a parody than reality.
“I mean, come on,” you mutter around a mouthful of ice cream, shaking your head. “That’s not how any of this works.”
Daniel glances at you, one eyebrow raised in amusement. “What do you mean? It looks pretty fancy to me.”
You roll your eyes, waving your spoon toward the screen. “Yeah, because all of us crazy rich Asians are just constantly jetting off to private islands in the middle of the week. And, of course, we throw dramatic, lavish parties for every minor inconvenience.”
Daniel grins, leaning back against the couch as he scoops up some ice cream. “I dunno, the whole secret wedding dress thing seemed pretty realistic to me.”
You nudge him playfully with your elbow, laughing. “Please. If anything, that’s understated.”
Daniel chuckles, shaking his head. “Alright, alright, so maybe Hollywood doesn’t exactly nail the rich lifestyle. But it’s entertaining.”
“Entertaining?” You snort, raising an eyebrow. “It’s borderline satire. Half the time, I’m watching these movies like, ‘Are you serious? Who even does that?’”
Daniel laughs again, clearly enjoying your commentary more than the actual movie. “Okay, but admit it, the wedding scene was pretty epic.”
You sigh dramatically. “Fine, I’ll give them that one. The water running down the aisle was a nice touch.”
“See? Even you have to admit there’s some good stuff in there,” Daniel says with a grin, licking his spoon.
You lean back against the couch, settling more comfortably into Daniel’s side as the movie continues to play. The ice cream between you starts to melt slightly, but neither of you seem to care, too caught up in the comfort of the moment. Your head rests on Daniel’s shoulder, and his arm is loosely draped around you.
There’s a comfortable silence between you two for a few minutes, the movie providing a soft background noise as you both watch absently. Then, without looking away from the screen, you break the silence with a casual question.
“Hey, so … do you want to drive for Red Bull next year?”
The question seems to catch Daniel off guard. His hand, mid-way to another scoop of ice cream, freezes in the air. He turns his head slightly to look at you, eyebrows furrowed in thought. He doesn’t say anything at first, and the silence stretches out long enough for you to glance up at him, wondering why he’s taking so long to respond.
“Daniel?” You prompt softly.
He pauses the movie, the room suddenly quiet without the chatter of characters and dramatic music. His face is serious now, a stark contrast to the playful mood from moments before. He places the spoon down in the pint and leans back, exhaling a long breath.
“I don’t know,” he finally says, his voice soft, almost hesitant.
You blink at him, confused. “You don’t know? What do you mean?”
Daniel rubs a hand over his face, looking down at his lap as if the answer is written there somewhere. “I mean, I don’t know if … if I deserve it. That seat.”
There’s a heavy pause as you process his words. The casualness of the evening suddenly feels distant, replaced by something more serious, more vulnerable. You turn slightly, facing him more directly now, your hand reaching out to rest on his knee.
“Why would you say that?” You ask, your voice quiet but firm.
Daniel looks up at you, his expression pained. “I’ve been dropped twice now. McLaren, VCARB … And, honestly, I didn’t do as well as I wanted. As well as they wanted. What if I’m just not cut out for it anymore? Maybe the sport’s moved on, and I haven’t.”
You frown, shaking your head in disbelief. “That’s not true. You’re still an incredible driver.”
Daniel lets out a bitter laugh, though there’s no humor in it. “Incredible? You’ve seen the results. I’m nowhere near where I used to be. And Max? He’s on another level. It’s his team now.”
“Okay, first of all,” you say, your tone shifting into something more assertive, “don’t compare yourself to Max. You’re both amazing in your own ways. And second, this isn’t about what they want, Daniel. It’s about what you want.”
Daniel doesn’t respond right away. He just stares at the frozen image on the TV screen, lost in his thoughts. His jaw is tense, and you can tell he’s grappling with something deeper, something that’s been weighing on him for a long time.
You squeeze his knee gently, your voice softening. “You’ve still got it, Daniel. I know you do. And so does everyone else.”
He glances at you, his eyes searching your face like he’s trying to find some kind of reassurance in your words. “But what if … what if I can’t get back to where I was? What if I’m just holding onto something that’s not there anymore?”
“You’re not,” you say firmly, not missing a beat. “You’ve had a rough few seasons, sure. But that doesn’t mean you’ve lost it. It just means you’ve had setbacks. And if anyone knows how to bounce back, it’s you.”
Daniel still looks unsure, and you can tell there’s a part of him that’s scared — scared of failing again, scared of not living up to the expectations that have been placed on him, both by himself and by others.
You lean in closer, your voice gentle but insistent. “Daniel, you’re one of the best drivers in the world. You’ve proved that time and time again. Red Bull wouldn’t have taken you back if they didn’t believe in you. And I wouldn’t have bought the damn team if I didn’t believe in you either.”
A small smile tugs at the corner of Daniel’s lips at that, though it’s fleeting. He runs a hand through his hair, exhaling deeply. “I just … I don’t know if I’m ready to go back. I don’t know if I can handle it if things go wrong again.”
You nod slowly, understanding the fear behind his words. It’s not just about driving. It’s about the pressure, the weight of expectation, the fear of failure.
“I get that,” you say softly. “But you can’t let fear stop you from doing what you love. You’ve been through a lot, I know. But that doesn’t mean it’s over. You have so much more left to give. And I’ll be there with you, every step of the way.”
Daniel meets your gaze, his eyes softening at your words. For a moment, the vulnerability in his expression is raw, unguarded. Then he reaches out, taking your hand in his, giving it a small squeeze.
“You really think I can do it?” He asks quietly.
You smile, squeezing his hand back. “I know you can.”
Daniel lets out a slow breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly as some of the tension seems to drain from him. He looks at you for a long moment, then nods, as if finally coming to terms with something inside himself.
“Alright,” he says, his voice a little steadier now. “I’ll think about it.”
“That’s all I’m asking,” you say with a soft smile.
He leans back into the couch, and you both settle into a comfortable silence again, the tension from earlier slowly fading away. You reach for the remote and unpause the movie, but neither of you are really paying attention to it anymore. Instead, you both sit there, sharing the ice cream, the weight of the conversation lingering in the air but somehow lighter now.
***
The evening is quiet, the city’s hum muted behind the large windows of your penthouse. The movie’s credits are rolling, but neither you nor Daniel has made a move to turn off the TV. Instead, you both sit there, wrapped up in the soft blanket, the nearly empty pint of ice cream abandoned on the coffee table. There’s a sense of calm in the air, but underneath it, you can feel something unspoken, simmering just below the surface.
You glance at Daniel, who’s leaning back into the couch, his gaze distant. He’s still processing, you can tell — about Red Bull, about everything that’s been thrown at him lately. The weight of it all seems heavier in the silence.
After a long moment, you shift slightly, turning your body to face him more directly. “Daniel,” you say softly, your voice breaking the quiet.
He blinks, coming back to the present, and looks at you with a small, tired smile. “Yeah?”
“You’ve said something a lot that I keep thinking about,” you begin, carefully choosing your words. “The whole ‘enjoy the butterflies’ thing. I’ve heard you say it in interviews, but I don’t think I ever really understood what you meant by it.”
Daniel’s smile falters a bit, and he looks away, his expression growing thoughtful. He doesn’t say anything at first, and you can see he’s retreating into his thoughts again, the way he does when he’s trying to figure out how to articulate something that matters to him.
You reach out, placing a hand gently on his arm, coaxing him back to the conversation. “What does it really mean to you? Enjoy the butterflies?”
Daniel takes a deep breath, his fingers fiddling with the edge of the blanket. “It’s … it’s kinda hard to explain,” he says slowly, his accent thicker when he’s being reflective. “It’s not just about racing, you know? It’s more about the feeling — the nerves, the excitement, the anticipation. All those little moments that make your stomach flip.”
He pauses, glancing at you as if gauging whether you’re following. You nod, encouraging him to continue.
“I think,” he says, his voice quieter now, “for the longest time, I used to hate that feeling. The butterflies. It always made me feel … unsure. Like, am I good enough? Am I ready? Every time I’d get in the car, no matter how many times I’d done it before, I’d still feel that little twinge of anxiety. And for a while, I thought it was a bad thing.”
You listen intently, your eyes never leaving his face as he speaks. There’s something raw and real in his words, a vulnerability that you don’t often see in him.
“But then, I don’t know,” he continues, “at some point, I started to see it differently. Like, maybe those butterflies aren’t a sign of weakness. Maybe they’re a sign that you’re doing something that matters. That you’re alive. That you care.”
You nod slowly, your hand still resting on his arm. “That makes sense.”
Daniel meets your gaze again, his eyes softening. “Yeah. So now, when I feel the butterflies, I try to embrace it, you know? Instead of fighting it. Because if you’re not nervous, if you don’t feel anything, then what’s the point?”
You lean back slightly, absorbing his words. There’s a quiet wisdom in what he’s saying, a reminder that life’s most meaningful moments are often the ones that scare us the most. You think about how that applies to you — not just in your relationship with Daniel, but in everything. The choices you’ve made, the risks you’ve taken, the moments when you’ve doubted yourself. Maybe those butterflies are a part of the journey, too.
“I get that,” you say softly, nodding. “But … do you still feel them? After all this time?”
Daniel smiles, but it’s tinged with something bittersweet. “Every single time.”
You look at him for a long moment, the weight of his honesty settling between you. There’s something comforting in knowing that even someone like Daniel — someone who’s faced so many high-pressure moments, who’s been at the top of his game — still feels that same uncertainty, that same flutter of nerves.
“But now,” he adds, his voice softening even more, “I think the butterflies aren’t just about fear. They’re about excitement, too. Like, yeah, maybe I’m nervous, but I’m also excited because it means I still care. I still love what I do, even when it’s hard.”
You smile gently, your hand giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. “That’s beautiful, Daniel. Really.”
He chuckles lightly, looking almost embarrassed by the compliment. “I don’t know about beautiful, but it helps me get through the tough days.”
There’s a pause, and you can feel the conversation shifting into something deeper, something more personal. You take a breath, feeling the moment settling between you like a quiet pulse.
“Do you ever get tired of it, though?” You ask, your voice barely above a whisper. “The butterflies, the pressure, the weight of it all?”
Daniel tilts his head back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling. He doesn’t answer right away, but when he does, his voice is tinged with a kind of quiet resignation. “Yeah. Sometimes. Sometimes it feels like too much, like it’s all building up and I just … don’t know how to keep going.”
His words hit you harder than you expected, and for a moment, you’re not sure how to respond. You’ve seen Daniel at his best, but you’ve also seen him at his lowest. The moments when he’s struggled, when he’s doubted himself. And yet, through it all, he’s always managed to push through. To keep going.
“But,” he continues after a beat, his voice soft but steady, “those moments don’t last forever. And when they pass, when I’m back in the car, or when I’ve crossed the finish line, it’s like … I remember why I do it. Why I love it.”
You watch him closely, your heart swelling with both admiration and empathy. “You’re stronger than you think, Daniel.”
He glances at you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just stubborn.”
You laugh softly, shaking your head. “I think it’s a little bit of both.”
Daniel grins at that, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. He shifts on the couch, turning more toward you, his hand reaching out to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. There’s a softness in his touch, a quiet intimacy that makes your heart skip a beat.
“You know,” he says quietly, “you’ve got your own butterflies too. I’ve seen them.”
You raise an eyebrow, slightly surprised. “Oh, really?”
Daniel nods, his eyes locking onto yours. “Yeah. Whenever you’re about to make a big decision or when something’s stressing you out. You get this look in your eyes, like you’re bracing yourself for something.”
You blink, taken aback by his observation. “I didn’t realize you noticed.”
He smiles gently. “I notice a lot about you.”
The room falls into a comfortable silence again, the weight of the conversation hanging in the air like a shared secret. You can feel your heart beating a little faster, the warmth of Daniel’s words wrapping around you like a blanket.
“Do you ever wish the butterflies would go away?” You ask after a moment, your voice soft.
Daniel shakes his head slowly. “No. I don’t think I do. Because if they did, that would mean I’ve stopped caring. And I don’t ever want to stop caring.”
You nod, understanding now in a way you didn’t before. The butterflies aren’t something to fear — they’re a reminder that you’re alive, that you’re still passionate, that you’re still fighting for what matters.
You smile softly, leaning in closer to him. “I think I’ll try to enjoy the butterflies a little more.”
Daniel smiles back, his hand gently resting on your cheek. “Good. You should.”
And for the first time in a long time, you feel a sense of peace settle over you — a quiet understanding that, no matter what happens next, you’ll face it with open hearts and, yes, even a few butterflies.
***
The Red Bull Racing factory is a hive of quiet activity. The entire team, from mechanics to engineers, marketing staff to the senior management, stands gathered in a large meeting room just off the factory floor. Whispers ripple through the crowd, conversations hushed and speculative. It’s unusual to have the entire team assembled like this — especially during the off-season.
But today is different. They’ve been told that the team’s new owner will be making her first official appearance, and no one knows what to expect.
The announcement of Red Bull Racing’s sale had come out of nowhere, a shock to everyone. No one knew who the buyer was, only that it was someone with enough money to pull off the purchase in record time. The rumors had flown, the speculation mounting over the past few weeks, but nothing concrete had leaked. All they knew was that something big was coming. Something — someone — new.
The murmur of voices grows louder as the minutes tick by. Eyes dart toward the doors at the far end of the room, the anticipation palpable. Then, the doors swing open.
You walk in, a vision of confidence, head held high. The noise in the room instantly dies down, replaced by the stunned silence of dozens of pairs of eyes turning in your direction. Beside you, Daniel walks in, his hands casually tucked into his pockets, a familiar but unusual sight for the Red Bull team.
The shock is immediate, rippling through the room like a wave. Everyone stares, first at you, then at Daniel, as if trying to piece together how any of this makes sense. The whispers start up again, but you don’t let it faze you. Instead, you step forward with a wide, almost mischievous smile on your face.
“Good morning, everyone!” You greet them brightly, clapping your hands once, the sound echoing in the room. “I’m sure most of you have heard by now, but allow me to introduce myself formally. I’m your new boss.”
You pause, letting the statement sink in as the team stares at you in stunned silence. “My name is Y/N Y/L/N, and I’m thrilled to be taking over as the owner of Red Bull Racing.”
There’s a beat of silence, the team processing the bombshell, before a smattering of hesitant applause starts. You nod, acknowledging the claps, but there’s still a palpable tension in the room. You know they’re still confused, still reeling from the surprise. You’re not done yet.
“And I have one more introduction to make,” you say, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of your lips. You glance over at Daniel, who’s standing beside you, a little less sure of himself than usual but still flashing that signature Ricciardo smile. “This is my fiancé, Daniel Ricciardo.”
The room gasps. The shock is real this time, murmurs breaking out instantly among the team. Fiancé? Some people turn to each other, others crane their necks to get a better look at Daniel. The whispers intensify, but you continue as if none of it fazes you.
“And I have some exciting news for all of you today,” you say, your voice cutting through the growing chatter. You step forward again, your gaze sweeping across the room. “With the team being restructured, and with Sergio Perez deciding to take some time away from the sport to be with his family …” You pause, letting that hang for a moment, watching the confusion bloom on their faces. “I’m thrilled to announce that Daniel will be returning to Red Bull Racing as a driver next season.”
The room falls completely silent again, a collective intake of breath. For a long moment, no one says a word. Then, as if on cue, someone begins clapping. It’s slow at first, hesitant, but then others join in, and soon the room is filled with applause. The realization starts to settle in.
Daniel Ricciardo — back at Red Bull.
You glance at Daniel, and his eyes meet yours. For a second, you see the flicker of uncertainty in them, the weight of everything hanging in the air. But then, as the applause grows, you see the shift — the spark of confidence returning to him, the slow curve of a genuine smile spreading across his face.
Daniel steps forward, raising a hand to quiet the crowd, but they don’t stop clapping for several more seconds. Finally, the noise dies down enough for him to speak.
“Wow, uh … thanks for that,” Daniel begins, clearly taken aback by the reaction. He rubs the back of his neck, his grin widening as he takes in the faces of the people who, not so long ago, had been his team. “I’ve gotta admit, it feels pretty good to be standing here again.”
A few people in the crowd chuckle, a ripple of warmth spreading through the room.
“I know it’s been a strange few years,” Daniel continues, his voice more serious now. “There were times when I wasn’t sure if I’d ever get back to this place. But when Y/N came into my life, well, let’s just say she’s good at making the impossible happen.” He glances at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of admiration and affection, and you feel your heart flutter in response.
The room watches this exchange, enraptured. There’s something surreal about seeing Daniel Ricciardo, a former Red Bull driver, now standing next to the team’s new owner — his fiancée, no less. It’s a lot for them to process.
Daniel turns back to the team, his expression softening as he addresses them. “This place has always been special to me,” he says quietly. “I’ve had some of my best moments in my career here, and I’m so grateful for the chance to come back and create more memories with you all. I know it’s not going to be easy, and I’ve got a lot to prove. But I’m ready. I’m ready to give everything I’ve got.”
The room bursts into applause again, louder this time, more genuine. The team members seem to be warming up to the idea now, their initial shock replaced by excitement. A few of the senior engineers, who had been with the team during Daniel’s previous stint, exchange nods of approval. There’s a growing sense of anticipation, the mood in the room shifting.
You watch Daniel as he steps back, the energy of the moment clearly lifting him. He catches your eye again, and for a brief moment, it feels like it’s just the two of you in the room. His smile is softer now, more private, meant just for you. You feel a surge of warmth, the bond between you solidifying even more in this shared experience.
Then, clearing your throat, you step forward again, reclaiming the attention of the room. “Now, I know this is a lot to take in,” you say, your tone playful. “But don’t worry. Daniel and I aren’t here to shake things up too much … unless we need to.” A few chuckles ripple through the room at that. “We’re committed to making sure this team remains at the top of the sport. And we’re going to do whatever it takes to get there.”
The applause comes again, more enthusiastic this time. You can feel the room shifting from shock to acceptance, and even a little excitement. The Red Bull team is known for its resilience, for thriving in the face of challenges, and this is no different.
As the clapping fades, one of the senior team members — a man with graying hair and a knowing smile — steps forward. He glances between you and Daniel, then says, “Well, if Daniel’s back, I guess we better start preparing for some shoeys.”
The room bursts into laughter, and even Daniel can’t help but laugh along with them, shaking his head. “You better believe it,” he says with a grin.
Slowly, the group begins to disperse, people heading back to their workstations, some still murmuring excitedly about the news. You catch snippets of conversation — mentions of Daniel’s return, your surprising entrance, and speculation about what’s next for the team.
As the room clears, Daniel turns to you, his expression soft. “You’re really something, you know that?”
You smile at him, feeling the weight of the moment settle around you. “It’s just the beginning,” you say, your voice filled with determination. “We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us.”
Daniel grins, reaching for your hand. “Yeah, but I think we’re gonna be just fine.”
You squeeze his hand, your heart swelling with excitement and love. Together, you’ve just taken the first step into a new chapter — one filled with challenges, risks, and plenty of butterflies. But you know, with Daniel by your side, there’s nothing you can’t handle.
And as you leave the factory hand in hand, the future stretches out before you — unknown, thrilling, and entirely yours to shape.
***
The roars from the Melbourne crowd reverberate through the air as the final lap of the Australian Grand Prix begins. The cameras lock onto Daniel’s Red Bull, the #3 flashing as it leads the pack by several seconds. The circuit is electric, and the commentators can barely contain themselves.
“Here we are on the final lap,” David Croft’s voice crackles through the Sky Sports broadcast, almost trembling with excitement. “Daniel Ricciardo, the hometown hero, is this close to claiming his ninth career win — and his first ever win here in Australia. You can hear the crowd, the energy in the air — it’s absolutely incredible!”
Beside him, Martin Brundle jumps in, his tone equal parts admiration and disbelief. “This is what the fans have been waiting for, for years. After everything Daniel’s been through — leaving Red Bull, bouncing between teams, and now back with Red Bull and at the front of the grid — this will be a monumental moment, not just for Daniel, but for every Australian who’s dreamed of seeing him on the top step here.”
The camera flickers briefly to the Red Bull garage. You’re standing at the front, practically on your toes as you watch the live feed with bated breath, every nerve in your body tense with anticipation. You’re surrounded by engineers, mechanics, and team members, but it’s clear that all eyes in the garage are on you. The new team owner, the mastermind behind Daniel’s return to the team. And now, you’re witnessing the culmination of it all.
“Look at that,” Brundle says as the camera focuses on you. “There’s Daniel’s fiancée and the new team owner, Y/N Y/L/N. You’ve got to imagine what this moment means for her too, after buying the team and making the bold decision to bring Daniel back. She’s been nothing short of instrumental in this comeback.”
Crofty’s voice grows louder as Daniel approaches the final few corners. “And here he comes now, through Turn 13, a perfect line through there — keeping it clean. The crowd is going wild, and you can see why! He’s a few corners away from victory, from making history on home soil.”
As the camera switches back to the track, Daniel’s race engineer comes over the radio, his voice steady but filled with excitement.
“Alright, mate. Just bring it home now. One more corner. You’ve got this.”
There’s a brief pause before Daniel’s reply crackles over the airwaves, his voice barely containing his elation. “I’ve got it, mate! I’ve bloody got it!”
The Red Bull flies around the final corner, the engine roaring, and Daniel rockets down the straight toward the checkered flag. The crowd’s roar is deafening as he crosses the line.
“And there it is! Daniel Ricciardo wins the Australian Grand Prix!” Crofty yells, his voice barely audible over the roaring fans. “His ninth career win — and what a win it is! His first win here in Australia, and you can just feel how much this means to him and the crowd!”
The camera immediately cuts back to you, your face a mixture of disbelief and overwhelming joy. You’re laughing, hands clasped over your mouth as the enormity of the moment sinks in. The entire Red Bull garage erupts into cheers, people hugging and high-fiving all around you, but you’re frozen for a moment, just soaking in the euphoria of the victory.
“Look at her reaction!” Brundle says with a chuckle. “You can tell just how much this moment means to the team owner. It’s not just a win for Daniel — it’s a win for them. What a partnership!”
The scene cuts to Daniel inside the cockpit, raising his fists in victory as he slows the car on the cool-down lap. His voice comes over the radio again, almost breathless.
“YEEEEES! Let’s go! Oh my god, we did it! We actually did it!” Daniel shouts, his voice cracking with emotion.
“Mate, you’re a race winner in Australia!” His race engineer’s voice is filled with pride. “Take it in, soak it all in. This is your moment.”
“I’ve waited so long for this …” Daniel’s voice is quieter now, more introspective. “Thank you, everyone. This is unbelievable.”
As he makes his way around the track on the cool-down lap, the camera follows him, showing the thousands of fans on their feet, waving Australian flags and cheering for their hero. It’s an emotional scene, the kind that will go down in F1 history. The commentators fall silent for a moment, letting the raw emotion of the moment speak for itself.
Finally, Crofty breaks the silence. “Daniel Ricciardo has just made history. He’s become the first Australian driver to win here in Melbourne in front of his home crowd, and you can just see how much this means — not just to him, but to every fan in the stands.”
Daniel pulls into parc fermé, his car screeching to a halt under the massive “P1” sign. The mechanics are already leaning over the barriers, waiting for him, their arms raised in celebration. Daniel clambers out of the car, pulls off his helmet, and lets out a roar, his signature grin plastered on his face. The crowd erupts once more, their hero standing victorious before them.
The Red Bull team surrounds him, cheering and patting him on the back. But Daniel's eyes are searching, scanning the pit lane for you. Finally, they find you in the crowd, and without hesitation, he breaks away from the chaos and runs straight to you.
“Hey, boss,” he says, pulling you into a tight hug, his voice barely above the roar of the fans. “Did I do alright?”
You laugh, pushing him back playfully. “I’d say you did more than alright.”
Daniel grins, his smile wide and genuine, and then he’s swept back into the celebrations, the team lifting him onto their shoulders as the cameras capture every second.
The podium celebrations come next, the lights glittering, the trophy standing proud. Daniel, Max Verstappen, and Charles Leclerc climb onto the podium, their faces reflecting the joy and exhaustion of a hard-fought race. The national anthems play, first for Australia, then for Austria, and the crowd sings along, their pride and passion tangible.
When the champagne is finally handed out, Daniel holds his bottle aloft, savoring the moment. He walks to the edge of the podium, holding his finger up to signal the crowd. The fans know what’s coming. The mechanics in the garage know what’s coming. You, standing just below the podium, know what’s coming.
Daniel unlaces his boot and fills it with champagne, holding it high as he looks out over the sea of fans. The crowd roars with approval.
“Oh no …” Brundle says with a laugh, watching from the Sky Sports commentary booth. “Here we go. It wouldn’t be a Daniel Ricciardo victory without a shoey!”
Daniel grins and, with the flair only he can pull off, drinks the champagne from his shoe. The crowd cheers louder than ever, reveling in the chaotic joy of the moment. Even Max, standing beside him, cracks a smile as Daniel offers him the boot, but Max declines with a laugh, shaking his head.
As Daniel finishes the shoey, he looks down at you with a cheeky grin. He points the boot in your direction, his eyes twinkling.
“Wanna join in?” He shouts down, loud enough for the camera to catch.
You cross your arms, shaking your head with a smirk. “Absolutely not.”
Daniel laughs, tossing the boot aside and grabbing the champagne again, spraying the crowd as the podium celebration continues. The cameras capture everything, the joy, the fun, the relief of a long journey finally reaching its pinnacle.
Back in the commentary booth, Crofty speaks again, his voice soft but filled with admiration. “Daniel Ricciardo, a winner in Australia, celebrating in true Ricciardo style. This win means more than just points on the board — it’s the result of hard work, perseverance, and a love for racing.”
Brundle nods, his tone warm. “You’ve got to hand it to Daniel, and to Y/N Y/L/N as well. She brought him back to Red Bull, believed in him when others didn’t, and now they’re celebrating together on the biggest stage. It’s a fairytale moment.”
As the champagne rains down on the podium, Daniel glances over at you again, his face still lit up with that signature Ricciardo grin. And even though you’re not up there with him, he knows that none of this would’ve been possible without you by his side.
This is your team, your driver, and your moment.
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lemonlover1110 · 3 days
Text
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬
Satoru Gojo
[Chapter 30] Graduation
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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader
Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Fluff
*THIS IS IT thank you all so much for reading, this truly has been a journey and I couldn't have done it without your support. love you all so much🫂❤️
**Too lazy to put all the smut warnings, it's nothing too extreme just some face sitting and whatnot :p
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“Are you ready to go?” Satoru asks, walking into your room to find you sitting in front of the vanity. You’re finishing up your makeup, putting the lash touch on your lips. His heart skips a beat, and he could faint right at this moment. He’s the luckiest man alive. He still has to rush you, “You can’t be late to your own graduation.”
“Is Anzu ready?” You question, and Satoru hums in response. He walks over to the bed and takes a seat to watch you.
“What? Do you not think I’m responsible enough? I can handle a baby.” Satoru says, as if you didn’t find your daughter nearly chewing an extension cord yesterday because he took his eyes off her for a second. You’re taking an awfully long time to answer the question which makes Satoru scoff, “She’s ready and with your mom.”
“Good.” You answer, turning your attention back to yourself yet again. Which type of earrings will be best? Satoru got you some beautiful diamond earrings for this occasion but you’re not sure you want to wear them– You don’t want to show off to everybody that your fiancé is filthy rich.
“Why don’t you put on the ones I got you?” Satoru sees that you’re struggling to pick the earrings you’ll wear for the night, so he’ll make a suggestion. You ignore him though, and he can’t help but laugh. He stands up, “I’ll go check on Ren while you finish up then.”
“Yeah, make sure he showered.” You tell him, and Satoru hums in response. He walks out of the room, getting ready to deal with the nine-year-old even though the child only seems to listen to you. The man feels like neither of his kids really listen to him, but he guesses he deserves it.
You smile back at yourself in the mirror, elated with how things go. Accepting Satoru’s breakfast offer as a date made your life change– You’d argue for the better, though some people didn’t want you and Satoru to get back together. It took you a while to officially start dating, since Satoru was married; even though you knew his marriage wasn’t authentic, you didn’t want to interfere with any of the mess that was going on.
Satoru began the divorce process with Sayo not too long after asking you out. It was a mutual decision that they kept hidden for as long as they possibly could. Even after their divorce was finalized, they refused to share the news with Sayo’s parents. You understood completely, knowing that it was a bigger issue than what it seemed. You had Satoru all to yourself either way, you didn’t really care what a random pair of old people thought. 
The truth came to light eventually, when you got pregnant with your baby girl. It ended Sayo’s relationship with her parents, but time has passed and she’s much happier without them. It was around two years ago, when Ren kept begging for a baby brother, and Satoru convinced you that it would be a great idea. You wanted another baby so there wasn’t the need for too much convincing either way. Unluckily for Ren, Anzu ended up being a baby girl. 
If you were given the chance to go back in time and change something, you’d keep everything the same. Maybe you would’ve kicked Satoru’s groin once or twice, but you’d do it all again. For Ren, for Anzu. For Satoru as well, though you wouldn’t admit it outloud.
“Ren isn’t ready!” Satoru yells, and you can’t help but chuckle as you roll your eyes. Your sweet baby boy is slowly becoming disobedient, and it’s a bit frustrating. You knew it was going to happen eventually, it’s just hard to believe that your baby boy is slowly setting off on his own adventure.
“Ren! Come here!” You yell, and within a matter of seconds your son comes running into your room. He doesn’t listen to Satoru, but you? He’ll listen to almost everything you have to say.
“What’s up?” He asks, and you look him over. You shake your head disappointedly, seeing that he’s still wearing pajamas.
“Do you want to stay home? Mrs. Gojo is more than happy to babysit.” Even when the woman is about to become your mother-in-law, you refuse to call her anything other than Mrs. Gojo. She’s the grandmother of your two kids, but you refuse to acknowledge her in any other way.
You barely have a relationship with her, for many reasons. Main one is that Satoru doesn’t really want to associate himself with her, not after everything that went down with Ren. Frankly, the only reason he even speaks to her is because Ren adores her– Though you believe that his opinion about his grandma is slowly changing because Ren quickly shakes his head.
“We’re going to her home later anyway, you can stand behind.” You assure him, but he shakes his head before darting out of the room. You almost laugh before yelling, “Make sure you don’t stink!”
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“There she is!” You hear Satoru yell, and you turn around to find him with your little family. Your one-year-old squeals at the sight of her mother, while Ren glares at the baby for stealing his spotlight. You walk over to them, taking your baby Anzu into your arms before leaning down to kiss Ren’s forehead. 
“Did you have fun there, Ren?” You ask him, and he shakes his head. He’s not going to have much fun watching a bunch of people that he doesn’t know walk across a stage. Satoru didn’t even give the child his phone. 
“Ignore him, he’s been whining all day long. Where’s my kiss?” Satoru quickly changes the topic and you roll your eyes before pecking his lips. He tries to hug you without squashing the baby, saying, “Congratulations, baby. I’m so proud of you.”
“Thank you, Satoru.” You respond, pecking his lips once again. You notice a couple of missing people from your group, and you question, “Where’s my mom? And Sayo and Shoko? Their little guy?”
“Bathroom.” Ren answers, and you raise your brows. All of them? You can’t exactly blame them, the ceremony was a long one.
“How about we–” You begin but you notice that your little guy is pouty. You know the reason immediately, so you hand Satoru your baby girl and crouch down to bring the child into a hug. “Am I not getting congratulations from the person that I care about the most?”
“Anzu can’t talk yet.” He answers, which almost makes you laugh. Almost. He’s so jealous of his baby sister, which is kind of ironic considering he begged you to have a baby. His attitude certainly changed when he realized that the baby requires a lot of time and attention.
“Ren, you’re the apple of my eye.” You tell him, though the child refuses to listen. Cuddles are less frequent lately since you have a crying baby that needs you, and you barely play with him anymore. “Can mommy at least get a congratulations?”
“Congratulations, mom.” Ren responds, and you feel your heart melt. Even when he’s mad at you, he’s your cute little guy. You’re rubbing your cheek with his, being as affectionate as you can be with the little guy. Though he ends up pushing you away, telling you, “You’re doing too much.” 
“Jeez, what is it with you? One moment you’re all jealous and the next you’re saying I’m doing too much.” You chuckle, standing up. You take the baby from your fiancé, knowing that she still has a long way before she can tell you that you’re doing too much. 
“Can we leave before we bump into any traffic?” Satoru asks, reading the time on his watch. Not that he’s thrilled to go to his mother’s house, but he’d prefer to be there than sitting in traffic for hours on end. He sees your eyes wandering around for the rest of your group but before you get any ideas he reminds you, “You don’t want to sit in a car with a screaming one-year-old, do you?”
“Yeah… I guess we’ll just meet them at your mom’s place.” You answer, knowing that once your baby girl begins to cry, it’s hard to get her to stop. Good thing for you, she’s usually all smiles and giggles.
“She’s drooling.” Ren points at his sister, who’s making a mess on your gown. Ren then turns his attention to his dad, asking, “I wasn’t a messy baby like her, right?”
“I wouldn’t know.” Satoru mutters, and you glare at him.
“Let’s get going.”
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The graduation party is for you, a way for Mrs. Gojo to congratulate you on finally finishing your bachelor’s. In reality, it’s a way for her to see her grandchildren. A way for her to spoil Ren and dote on Anzu. 
Things between the two of you go back to the way they were: she barely notices you and you don’t acknowledge her. You’re no longer relying on her in any way, and apart from asking about your kids, the woman won’t bother to contact you. She’s fine with the change of you becoming Satoru’s fiancée– And even if she was opposed to it, Satoru won’t listen to her. As a matter of fact, Satoru never calls her first.
You’re in the kitchen, preparing yourself a plate of food, watching as Mrs. Gojo holds your baby. It’s odd to watch her be so… Soft with someone. Sure, she enables Ren and is willing to do anything he wants, but Ren sets the tone. You’ve never watched her with a baby before.
“Who’s my pretty girl?” The woman is putting a baby voice for fuck’s sake, something she never did for her own son. Maybe it’s the fact that she’s just grandma now, she doesn’t have to worry about anything but her grandchildren. Anzu is giggling, so Mrs. Gojo is doing something right.
“I can’t believe that’s my mother.” Satoru approaches you, a little disgusted to watch his mother like this. He should be happy, but it’s a little weird to watch such a cold woman put on a baby voice and entertain a baby. “That is my mother, right? They didn’t change her after her facelift?”
“I’m right here, Satoru. Just because I’m holding a baby doesn’t mean that my ears have disappeared.” She quickly scolds her son, and you can’t help but laugh. “I didn’t get a facelift either.”
“Right, you just spent two months in South Korea touring.” Satoru retorts, grabbing a plate for himself. They begin to bicker, and as entertaining as it is to watch them, you leave them alone to sort out their own issues.
You walk to the living room to find Ren playing with Shoko and Sayo’s baby– Something that he won’t do with his own baby sister. You’re not sure if it’s because she’s not the baby brother that Ren wanted or if it’s because he’s not getting the same amount of attention as before. Sayo keeps a close eye on the child, not because she doesn’t trust him, but because she’s an overprotective mother. You sit beside him, excited to watch him play and be sweet with a baby, even if it isn’t your baby girl.
“He’s so sweet. Is he like this with Anzu?” Sayo asks, ruffling Ren’s hair as he plays peek-a-boo with the ten-month-old baby. You scoff, as if. Your reaction is the best answer that she needs, and she chuckles. She’s not sure if that’s normal behavior between siblings since she’s an only child.
“What do you mean you aren’t the sweetest older brother to Anzu? You were so excited to be a big brother.” Shoko points out, and Ren’s brows come together. He knows he can’t be mean to his auntie Shoko… So he simply glares at her.
“I don’t want to play with your baby anymore.” He responds. It’s his way of punishing Shoko for the question.
“Damn, can’t take any sort of criticism. You really don’t need a DNA test, that’s one hundred percent Satoru’s kid.” Shoko says, which earns a laugh from you.
“Babe…” Sayo says through gritted teeth, which makes Shoko roll her eyes. God forbid she points out one thing.
“He’s just a little jealous, but he loves his baby sister.” You tease him, pinching your baby boy’s cheek, and he puffs out a breath. Maybe he does like her a bit. Ren doesn’t defend himself, deciding that he’s just going to grab some food from your plate as a punishment. Though it isn’t exactly a punishment for you, you’re always happy to watch your baby eat. “Do you want me to make you a plate, honey?”
“I’m not hungry.” He mutters, crossing his arms. He stands up from his seat, and walks to the stairs, planning to go to the room that his grandma has for him. He might not have his parents undivided attention anymore, but at the very least he still has a room that’s full of games that’s just for him (as if he didn’t have one in your home either). 
“He really is Satoru’s kid…” Shoko comments when Ren is out of sight, and Sayo scolds her again.
“He is, he looks just like me.” Satoru pops into the living room unannounced, which catches Shoko off guard. He wasn’t supposed to hear that, since it’s a critique of his character but she doesn’t find a care to give. He comes back holding Anzu after nearly having to fight his mother to get her. He sits down next to you, reaching for some of the food on your plate. “But I’m guessing it wasn’t a compliment since it’s coming from you.”
“I can be nice, you know.” Shoko responds, and Satoru laughs as if a joke had just come from her lips. Nice… He’ll believe it when he sees it though. Satoru takes a bite of the food that he’s taken from your plate, and he grimaces.
“Did my mom cook or what? This is disgusting.” Satoru can’t even chew the food. Unluckily for him, he doesn’t have anywhere where he can spit the food so he’s forced to swallow. Anzu is screaming, little hand trying to reach for the food. Satoru covers her eyes, “Don’t even look there, my love. There’s no way I’m letting you eat that.”
“It’s not that bad.” You tell him, tasting the food yourself. 
“Well what is it? Am I getting a plate for myself or not?” Shoko asks, reaching over to grab some food from your plate as well. Suddenly your plate has become everyone’s plate; you’re used to it at home with Satoru and Ren, but now Shoko is on the list.
“I wouldn’t trust her with food, she’s always claiming she wants to eat the baby’s cheeks.” Satoru argues, and you click your tongue knowing damn well that he says the same thing.
“Anzu has the cutest, chubbiest cheeks, I understand.” Sayo chimes in before looking at her own baby and kissing his cheeks. Shoko takes a bite, keeping her face neutral as she chews the food. 
“It’s not that bad, Satoru. You’re just dramatic.” Shoko responds, and Satoru pouts. He brings some of the food to the baby’s lips– Even though he claimed he wasn’t going to let her taste, he needs someone to prove him right and that someone will be his one-year-old daughter that spits everything back up.
“Taste this, love.” Satoru says as Anzu bites into the food. Within moments it dribbles down her chin, and back into Satoru’s hand. He’s grossed out, but at least his point has been proven. “Anzu doesn’t like it so…”
“Are you trying to prove your point by using a baby that just stopped breastfeeding?” Shoko questions, and Satoru glares at her. She can’t help but chuckle, “Man, your son is just like you.”
“I’m going to talk to him since he appreciates me.” Satoru stands up, and begins to walk to the stairs, but your voice stops him. You call out his name, and he expects some sort of apology from you but instead you ask,
“Have you seen my mom?”
“She popped into the kitchen to talk to my mom.” He answers before leaving. You’re unphased by the response. The women that don’t get along in any other circumstance, sit together to talk about their grandchildren. They can be cordial with each other once every six months.
Though Satoru doesn’t pay much attention to them, his focus right now is on his baby boy that sits alone in the game room. Ren sits down on the floor, reading to himself. Satoru doesn’t want to interrupt the healthy habit, but at the same time he doesn’t want Ren to sit by himself during the party. He takes a moment to wash his hands before joining Ren.
“Why are you here, honey? We’re celebrating your mom downstairs.” Satoru sits down beside Ren on the floor, and he feels ten years older as he hears his bones crack. Ren barely looks up from his book, side-eyeing his sister, which makes Satoru want to roll his eyes. Isn’t he a little too old to be jealous of a baby? Matter of fact, he begged to be a big brother. “What is your issue with her? What has she done to you?”
“Nothin’.” Ren claims, his eyes landing on his book again. Satoru sighs, letting the baby on the floor so she can walk around and do as she pleases. She chooses to stay nearby, walking over to her brother to take the book that he has in his hands. “See.”
“Anzu, go over there. Chew on the power cords.” Satoru redirects her elsewhere, and the baby whines because she wants something else. “So she takes all your stuff, is that why you don’t like her? You have a lot, Ren.”
“Not just my stuff. Everyone likes her better. You, mom, granny, grammy, the nanny. I used to be everyone’s favorite but then the cute baby came along.” Ren confesses, and Satoru fights back the urge of pointing out that he called Anzu cute. It’s not about the baby right now, Satoru reminds himself.
“You’re still everyone’s favorite, Ren.” Satoru tells a little white lie– There are no favorites in the family, he loves both of his kids equally. But the baby can’t understand him, it’s why he told her to chew on a power cord. “Everyone is just excited about the new baby, it’s not that you’re not the favorite anymore.”
“Why does she get away with everything then?” Ren asks as if he didn’t know any better. He’ll act dumb simply because he’s jealous. He doesn’t ask why Sayo and Shoko’s baby gets away with everything, because Ren knows that it’s just a baby… He just doesn’t have the same feelings about Anzu.
“Well for one thing she goes potty in her pants so… She isn’t really conscious about her actions.” Satoru answers, and Ren puffs out a breath. Satoru got him there. “Anzu just needs a lot of attention because she’s–”
“Don’t do that!” Ren cuts off his father when he realizes that Anzu is doing what Satoru told her to do earlier. Ren takes the cord out of her hand, and she lets out a cry. He’s going to complain about her, but he loves her.
“She’ll grow on you.” Satoru says, standing up to grab his walking baby and get out of Ren’s hair. Ren doesn’t like the baby but he certainly loves her. “But come downstairs, Ren. We’re celebrating your mommy’s achievement. She was talking about hanging up her diploma next to your kindergarten diploma.”
“Can you tell them I don’t want to talk about Anzu?” Ren asks, and Satoru hums in response. Satoru extends his hand for Ren to take, and the child takes it without an issue before both head back downstairs to spend time with you.
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“What are you doing here?” Satoru approaches you as you sit on the ground outside, in his mother’s garden. You’re hiding from everyone. After hours of talking to people inside, you need a break from the small group.
“Need a minute.” You answer, and Satoru decides to sit down next to you. The kids are fine with their grandmothers, he can take a moment alone with you and properly congratulate you. He throws his arm over your shoulder and brings you close to him. “We should’ve just gone out to eat at a restaurant and called it a day. I don’t have the energy to be so social.”
“I got you a trip to Bora Bora. You just have to power through these last couple of hours… We can get Anzu to throw a fit and make it a few minutes.” He responds and you chuckle. You rest your head on his shoulder and shut your eyes for a moment. Being social shouldn’t be so draining.
“Can we leave the kids with granny?” You ask him, and he hums in response. He had no plans on taking them; he loves them, but they sure know how to ruin a vacation. 
Your gaze falls on his face, looking into the blue eyes you fell in love with so long ago. Even though it was an eternity ago, he still makes your heart skip a beat. He doesn’t let you stare for too long before he steals a kiss from you.
“If you stare for too long you might find me ugly.” Satoru tells you and you roll your eyes. If you don’t find him ugly first thing in the morning then you’re definitely not finding him ugly now.
“Are you saying that because–” You begin but the man cuts you off before you can finish your question. He knows you, he knows that you’ll start a petty fight with a dumb question.
“Because I love you so much, and I think I’m not good enough for you– I know I’m not good enough for you, you’re perfect.” Satoru responds, making you grin from ear to ear. He isn’t exactly wrong, he’s lucky that you considered getting back together with him at all.
“I love you too even though you’re…” You bite your tongue before you insult him. He raises a brow and before he can question anything, your lips land on his. His cheeks begin to turn pink when you peck his lips over and over again, feeling like a teenager all over again.
You stare into his eyes when you stop, watching the sparkle in them as he looks back at you. He’s utterly in love with you, and the feeling only gets more intense as time passes. He caresses your face with the back of his hand ever so lovingly. You get lost in his loving eyes until your eyes shift to the flowers behind him.
“Oh my–” You gasp, your eyes widening as you realize. “This is where you used to pick flowers for me?”
“Oh, yeah.” Satoru laughs, turning to pick a lily for you. It’s been years since he’s been in this place. Maybe he should come here more often. “A flower for my flower.”
“Cheesy.” You take it from his hands, wanting to roll your eyes because of his comment– But your face is getting hot. Even when he’s cheesy your heart threatens to beat out of your chest.
“Yeah, cheesy is what got me two kids.” He retorts. “Isn’t that right, Mrs. Gojo?”
“Calling me Mrs. Gojo is going to make you single.” You warn him, and he fights back on laughing. “Don’t make me divorce you before getting married.”
“What? Are you going to Suguru for a rebound again?” Satoru questions, making you glare at him. Maybe he should just listen and agree, not everything needs a response from him. “I’m just joking, baby. He has a girlfriend now and whatnot.”
“You better stick to your day job, you have no future as a comedian.” You say, standing up from the ground to go back inside, and of course, Satoru follows like a lost puppy. He’s simply lost without you.
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You love spending time with your kids, you love them more than anything– But you’re not going to pass up on the opportunity of a sleepover. Having them off your hands for the night is a blessing sometimes. You simply want to celebrate with your fiancé in a way that your kids make difficult.
“I’ll run you a bath.” Satoru tells you, running to go upstairs to get to the bathroom before you. Running you a bath that he’ll end up joining, that’s not too bad. It’s a nice way to end the night, that you know for sure.
You give him a moment to set everything up, pulling out your phone to answer a couple of messages of people congratulating you for finishing your degree. What’s next? You’re not too sure. But whatever you decide it’s fine. You have Satoru and your kids by your side no matter what. The money also helps.
Right now, you know you want to relax in a bathtub full of bubbles. Maybe have Satoru right next to you. You’ve been looking into the future for the past ten years, for once you just want to sit back and appreciate the moment. 
“Are you coming?!” You hear Satoru as you walk up the stairs. He’s so impatient, he can’t even wait a minute. You won’t hurry up to please him, as a matter of fact, you walk slower. Satoru is tapping his foot on the floor when you finally get to the bedroom.
“Finally.” He says, walking over to you to zip down the zipper that holds your dress together. He’s desperate to get you naked. You’re chuckling, reminding him,
“No need for you to be in a rush, we have all night.” But it goes in one ear and out the other. Before you know it, he turns you around, his lips landing on yours. His kiss is full of desire, needing to feel your every touch on his skin. He’s burning up to feel you.
“Fuck, I want you so fucking bad.” He pulls away from the kiss as the dress drops to the ground. He picks you up from the floor and puts you down on the bed, smirking at the black lingerie that will soon be removed. “So perfect for me, love.”
“Fuck me, Satoru.” You tell him, voice seductive that can get him to drop to his knees in an instant. The bath that’s filled up and with bubbles is long forgotten by both of you. He takes off his shirt and pants, leaving his briefs. Your eyes stare at the tent that makes him ever so uncomfortable. You sit up on the bed, your fingers going directly to the erection.
Your index finger goes underneath the band of his underwear, eyes looking up at him as you pull his briefs down. Your eyes quickly avert to his cock, wrapping around the base of it. You slowly move your hand from base to tip as pre-cum leaks from the tip. Your tongue licks it up, circling around it as the man bites down on his lip.
Your mouth wraps around all it can take, bobbing your head slowly. You take what your mouth can handle. He can’t complain because it’s just perfect. Everything you do in Satoru’s eyes is perfect. The pace is slow, but it gradually gets faster. 
You look up at him to find him biting his lip, his eyes shut. You take his cock out of your mouth, and begin to run your hand up and down his shaft, your saliva serving as a lubricant. He finally opens his eyes to look down at you, but his teeth remain on his bottom lip.
“I want to hear you.” You say, a rather demanding tone in your voice. He stops biting down on his lip, and your hand continues to jerk him off for a couple of seconds before your mouth wraps around his cock again.
He’s groaning at your every move, which is like music to your ears. You look up at him to find him looking back down at you. He knows you’re more than satisfied with him, with how he sounds. It’s nice to be as loud as he wants to be, without worrying about someone barging in.
You try to take his whole length in your mouth, making you gag. Tears quickly form in your eyes as you remove your mouth from his cock, and try again. He throws his head back, breathy moans escaping his lips at your every move. 
You take your mouth off his cock and begin to jerk him off. Your mouth goes to his balls and you begin to suck on them. Satoru got louder and louder by the second, his release approaching. 
Your mouth goes back to his cock while your hands begin to play with his balls. It doesn’t take too long for his cum to hit the back of your throat. Your mouth remains on his cock for a couple of seconds before pulling away. You make sure to swallow all the cum, sticking your tongue out for him to see and proudly admire.
“My good girl.” He praises you. He reaches behind to unhook your bra and slide it off you. Once it’s off, he desperately tries to take off your panties. It’s unexpected when he gets on the bed and lays down. You crawl to where he is, positioning yourself on top of him. You get ready to ride him, but it takes you by surprise when your fiancé says, “Sit on my face.”
“Are you sure?” You ask, though it’s not unusual from Satoru.
“Just come here and sit.” He responds. You do what he wants, but you are hesitant to fully sit down. He’s the one who pushes you down onto him. His tongue is quick to wander around your cunt.
His tongue begins to flick your clit over and over again, making low moans leave your lips. His arms go over your thighs, pushing you down further. You’d be worried about him breathing, if you weren’t too focused on how his tongue moves around your pussy.
“Toru!” You moan. Your moans serve as encouragement, and are a sweet reward for the man, moving his tongue faster. His tongue stops flicking your clit, and moves down to your hole. He teases you, threatening to enter but never really doing it. 
“Baby please.” You beg. His tongue finally enters your cunt. You shut your eyes, getting lost in the feeling. But out of the two of you, Satoru is enjoying it more. He finally takes his tongue out and goes back to your clit. 
He begins to suck on your clit, and you swear you see stars as your orgasm builds up. Your hips raise a bit, but he pushes you back down. You get louder and louder. “I’m gonna- fuck- gonna cum-”
You moan loudly as you reach your climax, his tongue still working wonders. A minute later he stops, and you get off him, sitting down on his torso. He raises himself a bit, not completely to sit up but enough to wrap his hand around your throat and pull you into a lewd kiss.
“Should we continue in the bath?” Satoru asks when he pulls away and you can’t nod your head more frantically. You get off the bed and practically run to the bath. Satoru gets in the bathtub first, and you follow behind.
“You’re so lucky.” You point out as your back presses against his chest. He’s never doubted it. He peppers your neck with kisses, while you align his cock with your entrance. You lower yourself on his cock.
“How about another baby?” Satoru asks, making you click your tongue while you begin to move.
“Leave me alone” You reply, and he wants to chuckle but he’s biting down his lip as he feels your pussy wrap around him. He loves your mouth but it can’t compare to this. 
He’s kissing your back, showing you how much he loves you in every possible way as you move up and down his cock. His hand moves down to play with your clit, making you shut your eyes. Every little touch is enough to make you insane lately and Satoru loves to touch you.
“You’re so perfect around me, baby.” Satoru whispers into your ear before nibbling on your earlobe. 
You’re softly moaning his name, your walls tightening around him. You’re so close to finishing. You’ve been so touch deprived lately since your schedules make spending time with each other impossible– Maybe now you’ll have more time to spend with each other.
“Fuck–” You curse as you finish on his cock. You hold to the edge of the bathtub as Satoru continues to move in and out of you. 
He’s not going to last long. It’s too hard for him to contain himself when he’s inside of you. He comes to a complete stop when he finally reaches his release, finishing inside of you. He remains buried inside of you as you pant to catch your breaths, but after a minute you lift yourself and take his cock out of you.
“What do you want to do tomorrow?” Satoru asks, hands caressing your arms as your head goes to his chest.
“Just sleep.” You answer as Satoru kisses the top of your head. He squeezes your hand before bringing it up to his lips to press a subtle kiss on it. “I need to get some rest.”
“Sleep sounds nice.” Satoru responds. You’re getting comfortable in the bathtub as your eyes begin to get heavy. You’re tired. Satoru notices and he splashes you, “Don’t fall asleep in the bathtub, love.”
“Just carry me to the bed.” You reply, making him roll his eyes playfully. He can, but if you don’t drag him out he’ll stay in the water and get all pruny. He’s warm by your side, too comfortable to leave. This is the reality he wanted ten years ago, and he finally has it. He’s not leaving this comfort no matter what gets in the way.
You’ll be the one to get up first and drag him out, that’s how it usually is in the morning. But you’re falling asleep. He doesn’t want to disturb you either. So he’ll just stay in the bathtub. 
“Don’t let me get all pruny, Satoru. Carry me out.” You warn him, and he hums in response. He’ll have to eventually because you’ll end up killing him if you wake up in ten hours, and you’re still in the bathroom.
“You know Ren is going to call later to say goodnight?” He points out, but you don’t care to talk about it. You’re sleepy. He kisses the top of your head when he’s met with silence. He mutters softly to not disturb your peace, 
“I love you. Goodnight, baby.”
418 notes · View notes
rafecameronssl4t · 1 day
Note
i miss thornton!reader so bad!!! can we get one, maybe reader got hurt by barry and topper fights rafe about it! love uuuuu
Protective || Rafe Cameron x Thornton!reader
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A/n: I've missed writing Thornton!reader :(
Warnings: suggestive, slight angst if you even call it that lol, other than that nothing rlly
Word count: 3,417 (longest fic i've written so far lol)
MASTERLIST (rafe x Thornton!reader au masterlist)
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divider by @h-aewo
The music thrummed through the house, filling every corner with a heavy bass as Kelce glanced around the crowded room, his brows furrowed. He leaned closer to Topper, who was lounging on the couch with a half-empty beer in hand. “Yo, where’s Rafe? Haven’t seen him all night,” Kelce shouted over the noise.
Topper, barely looking up from his drink, shrugged lazily. “Probably off somewhere with my sister,” he muttered, taking a slow sip. Just as he said it, the sight of you and Rafe caught Kelce's attention, and Topper turned his head. Rafe appeared at the top of the staircase, hand firmly gripping yours as the two of you descended.
His expression was smug, almost victorious, while you walked carefully beside him, your legs unsteady, a faint flush still lingering on your cheeks. The subtle tension between you didn’t go unnoticed. Topper narrowed his eyes, rolling them dramatically. “Where were you guys?” he started, though a moment later he held up a hand, groaning.
“Actually, don’t answer that. I don’t even wanna know,” Topper groaned, his eyes narrowing as he sank deeper into the couch, clearly regretting the question. Rafe’s smirk only widened in response, that signature arrogance playing on his lips as he pulled you closer, his hand sliding possessively to the small of your back.
“What’s wrong? Not havin’ fun?” Rafe’s tone was taunting as he sat down, effortlessly pulling you into his lap. You settled against him, your body fitting into his like second nature, the faint scent of his cologne mingling with the alcohol in the air. Topper’s response was a dry scoff, his eyes cutting away, tired of the banter.
“Yeah, sure, whatever.” He took another sip of his drink, clearly unimpressed with the scene unfolding in front of him. You glanced at your brother, trying to lighten the tension. “Where’s that girl you were seeing? Natalie or something—” you began, but Topper’s cold voice sliced through your words, shutting them down.
“Broke it off with her. She was a bitch anyway,” he said, his tone harsh, dismissive, like the whole thing had been a waste of his time. There was a chill to his words that left an awkward silence between you, broken only by the sound of the party continuing in the background. You exchanged a quick glance with Rafe, who simply shrugged, his expression unbothered, like the drama swirling around him barely registered.
Rafe’s fingers, however, were far more interested in the hem of your dress, teasing the fabric between his fingers as he leaned in closer. “I’m having a smoke. You comin’?” His voice dropped lower, intimate, a subtle invitation. You glanced towards the patio door, the thought of stepping into the cold night air making you hesitate. “But it’s so cold out there,” you pouted, your lips curving into a playful smile.
Rafe chuckled, his eyes dropping to your legs as he gave your thigh a teasing pat. “I told you it wasn’t a good idea wearin’ this dress,” he murmured, his voice filled with amusement as he traced lazy circles on your skin with his thumb. “Oh, it was a bad idea, huh?” you quipped back, tilting your head slightly, a smirk playing on your lips as you met his gaze.
You could feel the electricity between you, the unspoken tension that always lingered just beneath the surface. Before Rafe could respond, Topper groaned again, loudly this time, clearly done with the back-and-forth. “Get outta here, seriously. The two of you are disgusting,” he muttered, rolling his eyes so hard you were sure he was going to walk out. You held up your hands in mock surrender, laughing softly.
“Alright, alright, we’re going,” you teased, sliding off Rafe’s lap. Rafe stood, wrapping an arm around your waist, tugging you closer as the two of you made your way outside. The night air hit you immediately, crisp and cold, but Rafe didn’t seem to mind, pulling you against him as if he could keep you warm just by being close.
~
Rafe leaned back against the side of the house, the dim glow of the porch light casting shadows across his sharp features. A cigarette hung loosely from his lips, the faint trail of smoke curling lazily into the cool night air as he gazed down at you. He wasn’t really paying attention to the words spilling from your mouth, your voice a pleasant hum in the background, but his eyes were locked on you—specifically, the way your glossy lips moved as you talked.
You were leaning casually against the wall, your phone in hand, gesturing slightly as you yapped about the latest gossip swirling around Figure 8. Your voice was animated, every detail about who hooked up with whom and who got into another petty fight filling the air with energy.
Rafe, however, was only half-listening, his attention drawn more to the subtle curve of your lips, how they glistened under the soft light each time you spoke. The way your mouth moved was more captivating than any story you could tell. He took a slow drag of his cigarette, the embers lighting up briefly as his gaze drifted lower, trailing from your lips down to your neckline, his mind wandering.
You didn’t seem to notice his distracted state, too engrossed in the details of your latest story. But to Rafe, it didn’t matter what you were saying. He was content just watching you, the way you moved, the way your presence filled the space between you both.
You continued talking, the glow of your phone illuminating your face as you swiped through the latest drama on social media. “So apparently, Anna broke up with Drew,” you said, your voice filled with excitement as if it was the most riveting thing that had happened all week. “And get this—she’s already seeing Chase. Like, they were spotted together at The Wreck, can you believe it?”
Rafe exhaled a slow puff of smoke, his eyes lazily following the movement of your lips, still half lost in his own thoughts. “Mm-hmm,” he mumbled in response, barely processing the names you were tossing out. His mind kept drifting—your lips, the way your hair fell over your shoulders, the subtle scent of your perfume mixing with the cool night air.
You didn’t seem to notice his lack of enthusiasm as you scrolled through your phone, continuing. “And then there’s Claire—God, she’s still with that guy from The Cut. You know everyone’s talking about it, right? Like, what is she even thinking? She could do so much better, but nope, she’s still with him.”
Rafe took another drag of his cigarette, flicking the ash off to the side before responding, his tone casual and almost uninterested. “Yeah, she’s an idiot,” he muttered, his gaze still fixated on your lips, completely disconnected from the gossip itself. You sighed, exasperated by how uninterested he seemed. “Are you even listening, Rafe?” you asked, shooting him a playful glare, though you knew this was how he always acted when you talked about Figure 8 drama.
He smirked, letting the cigarette dangle from his lips as he finally met your eyes. “I’m listenin’,” he drawled, his voice low and teasing. “I just don’t care about half the people you’re talkin’ about.” You rolled your eyes, leaning in just a little closer. “You should care. It’s your crowd, Rafe. You act like you’re too cool for it, but you know you love it when someone else’s life is falling apart.”
Rafe chuckled, his hand firmly tugging you closer by the waist. “Nah, I just like watchin’ you get all worked up about it,” he murmured, his eyes lingering on your lips as he tossed his cigarette aside, his focus now entirely on you. You sighed, tucking your phone into your back pocket, arms crossing over your chest as a shiver ran down your spine.
“Can you hurry up? I’m freezing my tits off out here,” you groaned, leaning into Rafe for warmth. The night air was biting, and the flimsy dress you’d chosen was doing nothing to help. Rafe smirked, wrapping an arm casually around your neck and pulling you against him.
“Quit whining. I already warmed you up earlier,” he teased, his eyes twinkling as they glanced down at you. His hand rested possessively on your hip, the cockiness in his tone making you roll your eyes. You were about to fire back a snarky remark when a voice cut through the darkness. "Rafe!" someone called out, the tone sharp and angry.
Before you could turn to see who it was, you suddenly felt a rough pair of hands grab your shoulders and shove you aside with force. The world seemed to tilt for a moment as you let out a startled shriek, your body stumbling as you lost your balance, crashing into a bush. The cold leaves scratched against your skin, the shock of the shove still fresh as you blinked, trying to regain your composure.
“What the fuck, Barry?!” Rafe’s voice exploded with fury as he shoved the man back, his stance immediately tense, ready to throw a punch. But before he could escalate, he turned back to you, eyes wide with concern. He was by your side in an instant, one hand gripping your arm, steadying you as you struggled to get up.
“You okay?” Rafe asked, his voice softening, all the teasing from before gone, replaced by genuine worry. His hands moved to gently brush the dirt and leaves off you, his eyes searching your face for any sign of injury. You took a deep breath, still a little shaken, but nodded slowly. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you muttered, your voice quieter now.
But your eyes were narrowed, darting to Barry, who stood a few feet away, his face twisted in a malicious grin, his energy dark and threatening. “Oh, my bad, Princess,” Barry sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he glared at you. “Just here to let your boy know he’s gotta pay up. Real fuckin’ soon.”
The tension in the air was palpable as Rafe instinctively moved you behind him, his body blocking yours in a protective stance. His jaw clenched, and his eyes narrowed in confusion and anger. “Pay up? What the fuck are you talking about?” Rafe snapped, his voice rising with frustration. “I already gave you the money—what more do you want?”
Barry chuckled darkly, taking a step closer, his eyes flickering with something dangerous. “Yeah, you gave me some of it,” he growled, his tone low and threatening. “But we both know that wasn’t the full amount, Cameron. I don’t like bein’ shortchanged.” Rafe’s posture stiffened, his fists clenching at his sides as he squared up to Barry, tension rippling through his body. “You got what I owed you,” Rafe hissed, his voice laced with fury.
“I’m not giving you a goddamn cent more.” Barry took another step forward, his gaze shifting from Rafe to you, a wicked smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Better be careful, Rafe,” he taunted, his eyes gleaming with malicious intent. “You wouldn’t want Princess here to get caught in the middle of your little debt, would you?”
Rafe’s entire body went rigid, the implication in Barry’s words sending a jolt of rage through him. He stepped closer to Barry, his voice low and dangerous. “You keep her out of this,” Rafe growled, the muscles in his neck tightening. “Or I’ll make sure you regret it.” You stood behind Rafe, your heart pounding in your chest, the weight of the situation finally sinking in.
You could see the barely contained fury in Rafe’s stance, the way he was holding himself back from lunging at Barry right then and there. Barry gave a mocking shrug, stepping back with a grin still plastered on his face. “We’ll see about that,” he said casually, turning on his heel as if the conversation was over. “But I’ll be back, Rafe. You know where to find me. Don’t make me wait.”
He shot one last look over his shoulder before disappearing into the night, leaving you and Rafe standing there in the cold, the air heavy with unsaid threats. Rafe exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair before turning to you, his expression softening only slightly. “Are you alright?” he asked quietly, his voice still tight with lingering anger.
You nodded, but the unease in your chest didn’t go away. “What the hell was that about, Rafe?” you asked, your voice a mix of concern and frustration. He sighed, pulling you into his arms and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “It’s nothin’ you need to worry about,” he muttered, though the look in his eyes told you it was anything but nothing.
"Why the fuck was a drug dealer walking through my house?" Topper’s angry voice sliced through the tension, making both you and Rafe turn toward him. His face was red, brows knitted together in fury as he stormed up to the two of you. The pulse of the party inside was distant, but the rage in Topper’s voice filled the silence outside.
His eyes landed on you, taking in your disheveled appearance, the dirt on your dress, and the lingering shock in your expression. “The fuck happened to you?” he demanded, his gaze sharp and piercing, searching your face for answers. You swallowed hard, trying to shake off the remnants of the altercation with Barry.
“Nothing,” you mumbled, brushing a hand over your arm as if to wipe away the discomfort. “Bullshit,” Topper snapped, cutting you off before you could even try to explain. His anger shifted, his eyes narrowing as they darted to Rafe, who was still standing protectively in front of you. “I told you to take care of my sister,” Topper growled, his voice low but filled with fury.
“I don’t want her around a fucking drug dealer, Rafe!” Rafe straightened up, his expression hardening. “Topper, calm the fuck down,” he shot back, his voice steady but laced with annoyance. “It wasn’t like that.” “Oh really?” Topper scoffed, taking a step closer. “’Cause from where I’m standing, it sure as hell looks like it was like that. What the fuck is Barry doing here, and why is my sister gettin’ shoved into a goddamn bush?!”
Rafe ran a hand through his hair, visibly frustrated. “Barry’s deal is with me. I’m handling it,” he muttered, but the tightness in his voice betrayed the weight of the situation. “I didn’t know he’d pull shit like that.” “That’s not good enough, Rafe,” Topper spat, his voice rising. “She’s not some collateral damage in whatever fucked-up deal you have goin’ on.” You stood between them, feeling the heat of the argument escalating, the tension rolling off both of them in waves.
“Topper, seriously, I’m fine,” you tried to interject, though your voice was drowned out by the two of them squaring up. Rafe shot a glare at Topper, his patience thinning. “I told you, I’ve got it under control.” Topper barked out a laugh, disbelief in his voice. “Under control? My little sister gets shoved around, and that’s you havin’ things under control?”
Rafe’s jaw clenched as he took a step forward, his temper flaring. “Watch it, Top,” he warned, his voice dark. “Barry’s my problem, and I’ll deal with him. You don’t need to worry about her.” But Topper wasn’t backing down, his protective instincts kicking in as his eyes darted between you and Rafe. “You better,” Topper seethed, his voice dangerously low.
“’Cause if this happens again, I won’t just be worried—I’ll make sure this thing between you and her is done. I don’t care what you two have going on, Rafe. If she gets hurt because of your shit, I’ll end it myself. She deserves better than to be dragged into whatever mess you’re caught up in.” Your jaw dropped, disbelief flooding your face. “You don’t mean that—” you began, your voice trembling as you searched Topper’s eyes for any sign that he might back down.
But the fierce determination in his gaze made it clear he was dead serious. “Oh yes, I fucking do,” he snapped, his voice sharp as a blade, unwavering in its conviction. “And I’ll tell Mom and Dad.” The threat hung in the air like a storm cloud, heavy and suffocating, charged with unspoken tension.
A chill raced down your spine, and your heart pounded violently in your chest at the thought of your parents getting involved. They had always been skeptical about your relationship with Rafe, questioning his intentions and whether he was truly good for you. You could almost hear their voices in your head, echoing their concerns “He’s trouble,” and “You deserve someone better.” The idea of them finding out about the chaos swirling around you made your stomach churn.
“Topper, wait—” you tried to interject, stepping forward to bridge the widening gap between them. “You can’t just threaten Rafe like that. It’s not fair—” “Fair?” Topper shot back, cutting you off with a glare. “What’s not fair is that my sister is getting mixed up with someone who can’t keep her safe. This isn’t just about you two playing house; this is serious!”
Rafe stepped in, his voice steady but edged with irritation. “I get it, Topper. You’re trying to protect her, but you’re not seeing the whole picture. I care about her. You think I want any of this to happen?” “Then act like it!” Topper snapped, his frustration boiling over. “You’re letting this shit happen right under your nose. If you truly cared, you’d make damn sure it never came to this.”
The intensity of the moment hung between the three of you, a taut string ready to snap. You glanced at Rafe, searching for reassurance, but his jaw was clenched tight, frustration and anger warring in his expression. “Topper, please,” you pleaded, your voice softer now, desperate to diffuse the situation. “You know how much Rafe means to me. He’s not like that—”
“Not like what?” Topper interrupted, his voice rising again. “Not like a drug dealer? Not like someone who can’t keep his life together? You’re smarter than this, and I refuse to watch you throw yourself into the fire just because you think you can handle it.” Your heart sank as you realized that his anger was coming from a place of love, a protective instinct that had always been there.
But it still hurt to see him turning on Rafe, the person you cared about deeply. Rafe’s expression softened slightly as he looked at you, and for a moment, it felt like the two of you were the only ones in the world. “Topper, if you really want to protect her, then trust me to do the same,” he said, his voice calmer, but the fire still simmered beneath the surface. “I won’t let anything happen to her. I promise.”
“Promises don’t mean shit when you’re dealing with guys like Barry,” Topper shot back, his voice taut. “You need to figure this out, Rafe. Because if you can’t, I’ll step in, and I won’t hesitate to make it clear to everyone—including Mom and Dad—that you’re not the right guy for her.” Rafe's lips part slightly as he glances at you, his brow furrowed with concern as he notices the tears welling up in your eyes.
“And you both know that the only reason this even works is because I’m allowing it. Mom and Dad are already skeptical enough about this whole thing. If anything goes wrong, you know it’ll be on me to explain why I let it happen” Topper says, his voice laced with frustration as he narrows his eyes at both of you.
He glances at you one last time, his expression a mix of anger and disappointment, before he turns and walks away, leaving the tension hanging in the air. As soon as he’s out of sight, the tears spill down your cheeks, warm and stinging. “Rafe…” you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion, but Rafe doesn’t respond with words.
Instead, he pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you tightly, enveloping you in his warmth as you quietly sob against his chest. “Shh, it’ll all be fine, don’t worry about it, okay?” he murmurs softly, his voice a gentle balm against your hurt. His hand caresses your hair, fingers weaving through the strands in a soothing rhythm as you cling to him, seeking comfort in his presence.
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yeostinys · 2 days
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My Dear Darling
Chapter 2
Pairing: Frat OT8!ATEEZ x Female Reader
Genre: Eventual Smut 18+, Fluff, Angst, Polyamorous Relationship!
Notes: NonIdol!AU, CollegeAU. Nothing too crazy in this chapter. Explicit language. Polyamorous Relationship, (if you are not into that just pls ignore)
Word Count: 6k
Synopsis: You enter new water as ATZ makes you question your own feelings, but tries to make you feel as comfortable as possible.
previous >>> next chapter (coming soon)
—————————-
“You guys… want me to be in a romantic relationship with all of you. At the same time?” You cock and eyebrow at them. You feel like this is a prank. A joke they put together to mess with you.
“Yes. Of course we understand this might be a foreign thing for you. However, if you are willing to give this a try, we’d like if you give us a chance to show you what we can offer. Take you on dates, get to know us more. The option is completely up to you. If you do not wish to comply, we can forget this conversation ever happened. We only want what you want, Y/N.” Hongjoong explains.
“Have… you done this with other girls before?” You ask. Genuinely curious, you never thought ATZ would be into poly relationships. You assumed they’d all be pretty possessive over their significant others.
“We have before with just one previous person. But it didn’t last long. She got too involved with one member and only wanted him. We weren’t for it. So we all collectively agreed to let her go.” Hongjoong replies. You’re shocked. The boys look at you as if they’re trying to figure out what you’re thinking.
“Y/N, You don’t have to give us an answer now” Seonghwa speaks up. You look at him and he’s giving you a gentle look.
“We know that this can be a lot to take in. If you want to try this out, let us know. If you don’t, you don’t even have to contact us. We will understand” Jongho chimes in.
You open your mouth to speak when you are all interrupted with someone walking through the front door. San is home.
“San, you’re here just in time” Wooyoung says as he moves towards San to drag him to the couch. San looks at you with a blank face. You reciprocate the look and turn your attention back to the rest of the boys.
“Were you going to say something Y/N?” Yeosang asks. You look at all 8 men now sitting infront of you. San is sitting on the couch arm rest with his arms crossed still staring at you.
“I… need some time to think. Last night was a long night for me I didn’t get much sleep in. so… I’ll tell you guys my answer soon. I just need some rest-“ You hesitate to say as you begin to rise from your chair.
“Y/N you don’t have to explain yourself we understand. I apologize if we came on too strong.” Yunho says as he makes his way towards you.
“I’ll take you home” Yunho looks at you worried.
“No I’m sorry. I’m not judging you guys it’s just… need some time to think over stuff” You say as you look at all the men in front of you. They look at you with genuine concern. But in understanding of what you may be feeling, they nod and bid you a goodbye.
Yunho walks you out the door and you turn towards him,
“Yunho… you don’t have to walk me home. I… want to be alone. I hope you understand” You say.
“Oh yeah… of course. Thank you Y/N for coming by. I’ll see you around.” Yunho says with a soft smile and waves goodbye to you.
——
Yunho walks back inside the house with a loud sigh.
“I thought you were walking her home?” San says raising his eyebrow.
“Yeah well she asked to be alone so… I’m sure she’s probably terrified of us” Yunho slumps onto the couch and rubs his eyes with his palms.
“I don’t think so…” Jongho says tapping his chin.
“What do you mean?” Wooyoung says turning to the youngest member.
“Well, if she was terrified of us and didn’t want to be in this type of relationship with us, she would’ve rejected us on the spot” Jongho says as he continues,
“Like she said, she’s just taking in the information and will get back to us soon. Meaning she might be interested or might not be. It’s a 50/50 chance.” Jongho finishes his statement and rises from the couch.
“Yes, Jongho is right. So no bothering Y/N until she approaches us.” Hongjoong says as he stands up with Jongho and points at all of the men.
“Especially you Wooyoung” Hongjoong glares at him.
“What do you mean?! I understand what personal space is!” Wooyoung raises both his hands as he defends himself.
“Did we come off as too strong last night?” Yeosang questions as he pouts. Obviously bummed that you left so quickly.
“I told you guys each of us asking for her number the same night would’ve been weird” Yunho mumbles.
“If you felt like that then why didn’t you push it on us harder to stop!” Mingi argues.
“We were all buzzed last night!” Wooyoung exclaims.
“Okay seriously everyone stop! Y/N didn’t reject us nor did she accept us. Just give her some space and don’t go seeking out for her until she approaches us. We don’t want to come off too pushy” Seonghwa speaks up trying to calm down everyone. The boys look at the Seonghwa and sighs.
“Hwa is right. Does everyone understand?” Hongjoong crosses his arms in frustration. The boys nod in agreement and disperse from the living room.
——
You walk back home trying to process the confession you just received. Normally, in a crisis like this, you’d confide in Jia or Mina. However, in this situation, you feel that it’s not your place to tell anyone about ATZ’s relationship dynamic. It was obvious that no one knew they were into polygamy. Making your way back into your apartment you slump down on your bed and release a loud sigh. Grabbing a pillow and throwing over your face you scream. Naturally you fall asleep… you weren’t lying to them when you said you didn’t get any sleep the night before. You were exhausted from studying and partying right after. Not only that, your feelings became all out of wack. You needed to rest and so did your heart.
~~
A week has passed since you last seen or spoken to ATZ. You noticed Jongho was avoiding you in class. You assumed it was because he didn’t want to evade your privacy or seem pushy about the lingering questions he and the rest of the boys may have had. You thought avoiding the question and the thoughts would naturally lead you back to your normal lifestyle. But it didn’t.
You sat on the edge of your messy bed, surrounded by a mountain of textbooks, scribbled notes, and empty coffee cups, remnants of late-night study sessions that often spiraled into daydreams. Your thoughts drifted to them—ATZ, realizing each of them had captured a piece of your heart in their own unique way. And you can’t deny it any longer.
Wooyoung’s playful laughter always cut through the noise. He had a knack for turning any party or event into something even more lively, his antics drawing everyone into his orbit. It was hard not to smile when he was around, his energy infectious and uplifting.
Seonghwa was someone you admired from a distance. His caring nature was evident in how he treated others, always ready with a kind word or a thoughtful gesture. You also remember your interaction with him that night he asked for your number, the way his persona was switched into a charismatic confident person, made you more curious to be with him. and Hongjoong with his stupid humble confidence and teasing remarks. Though you hadn’t had many direct interactions with him, the way he carried himself as a person only made you fall for him more.
Yunho, with his gentle and loving spirit, was a pillar of support. Those summers you two spent together as he listened with an attentive ear, making you feel like your words mattered. Conversations with him flowed naturally, often deep and reflective, leaving you feeling understood and cherished. There was something profoundly comforting about his presence that made you want to share everything.
Then there was Mingi, His magnetic charm that was hard to resist, always ready with a joke or a playful comment. His confidence and humor ignited a thrill within you, a fun challenge that kept your heart racing. Mingi could light up the darkest days, and you found yourself drawn to his lively spirit.
Yeosang, gorgeous as ever. With his mysterious aura that intrigued you, pulling you in like a moth to a flame. Those months you spent together last semester in the library studying lingered in your mind. Despite his quiet nature, he loved to engage in deep conversations, revealing layers of himself that fascinated you. You felt as though you were uncovering secrets every time he spoke, and the allure of his complexity kept you captivated.
Jongho, stupidly handsome and humble, he had a refreshing honesty that grounded you. You appreciated his directness, finding solace in his no-nonsense approach to life. He had a way of making things clear, cutting through the confusion with simple truths that resonated deeply.
And then San. Cold and seemingly distant, he was a puzzle you longed to solve, even though you two have a rough history. Beneath his mysterious exterior lay a warmth you remember but rarely saw nowadays. You couldn’t help but feel that he secretly still cared for you, and that thought both thrilled and terrified you. The intensity of his gaze lingered in your mind long after you had walked away, leaving you with an ache that was both confusing and exhilarating.
Each of these eight men added a unique shade to your life, painting your days with a kaleidoscope of emotions—excitement, confusion, longing. You found yourself caught in a whirlwind of affection, each connection offering its own thrill and challenge. As you navigated the complexities of your feelings, the idea of exploring these relationships further both excited and frightened you. In that tiny, cluttered space where you spent so many hours—distracting yourself with work—you felt the stirrings of something profound. The prospect of uncovering the depths of your feelings for them all ignited a spark of hope, a glimmer of possibility amidst the chaos of your college life. Each day without seeing or hearing from them felt like a story waiting to unfold, and you were eager to see where it would lead.
So you get up from your messy bed, put on a fitted top and baggy sweats and headed out your door.
You glanced at your phone 11:35pm.
(Fuck) you mentally say to yourself. It’s late why are you deciding to go see them now? Your mind tells you to go back home, but your legs and heart tell you to keep going forward. Regardless you continue walking. Picking up your speed, eager to see them, you felt a drop of water on your nose. You look up and see a light sprinkle of rain coming down.
(you have got to be fucking kidding me) you curse to yourself. You start to jog, you’re not that far from the frat house. Your heart beats faster. You don’t know if it’s from the adrenaline of running or the growing feelings for the men you were craving to see in this very moment.
You finally arrive at the front door you were once at a week ago. You’re a panting mess, drenched in the rain that began to pour faster. You buzzed the door bell and waited for what felt like an eternity. Finally the door clicks open, and you’re greeted with a confused Hongjoong. Eyes widen at your current state. Unconsciously, you run towards him and wrap your arms around his neck. Hugging him tightly.
“I’m sorry I came so suddenly” you whisper. still panting trying to catch your breath. Hongjoong hugs you back tightening his grip holding you closer. He sighs in relief. “God Darling why did you run here in the rain” he whispers back. You finally pull away from him and realize you got his white tshirt and gray sweats all wet.
“Hongjoong, who was at the door-?”
You turn your head and see Seonghwa and the rest of the boys shocked to see you.
“Y/N…” Seonghwa says in disbelief
“Hi” you say smiling. All the boys hesitate to move towards you. So Hongjoong grabs your hand brings you to the couch.
“San, go grab her a spare pair of clothes. She’s drenched from the rain” Hongjoong says quietly to him. San nods and heads upstairs to his room. The boys sit around you in silence. You fiddle your fingers. You came here to tell them you want to be with them, but your voice won’t speak.
“Y/N, go change. Then we can talk.” Hongjoong says as San holds out a fresh pair of folded clothes in front of you. You hesitantly grab the clothes as San shows you the way to the bathroom. You change into a pair of black sweat shorts and an ATZ embroidered frat sweater. You take a deep breath and exhale trying to calm yourself. You make your way back to the living room. You stand before them once again. They all look at you in awe.
“I… I’m sorry I came here so suddenly especially at this time of night. I know it’s late… But I just… I just wanted to say that I’m ready to try this out.” You stare at them, suddenly the desperation you had makes you feel embarrassed.
“I… I want to be with all of you.” You say once again.
“Y/N… are you sure about this?” Seonghwa speaks up. You nod instantly and the boys smile at you. Hongjoong moves from leaning on the wall and makes his way towards you. He sits you on the single couch and pats your head.
“Miss Y/N… we promise to take good care of you” Hongjoong softly smiles at you.
“Do you have anything else for us? Any questions or comments before starting this relationship? We know this is still new water to you.” Jongho speaks up.
“I want to know why me. Why did you all collectively choose me?” You sit up straight
“Well, we are all fond of you Y/N. You’re beautiful, smart, and kind. That’s something we can all agree on. Of course we each have our own stories on how we developed a crush on you. Which is not mine to tell, but I believe we should tell you on our own time with you”. Hongjoong says. You nod in agreement and speak again
“Since this is new to me… if at any point I’m not doing something right, just guide me a little and don’t hesitate to tell me. Also, you guys need to give me time to warm up to this. I know we have been mutuals for awhile but we barely know each other. So, let’s take things slow” You say softly.
“Of course, and we ask the same Y/N. Don’t hesitate to tell or ask us anything” Yunho states. You nod and give them a soft smile.
“So… I’m ATZ’s girlfriend?” you say in a teasing tone. The boys chuckle at your light heartedness and hum in response,
“Yes, ATZ is your boyfriend” Mingi says with his charming smile. You blush and remember another question you had.
“Oh, I was also meaning to ask… Will anyone know about our relationship?” You look at the boys in curiosity.
“Well, typically no. We know it may be hard to hide a relationship with 8 people. So, to everyone else you’ll be ATZ’s Sweetheart. But to us you’ll be our girlfriend.“ Seonghwa responds.
“When the day comes that you’re ready to reveal this relationship public we will be ready too, Y/N” Hongjoong says.
“Okay” You say with a smile and stand up.
“I should head home then… It’s late and I’m sorry again for barging in so late” You say with an awkward smile.
“Y/N, just stay the night. We have a spare room. It’s late and still raining.” Yeosang insists as he stands up and walk towards you. He grabs your hand to make you stay.
“Yeah just stay Y/N! we were about to watch a movie!” Wooyoung exclaims. You hesitate to stay but the boys pull you to the couch. Next thing you know, the night proceeds as an action movie plays on the large screen. The boys are scattered along the living room couches and floor. You are sat between Yunho and Yeosang. The coffee table in front of you is covered with snacks and drinks. The dark atmosphere of the house is illuminated by the television screen. Something about this is so relaxing that you begin to feel your eyes get heavy. You let your head fall onto Yeosang’s shoulder and he chuckles,
“You tired?” Yeosang whispers. You shake your head in protest and try to keep your eyes awake and fixated on the screen. Moments go by and you can’t remember when you fell asleep. Some of the boys have already made their ways to their rooms and the bathroom to freshen up. You remain asleep on Yeosang’s shoulder until San approaches you two.
“I can take her to the room” San whispers to Yeosang in which he nods in response. San carefully lifts you in his arms trying not to wake you up, thankfully you are in a deep slumber. His arms are supporting your back and legs as your head naturally falls onto his chest. Yeosang stretches up and bids San a goodnight before walking off to his room.
San makes his way to the spare room and gently lays you on top of the bed. He pulls the blanket over your body and sits at the edge of the bed next to you. He admires your peaceful face as you sleep soundly. His hand strokes your hair and kisses your forehead.
“i’m sorry it took me this long Y/N” San whispers quietly. He knows you can’t hear him. Which is exactly why he decides to confess this now. He wants to tell you why. But not just yet.
——
If someone were to ask you why you agreed to be in a relationship with ATZ. You wouldn’t know what to say, other than that you cared for all of them. The last serious relationship you’ve ever had was 4 years ago. You wanted to walked into university with no distractions. With a balance of academics and meeting new people with no attachments, you were satisfied with your decision of being independent. So it being your last year in university, what could go wrong? As Jia said before, you are top of the graduating class and are already on track with an internship for a project management company that has been hinting a set job position for you once you graduate. You feel that most people would shame you and say it would be an inconvenience trying to date 8 men at the same time. but you beg to differ. Thought no one may say anything to you anytime soon, their opinions didn’t matter.
——
Two days have gone by since you’ve seen the boys on that rainy night. You’re currently sitting in the University library typing a research paper for a class. You’re playing soft lo-fi music in your earphones for a complete study atmosphere, until you’re interrupted with a tug at your wires. You look up and see none other than Hongjoong smiling at you. You smile back at him.
“Hey there Pretty.” Hongjoong takes a seat next to you.
“Hi Hongjoong” you scoot to give him some room. He pulls out can of instant coffee from a vending machine near by and opens it for you.
“oh, thank you” you take the can and sip on it.
“What are you up to?” He asks casually. You feel a sudden nervousness as this is your first time in public with him as your boyfriend. You’ve rarely talked to Hongjoong throughout your time here in university. So it was something you’d definitely needed to get used to.
“Just writing a research paper for a class. I’m almost done” You say as you advert your attention back to your laptop. Hongjoong peers over your shoulder and watches your screen. His face is dangerously close to yours, that you can hear his soft breathing next to your ear. He hums while nodding his head as he pulls back to lean into his seat.
“When you’re done let’s go get lunch.” Hongjoong takes one of your pens and begins spinning it between his fingers. You look at him with a straight face,
“Sure” you say casually. Hongjoong smirks at your nonchalant expression and stretches his arms.
“Well since you’re still working I might as well finish my assignments too.” Hongjoong takes out his laptop and some overhead headphones. You watch him set up his items and pull up what looks like a demo sound track on his screen. He’s already in a working mode as he moves and clicks his laptop. You turn your attention back to your laptop continue your work. The atmosphere is comfortable between you two. You quickly learn that Hongjoong is a diligent worker and doesn’t like to slack off. Within the hour of you two sitting in the quiet library together, he would occasionally turn to you for advice on his sound track as well as make small talk conversations.
“You getting hungry?” Hongjoong whispers.
“Hmm Yeah I am. I’m craving some ramen and spicy rice cakes.” you say as you stretch your arms.
“Okay let’s go” Hongjoong begins to pack his things and you follow.
Hongjoong takes you to a near by ramen booth by the university and orders for you both. As you two wait for your food you can’t help but ask some lingering questions you’ve had since you left the frat house.
“Hongjoong, you mentioned to me that you and the rest of ATZ had developed your crushes on me for separate reasons.” You begin. Hongjoong hums in response and remains eye contact with you.
“What was your reason? We’ve never really spoken to each other before. So why so suddenly?” You ask.
“To be honest. I don’t know when it started. As much as I may seem confident as the leader of ATZ, I am pretty reserved. But I often saw you at school events and parties and grew a fond of you. I guess, from there you always just stayed in my mind. became someone I appreciated being around. You always have a positive aura and I find it very attractive. Not to mention you’re very hot” He winks at you, and you blush.
“How did… You guys agree to choose me? How did the conversation even come up?” You hesitate to ask. But you’re genuinely curious.
“Hmm… The boys and I grew a strong bond together the moment we first met and created ATZ. The first poly relationship we had was a new stepping stone in our friendship. We all had a crush on the same person but with our loyalty towards each other, we ended up compromising by trying out polyamorous relationships. It worked out at first. but the girl got too obsessed with San more than the others. So naturally we let her go. Ever since then we haven’t pursued any other poly relationships. That is until… we met you. We naturally talk about our crushes to each other once in awhile and one day found out we all liked the same person, which was you. So it took awhile to talk agree on trying out another poly relationship. but next thing led to another, and here we are.” Hongjoong explains.
You nod and start to think about San. Their previous partner was too obsessed with San and began to forget about the other members..? You appreciated Hongjoong being open about their relationship dynamics. Many people would find this controversial, and somehow it encourages you to be the best person for all of them.
“Here is your food! Please enjoy~” The server plates the meal in front of you and Hongjoong and excuses herself. You both feast on your meals and continue to talk about each other. You smile to yourself as you enjoy this date, Hongjoong is a talker and listener, making you feel very comfortable about not being afraid to open up to him more. After Hongjoong pays the bill, you both make your way back to the university.
“Is your schedule done for today?” Hongjoong looks at you while walking side by your side. You hum in response.
“Yeah, I was done before I went to the library. I’m actually going to head home.” You say keeping your eyes forward.
“Before you go home, let me take you to the ATZ house” Hongjoong says as he stops infront of you, causing you to stop in your tracks.
“Why?” you question
“All the boys are shitting on me for taking you out without them knowing” Hongjoong laughs. You can’t help but chuckle at the ridiculous statement.
“They just want to see you. that’s all. Please?” Hongjoong grabs your hands and rubs them softly.
“Okay” you say to him.
“Perfect, let’s go” Hongjoong smiles.
——
Arriving at the ATZ house, you see Jongho and Yunho distracted on a game console while Mingi and Yeosang watch.
“Hi everyone” You say as you wave. The boys quickly turn their heads to your honey voice and smile instantly.
“There’s our girl!” Mingi exclaims as he walks towards you and pulls you into a tight hug. You blush at the sudden skinship and hug him back. You see Wooyoung and Seonghwa run out of the kitchen in their aprons and walk towards you with a smile
“Hi Y/N” Seonghwa smiles at you.
“Yah! Hongjoong why did you secretly take her out!” Wooyoung points a finger at the leader and he chuckles.
“We ran into each other at the library! the date just happened on its own, Woo” you defend Hongjoong as you begin to take off your shoes and make your way to the couch.
“Oh okay then!” Wooyoung says as he skips back to the kitchen. You and Hongjoong look at each other and laugh at Wooyoung’s sudden switch up.
You sit down next to Yeosang and he slings an arm over your shoulders.
“How was your day Darling?” Yeosang asks looking at you.
“It was good. I had a lot of fun” You say as you smile at him.
“Where’s San?” you ask the rest of the boys.
“He’s upstairs taking a nap” Jongho replies, eyes still glued onto his game.
“I’m… going to go say hi to him” You hesitantly say as you get up from your seat and make your way to the staircase.
“oh. uh which is his room?” you turn back at laugh in embarrassment.
“Third room to the left” Yeosang replies with a smile.
You nod and walk upstairs. Your mind tries to tell you to stop your intrusive thoughts about greeting San alone in his room but your feet won’t stop moving. You arrive at his door and gently knock three times.
“Come in.” You hear him say.
You slowly twist the door knob and open it. You see San’s back faced towards you. It looks like he was just changing into his shirt that is now nicely clinging onto his toned body. You blush and try to get yourself together. Before you can say anything he turns around a gives you a surprised look.
“Oh Y/N. I didn’t know it was you.” He says casually.
“Sorry, I just got here. I just wanted to say Hi. I didn’t see you downstairs” You say as you instinctively shut the door behind you. He smirks and walks closer towards you, causing you to move backwards and into the wall. You’re now trapped between him and the door. His face is close to yours as he leans down to be eye level with you.
“You’re blocking the door Darling”. He teases. Your eyes widen in realization and you blush trying to move away. San opens the door and walks out.
“Are you coming or are you going to stay in my room?” San asks as he turns around to look at you.
“oh-“ you follow behind him as you both make your way downstairs. You mentally punch yourself at the interaction you just had with San. The signals he’s sending you are all out of wack. The boys are saying one thing about San but his actions and attitude towards you are saying another. Regardless, you make your way back to the couch. All the boys are now present, munching on snacks that Wooyoung and Seonghwa made. Trying to find a spot on the leather cushion, you hesitate to move your legs.
“Come sit here Y/N” Mingi ushers you over and you sit close to him slightly on his lap.
“Don’t be shy” Mingi teases as he holds your waist to maneuver you comfortably on his lap. You release a yelp.
“Mingi! she said take things slow!” Wooyoung shouts. You blush and hide your face in your palms. The boys are giggling at your cute gesture.
“It’s fine” You say as you try to hide your smile. You shift to get comfortable and mentally pull yourself together.
Mingi’s hand rests on your thigh lightly tapping to the beat of the song playing in the background. One of your arms is slung over his neck as your other hand scrolls through your phone, trying to find something to do. You don’t know how to function, Mingi is so direct, so out of curiosity you decide to get the question out of the way.
“Mingi” you quietly call his name. The boys around you are too distracted with their own things and the music blasting is too loud to hear you.
“Hmm?” He leans his ear in closer to your mouth as you begin to speak
“I’m curious…” you begin
“Of what?” He replies
“When did you start liking me?” You ask as your hand starts playing with his hair. You both are ridiculously close to each other as he begins to speak,
“You want me to be honest?” He asks with a cocky smile.
“Yes I do” you raise an eye brow at him. He leans into your ear and whispers,
“I started liking you the day you and your friends came to cheer on ATZ at the pie fundraiser. You in that cute cheerleading outfit is still engraved in my mind till this day” He chuckles. You gasp and blush as you playfully hit his shoulder. He laughs out loud and hold onto his arm.
“What! you said be honest” Mingi exclaims. All the boys attention are now on both of you.
“Oh my god Mingi did you tell her?” Yunho asks. Mingi ignores Yunho’s question knowing his friend already knows the answer.
“Mingi that pie fundraiser was 2 year ago! how do you still remember that!” You say as you get up from his lap.
“Why are you leaving!” Mingi whines as he can’t control his laughter.
“Y/N, we all still remember that pie fundraiser. It’s probably the one of the best memories we have” Hongjoong laughs. Your face is now so red.
“What do you guys mean by that” you stand in front of them and cross your arms.
“We mean that pie fundraiser was one of the most successful events we’ve had! You and your friends cheerleading team really helped us. and as a bonus we got to spend the whole day with you” Yeosang laughs.
“I.. didn’t even know you guys noticed me that long ago” You say. The boys smile softly at your shyness and encourage you to come sit back down with them.
“We’ve noticed you longer than you’ll ever know Darling” Seonghwa says.
The night continues with laughter and constant questions and comments about you. The boys are very attentive. Making sure you’re comfortable and well fed. You look towards your phone and notice it’s getting late.
“I should head back home.” You say as you get up from the couch.
“I’ll walk you home.” You turn your head to see San standing up with you.
“Okay” you say calmly.
You bid goodbyes to everyone as they pass you around to hug you.
San waits for you by the door as you put your shoes on and walk out with him.
——
The walk back to your apartment seems longer than usual. It’s only a 10 minute walk from the campus, but with San by your side, the quiet awkwardness makes it feel like an eternity.
“San?” You break the silence
“Yes?” he replies, eyes still facing forward.
“Thank you for walking me home.” You say. He chuckles.
“Is that it?” He asks as he looks down at you. You nod. Slightly confused at his response. San’s eyes turn back to look at the concrete in front of him. And the walk remains quiet.
Finally arriving to the front of the apartment building you turn to San and thank him once again.
“Let me walk you to your door.” He insists.
“you don’t have to-“
San cuts you off as he opens the lobby doors. You sigh and follow behind him inside. You both enter the elevator and lean your back against the wall bar. San reciprocates the action next to you.
“San…” you speak up and he turns to face you in response.
“I don’t want you to force yourself to act like you like me for the sake of your friends wanting this type of relationship” You say in true honesty. You try to keep your voice calm and confident.
“What are you talking about?” San says in a nonchalant tone.
“Well It just doesn’t make sense to me that you agreed to this…” You say as you look at the ground. (why is this elevator moving so slow, you mentally say to yourself).
“And what makes you think that Y/N” San asks. You can still feel his piercing gaze on you.
“because you hate me San. so it doesn’t make sense that-”
Suddenly, San cuts you off and traps you against the wall. His hands rest on the bars behind your hips. He leans his face close to yours and stares into your eyes.
“don’t you hate me too Y/N? why did you agree to this if you hate me?” San asks in a teasing tone. You gulp and feel your cheeks heat up. You don’t know what to say. You just stand there under his body like a trapped prey.
“Answer me Y/N” San says in soft yet deep tone.
“I asked you first” You don’t know why you’re biting back. He scoffs as he looks down.
“It’s quite the opposite for me Darling.” San releases his grip from the metal bars and moves away as the elevator door rings open. You quickly walk out of the elevator and make your way to your door. San follows you from behind with his hands in his pockets.
“O-okay well this is me. Thank you again for taking me home. I’ll see you soon” You say as you scramble to take out your keys and unlock the door. You don’t look at him. Before you can walk into your apartment, San grabs your wrist and turns you towards him. Your eyes widen.
“Do you hate me Y/N?” San asks again.
“No…” you say quietly.
“Do you like me?” San’s eyes look into yours then drops down to your soft lips.
You nod in response. It feels like he’s leaning in closer to your face. Your eyes naturally close. Waiting for him to close the small gap between you two. San smirks at your gesture and scoffs lightly.
*thwack* San softly flicks your forehead and pulls away from you. You widen your eyes and blush in embarrassment.
“Goodnight Y/N”. San pushes you into your apartment and closes the door shut. You stand by your front door shocked and dumbfounded.
(What the fuck was that?) you quietly curse under your breath.
end of chapter 2…
next chapter. (coming soon…)
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author’s comment: thank you all so much for the support of this series! more is to come soon! please don’t hesitate to leave comments or questions in my ask box or comment section!
comment or message me to be apart of the current tag list! 🪼
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tag list: @georgeanabanana @jaytheatiny @mxnsxngie @spenceatiny18 @sanhwalvr @highkeyinlovewithhanjisung @joongscheese @therealcuppicake @velvetskize @hwxbibi
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xo100 · 2 days
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Baking cookies pt. 3- LN4
*:・゚ Summary: Lando and Y/N confess their feelings, agreeing to take things slow, while Nina continues to brighten their lives.
*:・゚ Word count: 1237
masterlist / community / request / previous ౨ৎ next
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౨ৎ
The next morning felt different. Not in a drastic, world-shifting way, but in the small, quiet way things change when you finally admit how you feel about someone who’s been in your life for so long. The sun filtered through the curtains in Lando’s living room, casting soft shadows on the walls, and Y/N sat at the kitchen table, absentmindedly scrolling through her phone. She wasn’t thinking about the articles in front of her, though. Her mind was on Lando—and the kiss they shared the night before.
She could still feel the warmth of his lips, the gentle way his hand had cradled hers. The memory made her heart skip a beat, and she couldn’t help but smile.
“Morning, sleepyhead.”
Y/N’s head snapped up at the sound of Lando’s voice. He was standing in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame, his hair still messy from sleep. He looked comfortable in a worn T-shirt and sweats, a soft grin tugging at the corners of his lips.
“Morning,” she replied, her cheeks flushing slightly at the memory of last night.
Lando pushed himself off the doorframe and walked over to her, dropping into the chair across the table. He rested his elbows on the table, leaning forward with that same playful glint in his eyes that Y/N had seen countless times—but now, it felt different. There was something deeper behind it.
“How’d you sleep?” he asked, his voice soft.
“Good,” Y/N answered, smiling. “You?”
“Best I’ve slept in a while,” Lando replied, his gaze locked on hers.
For a moment, they just stared at each other, the weight of their newfound connection hanging in the air. It was comfortable, but there was a spark between them, something quietly electric that hadn’t been there before.
But before they could say anything more, the familiar sound of little feet running down the stairs interrupted them.
“Daddy! Auntie Y/N!” Nina’s voice called out as she bounced into the kitchen, her curly hair wild and her face full of excitement. “I’m hungry!”
Y/N and Lando exchanged a quick glance before they both burst into laughter. The moment was broken, but in the best way—Nina always had that effect.
“What’s on the menu today, munchkin?” Lando asked, ruffling Nina’s hair as she climbed onto Y/N’s lap.
“Pancakes!” Nina declared with a big grin.
Y/N smiled, hugging Nina tightly. “Pancakes, huh? I think we can make that happen.”
“Yay!” Nina clapped her hands excitedly, bouncing on Y/N’s lap.
Lando got up from his chair, heading toward the fridge. “Alright, team pancake, let’s get to work.”
As Lando started gathering ingredients, Y/N helped Nina down from her lap, and together, they got to work in the kitchen. It was something they had done countless times before, but this time felt different. Everything did.
The three of them moved around the kitchen with ease, like a well-practiced routine. Nina poured the flour, Y/N mixed the batter, and Lando flipped the pancakes, tossing in an extra bit of flair for Nina, who giggled with every flip.
At one point, Lando leaned over to Y/N, his voice low and teasing. “You know, I think you’re rubbing off on me.”
Y/N raised an eyebrow, laughing softly. “Oh yeah? How so?”
“Well,” Lando said, holding up a pancake with a lopsided heart shape in the middle, “I’m starting to get pretty good at these.”
Y/N shook her head with a smile, nudging him playfully. “Sure you are.”
They shared another quiet moment of laughter, but this time, there was an undeniable tenderness in it. Lando’s hand brushed against Y/N’s as he passed her a plate, and she felt that same warmth flood her chest. The feeling that this was right, that they were right.
-
Once breakfast was done, the three of them sat at the table together, with Nina happily munching on her pancakes while talking animatedly about her day ahead. Lando and Y/N exchanged glances across the table, both of them silently reveling in the ease of this moment. It was just the three of them, but it felt like more.
After breakfast, Lando cleared the table while Y/N helped Nina get ready for the day. As they moved through their morning routine, the unspoken understanding between Lando and Y/N grew. They didn’t need to say anything just yet—there was comfort in the way they worked together, the natural way they fit into each other’s lives.
Once Nina was dressed and ready to play in the garden, Y/N found herself back in the living room, straightening up a few toys Nina had left scattered around. Lando appeared beside her, leaning against the couch as he watched her for a moment, his expression thoughtful.
“Y/N…” His voice was softer now, more serious.
She turned to face him, her heart beating a little faster. “Yeah?”
Lando stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently take hers. “I’ve been thinking about us. About what this means.”
Y/N squeezed his hand, her eyes searching his. “Me too.”
“I know we haven’t really talked about it yet, but I want to make sure we’re on the same page,” Lando said, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “Because this? This feels like more than just a moment.”
Y/N nodded, her heart swelling at his words. “It is more. It’s everything.”
Lando’s smile was soft but filled with so much emotion that it made Y/N’s chest ache. “I don’t want to rush anything, but… I want this. I want us.”
Y/N took a step closer, her free hand reaching up to rest against his chest. “I want that too, Lando. I want us to figure this out together.”
His hand came up to cup her cheek, his eyes searching hers for any sign of doubt. But there wasn’t any. Y/N was sure of this, sure of them.
“You know, Nina adores you,” Lando said quietly, his voice filled with emotion. “She’s always asking when you’ll come over. And seeing the two of you together… It makes me realize how lucky I am.”
Y/N’s heart melted at his words. She had always loved Nina as if she were her own, and hearing Lando say those things only deepened her feelings for him. “I adore her too, Lando. And I… I adore you.”
His eyes softened, and before Y/N could say anything more, Lando leaned in and kissed her. It was soft and sweet, but this time there was more behind it. The promise of something new, something real.
When they finally pulled away, Y/N rested her forehead against his, their breaths mingling in the quiet space between them. “We’ll take it slow,” she whispered. “For Nina. For us.”
Lando nodded, his smile widening. “Yeah, slow sounds perfect.”
Just as they were about to kiss again, a loud crash echoed from the garden, followed by Nina’s triumphant shout. “I did it!”
Y/N and Lando both burst into laughter, stepping apart as they looked out the window to see Nina standing proudly next to a stack of garden toys she had knocked over.
“We’d better go check on our little troublemaker,” Lando said with a grin, taking Y/N’s hand as they headed outside together.
As they walked into the garden, hand in hand, Y/N couldn’t help but feel like this was the start of something beautiful. A new chapter for all three of them.
And it was exactly where she wanted to be.
౨ৎ
*:・゚ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know! Also I’ve started a community feel free to join! Currently working on part 4! If you want to be tagged leave it in the comments!
Also currently heartbroken by Daniel leaving f1💔
*:・゚tags; @barcelonaloverf1life @fanficweasley @obxstiles @missnxthingg @trisharee @myescapefromthislife
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raccoonsface · 1 day
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“My Baby.”
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A little fluff for Jenna’s B-Day. SHES SO OLD. I swear last week she was just 20.
*Please don’t mind my terrible sleep deprived writing*
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Jenna’s POV
I’m so tired. I’ve been working all day and haven’t been able to see Y/n… I miss her so much, my birthdays tomorrow so I have the day off
I just wanna spend my birthday relaxing to be honest with myself. I wanna be in bed with Y/n and cuddle till the days over, maybe do something else…
Either way I’m way too tired for all of this and I still have to take a shower before I even step foot into my bedroom. I’m all dirty from filming today.
Wednesday Season two is harder than the first time around. Even though I know mostly everyone and I know how to act, it’s a little hard to help write the show while acting it all out.
Ugh I’ll have to think about it all some other time tonight and tomorrow I relax with Y/n..
Y/ns POV
Jenna’s coming home in about five minutes and I wanted to get a bath set up for her so I set up a bath with some roses and red wine with glasses.
I want Jenna to relax and to let go for tonight, her birthdays in about two hours and I don’t wanna have her be all grumpy when her phones being blown up from it.
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You were setting down the last of the candles in the bathroom for Jenna’s bath when you heard the lock twist.
You walked out of the bathroom to find a tired Jenna walking into the apartment slowly, dragging her feet across the floor. She immediately took off her heels when she closed the door, and locked it.
She then proceeded to walk over to you without a word and hug you tiredly.
“Hi, baby.. you tired?” You say quietly, and she softly nods to answer your question, you can feel her start to relax in your embrace
“I drew a bath for you,” You whisper as you massage her shoulders and kiss her temples. “Okay,” she mumbled into you’re chest before backing up with her eyes closed slightly
“Can you come in with me?” She asked taking off her jacket and throwing it over the couch, “Yeah, of course I can,” you responded softly walking to the bathroom with her, watching her tiredly move.
You make it to the bathroom and watch as her face lights up slightly at the sight of the bathtub filled with bubbles and roses.
“You picked my favorite wine..?” She says slightly surprised and slightly questioning you’re decision, not in a bad way though “uh yeah I thought you should relax before your birthday,” you respond
“Thank you baby.. this is really nice of you,” she says in awe admiring the work you’ve done “anything for you Jenna,” you say looking at her lovingly, admiring her
She looks at you once before turning away and undressing, you then turn and do the same, when you’re both done you both step into the bath.
Jenna lays on top of you while you’re just laying back, you grab the wine and give Jenna a glass before pouring it into your guys’ glasses
You both take a couple of sips before you set them down. You caress Jenna’s arm to help relax her, she leans her head back and closes her eyes in response.
“Thank you for this Y/n, it means a lot to me,” she says opening her eyes, looking up at you lovingly. You smile down at her, “you’re welcome honey, I don’t want you all stressed on your birthday,” she giggles at you before getting up
She gets up and grabs a towel as you get up, she then wraps the towel around both of you guys, “why’d you get up so soon?” You ask her
“I’m tired baby, I need sleep,” you look at her and then step out of the shower with her. You drain the bath and put away the wine after putting on your undergarments,
When you’re all finished you go into the bedroom to find Jenna all cuddled up in the bed, asleep
“Oh… My Baby.” You say while walking over to Jenna’s side and sitting down by her legs, you reach your hand over her face and caress it with your thumb.
You lean closer to Jenna and kiss her forehead, “I love you Jen, sweet dreams,” you say before getting u beneath the covers with her and going to sleep.
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Jeez I just had a really random writing motivation moment… well I mean here you go I guess… I love you my raccoons. Happy birthday to Jenna though, cannot believe she’s 22.
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willowrites · 2 days
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𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐞 ✦ 𝐬𝐚𝐦 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐡
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𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬. where sam was there to help y/n when she had a rough day and resorted to unwinding in a not-so-healthy way.
𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭. okay so i was just thinking for a sam golbach fic reader relapses (self harm) cuz their mind has been getting too much lately, and maybe sam helps them clean up and then helps take care of them and makes them feel loved nd just like lets them know that they don't need to do that because he's there from now on?? if that makes sense. also maybe not an established romantic relationship but maybe it ends up that way? like sam tells reader he doesn't know what he'd do with himself if anything happened to them he just cares a lot about them and yeah
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬. ANGST ! third person pov, talks of self harm, relapsing, descriptive literature, friend!sam, friends to lovers.
𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬. if anybody needs anyone to talk to i’m here! 🤍 sorry this took so long to post & write! this one hit really personal for me but id okay to say ive healed & im continuing to heal from my past. if anyone is going through similar hardships, you can get through it! i believe, love, & support you always.
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y/n told herself she wouldn’t put herself in this position again. she wouldn’t.. but sometimes things don’t go as planned.
she had tried to stay strong, to stop letting her mind control every action she took; it just became too much. she sat on the cold tile floor of her bathroom, tears making their way down her flushed face. she gripped the item as she took the first swipe, lightly but firm enough.
just stop. she told herself. her hand shook as she went to repeat the action. she looked at her skin i just need to feel something, she thought. something other than what im feeling now.
she had been doing so good but somehow found herself back at square one. all that work that she had done was all gone. she felt hopeless, as if this never ending black hole of despair would stay with her for the rest of her life.
she took a minute to think on her life and what could have went wrong to cause her to relapse. all those thoughts had no specific effect on relapsing, its just her brain had begun to spin a web that caused her to get stuck in her head all day. what else can i do? she thought as she took another swipe at her skin. she planned on continuing until she heard her bedroom door open.
her heart dropped to her ass. “y/n..?” the voice had confusion laced in their voice.
sam.
it was sam.
the blonde boy was one of the things that y/n had in her life that truly made her happy. he was her best friend. she never told him that but she truly meant that with every fiber of her being.
y/n quickly wiped her tears when she heard the footsteps come closer to the bathroom. wiping the tears would make the tear stains disappear but the thing about breaking down, you’re left with that struggle of trying to catch your breath.
she couldn’t stop gasping, trying to breathe calm and collectively. that’s why as sam stopped right beside the bathroom. he heard a small gasp escape her lips that caught his attention.
his eyebrows raised in confusion. he put his head beside the door trying to hear something else. “uh.. y/n? you in there?” he knocked. he received no answer. multiple questions and thoughts ran through his mind before he opened the door.
sam had seen many things in his life, traumatic even, but this — it was like his heart had jumped, dropped, did a tumble, and self destructed all in the span of 3 seconds. he instantly became nauseous at the sight of y/n holding a blade to her forearm. the small cuts that had caught his eye before she covered her arm and hid the blade had his blood run cold.!
the second y/n had been caught she felt guilty and embarrassed. she felt pathetic, like she wasn’t strong enough to handle the hard reality of the real world. immediately, she stood up and faced sam. “i-im sorry you weren’t supposed to see that.. it’s not what it looks like.” she sniffled trying to contain her tears. “i… it just, lately everything has been so crazy and i haven’t … i haven’t done this in a while but… but everything has just been… too much.” she rambled out, trying to explain herself.
sam’s face of confusion faltered. he thought about her words. the way she mentioned in a while had him wondering what caused her to relapse and fall back into this situation. he scanned her face. she’s too pure to be suffering like this. he paused thinking of what to say but truly all that he wanted to do was give her a hug. so that’s what he did.
he pulled her in, wrapping his arms around her protectively. she melted into his touch. her lip quivered as she wrapped her own arms around him. her body shook as more tears cascaded down her face.
sam felt his own eyes sting with tears. “i’m sorry.” he choked up. “i’m sorry you’ve been going through all of this alone.” he rested his cheek on her head closing his eyes trying to stay strong for her.
y/n hasn’t said anything, still feeling guilty. sam pulled away and looked down at the floor seeing the blade and a tissue beside it. he picked them up and threw both away.
he turned back to y/n who had a tired look on her face. “as long as i’m here nothing will hurt you, okay? i will be here for you. you can depend on me. you don’t need to do this anymore to yourself y/n, i won’t let you.” he took her face into his hands. “i promise, i love you and im always here for you no matter what.”
y/n’s heart raced as sam’s words really effected her. she nodded pursing her lips and biting her cheek.
he brought her head to his mouth and pressed a light kiss on her forehead. “i mean it y/n. i don’t know what i’d do with myself without you. you complete me.”
y/n’s eyes scanned sam’s face noticing how his own eyes began to water and become puffy. the scene before her causing her throat to close. “m’sorry i promise i wont do it anymore. i love you sam and… fuck — i know i shouldn’t be doing that. i just didn’t know what else to do.” she leaned against his chest.
“i know, i know baby but from now on you can talk to me about it. about anything. i care so much about you. you truly have no idea how much i…” he stopped himself not wanting to overwhelm her. “just know you mean the world to me. you are and have been my priority since we met and that’s never going to change.” the reassuring words causing y/n to relax.
y/n started to get inside her head, wondering what if he got tired of her, if he’d leave her, what she’d do or how she’d feel if that happened — or even worse; if she would be a burden to sam.
sam noticed y/n zoning out. “hey, tell me what you’re thinking please.” his hands reached down to grab her own.
she took a deep breath. c’mon y/n. she blinked a couple times trying to sort her thoughts. “don’t wanna be a burden to you.” she admitted to which sam immediately shook his head.
sam brought her hands to his mouth kissing her knuckles. “you could never ever be a burden to me. you keep me pushing through every day because i want to be the best for you. to be the best friend you deserve and… and whatever the future may hold for us — i want you there always, okay? don’t ever forget that.”
his words wavered through the air and stood there so you could process what he truly meant. you thought on it, picking up some hidden message that you’d both communicate about later but as of now, he truly helped you feel understood and seen. as long as you had him you’d feel physically, mentally, and emotionally secure and protected.
© willowrites
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whimsicalcotton · 3 days
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I'm gonna be honest I just love the way you write amberpricefield so much. I've never even played the game. I love them so much. If you're still taking requests please pick your favorite.
skdfjsdhk thank you anon 🥺🥺🥺
thank u also for the free reign! here is some incredibly stupid Everybody's (Actually) Fine AU nonsense for u <3
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50: Nicknames/Pet Names
There’s a list of things other than “Max,” that Rachel and Chloe call her that probably runs a mile long. 
Chloe likes to stretch her name into a wide variety of different shapes — some more ridiculous than others — and though there apparently exists some method to her madness no one else seems to know quite what it is. Mad Max, Maximilian, Maximum Turbo-Force Dork. Max could fill up a whole notebook with just those, let alone the pet-names. Chloe was once solely an ironic user of the word babe, so Max has been told, but she’s long since fallen into the trap of habit and now throws it around far more casually than Max can handle. 
Rachel has also grown fond of playing around with Max’s name, but she leans more towards the terms of endearment. Max has lost count of the amount of times she’s gone all red in the face after being called honey or love or darling. There was even that one time Rachel had the audacity to call her babygirl in the middle of the dorm hallways, which made her fluster so hard she’d immediately started babbling some lame excuse about the time before literally running all the way back to her room. 
All this is to say: Max has been thinking it’s time for some payback.
So with devious plots in mind from the moment she gets up — perhaps Rachel is starting to rub off on her a bit — Max makes it her day's mission to give the two of them a taste of their own medicine. 
She catches Rachel first. Lingering in the dorm halls, fittingly enough, knee deep in yet another unnecessarily tense looking party planning conversation with Victoria. Of course, Victoria is often the only one who suffers in a conversation with Rachel, so when she turns to see Max approaching her expression shifts easily into one of earnest excitement.
“Morning, Max,” she greets, apparently feeling generous in her sparing Max from having to get flustered in front of Victoria. Her mistake. 
Max takes a final little breath for courage, and goes for the metaphorical kill. “Good morning, sweetheart. Am I seeing you for lunch today?”
She tries not to smile so hard watching Rachel’s cheeks turn red.
“Y-Yeah,” Rachel answers, looking momentarily horrified by her stammering before straightening up. “Yeah, sure, lunch. I’m there. See you then.”
As Max is taking her leave, hardly capable of stopping herself from skipping the whole way, she overhears their chatter resume. 
“Bitch, didn’t you literally just tell me we were gonna go over this shit again at lunch?” Victoria snaps, incredulous. “Oh my god, you’re down bad. That was pathetic. Well played, Amber, truly.”
“Shut the hell up, Chase,” Rachel hisses back. “Tell anyone what just happened and you’ll be on your own supplying party booze for the rest of the year.”
Max gets Chloe later on, during the aforementioned lunch hangout that Rachel is apparently snubbing Victoria to be present for. 
She’s in the midst of chowing down on some of the sweets Max brought along, getting bread crumbs and icing sugar all over herself in the process. By the time she’s done, there are patches of powdery white and a hint of jelly still adorning her face. Rachel tries to hide a bout of snorting giggles upon looking at her.
“Jesus, you’d think we never feed you,” she says, still covering her mouth with one hand and handing Chloe a napkin with the other. 
“Yeah,” Max agrees, taking the napkin in Chloe’s stead and reaching up to wipe off her face. “You’re making such a mess of yourself, baby.”
Chloe’s eyes go wide as saucers as she squeaks out an astoundingly unsure, “I sure am.” She lets Max finish cleaning her off before seemingly coming to her senses and going even redder than Rachel had earlier. 
Speaking of, Rachel’s gone a little pink again herself. She looks over at Max with a gaze as hungry as it is curious. “Man, you’re out for blood today, aren’t you?” 
“Just having a bit of fun,” Max assures with a smile, watching on in unabashed satisfaction as Chloe devolves into a grumbling, mumbling mess hiding her face in her hands.
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evansbby · 4 months
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ALSO BESTIES I AM NOT DONEEE WITH RESPONDING TO WICKED GAMES 4 FEEDBACK I HAVE A LOT TO GO AND WILL CONTINUE TO RESPOND PROPERLY WHEN I HAVE TIME!
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dmclemblems · 2 years
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“Claude in Hopes is exactly the same way he is in Houses! He’s always been like that and has the same feelings/morals!”
Claude in GW/Hopes:
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Claude, literally, in Houses:
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Let that speak for the fact that Claude was written with a 180 characterization in Hopes.
Claude wants peace and to bring everyone together; not to tear them further apart. That is his character.
#I’m still in the middle of answering this ask I got but yeah#even Edelgard noticed Claude really loves bringing ppl together in WC#when she says ''you really value that sort of thing don't you'' after the Eagle/Lion (+Deer >.> ) battle#like if Claude's goal was to destroy Fodlan and just leave a mess of it A+++ you did an astounding show stopping brilliantly done job#if your goal was peace well you fucked that up pretty good buddy#in Hopes too like he's literally arguing with Lorenz about it while Lorenz is like ??? bruh wtf ???#literally who cares what some politicians did 300 years ago certainly not Houses Claude#in fact Claude said fuck our history sideways with a cactus let's make peace and be friends#AND he got the approval from the whole roundtable and that's all we know on the topic bc it's all we needed to know#versus in GW where it's explicitly stated that it took some doing for them to allow Claude to be king#meaning the roundtable was not up for what he was suggesting and needed to be convinced#they needed it enough that Lorenz pointed it out to everyone and from a narrative standpoint#AM Claude doesn't need to say how the meeting went and all we need to know is that it worked out#but in GW it's told to us that the meeting was very long and it took some doing for them to trust Claude's judgment#the meeting is presented in a more uncertain light with how the lords felt abt it whereas in AM#it's not told to us how things went bc it's not important. a negative aspect (i.e. the roundtable not being able to come to an agreement)#is an important thing to note and if there was any negative aspect of it in AM they would've put it in there#meaning the roundtable trusts AM Claude's judgment enough when he tells them he wants to put their two nations together again#idk how else to explain that so I hope you get what I mean lol#I just find it completely baffling that people actually say both Claudes are the same person and that he was always like how he is in Hopes#like you can like his character in Hopes and enjoy that portrayal of him but at least admit he's written differently you know?#I hate when I see people say that Claude fans didn't understand his character in Houses at all bc they don't like him in Hopes#when you have literal staunch polar opposite sentences coming out of his mouth in these two scenes#the Claude we get in AM is the same Claude - the same person at his core - as he is in VW and all the routes#Houses Claude does not blame whatever the fuck Leicester and Faerghus did 300 years ago on the people living in their present#he also doesn't blame Dimitri or anyone else presently in power for Daphnel#GW Claude there is just grasping at unimportant and insignificant straws to justify his invasion#pretty sure AM Claude would be like ''hey dimi lemme borrow failnaught back real quick'' and smack GW Claude with it#then kindly hand it back to Dimi and smile and wave
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persephoneflowerpetals · 10 months
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*yeets a pillow at Hades for no reason*
Get some fucking sleep idiot
—caretaker anon
Hades: *takes the pillow and tosses it* Hey, if I had the proper help around here, I’d be taking a 1,000 year long nap. Anyways, sleep is for the weak. How am I supposed to run a functional domain when I’m asleep? Y’know what I’m sayin’? What’s that thing you kids say nowadays? “Gotta grind for the hustle” or something like that?
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cuteniaarts · 2 months
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Digitalised + coloured + redesigned version of my Suiren and Vaatu sketch from two days ago, as promised!!
Coming up with Suiren’s design was a very long process of trying and failing because after you’ve drawn 9+ different versions of one character, the creativity starts to run a little dry, but I’m actually really proud of this one, she looks absolutely adorable <3
(Also yeah I did mostly just scribble Vaatu’s pattern because who has the energy to draw the all out accurately. Not me, that’s who, I’m chronically tired. People who draw him on the regular have my utmost respect. He’s still a funky little guy though :D)
Bonus, Raava incessantly screaming inside Suiren (and being completely ignored because Suiren is tired of her) while all this is happening:
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#and yeah I did say I’d do a fuckass background but all my energy went to figuring out Suiren’s design#plus I suck at backgrounds so.. woe. LoK screenshot be upon ye#my art#artists on tumblr#the legend of korra#avatar suiren au#original character#sotrl suiren#vaatu#I don’t really know what to say in these tags lmao#usually I reach the tag limit really really easily but between my previous post and answering that ask I’ve ran out of things to say#someone please indulge me in this au I have Way Too Many Thoughts about it#hmm…#you know. I think people often make different avatar aus because they dislike Korra or think she’s a bad avatar#I don’t. I love Korra. I would kill and die for her#(says the red lotus stan. yes I’m well aware. no need to call me out)#and I think she’s a good avatar who was dealt a shitty hand both in universe and by the show’s production team#I’m making this au BECAUSE I love Korra. if Suiren is the avatar Korra gets to be a normal SWT girl#she’ll get to grow up with her parents. not isolated and degraded all the time for not being perfect. maybe she’d have a sibling or two#and Suiren gets spared her sotrl trauma too. win win for everyone!!#(I return Suiren gets the weight of the world on her shoulders lmao. but it’s fine. 1. she isn’t alone in it. she has her family#2. three quarters of the LoK threats are basically automatically eliminated for her. the RL are her parents. she fuses with Vaatu#and all she has to do to defeat Kuvira is to take her dress off 😁 /hj. basically. she’ll be okay. better than in sotrl at least)#also look. I love Suiren. she’s my dear child who’s been with me since I was 12. of course I wanna make her the main character in everything#and dark avatar Korra AUs have been done countless times before me. Kat’s doing one right now!! I just wanna do something that’s my own#and also I wanna focus less on pain and trauma for once and more on the sheer hilarity of the shenanigans that will occur post-fusion#cause this isn’t Adumbration where Korra lets Raava go and fuses with Vaatu instead. here Suiren’s got both of them at the same time#and they have 10000 years’ worth of grievances to air out. it’s like living with your divorced parents#trust me I would know. except mine aren’t divorced. they’re Worse and everyone wishes they’d just separate#anyway. that aside. Suiren’s not getting any sleep any time soon while those two duke it out
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goldensunset · 2 months
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re: the music rant I tagged you in I am so sorry for tagging you in my double-dose caffeine fueled haterism explosion post. truly was off the shits and did not realize how much random garbage talking points I was ready to spill on the first person to ask
but i love haterism…..
#truly i really don’t care if ppl like those artists. they do so for good reason#but it’s just impossible to see it as like. particularly noteworthy and countercultural or anything anymore?#like obv it’ll never be on the same mainstream level of like taylor swift or w/e#but as far as being ‘weird’ or ‘fringe’ it’s like. safe weird. safe fringe#mainstream weird or mainstream fringe to use an oxymoron#there’s nothing wrong with enjoying something with a large community that makes you feel something#but it just isn’t particularly striking as far as making a statement about how unique you are#not that you need to be unique to be cool#but i think a lot of people truly do see it as a thing that makes them special or even superior#it’s not harmful at all just a little silly#and truly when every young neurodivergent well-off internet dweller is doing it. well it’s not totally weird is it#safe and sanitized weirdness#either that or to get back to the point if it is true weirdness then it’s like yeah are you sure this goes on that character playlist LOL#maybe the other bigger threat is when stuff is genuinely good and raw and unique and strange#art that’s screaming something out#and it gets watered down into something incredibly generic#like this lament about the singer’s very real life is like ‘woagh this is just like these two fictional white men who have never met’#less ‘morally wrong’ and more ‘hardcore cringe at best and in poor taste at worst’#or like. what if it is an EXTREMELY specific situation genuinely#why is it on every playlist 🤔#the answer is bc it goes hard of course so who am i to say they’re wrong for having fun#but behind the scenes in secret i’ll be laughing sinisterly#like everybody in the world thinks Their Artist is the most freakish unique and special artist. including swifties#fact of the matter there’s always something weirder. even the stuff i listen to i am well aware could be so much freakier#is there really any point in making it a competition of how weird you are#just listen to what appeals to you and stop acting like you’re the main character idk#asks#dj-of-the-coven#ok i’m done now. hope none of this sounded too bitter and judgmental
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TFP Shockwave for the ask game
one aspect about them i love
His design and his voice. He could talk about things I know nothing about, and I’d still listen.
one aspect i wish more people understood about them
How much of a threat he could be. Unlike IDW Shockwave, TFP Shockwave seems to have no external end goal that can be anticipated and thwarted. He lives only for knowledge; he cares neither for accolades nor accomplishment. His interests can change on a whim. Shockwave would pull apart the universe if it meant satisfying his twisted curiosity. The way I see it, the only way to stop Shockwave would be to kill him or imprison him indefinitely, since there doesn’t seem to be anything of personal value to him that could be used to put an end to his purely self-interested experimentation.
“Shockwave, you would bring down all of creation just to satisfy your own ambition.” (Alpha Trion in ‘Retribution’)
one (or more) headcanon(s) i have about this character
I like to think he wasn’t always the way he is now. Of course, this is me projecting my love for IDW Shockwave on TFP, but it definitely would have made him more enjoyable to me if he’d been given an interesting backstory or motive.
one character i love seeing them interact with
Uh, Starscream? Shockwave is just so unbothered by him, and that amuses me. lol
one character i wish they would interact with/ interact with more
Soundwave, of course.
one (or more) headcanon(s) i have that involve them and one other character
In the Aligned novels, Megatron intended for Soundwave and Shockwave to lead the Decepticon cause forward in case he was unable to.
Shockwave probably respects Soundwave as an equal and sees him as a competent leader, despite Soundwave’s commitment to silence.
It could explain Shockwave’s dismissive attitude toward Starscream in the show. lol
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jemmo · 2 years
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so i’ve been doing some thinking on the thua situation, and have reached a point where i feel like i can explain his actions but am still angered by the inconsistency of it. whenever i rewatch the scenes, I keep thinking why didn’t he just go to akk and ayan, or even just their small group to discuss this?? i get that he wanted to kick up a fuss but it also doesn’t sit well with me that you have to hurt and shame people in the process of igniting change, even if you feel you deserve it, which I don’t think akk does. I’d feel better about him doing so if he didn’t know that chadok was really behind it, but when he explains himself he says that he realised that and moved target to chadok. yes, he doesn’t know the full extent of how akk is suffering bc of what chadok is, but as someone he is friends with, i just feel like the better thing to do would’ve been to deal with him privately and deal with chadok in public, explain that he’s wrong bc of the things he made akk do. but then you get to the fact that chadok was suffering too, which gets to an important point i think the show is trying to make. what is the human cost of change like this, what is at the core of it?? at the end of the day, so much of this harm stems from individual people that are themselves hurting, so how do we deal with that?? do we expose them and punish them?? or do we take them to one side and sort things out privately?? how do we weigh up the hurt they’ve done to other people vs the hurt they’re feeling themselves?? it’s a really hard question, and here you see the two different ends of the spectrum. aye finding out what akk did and treating him with gentleness and kindness nonetheless, making him feel like he can change in a comforting way that is both kind to him but also makes things better for everyone in the long run. and then thua, who doesn’t care about akk in the way aye does, and who makes a valid point that he should have to be held responsible for what he’s done, no matter how bad he feels about it. I think for this reason, im glad thua did what he did, to make this point. but in that, thua isn’t right, nor is aye, it just gives us reason to think about these things which is good.
and as for why thua did this, alongside what is stated, that he wants truth and wants this over, I think what he says when he explains himself both gives that explanation but also makes his actions contradictory. bc he keeps saying he wants the truth, for it to be out in the open so the lies and the curse can be over. which makes me think, who does that help that’s connected directly to thua?? who is so hung up on the curse that it makes him paranoid and angsty, makes him suppress himself and feel bad?? it’s kan. kan has always been fixated on the curse, and thua has seen how that’s affected him, literally seen how that’s changed him since he was younger. so yes, I think maybe that contributed to making thua do this, the fact he wants everyone to stop being so obsessed and hurt by this, no one more than kan. but at the same time, if i was kan listening fo what he says, things like “so that everyone would tell the truth” and “do you think it could be fixed by letting it go away quietly”, I’d find it hard not to relate that to the way kan has acted, keeping his feelings quiet, keeping up his bruce wayne lie, which is where the inconsistency comes in. he has the time and patience for kan to come to terms with his feelings and figure out what to do slowly and quietly, but for this he’s sick of lies, needs truth now, needs it out in the open and sorted?? yes these are two different things and yes thua would of course give kan a lot more time and space bc he cares much more, but then you get to the point that again this is an issue centred around humans, who thua is not giving the time and space he granted to kan. it hurts akk and aye and in a way hurts kan when thua says he needed answers and truth, something kan couldn’t give him for so long. at the end of the day, it’s hard to reconcile what thua did bc we feel and care for akk so much, bc he’s our character, we’ve seen his journey and struggles. if it was told from thua’s perspective, and akk was just part of this bad system doing bad things, you wouldn’t feel as upset or angry about his public exposure. but then again, i didn’t feel upset or angry about chadok’s public exposure, bc he wasn’t our character, he was our villain. but then you get underneath that all and find out what happened and realise he too was a man caught up in doing bad things for what he thought was right, to look after someone he loved. and the theme of akk being the new chadok is made even clearer, it’s just that akk has the people around him and the momentum of a different and progressed society to break him out of the cycle. it just begs the questions where is the line drawn when it comes to granting sympathy to those that have done wrong vs granting punishment, and what is the cost of making a change. everyone has their own ideas about how to bring about progress and what has to be done to achieve it, and for a show that is so reflective of our society and trying to be an allegory of systems that are in place for us, I think I’m ok with the fact that what I’m getting out of it is a nuanced discussion of how to dismantle these systems while not forgetting the humans involved in them, bc at the end of the day we are all just flawed humans, hurting, and making mistakes, and we all need to figure out how to reconcile with those actions before we think about moving forward
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aroace-poly-show · 10 months
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sorry i’m actually really fucking annoyed kfbakdbaka
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