#i don’t care if i have to block out four days of my sunday to watch him race
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things about logan in F1 that i have never gotten over (but i started watching after japan)
australia (alex wanting to score points in repayment for logan but barely missing out 😞)
him getting p10 in the miami sprint
him dnf’ing in miami (quite literally devastated)
miami in general actually
silverstone (he was 9s from yuki 😭)
zandvoort
him laughing with elias and taking a picture with a fan after he crashed
him looking miserable after each race
the one loscar lacy edit
sargebon because you could see they became closer
LAP OF LEGENDS (everyone pls go watch it) that was like my first f1 post
team torque and sargebon’s spin the wheel thing (personally think they sargebon the hardest there, shout out to the one blog that analyzed them (i couldn’t find the blog anymore😞))
his general americanness that definitely bugged people
him getting that one DHL fastest lap thing for the tires and people hating on him because he had a fresh set of soft tires (i think it was fresh) compared to the others
also him accidentally grabbing Lance’s towel because they have a similar logo (something about all the L drivers having a similar logo is funny to me)
him in general, I miss him
#logan sargeant#ls2#oh and canada#we simultaneously had a charles-logan interaction and a logan dnf#twice i think actually#anyway i’m very excited to see him in elms#i don’t care if i have to block out four days of my sunday to watch him race#oh god what am i going to do if indy elms and f1 clash#bringing back this old tag#williams racing when i get my hands on you
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Hello people! It’s been a while since my last chapter but the writer’s block was humongous and I kept pushing myself to write the next chapter. It is another long one, almost 25K words. Please excuse me for my long ass absence and stay with me for the rest of the story! I hope you’ll enjoy the newest part and I can’t wait to see your opinion and comments on it. Take care. Until the next one <3 xx
All’s Fair
(Toto Wolff x Reader!Horner) Chapter 9
chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4 chapter 5 chapter 6 chapter 7 chapter 8
Monaco has the best sunny days in the whole world. You’ve loved going out under the Mediterranean sun every time your family visited Monaco when you were young. Now laying on the couch that you’ve spent almost all of your summers on, you see the light entering the apartment. Music plays in the background as your friend Sara is making coffee in the kitchen and you are laying in her living room as you’ve always done.
After the victory celebrations on Sunday you left the track and flew straight back to Nice. Your childhood friend Sara picked you up and you’ve been staying in her family’s house in Monaco for the past 2 days. Those days passed by with your usual activities. Having coffee in the casino square, going out clubbing, cooking, gossiping and in general doing girly things. As soon as you arrived in Monaco you visited the apartment that Sara proposed and booked it right away as you had already asked for your belongings to be moved to Monte Carlo. The only thing left for you to do is to move all of those things to the apartment. The thing about being in Monaco is that now you are able to show the world where you are. During the past weekend there was just speculation about where you actually were. You had managed to place yourself in Monaco with some instagram posts but no one knew (well except for Toto and Lewis) that you still were in Jeddah.
“Sweetheart coffee is ready.” Sara yells from the kitchen
“Bitch I don’t drink coffee” you answer “You haven’t seen me in a month and you already forgot?”
“Shut up, I made you your Earl Grey just how you like to drink it” she says and you’ve already made your way to the kitchen
“Thank you idiot” you tell her
“You’re welcome, your majesty,” she says, mocking you for your tea preferences. You sit down opposite to her and start drinking your tea. “So” she interrupts the silence “Do you remember Marc?” she asks
“Marc who?” you ask
“Marc Taylor.”
“S, are you serious? Are you asking me if I remember the guy I had a crush on for ages?” you ask her
“Well you’ve met a lot of people since you started working in F1 and I genuinely thought you forgot him” she says “Anyways, he saw the story I reposted from yesterday night at Jimmy’z and replied to it. He asked me if we wanted to join him today.”
“Join him where?” you ask intrigued
“He will be having a brunch party at his yacht.” she says trying to hype it up
“Ugh, I’m not sure I want to see so many people.” you say
“Come on Horner, it’s going to be so great. We haven’t had a brunch party at a yacht in ages, the last time we did was when you graduated.” she pauses “Plus he told me not to hype it up, the only people there will be his friend group.”
“Marc’s friend group is 15 people. I am only willing to see 5.”
“Why are you acting like a 65 year old with depression, come onnn.”
“Because my job drains me to the point that I just want to stay at home with a cup of tea and read a good book. I am with people every day and during the weekend I am chased by cameras and fans.” you tell her as she looks at you mockingly “I know, I know. I chose this life and to be frank I love the whole fame,chase and clout that comes with it. But during my non-race weekends, I need to have a detox.”
“You had your whole week off, enough paddock detox, enough people detox. What were you doing in Jeddah? Meditating, visiting the four seasons’ spa, drinking coffee, eating expensive meals. That’s enough, now we get to party.”
Little does she know that you weren’t actually meditating, not visiting spas, not even staying at a four seasons’ but at a Ritz. You take a look at your best friend as she puts on her puppy eyes.
“Pretty please.” she says and she crosses her hands as if she’s begging “Do it for me Horner, it’s going to be fun. It’s part of your new life after all. People here in Monaco have brunch yacht parties really often, so you better get your ass ready. We are going.” she says.
You shrug in response, but actually get up from the chair and go to the guest room where all of your belongings currently are. You open your suitcase and take out the sundress you wore the day you and Toto went for coffee together and match it with a pair of Hermes sandals. The weather is now sunny in Monaco and you actually love how it is a great mix of sun, breeze and heat. You put on some makeup and style your hair as loosely as you can, you’re going to be in the sea after all. Later both you and Sara leave the house and go to the location that Marc dropped a pin on. You can hear people talking from the other side of the yacht, the one that faces the Mediterranean. You quickly jump on the platform on the back of the yacht and walk up to the place where everyone’s sitting.
“Hello everyone.” you say and you see Marc standing up approaching you. Sara is just behind and she waves everyone but doesn’t get any closer to you. Marc comes to your side and hugs you.
“Miss Horner.” he says in awe “It’s been a long long time hasn’t it?” he asks
“It has. Thank you for the invitation.” you say “We brought a little something.” you say and you hand him the bottle of Dom that you’ve been holding.
“It’s really no big deal, I wanted to see you and Sara so I just texted. Thanks for the Champagne.”
By the time both of you stop interacting, Sara is already sitting on the table and speaking to everyone. You take a seat, far from her in the only two empty chairs and Marc emerges shortly after to take the seat next to you. Without asking he starts filling your plate.
“You should definitely try the Croque Madame, it’s a miracle.” he says and you smile at him
“I will, thanks.” you reply as you register his existence next to you. He’s the most charming guy you’ve met, well less than Toto but to be frank, you can see why you were heads over heels with him. At that moment you decide to snap a photo and text Toto.
You
[Photo]
Much earned gift for my last week’s performance
Wolff
You better recharge, I want you on your A level in Baku.
[Photo]
The weather here is freaking awful, I miss Monaco.
You
Wait, you actually know how to send pictures? Monaco is amazing today. You should have been here.
Wolff
Replying: Remember who gives you access to the paddock.
If I were there you wouldn’t be in that yacht right now.
You
Toto behave, you’re at work.
Wolff
I’m at a business meeting and I hate those so why not distract myself with some other thought.
You
Because I’m so hot you’re going to embarrass yourself. Gotta go now, I've got a whole yacht waiting for me
Wolff
I don't blame them. Have fun, just not too much ;)
You laugh at Toto’s texts as Marc watches you at the same time
"Are you bored of us" he asks
"No, I just have to text someone" you reply
"Red Bull keeps getting you busy I see?" he asks
"Actually, I am not in Red Bull for the time being, I am just enjoying myself and I am actually moving here next week"
"Great decision to be honest. Monaco could use a distraction." He says
"So I've been told" you tell him
"By whom?" he asks and you realize you cannot possibly talk about Toto with him
"Just a good friend" you laugh
“ah one of those best friends, I get it" he says and you nod not showing any emotion at all over what it meant
“Are you enjoying yourself in F1?” he asks trying to start conversation with you
“I am. It is a space I’ve grown up in and I already knew everyone as well as everyone knew me. There’s nothing different as to what I’ve lived up to now except for the fact that I have a little bit more screen time than I used to have 5 years ago.”
“Well 5 years ago I used to see you almost every week and now I have to watch F1 to see you.” he says
“You watch F1 now?”
“I always watched F1.” he says
“I’m pretty sure you’ve only watched the Monaco Grand Prix.”
“Until this year.” he replies “Plus I have a really good reason.”
“What’s the reason? Max’s racecraft?”
“Nah, you are” he says and you freeze temporarily
“I’m flattered.”
“I meant it as a compliment so you should be.” he tells you and he looks at you with a flirty look and you turn to look at Sara who is already too invested in her conversation with Marc’s friend, Tristan.
The rest of the brunch party goes on in a pretty similar way. Marc keeps flirting with you and Sara is way too busy to come to your rescue. At some point the yacht leaves Monaco and sails in the Mediterranean for two or three hours while all of you party on the deck. Now the sun is setting down the horizon and you return back to the harbor of Monaco and the party has already winded down so you find yourself sitting on a chair sipping your last glass of champagne. Sara is nowhere to be seen, probably too busy making out with Tristan on the inside of Marc’s yacht since they’ve been missing for the last 45 minutes or so. The chair opposite to you is empty but not for long. As soon as Marc spots you he leaves his friends and comes to your company.
“Did you enjoy the party?” he asks
“It’s been a while since I partied like this but I loved it. Now relaxing with a glass of champagne is the must thing to do.”
“There’s plenty of space inside if you want to lay down for a while.” he tells you
“I think the space might be occupied by our friends and as close as I am with Sara today isn’t the day that I want to listen to her having sex with your best friend.” you laugh
“The yacht has 6 cabins. I very much doubt all 6 of them are taken.”
“6 cabins huh? The Taylors really have given it some thought before spending money on this yacht.”
“Yeah, my mom insisted. But hey, that’s why we’re working our asses off every day. To spend on things like this.”
“So you are working?” you ask him
“Yeah, I’ve taken over some of my dad’s companies and I’ve been living between Monaco and Switzerland for a while.”
“And how is it?”
“You know how it is. We’ve learnt to live in this world. I love the job but really that’s all I focus on. Thank god all these fuckers are around and remind me that I need to have a work life balance.”
“Oh my god. Marc Taylor is a workaholic?” you say surprised “You need people to remind you to live for a while instead of working?”
“My mom is so afraid that I won’t even have a wife that she’s trying to get me to meet eligible bachelorettes.”
“Lisa is actually doing this?” you ask shocked
“Lisa has been asking me to ask you on a date for months” he tells you and you laugh hysterically.
“Well tell Lisa that I am twice the workaholic that you are. I am not working and living, I am living my life at work. I am constantly working.”
“How does it feel?”
“It does get a little lonely at times. But as you’ve said I’ve learnt to live like this ever since I was a baby. Sometimes I just wish I had someone to support me.” you tell him and what he does next surprises you.
He leans closer and puts a hand on your cheek and kisses you. You don’t react. Partly because you were caught completely off guard and partly because your 19 year old self would die for this kiss but the only thing in your head that played over and over again is “You can’t do this to Toto” . He pulls away from the kiss and you smile but he’s looking for something more and you know it.
“Marc, look I am so flattered that you actually like me. My 19 year old self would be dead right now. But as much as I used to like you then, I cannot do it now.”
“You’re not into it huh?” he asks partly heartbroken partly surprised
“It’s not that. It’s that there’s someone else in my life right now and the things with me and him aren’t that simple so I wouldn’t want to further complicate it.”
“I understand.” he says “Although Lisa would be thrilled to have you as her daughter in law, I have to destroy her dreams.” he laughs
“I am so sad. Tell her I love her regardless and if I end up alone you’ll be the first one I will flirt with.”
“Bold way to tell me I am the second option.”
“Oh god no that’s not how I meant it. It’s just that you never know how life will play out. We might end up married managing the Taylor Group and Red Bull Racing, but we might just end up as two workaholic friends who push each other out of their working space.”
“That’s true.” he says
For the next 10 minutes you discuss and when the yacht finally arrives at the harbor you leave the yacht before thanking everyone. You and Sara walk back home and she keeps talking about her and Tristan during the whole way to her house. You keep quiet about the whole thing with Marc and let her vent about what happened for the rest of the day. Late at night just when you’re ready to go to sleep, her in her bed and you on an inflatable mattress Sara is still talking about Tristan.
“He actually texted me like 5 minutes ago, I can’t believe it.” she says “We are plann-”
“Marc kissed me.” you say interrupting her mid sentence
“WHAT?” she screams and jumps on her bed
“Yeah, you were too busy screwing Tristan on those cabins but when we arrived at the harbor, he sat down next to me and kissed me.”
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” she asks completely shocked
“Because you were venting about Tristan and I knew you would react this way.” you answer
“Well why aren’t you reacting in this way? You’ve had a crush on him since forever.” she asks
“Had. Past tense.”
“Well, do you have someone better than Marc to hook up with? His father is a freaking billionaire and he’s about to inherit all this. He’s handsome and kind and he’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”
“Yeah, now he’s not the one I am dreaming of. Plus, believe it or not, it’s not always about the money.”
“Are you out of your mind? Who is possibly a better option than Marc for you right now? Well, to be frank Charles Leclerc is. You’re not sleeping with Charles Leclerc are you?” she asks and you laugh
“If you actually knew who the guy who is the better option you’d definitely think I’m out of my mind. And no, I am not sleeping with Charles Leclerc, sadly.” you tell her
“If you don’t spill, I will kick you out.”
“I most definitely cannot tell you.”
“Come on, we’ve known each other since we were in the womb, your family is my family, what tells you that I could possibly say anything to anyone?”
“Okay, I will tell you, just because you actually are my best friend. But don’t you dare say anything to anyone or I will be destroyed. Oh, tell me your wildest prediction.”
“Just so that I have a clear target group, he is from F1 right?” she asks and you nod “Omg, is it Max? Because if it is Max it will be the most iconic friends to lovers boo-” she starts ranting and you interrupt to shock her once again
“It’s Toto Wolff”
“WHO?” she looks at you like you are a lunatic.
“It’s freaking Toto Wolff, Team Principal of Mercedes AMG Petronas F1” you tell her and she looks absolutely shocked
“You are definitely out of your freaking mind. Since when are you into older guys and how the hell did that happen?”
“I always thought he was attractive but was blindsided by Christian’s hate for him. But long story short, I got drunk once and we hooked up and it’s only been going downhill from there. I’ll have to explain it to you when I get to my new apartment.”
“I am absolutely shocked.” she says “Is he at least treating you right?” she asks
“We are just hanging out but he’s been decent I’d say.”
“Now that I am thinking about it, he kind of is the better option.” she says and she visibly loses herself in thought
“Just so you know, the only people who know about all this are you and Lewis.”
“I have a common secret with Lewis Hamilton?” she asks, showing her clear preference for him.
Your answer is to just laugh and then say goodnight to her.
The next day you are being woken up by the light entering the room from the window that you forgot to close. It’s the day that you will finally move to your new apartment in Monaco. You grab your phone first thing and you see millions of notifications, more than usual. Your first thought? Something bad happened. And indeed something had happened, not exactly bad, but the headlines from the news, tweets and tags are somewhere in between the tone of
“Red Bull Racing’s newest management addition shows her love with a billionaire’s son in Monaco.”
The first article wrote: Miss Horner and Mr. Marc Taylor were spotted getting cozy at the latter’s yacht party in Monaco harbor yesterday. The pair shared a kiss and they seemed to exchange some fond words. We are excited about this new romance blooming in the streets and seas of Monaco. Are we going to see the Taylor Group entering F1 alongside Miss Horner’s Red Bull Racing? It’s only a matter of time to see.
“Shit, shit, shit” you keep saying and Sara who has only woken up looks at you like you’re crazy
“What?” she asks
“It’s all over the freaking internet.”
“You and Wolff?” she asks nervously
“No, god, it’s me and Marc”
“Wait, how did that happen?”
“Someone must have snapped a picture of us while we were kissing when the yacht was in the harbor. God this is a disaster.”
“Why is it a disaster?” she asks. Well sometimes you really doubt about her having a brain
“If Toto sees this he’s going to be feral.” you say “Oh god, I should text him right now to let him know that the whole thing is a lie.” You open the iMessage app
Wolff
[Photo]
Flying to Nice from the UK, I’ll be in Monaco for the rest of the week.
You check the time that this was sent. Yesterday afternoon. You were probably at the party then and you accidentally deleted the notification so you didn’t see the message afterwards but now you decide to reply.
You
I hope that you have arrived in Monaco safely. I am sure I will see you somewhere here before we get the chance to meet all alone. Sorry I didn’t reply earlier but I must have accidentally deleted the notification while I was at that yacht party yesterday. Speaking of which, I need to talk to you about the whole thing going around on the internet.
You see that your messages are being instantly read but you get no reply.
“The moving truck will be arriving at the apartment in 20 minutes, we must get going. Come on, get ready.” Sara says
“S, Toto is leaving me on read, do you think he’s mad at me?”
“No, he’s probably too busy in those company meetings back at Brackley.” she tries to reassure you
“Toto flew to Monaco yesterday afternoon, he’s not at Brackley.” you tell her
“Well, he’s still working from Monaco so he might reply to you later. Girl, we really don’t have time for this. It’s moving dayyy.” she says trying to hype you up. “Up, up, up” she says trying to grab you “The moving guys will be at the apartment and you will be lying here all day? Let’s get ready to move in. You’ll worry about Wolff later. And at the end you told me that you’re just hanging out, it's not anything serious so you’re free to do whatever you want. And if he’s sure that you want him he won’t even believe those things.”
You stand up before replying and put on a pair of sweats and a Red Bull t-shirt to be comfortable while moving in. “I know that we’re just hanging out at the moment. It’s just that the things are confusing as it is now, I don’t want Marc Taylor confusing them more than that.”
“He won’t. But you’ll have to worry about it from your new bedroom so, shoes on, grab your bag and let’s go to the apartment.
You do as she says and 20 minutes later you are outside your newest home getting the keys from the owner while the guys are removing boxes and furniture from the truck.
“Well, you are here.” Sara says. “I have to confess it looks really pretty and modern.”
“Sara, it’s just the outside of the building.”
“But still it’s pretty. The actual apartment is prettier though” she says and she instructs all of the boxes with your belongings and furniture to be moved to the 6th floor. For the first time in your life you will be living at the top of a building. You and Sara take the elevator to the apartment. You unlock the door while the guys are waiting for you and you enter using your right foot first.
“It’s for good luck.” you say to Sara and she smiles doing the same
For the next 5 hours you and Sara assemble your furniture and unpack the boxes with all of your stuff. You show her your ideas on how to put everything into place as you’ve imagined it and as you’ve seen it on your pinterest moodboards. At some point both of you try to settle the bed in your master bedroom. A new queen sized bed that you bought after seeing how big the room is. The one side of the loft is covered in full length glass windows that have a great view to the mediterranean with a huge balcony just in front of them that you will probably enjoy your morning tea in, during the non race weeks. The light enters every room, giving them a great coziness and openness. While you two are trying to move the bed just in the right place you remember that now you happen to have neighbors.
“Shit S, are we making too much noise?” you ask
“Well, if you know another way that we can move this monster bed and not make a sound, let me know.”
“What if the neighbors are annoyed?”
“They can fuck themselves, it’s not even quiet hours yet.” she says and you help her do the job.
After the bed gets in the right place you lay there for a second
“Horner, come on, what are you doing?”
“I am too overwhelmed by this, we’ve been working for 5 hours nonstop and this thing isn’t anywhere close to a living apartment.” you tell her
“Oh and wait till I leave you to go to the gym.” she says
“Come on Sara, you are working out here can’t you just skip the gym today and help me a little with those boxes?”
“I’ve been doing it for the past 5 hours if that says something to you. I will be leaving in half an hour though. And don’t worry. You can take it one step at a time and after some time you will manage to unpack your whole stuff.” she says smiling
“I hate you.” you tell her and you go back to work.
You set your new office in the living room, just in front of the large window so that you get enough light and inspiration from the views outside. You also set the couch and the coffee table in front, as well as your new TV. Half an hour later Sara leaves indeed for the gym, leaving you all alone for the first time in your newest apartment. That’s when it hits you and you grab your phone. The messages you sent to Toto, still unanswered and it’s been a long time since he’s read them. You decide to give him a call. You press his phone number and wait for him to pick up. You hear one, then two, then three rings and then it goes straight to voicemail. You hear his voice that you haven’t heard since Sunday. The phone rang but it went to voicemail which means that he’s declining your call. You try once again, the same thing. You get it, he’s probably angry with the whole thing but if he doesn’t want to talk to you nor do you. Instead of overthinking it you throw yourself back at moving. You blast some Taylor Swift on the speakers that you connected first thing as you entered the loft, and drop a huge box of books in front of you which you put on the built-in shelves in the living room. You use your ladder to fill the upper shelves that you cannot reach by yourself. You keep dancing, moving things, chairs, couches and tables. At some point you hear the door knocking. You turn the music off and run to the door.
“Who is it?” you ask and you hear a voice from the outside of the door
“I live downstairs and I wanted to let you know that it’s quiet time now, you are annoying us with all that music and moving things.” the voice says. You feel very embarrassed about what you did and the last thing you want is to piss your neighbor off so you decide to open the door and apologize. But when you do you freeze.
“Toto?” you say and he looks at you, his eyes wide as if he just saw something unbelievable
“What are you doing here ?” he asks
“This is my new apartment in Monaco, I was just moving in.”
“You’re joking.” he says
“Do you actually live downstairs?” you ask thrilled
“I do yeah, I live on the fifth floor loft.” he says
“How was England?” you ask and he looks at you.
“Fine.” he replies, obviously bothered.
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you, I texted you this morning but you didn’t reply.” you say “I also tried calling but it went to voicemail.”
“Talk to me about what?” he asks acting like he doesn’t know
“About Marc Taylor. Toto, I know you’ve seen it, it’s all over the internet.”
“I mean what would you possibly have to say about Marc Taylor? It’s a shared secret that you’ve been wanting him since high school, everyone in Monaco knows it. You must be over the moon though. Handsome, rich, young and charming. Everything you’re looking for.”
“You have to believe me Toto.”
“Believe you about what? You clearly wanted the guy since forever so why not give in?”
“You fucking know that the whole thing is fake.”
“There are pictures,” he says, keeping calm.
“You know how it fucking is Toto, those reporters only take whatever they think will make people engage more with their stories. They only caught the kiss but after that I told him that there is someone else in my life.”
“I wouldn’t know. I am not the one going around boat parties in Monaco and kissing strangers.”
“Just admit you are jealous.” you say
“Now you know what? I find it really pretentious that you get to be angry with the whole Cynthia thing and I am suddenly overreacting to seeing you kiss other guys.”
“It is not the same.”
“No, it is exactly the same and your position is way worse than mine because me and Cynthia haven’t seen each other since this thing started.” he says
“Well, it’s not like this “thing” is something exclusive so I can see and kiss whomever I want.” you say
Toto turns and looks at you and this is the first time you see a kind of hurt in his eyes
“Do you ever shut up Horner?” he asks
“I’ve told you before, only if I am made.” you say and look at him
Hearing these words probably makes a bell in Toto’s head ring because the next thing he does is to grab you by both hands and pin you against the wall like he did the first time he kissed you. He looks down at you as you look up at him and he leans in to kiss you but you push him just a little and grab his hand. You put it against your neck and once he gets the memo he applies a little pressure that makes you go crazy. He kisses you slowly and you kiss him back in enjoyment. A few seconds later he grabs you and runs into the hallway searching for your bedroom. Once he finds the bedroom with the queen size bed he rushes and pushes you to the bed. You lie on your back looking at him. The power that this man holds, you think. You slowly begin to undress him, freeing him of his gray sweatpants and leaving him only with his boxers on seeing him growing hard as he looks at you.
“Is the bed new?” he asks and you nod
“What a way to use it for the first time huh?” you say and he laughs
“Let me tell you something Horner, I don’t want you anywhere near me with a red bull shirt ever again” he says and he strips you off of the red bull shirt “It’s the biggest turn off.”
“I can see it” you tease him. At first he seems pissed off but then he takes your sweats off and then he does the same with his T-Shirt.
“Enough talking” he says and he leans in for a kiss which you deepen immediately. He leans in on you and you push him towards you from his neck as he stabilizes himself by putting one of his knees between your thighs. You feel the intrusive thought in your brain and you grind yourself on his knee
“Much needy I see ?" he asks and you do nothing but look at him
“Can’t resist mister Wolff” you say
“As you should miss Horner.” he replies and his hand moves to your chest while he starts kissing you on your neck. You feel him leaving hot trails of kisses on you as his hand cups your breast. Well he certainly has a way of doing things. His kisses leave you wanting more, needing more so to make yourself feel good you move your hips against him once again and you can feel him laugh against your skin as he moves his hand against your panties
“So wet already” he whispers to your ear sending shivers down your spine “Does he also do that to you?” he asks clearly, talking about Marc. You shake your head as the words were kind of hard to come off your mouth
“Use your words baby” he says
“No, he does not” you say while your breathing is getting heavier
“Is he better?” he asks and you shake your head once again.
“Toto please, I need you.” you say and he obeys to your plea.
He removes his briefs and pushes your panties to the side as he enters inside you. It feels good. Better than it had in Jeddah. You gasp at the move and you dig your nails on his back as he kisses you. He suddenly grabs your hands and removes them from his back while thrusting in and out in a slow but great way.
“No touching today.” he says and holds your hands over your head with his strong grip. He keeps moving as you let small moans escape and you feel like you’re in another word. You want to touch him as well and right the time that he loosens his grip on you you try to move your hands but his grip gets stronger and smashes your hands back to the place they first were. You complain for a while but he makes you feel so good that this is the last thing you care about.
“You’re so good love. Always feeling so good.” the pauses between his words are getting bigger, showing that he’s feeling as good as he does. “Good god.” he says once again and you laugh at him. He keeps going strong though, changing the tempo of his thrusts, hitting and touching all the correct places. You feel getting closer and closer to your climax but instead of laying calm you start leaving kisses on his chest.
“You make me feel so good.” you say “Fuck Toto, you’re so good. God no you’re perfect.”
“Are you close?” he asks
“Yeah” you say and you gasp “You?”
“Very” he says in between his grunts. Some minutes later you come first and he follows you shortly after while repeating your name.
Right after that both of you lay naked on your new bed. Toto is caressing your hair as you are laying on his chest listening to his heartbeat. He breaks the silence first
“Are we good?” he asks
“I am good” you reply
“I am talking about our fight.” he says
“Oh I thought that it was established when you were repeating my name while having sex with me.”
“You’re right.” he says and stares outside the window while the sun is setting. Both of you sit in silence for a minute or two until you break it
“He’s not better.” you say
“Huh?”
“Marc Taylor. He’s not better than you. It was nothing but a kiss, Toto.” you tell him “And yes, he might be a European billionaire’s son and he might as well be hot and charming but you are also all those things, which surprise, happen to be everything I seem to look for in a man. But I need you to know Toto, in my eyes you are more charming and hotter than him. I would give Marc Taylor up for you but I wouldn’t give up you for Marc Taylor.” you tell him and you look up at him while he’s staring at you, clearly paying attention to what you were telling him.
“Thank you.” he says
You keep laying there and by the time the sun sets you are already asleep. You wake up an hour later and you see Toto is also taking a nap. You nudge him and he wakes up.
“What is it ?” he says being somewhere between asleep and awake
“Nothing, we just fell asleep here.” you say
“You’ve got a nice bed. Good choice.” he says
“I know but I have to get up to finish the rest of the apartment.”
“No one is helping you?” he asks
“Sara was here until she abandoned me to go to her gym session. Now I have to do this all by myself.”
“You know you don’t have to do all of it today right? You are going to be exhausted. Plus I can also help you with unpacking.”
“No, you probably have work to do. I’ll do them by myself and tomorrow Sara will be here to help me”
“Who is Sara?”
“My best friend. She’s the one that found this apartment for me” you tell him
“So she’s the one that I have to thank?” he asks and you nod while laughing.
“You will meet her as soon as I get back to Red Bull.”
“Which is going to be when?” he asks
“I know you want to get rid of me but I don’t have any information yet. Beth usually sends me my schedule the week before each grand prix and judging by the fact that she didn’t send it until now, I think this won’t be the weekend you are looking forward to.”
“Maybe you should start packing your things for Baku.” he says
“I don’t have anything to do there.”
“Come on, I told people Mindy Rosevelt will hang with us for a while longer.”
“Second race at Mercedes?” you ask excitedly
“The Ritz in Baku has already been informed that we would like an extra suite.”
“Toto, a suite? Again?”
“You always need a suite, love.”
“Do you have plans for Baku?” you ask
“How about we go to the paddock together, you sleep in my suite and you help us during the race?”
“So you only want me to be there to tell you about Red Bull’s strategies so you can win?” you say playing offended
“I only want you to be there because you make it easier for me to focus when you are next to me rather than in the garage next to ours. And because I want you in general.” he says
“That’s a good excuse.” you tell him
“After all, even if it was only for the strategy part, you should remember that all’s fair in war.”
“And love.” you say
“That also” he replies
“When are we leaving?”
“Wednesday night, with my jet from Nice airport.”
“Good.” you say
“Put some clothes on, we are going to unpack the rest of the boxes.” he says
“Yes sir.” you say
“Sir huh? Remind me of that the next time I am laying in bed with you” he tells you and you laugh as you stand up to put some clothes on. For the rest of the evening you and Toto unpack the boxes that you and Sara left. Both of you laugh as he makes fun of your music taste. He even dared to make fun of Taylor Swift, which you did not take lightly but still forgave him when he danced with you in the living room of your new apartment and when you both watched the harbor from the balcony. It is almost midnight when he decides he has to go.
“Why do you have to go now?” you ask
“The apartment is almost ready, Sara can help you set up the last box and I have to work tomorrow, unlike you.”
“You are literally working from home and your home is downstairs, why can’t you stay for the night and leave tomorrow night?” you complain
“Because this is your apartment, your space. You have to spend the night alone to get used to the feeling.”
“I’ve lived alone before, I know how it is.”
“Yes but now it’s different, you'll see.”
“Can’t it be different with you here?”
“It can, but I am positive you will be better off alone for this night.” he says “We won’t be lost after all, I will be downstairs, you can call me any time.”
“Okay” you tell him “Can I kiss you goodnight?” you ask
“What happened to you? You are too expressive!” he says
“I know, you are not used to it.”
“No, I am used to you being expressive, just not very emotional.”
“Changed state of mind” you say
“I like it.” he says “And to answer your question” he leans in and kisses you deeply “I was going to do it anyways.”
You smile at the gesture “Goodnight Toto.” you say
“Goodnight love.” he replies and he leaves.
You close the door and walk straight to bed where you immediately fall asleep.
The next day you text Sara and she drops by for a morning coffee in your new balcony. As soon as she enters the loft she looks around.
“Wow Horner, did you get any sleep?” she asks
“I actually did.”
“How did you unpack all of those boxes by yourself?”
“I didn’t do it by myself” you tell her
“Omg, who did you invite?”
“No one, a neighbor helped me.”
“Oh, you’ve already met your neighbors? That’s crazy. Are any of them hot?”
“Yeah I met one of them because he wanted to complain about the noise. And yeah, he was hot. In fact for me he is one of the hottest.”
“What happened to Miss Toto Wolff is the hottest man on earth? Did she disappear?”
“No she didn’t, because actually Toto Wolff IS the freaking neighbor.”
“What the hell?” she asks “Girl I need coffee and Monte Carlo air STAT.”
You make her coffee and your tea and go to the balcony where you sit on a big white table.
“Turns out Wolff is my freaking neighbor. He’s living downstairs and he heard the noise during quiet hours so he decided to give me a notice.”
“But when he saw you he forgot what he noticed” she says
“No actually he did make the notice and then we pretty much fought for Marc, ended up having sex, had a nap and then unpacked all of my boxes. We danced together in the living room and then he left because he had to work today.”
“You used the bed for the first time to have make up sex with Wolff?” she asks
“I pretty much did yeah” you tell her
“You are crazier than I thought you were.” she says
“I am crazier than I thought I were” you say
You tell her everything that happened yesterday night as both of you drink your beverages watching the view from your balcony. Later on Sara helps you unpack the last box and your apartment is finally set. The next few days you pass your time by hanging out with Sara and your other best friends who happen to be in Monaco. Toto drops by some days and you two hang out for some hours until one day you finally ask him for a Mercedes project to work on so you can spend your time by being more productive. Days pass and it’s finally Wednesday morning when you are actually packing your clothes for Baku. You take mostly summer clothes even though you won’t be able to wear any of the to the paddock. You also take your extra Mercedes shirts and pants as well as Toto’s Mercedes shirt. You make sure everything is there. After that you call Sara to drop by so that you can say goodbye to her and spend the rest of the day alone at the apartment until Toto knocks the door to let you know that your driver has arrived and is ready to take you to Nice to finally fly to Baku. A car ride and a flight later you and Toto land in Azerbaijan. Both of you wait in the jet until the car is ready to take you from the plane to the hotel. At that time the cockpit door opens and you take a look inside. The pilot who goes out of the cockpit is not Mike. You raise your eyebrow at this and you look at the door more intensely for Toto to notice.
“What are you looking at?” he asks looking up from his phone
“Our pilot.” you say
“What about him, are you not satisfied?” he asks
“No, I am. But the question is, where is Mike?”
“He’s on leave, why?”
“Just wondering”
“Why would you care about him?”
“Because I like him”
“Noted” he says and turns back to his phone without speaking
“Are you jealous Wolff?” you ask
“No”
“Are you sure?”
“End of discussion” he says and you laugh
“Okay sir.” you tell him
After that the crew opens the door and you get off the plane. You already made sure that you have your mask on you so people won’t recognize you. Back to the same old ways. You take a ride to the hotel and you walk straight to your suite in which some other Mercedes employee checked you in before you arrived. Toto goes back to his own suite even though he asked you to hang out with him instead. You settle down in your suite and check Toto's schedule for the weekend
13:30-14:00: Press conference
14:10-14:50: F1 Team Principal Meeting
14:50-16:00: Coffee Break
16:00-17:00: Team Meeting
18:00-20:00: Business meeting
20:30: Dinner
You open your phone and text Toto
You
I’ve been taking a look at your schedule, is everything to your agreement?
Wolff
Yes, all is checked and approved
You
Good to know. By what I'm seeing, it’s going to be a full day. I mean press, team meetings and business meetings
Wolff
Oh is it actually on my schedule?
You
The business meeting? Yeah it’s tabbed in from 18:00 to 20:00. Should I remove it, is it wrong?
Wolff
No, let them believe that I’m busy during that time.I have already planned something. It’s not a business meeting, it is supposed to be a meeting for us two but I told Brad that I will be busy so I guess he thought it was business related
You
Oh, so I am busy from 18:00 to 20:00 too? What are we going to do ?
Wolff
I would let you be curious but we are supposed to go to a boat trip in the Caspian. I’ve chartered a boat for a couple of hours and then we will be having dinner too, so please do not wear high heels.
You
Oh I love boat trips so no high heels
It’s not like I could put heels on though, I will be dressed in the Merc gear all day long
Wolff
Well pack another outfit but still no high heels
You
Okay then. I guess I’ll see you later?
Wolff
Tomorrow
You switch your phone off and fall asleep for a few hours. It’s already early in the morning since you left Nice at night and the flight lasted a long time but thank god you didn’t have to be at the paddock until noon. You wake up at 11 and order some breakfast. You get ready and phone Toto to let him know you are ready. 10 minutes later you are on your way there in his black AMG SUV and you see the fans taking photos of the car. Well it’s Toto they’re taking pictures of since they have no idea about who you actually are. You get out of the car and go to Merc’s hospitality. You wave Toto goodbye and you go to your office while he’s off to his. Later on you hear a knock at your door.
“Who is this?” you ask
“Mindy, it’s Lewis.” you hear a voice
You stand up and put your mask on before opening the door. Better safe than sorry. When you open the door you see that it’s indeed Lewis so you welcome him in. You take off your mask and sit on the little couch
“How is it going?” he asks
“Everything’s good, thank you. How are you?”
“Good. You know how it is. Just running around, trying to keep up with everything.”
“Lewis Hamilton trying to keep up? I am pretty sure everyone is trying to keep up with you, not you with them.”
“Well yeah, when it comes to F1 it’s pretty much how you say it is. But in real life I have so many things to keep up with.”
“I bet you do. Like I am pretty sure you are flying to New York as soon as the race ends.”
“I am. Met Gala.” he says and you laugh
“So you won’t be here for post race celebrations if you win. I guess I should hand the win to George this time, or maybe let Red Bull win.”
“Don’t you dare”
“I won’t Lew, you know you’re my fav. But if you want to secure the win, I need to get in the Met next year.” “Deal.” he says
“Oh god Lewis, I was only joking.”
“I know, but I am pretty sure that I can land you an invitation.”
“We’ll see until next year.” you tell him “Is Roscoes coming to the gala?”
“No, I am actually sending him back to Monaco for the week and then he’ll be with me in Miami.”
“Where is he going to stay in Monaco?”
“At the pet hotel.”
“Why don’t you leave him with me ?”
“In Monaco?” he asks
“I live there now”
“You do? I can leave him with you, of course.”
“If you don’t fully trust me I can ask Toto for his help. We live in the same building.” “I have so many questions about this but I have to go. It’s gym time.” he says
“We can figure out the logistics about Roscoe later. Have a good session Lewis.” you tell him before he leaves the office
For the next hour or so you hang out in your office all alone and when it is time you leave the hospitality center to accompany him to the press conference. Just when you are outside the press conference center you see Christian and by his side a really familiar face that you cannot remember. You take another look at her while Toto stops dead in his tracks.
“What?” you ask him and he looks confused. You take a look for a third time. You see a familiar girl dressed in Red Bull gear talking to Christian. It’s then when it clicks. The girl is Cynthia. Cynthia Jones dressed in Red Bull speaking to Christian. What the heck is this about? You can feel the anger rising to your chest
“Breathe” you hear him say
“That’s too far” you tell him
“It’s crazy.” he says “Go talk to her, find out what this is all about.”
“I will" you say
“Just be careful not to reveal too many things"
“Of course"
Toto glances at his watch. 12:55
“I should get going, press is starting in 5"
“Okay, I'll see you later" you tell him and he nods “Do you wanna meet here?"
“I’ll be straight off to the TP meeting. I will see you during the coffee break, okay?”
“Okay”
“Try to find out what Cynthia is doing here.” he says
“I will” you tell him and you smile
“And if you are too angry about what you find out, I have some files you can take a look at while you’re waiting.”
“Okay” you say and you leave him. You spot Cynthia hanging out outside the press center and you decide to approach her
“Hello.” you tell her
“Hi” she replies and smiles “Oh, you’re Mindy right? The girl who gave us the Mercedes tour in Jeddah?”
“Yup, that’s me.” maybe not “What are you doing here?” you ask her
“I landed a job in Red Bull Racing. Isn’t it crazy?” she says
“Oh definitely. You went from visiting the paddock to actually working here, congrats!” you try to play excited when you are actually fuming
“It was meant to be. I landed the job when I was visiting the paddock in Jeddah.”
“How come?”
“Christian Horner met us at the paddock club and he asked what we were doing. Once I told him about my studies in management he asked to see me in person and then he proposed this job.”
“What’s your position?”
“For what I’ve understood, I am currently sort of replacing Christian’s daughter while I am also acting like his PA.”
“Oh so management?”
“It’s still too early for that title and I definitely don’t have that much freedom as an executive does. I am thinking it more like an internship in management while also being a personal assistant to Christian.”
“Oh Christian” you say and you roll your eyes
“He’s not as bad as everyone thinks he is.” she says “He might actually be better than Toto”
“Yeah, nah” you tell her “Toto is actually definitely more human-ish than Christian.”
“And how would you know? Have you ever worked with Christian?” she asks jokingly. If only she knew
“No but judging from the paddock rumors he seems to be a tough one to handle.”
“Absolutely not. He is really kind and funny. Really chill type. He made me call him by his name since day 1. It’s really like we’re friends.”
“That’s really good for you.” you say
“What about Toto?” she asks. As if she would let it go
“Mr. Wolff is really nice.”
“You’re not calling him Toto?”
“No, he prefers to keep things professional. He’s more into being formal and things.”
“Must be boring” she says
“It’s pretty good for now and I’m always guessing, familiarity might be a little too much at some point.”
“Christian has been saying this about his daughter.”
“He has?” you ask slightly nervously
“Yeah, he said that working with family might be a little too overwhelming at some point.”
“Well he’s kinda right. Did he say why she left?”
“From what I’ve taken they decided that she should take a break and she’s currently hanging out in Monaco in her new apartment. He’s thinking of taking her back by the Monaco Grand Prix but he’s not sure yet.” she tells you
“Oh, well. Whatever suits them best.”
“Yeah, we are not the ones to judge.”
“Definitely not.”
“It was really fun talking to you again Mindy. We should hang out sometime.”
“Yeah definitely.” It’s not like you slept with the man I am sleeping with. you think
You wave at her and leave the press center to wait until Toto finishes his morning tasks. You open the F1TV stream and watch his interview. When Will starts asking a question to Franz Tost you decide to text Toto about your findings.
You
Turns out Cynthia Jones is staying in my life for good cause apparently Christian hired her in my position during the Saudi GP. And I wasn’t even out of the team for a week
You see him holding his phone and taking a glance at it while Franz is speaking. He rolls his eyes and puts the phone back in his pocket. You stay once again in your office, going through Toto’s schedule for the weekend and looking at your socials. Some time later your phone rings
Wolff
She’s going to make our lives hard but it's very typical of Christian to hire someone from the first day that you left
You
She even proposed that we should hang out
Wolff
If only she knew
You
That’s what I said
Wolff
She was waiting outside the press center for Christian and now they’re both in front of me walking to the TP meeting. She’s talking and Christian is laughing like he’s having the time of his life
You
I figured she’s that type of assistant cause according to her she and Christian are practically besties now. It’s going to be a good one when I get back to rb
Wolff
Remind me to mount a secret mic and camera on you when that happens cause I want to see the Horner-Jones fight.
You
I bet you she’s going to regret the day she agreed to that position
Wolff
Whoa, too aggressive. How about checking some data before the coffee break cause rumor has it that you love reading data and commenting on them
You
Anything to get her off my mind and anything for you Mr. Wolff
Wolff
I’m flattered. There’s a file in your email waiting for your comments and questions. Bet Bono is going to be thrilled. I am off to the meeting, see you soon.
After Toto’s messages you check your email to take a look at the file he sent you. It’s full of data and details about this year’s rocketship. It is then when it hits you. The data are from the simulator and the track they’ve been using is Barcelona. In Red Bull you always used to run simulations in Barcelona so you have the exact same data from your ex team. You open them and start comparing them and finding where Mercedes lacks compared to Red Bull. You also open Adrian’s and GP’s essays on car performances and start noting any questions or things you’ve noticed. You really hope Toto will actually use them in his meeting with Bono and James. However, you keep all of the comparisons to yourself. You are not sure Toto is in favor of cheating so you will probably announce it to him later during the coffee break. You make a new file and email it to his account.�� Later on you hear a knock on your door.
“It’s Toto” you can hear him say and you unlock the door for him to enter.
“Hey.” you say
“Hi, how are you feeling?” he asks
“I am good. I read all the data and I relaxed so much.”
“Well, I, on the other hand, almost had a fight with Christian.”
“Why?” you ask
“Because he was being a douchebag.”
“Nah, he was just being Christian” you tell him and he laughs
“Was the data any good?”
“Yeah, I also emailed you my questions and stuff.”
“Oh, I will be forwarding them to James and Bono.”
“Speaking of the data, I saw they were sim data from Barcelona.”
“We use Barcelona almost every time for our simulations.”
“Well, it turns out, Red Bull does too.” you tell him and he looks at you, suggests to keep talking “I have the comparisons fully made here. There’s also an excel file with all the lacks and the sections Red Bull might present an advantage.”
“This is interesting.”
“I know Toto. But the thing is, I didn’t email those to you because I didn’t know if you wanted to have access to all that information.”
“I totally get it.”
“You should understand that this is confidential, but if you decide you want it, it will be in your inbox right away.”
“This file can affect the whole development path for us.” he says
“I know, that’s why I kept it.”
“You should keep it for yourself.”
“I swear I won’t give this to Red Bull.”
“I trust that you won’t” he says
“I will always have it at hand if you want to use it though. Anything for Mr. Wolff” you say and both of you laugh
“Thank you.” he says “Do you want some coffee and a snack? It’s coffee break after all.”
“No, thank you. You can leave this tiny office and enjoy your coffee in your office. I feel bad for keeping you here.”
“I am only hanging out here because I want to.” he says “But I’ll leave you alone. We’ll have enough time tonight.”
“Of course.” you smile at him
“Meet you after the team meeting ?”
“I will be waiting.”
Once Toto leaves for his coffee break and the team meeting later you decide to go out and see the track. There are some bikes available at the hospitality center so you grab one and ride at the track of Baku. You see other people doing the same thing, some of the drivers are also doing their track walks. At some point you spot Max. It’s been a while since you talked considering the fact that you didn’t even see him in Jeddah but you kept texting during that time. When you spot him it is in your impulse that you almost yell at him to go and talk to him. When you remember that you are actually supposed to be an unbothered Mercedes employee you change your mind, and as you are caught up in your thoughts you almost lose your balance. Thankfully you save it before you find yourself in the ground or the barriers and you keep your direction and finish your lap. 6 km later you are back in your office, thankfully not sweaty since you took your time to circle the track, and you also have a cup of tea and a chocolate bun as a snack. You take a bite as you see today’s headlines from the Media day and you also take a look at some market news. After a while Toto texts again
Wolff
Just finished asking all of your questions to the mechanics and they were impressed to say the least because they managed to assess some really important things for the race
You
Next time I should be present in those meetings
Wolff
I will personally make sure of it. We will be done in 25, I’ll pick you up. Don’t be late
Those 25 minutes pass by quite fast and you don't realize until Toto is knocking at your door. Thankfully you packed your stuff earlier so Toto cannot complain about you being late.
“I am impressed.”
“I didn’t actually understand how fast the time passed. Thank god I had my things packed.”
“That’s why I texted you earlier.” he says
“Yeah but you cannot complain now.” you reply
“No, the truth is I cannot.”
“Are we going straight to the boat?” you ask
“Yes, that’s why I told you to pack another outfit. Tell me you didn’t forget”
“I did not”
“Good. Now get your stuff, we are leaving.” After that both of you leave the track and go to the boat Toto has chartered for a couple of hours. He helps you hop on the boat and he does the same
“Are you going to drive this?” you ask
“Are you scared?”
“It depends on whether you are driving this thing or not”
“I am driving”
“Are you allowed to do this?”
“You are shitting yourself” he laughs
“Yeah because if we drown, imagine the headlines people will write.”
“We’ll be the next Rose and Jack.” he says
“Yeah, almost.”
“Just so you know, I am fully capable of navigating the boat.”
“For real?”
“I have a sailing license.”
“Is there anything you can’t do ?”
“Think straight when you’re with me.”
“Very funny.”
“It’s true.” he says and you take a look around and see people walking up and down the harbor “What about finally leaving? We’re going to miss the sunset if we take any longer.”
“Let’s go” he sails and he undocks the boat.
The two of you sail in the Caspian leaving the Baku port behind you. Toto is making sure that everything he does is safe, occasionally checking on the radar to see whether there are other boats in close proximity. You sit by his side and snap a couple of pictures of him while he’s driving the boat. He looks absolutely stunning. It’s already late afternoon, 19:00-ish and the sky is starting to get sweeter, indicative of the sunset later on. When you are finally out of the waters in a space that is far enough from the shore but close enough so you can distinguish the structures of the city, Toto drops the anchor and stops the boat there. “That’s quite a nice view.” you say
“I figured you would like it” he says and comes to your side
“You can actually see the whole city from here.”
“I figured that since we are not able to see the city together on foot, maybe this is the second best option.”
“It is. Although I would have loved a nice walk and a tour of the old city.”
“I would have loved that too.” he says as you keep looking at the city behind you and puts his hand on your lower back.
“This right here, is the Maiden Tower," Toto points at a tower and your gaze follows his finger
“Legend has it that a young princess jumped from the top and ended her life because her father wouldn’t accept the man she loved."
“Hope I won’t end up this way.”
“God, I hope not.” he laughs and you shift your gaze to the two largest towers in the scenery
“The flame towers.”
“I know them Toto, I’ve been coming to Baku for a while.”
“Let me give you a tour, Horner. Don’t be shit.” he says and you smile
“Go on then.”
“The flame towers were finished in 2012. The building is a little less than 200 meters and it has a double purpose. In the first tower there are a lot of offices and apartments and in the second tower there’s a hotel.”
“What are they supposed to mean?”
“They are meant to symbolize the eternal spirit of Azerbaijan and the country's enduring strength and resilience. Plus the whole flame design idea came from an Ancient Azerbaijani tradition of fire worshiping.”
“I love them, they look so pretty.”
“And right beside there’s the crystal hall.”
“Never heard of it” you say
“Eurovision was hosted there in 2012.”
“Wait, how do you know, are you a fan ?” you ask him
“No, I hate Eurovision.”
“What?!” you say surprised. “You’re European, you cannot hate eurovision.”
“I can, and I do.”
“But why?”
“Because it’s kitsch”
“It’s not kitsch, it’s camp, everyone loves camp.”
“It’s kitsch and I hate it, move on.” he says
“I cannot wait for the day that I will make you watch it.”
“I’d rather Christian find out about us.”
“That’s a bold one” you tell him
“Last but not least, the fortress.” he says ignoring you and points to it
“I’ve seen the fortress, I took a ride at the track today.”
“How did you like it?”
“It’s so pretty, but it’s prettier from the sea. And much more interesting when you talk to me about it.”
“Hm” he says and he puts an arm around you
“How did you learn all those things?” you ask
“I read a lot, even if I don’t have time to see the sights, I like to read about them, get to know the story of the city that I am in.”
“That’s fair. I was wondering because I’ve been here like five times and I’ve never gotten past the name of each sight here.”
“That’s good because you can for once, not talk and let me show you around.”
“You’re the best tour guide I’ve ever had.” you smile at him and you leave a kiss on his cheek.
During the next hour you stay on the boat in the Caspian and see the sun set on the horizon. You take a look at the flame towers which reflect the orange and pink lights of the sunset. You snap some pictures of the scenery as well as Toto who is sitting carelessly in the boat with his white linen shirt and his sunglasses on. He also snaps some pictures of you from both yours and his phone and you also take some selfies. You immediately set the best picture of him as his contact picture and once you are done with the whole photo thing you get back to where Toto is currently sitting and relax with him for a little while longer. You two soak in the views without talking much. As it starts to get darker Toto drives the boat back to the harbor where you dock and leave to get to the hotel. Both you and Toto enter the elevator to get to your suites
“You’re coming over for dinner right?” he asks
“Well, I was thinking of getting some sleep for tomorrow.”
“Come on, I’ve already asked roomservice to have our table set.”
“Now I can’t say no.” you tell him and smile at him. When the elevator gets to your floor you walk out and follow him to the door of his suite. You enter first and he follows and the smell of food hits your senses.
“It smells fantastic.” you say
“It’s traditional Azerbaijani cuisine.”
“I love it. We should have tried the Saudi Arabian foods as well.”
“Well, nothing can go wrong with Italian.” he says
“Then why didn’t we order Italian” you tease him
“Because I wanted to immerse myself in the Azerbaijani culture today.”
“Is it a part of the guided tour?”
“Well, couldn’t it be?” he says “Since I’ve already given you a sight tour, I am ready to give you a culinary tour as well” he tells you as he pulls the chair off the table so that you can take your seat
“Thank you.” you tell him and you sit down as he walks back to his side of the table and sits down
“This is called Dolma.” he says as he leaves one of them on your plate “It is grape leaves with a filling of minced lamb with rice and some herbs.”
“Interesting” you say as you take a look at the plates on the table “Oh god, is this kebab?”
“You know kebab?” he asks
“Literally everyone knows what kebab is Toto, it’s not a secret. It’s actually one of my favorite street foods.”
“It is really good.” he tells you as he grabs a bite of it “You should also try out the pilaf”
You take a look at it “What is this?”
“It’s something like a risotto I guess”
“I thought you knew the exact recipe of every single plate” you tease him
“Apparently I don’t, I just took a look at the menu and chose what I thought was best.”
“Everything looks delicious though.” you tell him
“Wait until Miami. We’re going to eat some great burgers there.”
“Speaking of which, I am not sure that I will be in Miami”
“Why ?”
“Because it was cringe enough last year, I won’t submit myself to that whole cringe fest again.”
“You will be coming.”
“Says who?”
“Me” he replies and you sit there taking another bite of your amazing food, slightly annoyed . When he realizes that what he said made you angry he talks again. “Look, it is really important that you should be there. It is supposed to be your home race, we’ve told everyone that you are American, if you are only staying for a few more races it will be weird if you are not present for the only time you will get to go to a race in your country with the team.”
“No one will remember Toto.”
“People will remember. We have a list of each race in which we note whose home race it is. And by what I’ve seen you are already on the list.”
“I didn’t write my name anywhere.”
“I am pretty sure Bradley did. He probably remembers that you are American and just added you in.”
“And what about the home race list?”
“We are kind of celebrating it by giving them less time to work during the weekend, or allowing them to bring their families in.”
“That’s so sweet though.” you say
“I mean, people are important to us, they are not just workers, they are our companions.”
“I hate this team” you say and you see Toto lifting one eyebrow at you “I mean, I hate how much I already love it. How am I supposed to go back to Red Bull?”
“You can just stay in Mercedes.”
“And say what to Christian?”
“Tell him that his team is shit, his management is also shit and that you cannot grow in that shitty environment.”
“He’ll find out that you told me to say that and then you will find yourself on the cover of Corriere dello Sport.”
“Won’t be the first time.” he laughs “ Jokes aside, would you ever consider leaving Red Bull?”
“Now I certainly do. I mean, I hadn’t seen anything aside from how Red Bull worked as a team and the race weekend at Saudi was eye opening.”
“Is that a yes?”
“I am already considering it, yes.”
“Will be nice to have you here one day, without hiding I mean.”
“I wasn’t talking about Mercedes. I am considering an offer at Ferrari.” you tell him jokingly and he almost chokes at his wine
“Where?”
“Ferrari. It’s a really great team with a great legacy.”
“Ask them for a paddock pass for tomorrow then.” he says and you burst out laughing
“I am only joking.” you tell him “I would consider it if I had an offer from another team though.”
“We will always have a position available for you if you ever decide to leave that shithole.”
“I’ll tell you when this happens.”
“There’s a when, not an if, that’s good.”
“I know what’s best for me and I am slowly convincing myself it’s not Red Bull”
“Good.” he says and you two keep eating until you hear someone knocking on his door .
“I’ll be right back” Toto tells you and answers the door. You can hear him talking with someone, his voice is quite familiar.
“Shov?What are you doing here?”
“Do you have some time to see tomorrow’s practice program?” you can hear him say
“Um, I am actually a little busy.”
“It will only take a second, you should only check and approve it.”
“I fully trust you Andrew, I approve of it.”
“Good.” he says and he almost leaves “Are you having dinner with someone?”
“Yes, with Lewis, we are discussing contract extensions.”
“Has he been here a long time?”
“An hour or so.” Toto tells him
“That’s funny, because 20 minutes earlier I was at the gym with Lewis.”
“Um…”
“It’s okay Wolff, I hope you are having a good time with whomever you are hanging out with right now” he says and laughs “Hello unknown person who is having dinner with Toto.” You hold your laugh until Toto says goodnight to him and he leaves the room. When you see Toto entering the room with his ‘I fucked up’ face, you burst out laughing and he joins you seconds later. “I hope he was not angry” you tell him
“No he wasn’t angry, I am pretty sure he was thrilled about the whole thing. He’s been trying to get me someone to hang out with for ages.”
“You are good mates huh?”
“He’s one of my closest friends, yes.”
“And he still asks for your approval for the program he wants the team to follow tomorrow?”
“Yeah, I’ve told him millions of times that it’s not necessary but he insists.”
“That’s so sweet of him.”
“I am only taking a look at it before approving it, it’s not like I pay that much attention, I fully trust him.” he tells you and you keep eating
“When are we leaving for Miami?” you ask
“We? I thought you weren’t coming.”
“I am, I also have to bring Roscoe with me, I promised Lewis that I will take care of him from Sunday till we get to Miami so that he doesn’t have to while he’s in New York for the Met.”
“You promised Lewis that you will carry Roscoe all the way from Monaco to Miami?”
“That we will carry him, yes.”
“How did I get involved in this? I don’t remember having any conversation about a dog.”
“I told him that I would take care of him and then I promised that you will help me since you’re now my neighbor. I figured you would know him a little better than I do. I mean Lewis brings him to the paddock almost every week.”
“And have you ever seen me with a dog in the paddock?” he asks
“No, but I thought you had a good relationship with him.”
“Me and Roscoe’s relationship is nonexistent, Horner.”
“Oh god, tell me you are afraid of Roscoes” you make fun of him
“I am thinking of leaving Nice on Thursday morning.” he says
“You are changing the subject.”
“I am not, you asked me when I plan on leaving for Miami and I answered.”
“Thursday huh? What about Media day?”
“I’ll have Shov or either one of the two James to do it and we will be present for the Free practice.”
“Cool.” you tell him
For the rest of the night you hang out together until you decide to leave.
“Will we be going to the paddock together?”
“I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning.”
“What’s the schedule for tomorrow? Hold up, let me check.” you tell him and grab your phone out of your pocket to take a look. “Oh you have a business meeting after FP1 which is supposed to last almost until the start of FP2. James is set to do the press.”
“I don’t remember having any business meetings. Who is it with?”
You take a look at your phone reading the name which catches you completely off guard. You blink twice and take another look at it, still the same name. “Who planned this?” you ask
“I don’t know, I don’t remember planning anything for Saturday. Maybe Bradley did.”
“This cannot be real.”
“It better not be Cynthia again.”
“Who cares about her right now?”
“Will you tell me who I am meeting tomorrow for whatever reason or am I going to this meeting unprepared?”
“The guy you hated last week, Marc Taylor?”
“Seriously?”
“I am dead serious Toto, his name is here.” you tell him and show him the name on the schedule. “You are supposed to discuss sponsorship. Apparently the Taylor Group is interested in investing in F1”
“This is going to be a hell of a meeting.”
“This is going to be a disaster.”
“Funny that both of the people from our past keep appearing in our ways.”
“It’s not funny, it’s shit. Toto, promise me you will handle it gracefully.”
“Dear, I have nothing to be afraid of. You’ve proven to me who you’re always thinking of. It’s pure business. If he wants to invest and it favors the team then we shall cooperate.”
You take a deep breath “That’s too much information and it’s already getting late. I am guessing I should get going.”
“Won’t you stay for the night?”
“Nah, it’s quite early in the race weekend and I want you to focus tomorrow. Both for the testing sessions and the Marc thing.”
“Okay, see you tomorrow?”
“I am actually thinking that maybe I should skip FP1 since Marc will be around, I don’t want him finding out who I am.”
“Smart idea.”
“I am going to drive myself to the track and meet you for FP2”
“Brunch at the track?” he asks
“Oh definitely.” you tell him and you kiss him goodbye as you go back to your suite. You don’t have anything to do so you decide to check your emails before going to sleep. You see a new message popping up the list From: Netflix, DTS
Miss Horner, we would like to schedule our next shooting with you for the newest season. Please let us know if and when you are available to be present at the track where the interviews take place.Kind Regards, The DTS Producers
You shrug and decide to answer From: Ms. Horner
Hello and thank you for contacting me, I am currently taking some time off the team and I am not aware of which race weekend I will be back in the paddock. I will however be happy to inform you as soon as I find out about my whereabouts within Red Bull. Regards, Miss Horner
You set your alarm at the same time Toto’s and Marc’s meeting is supposed to take place and then switch off your mobile and fall asleep. The next morning you wake up just in time to actually take a shower and get ready to go back to the track. You arrive there just in time for FP2. Everyone’s already in the garage so you decide to go there directly. As always, you see Toto sitting at the top of the fantasy island watching over the two garages. “Hello Mr. Wolff.”
“Oh, you’re here!” he says
“How did your meeting with Marco Barco go ?” you say and as soon as the words get out of your mouth you see Marc Taylor himself walking next to Toto with his headset on “How did you just call me?” he asks and you freeze, mainly because no one calls him like this except from you, the Horner you, not the Mindy Rosevelt you. “How did I call you?”
“Did you call me Marco Barco?” he says and Toto looks at the both of you slightly confused
“I called you Marc. Just Marc.” you tell him
“Alright.” “Mindy, this is Marc Taylor, he’s the owner of our newest sponsor. We closed the deal earlier during our meeting.”
“Mr. Taylor, I am so glad that we will have you around more from now on.”
“So am I, I am glad that I actually decided to go for my instinct and invest something in F1.”
“Absolutely.”
A short minute after he asks
“Why are you still wearing a mask? Isn’t it bothering you?”
“Oh no no, it does not. I am actually wearing it because I don’t want to catch any colds and lose my internship days.”
“I see. And where are you from? Mindy right?” By the questions he asks you are already sure that he is suspecting something
“Yes, I am from Boston, US and I ended up here as an intern from Daimler US.” you say and he answers “That’s really cool.” For the rest of the time you don’t interact, Toto isn’t involving in any of your talks and you know it’s because he fears that he’ll fuck this up more if he does. However, he still speaks to you and Marc separately and when he’s talking to Marc he shows off a little more confidence and certainty. It’s like he knows that he’s better than him, which he actually is and you’ve made it clear both that night in Monaco and yesterday after your dinner. The session finishes with the two red bulls on top, followed by the two Mercedes. “P3 and 4 isn’t bad but it’s not P1 and P2 either. I know we’re running similar engine mappings and we still need to be on top.” Toto says in his message to the mechanics.“I am sure we will be there by tomorrow.” you tell him “I should go grab some food because I haven’t eaten yet. I am sure I will see you around Mr. Taylor.”
“I believe so.”
“Marc and I are going to talk a little more and he’ll be off in a while. Talk to you later?” Toto says and winks on you while Marc is on his phone “Of course Mr Wolff. See you later.” you tell him and get back at the hospitality center where you get some food which you take to Toto’s office. You unlock the door with the set of keys he has given you and you set your tray at the table beside his office. You lock the door as you stay inside in order to surprise him. After some time you can hear footsteps approaching and the door handle moves but the door doesn’t open“Oh it is locked.” you can hear Toto say and the next thing you can hear is his keys on the lock. He opens the door and just as he enters the office you speak “I thought we should have brunch together.” The man who enters the room stops dead in his tracks. Of fucking course it’s Marc, followed by Toto who is gesturing something to someone in the hallway. Toto stops and looks at you. Marc speaks first “Horner, what are you doing there?” he asks “Shush Taylor, they’re going to hear you.”
“Why are you sitting in Toto’s office dressed in Merc gear?”
“Ummm” you say and you pause to think “F1 made us have team principal meetings like this in order to boost our relationship” you tell him, not a good excuse. In fact it’s a terrible excuse. “What kind of bullshit do you think you’re selling to me?” Marc asks. Toto is just behind him shaking his head “There’s no point in trying to lie to him.”
“Isn’t there?” you ask and at the same time Marc is taking a look at you. “You’re Mindy? I figured something was wrong here.”
“Look, I need you to shut your mouth about this. No one can know.”
“Why are you here in the first place?” he asks “Christian shut her out of the team for an unknown period of time and she wanted to have access to the paddock without paying herself.” Toto says. “Why didn’t you ask Franz to take you in his team for a while?”
“Because I didn’t want Christian involved in anything.”
“So you two guys had a fight? And what about Mercedes Toto, how is the team going to be safe with all of this.”
Toto tries to explain the situation to Marc “She has already signed NDAs about the team, and I wouldn’t even take her in if i didn’t trust her.” You take a deep breath and Toto understands the position you are in so he decides to leave you and Marc alone for a second “Should I go fetch us something to drink?”
“Yes please.” you tell him
“Why did you end up out of the team in the first place?”
“I was late to a business meeting. You know how Christian is with them.”
“And he threw you out. How long has this been going on ?”
“Not long ago, the GP in Jeddah was my first one with Merc.” you say. Marc stays quiet for a while and his eyes spark with realization a minute or two later. “Oh god, it’s him, isn’t he?”
“What?” you ask him. “The guy you’re heads over heels with? The situationship man! That’s why he’s the one you turned to for the paddock access and that’s why he gave it to you. You two are dating right?”
“Well yeah, it is him but I told you before, no one can know okay?”
“Of course. How long have you been together?”
“We are not together yet, we are just spending time.”
“Yeah right and he took you in his team because he’s just spending time with you.” he tells you and you laugh “I might not know him for a long time but I can tell who I am making deals with. He’s a very direct guy.”
“I know he is.”
“If it’s not me, he’s the next best option.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying since this has been happening.”
“I am happy for you, really.”
“Thank you Marc.” you tell him. Later on Toto comes back with your drinks and the three of you discuss for sometime. Later on and only after you’ve completed your duties for the day you wave Toto and Marc goodbye and go back to your hotel. You sit in your room, have an extra long video call with Sara in which you tell her everything about today and all the days you’ve been missing from Monaco and she texts you a photo from her balcony in Monaco which you post in your official instagram story in order to make everyone believe that you are actually there and not in Azerbaijan. You watch a bunch of drive to survive episodes to prepare for your upcoming interviews and then take a long relaxing shower. Before you even realize it is time for dinner and just as you were thinking of it you get a text
Wolff
Are you coming over for dinner?
You
Nah, I am actually thinking that maybe I should get some rest before tomorrow. I will be ordering something here instead
Wolff
Okay. I hope you are alright
You
Yes, all good but I would like to be excluded from tomorrow’s practice session. Only if I am not needed that is
Wolff
You are always needed but you are always working hard and think you deserve to have the session off
You
Thank you Toto, I won’t forget that ;)
Wolff
I hope you won’t
After your chat with Toto you decide to order some dinner in your room and after that you spend some time on your socials before going to bed. The next day you wake up early as you hear someone knocking at your door. Well, it’s not just someone, in fact, it is Lewis who is at your door and right by his side is his best friend, Roscoe. You were expecting them since Lewis told you he would bring Roscoe over to your suite before hitting the track for FP3 and now you are supposed to take care of him and bring him back to the paddock just before qualifying, when Angela will take over from you. “Good Morning. Were you sleeping?”
“I was yeah but I was planning to wake up either way.”
“This is my good boy Roscoe” he says and he kneels and pats his back “Good boy” he says. “He is adorable.” you tell him and you also kneel to pet him. “He might be a little shy at first, he just wants a lot of cuddling and playing. I am sure he will love you though.”
“I hope he will, we will have to spend some time together before Miami.”
“Toto mentioned that you didn’t want to come, did you decide otherwise?”
“I did yeah, we are planning to come on Friday so Roscoe will be there by then. When are you flying from New York?”
“Thursday morning, I have media duties, I am not like you.” he laughs
“Well, I am not going to the Met either so I guess we are even.”
“Yeah right. Am I going to see you at qualifying?”
“Of course, I plan on coming, I will bring Roscoe to you later.”
“Good, see you then I guess.”
“Bye Lewis.” you say as you wave him goodbye. Roscoe and you enter your suite and you can see him running in his tiny feet trying to take in the space around him. You decide to take a shower but you leave the door open and as soon as you come out of the tub you find Roscoe sitting there waiting for you. For the rest of the time you play with his favorite toy that Lewis left you and he lies on your side as you take a look at the morning news. When the time comes, you get ready and hit the track once again but this time with Roscoe Hamilton on your side. You can see photographers taking pictures of you but you remain completely calm as your face mask and your hair hide your real identity and enter the Mercedes hospitality. You drop Roscoe off to Lewis’ suite where Angela takes over, and text Toto who you can clearly see from the garage that you’re currently sitting in. Toto is just outside making statements to broadcasting channels and companies ahead of qualifying and you are sitting there on the right side of his chair waiting for him to come back as soon as the broadcast of qualifying begins. The session is pretty good for the team, meaning Mercedes and the drivers manage to get P2 and P3. Max is sitting in P1 for tomorrow’s start, a brilliant lap from him you think. “2nd and 3rd are pretty good positions.” Toto says. “The only thing that scares me is Max in P1.”
“We’ve got him, the setup for the race will be even better, Mick has been running the data from the analysis the engineers made based on your comments on the simulator and we’ve seen impressive lap times. We’ll get this for sure.”
“I never doubted their skills, I am sure they can even make the Williams work.”
“They are not doing miracles, they are just engineers.” Toto says and you laugh “They had some good guidance, we wouldn’t have found the exact setup if it wasn’t for you.”
“It’s just Saturday though. We will see tomorrow.”
“You’re right.” he tells you “About tonight, you don’t have any plans right?”
“Except for laying in bed as soon as I get back and ordering dinner I don’t plan on doing anything else.”
“Dinner and movie then?” he asks and you nod “Hitting the track together ?” you ask and he blinks a couple of times. “How come?”
“Well, won’t I be sleeping in your suite tonight?”
“I am surprised that you’re even proposing that.”
“Well if you don’t want to, I have plenty of space in my suite, I will be sleeping all alone again.”
“Okay, dinner and sleepover in my suite for tonight.”
“Will you be doing press?” you ask.“Only for an hour or so, after that I need you with me in the post qualifying meeting with the mechanics.” he tells you. “Where?” you ask surprised. “I need someone to write some notes down for me during that meeting so I figured you would want to join.”
“But-” you hesitate and he interrupts you before you can finish up your sentence “I don’t have any issue with you, I fully trust you.”
“I know, you’ve been quite vocal about it.”
“Well, best believe it. Also, you won’t be there just for note taking, you can partake to the whole meeting with your points or ideas”
“You cannot be serious.” you tell him. “I am as serious as it gets Horner. Wait for me outside your office in an hour.” Toto says as he waves at you and disappears from your sight. After an hour you find him outside your office. Both of you attend the post-quali meeting where you participate with a lot of questions about the performance of the car. At some point you also hear praise from Bono about the setup that you proposed. Well, he didn’t exactly give credit to you, since for him it’s nowhere near your job to give mechanical input about a car set up but he did say that whoever came up with the insights on the setup was a great help. The car was flying compared to the free practice yesterday. It turns out that you actually helped them and you now, more than ever, feel a part of a team that embraces you even if it isn’t directly said to your face. As soon as the meeting is done you and Toto go back to the hotel, wasting no time in the paddock. You get directly back to Toto’s suite where food is already served. The both of you eat and then you relax for a while on the couch
“I am so exhausted from today.” you tell him
“Do you want to sleep?” he asks
“How about we watch a movie?”
“You are going to sleep in the first 5 minutes”
“I promise you I won’t” you tell him “Not if the movie is good anyways”
“How about La La Land?” he asks and you look at him and burst into laughter. “You want to watch La La Land? Are you serious?”
“I just happen to know that you love it.”
“Yeah but do you actually like it?” you ask. Toto clears his voice“Um, I haven’t watched it.” and you answer surprised “You cannot be serious.”
“I am. Whether you believe it or not, I don't watch such movies. Or any movies at all.”
“You are traveling 300 days out of 365 and you don’t watch movies? What do you do on the plane?”
“Read the news, sleep. It’s not that I don’t watch movies, it’s just that it is not on a regular basis.”
“I will make you a cinema fan, I swear. La La Land was game changing for me. That’s what we are going to watch. I don’t care if you don’t like musicals.” you say and you navigate in the TV menu to find the movie stream “Oh and by the way, if you haven’t watched Mamma Mia yet, I will get my ass off this suite and not talk to you until you watch it.”
“I have watched it and I can say that I actually liked it.”
“Aren’t you ashamed to say it Mr. Perfect Image?” you ask him. “Not to you. You clearly watch that kitsch fest that is Eurovision and love musicals so I am not the one to be ashamed here.” he says. “Hey!” you yell at him.“Just press play Horner.” he says and you follow his instructions. During the whole movie you can see he watches with pure interest, even during the songs which he doesn’t know he seems like he’s having fun. You are doing your part to keep him entertained, singing all the songs since this is probably your 50th rewatch. You make all the fun and smart remarks that you’ve seen on socials from other fans of the movie to keep him engaged. When the movie ends, during the epilogue scene and towards the end you can see him tensing, kind of trying to cover his emotions up. As the credits roll you turn to him. “So? What do we think about one of the most amazing musicals made to this day?”
“The ending” he says and pauses. “The ending what?” you ask him. “The ending was weird. Like it really made you believe that this could work but it actually was the ‘What could have been’ moment. It was kind of brutal.”
“Well, that was the intention. To show that two people had to let go of each other to achieve their dreams. It’s because they loved each other that they decided to do this. Now that I am thinking of it, it kind of is brutal, but it’s realistic. Life is brutal sometimes.”
“Do you analyze every movie that you see like this?”
“Well, yeah? That’s the point of watching a movie, it’s not looking at beautiful pictures for three hours straight and then going to sleep.”
“So you’re really passionate about it then.”
“I am yeah.”
“It’s kind of nice that you find things that you really like and are so passionate about them”
“You can also do it, you know. Being that one guy who’s obsessed with managing a team, finance and racing isn’t all you can ever be. You can have hobbies and other interests. I just think you are scared to break that flawless facade, which is funny because I genuinely believe that you are a man that is full of passion and you want to show it to people. You are afraid that if anyone outside of your safety bubble finds that you are human and not a well programmed robot that performs at its peak day in day out, your life will end. I know you try to be open about things that concern you and people around you, like how you’ve been speaking out about your mental health, but showing your real self can be hard for you but you should really try.” you tell him and he sits there just listening “How about we make this a thing? Movie night, once a week. Or more if you have more recommendations.”
“Am I about to turn you into a cinema noob?”
“Shut up.” he says and checks his watch that is resting on the arm of the couch you are currently sitting on. “How about going to sleep? We have to be at the paddock tomorrow morning.”
“Yeah sure.” you say and both of you walk off to the bedroom where you sleep until Toto’s alarm goes off. “Good Morning.” he says, his voice deeper than usual, with that sleep raspiness standing out “Hello.” you tell him and you can feel him shifting next to you“It’s race day”
“I am aware. I have a really good feeling about today.”
“Hm” he says “Do you sense a win?” he asks and he plants a kiss on your cheek. You could get used to it. “I actually do. I feel like we are going to do well.” and you can almost hear him laughing “Who’s we?” he asks you. “Mercedes?” you tell him and he laughs, content that you actually consider his team yours by now.You lay still on the bed for a few more minutes, sitting in complete silence but you can feel the two of you debating whether or not you should get off the bed. You and Toto are too lazy to do anything but like always he’s the one who takes the initiative and moves. “Come on, get yourself ready. We have to be down at the paddock in 45 minutes.”
“I don’t need 45 minutes.”
“Oh you’re sure about that?” he asks. “Positive. You can time me if you want.” you reply.“Yes?” he asks. “Yea. But I am not going to race myself to get ready without breakfast first.”
“I thought you were smart enough to figure out that we are always having breakfast at the track.” You don’t reply, you just sit and stare outside the window while Toto is using his phone. With his serious voice he says “Hey Siri, call Jasmine.” and then his phone starts dialing. It’s not after a minute that a female voice answers the phone. “Hello Jasmine, this is Toto, can I have my full breakfast order done and served in 45 minutes in my office?” he asks and waits for a few seconds. “I also want two servings of the same order, that in my office too, same time.” he says and you smile at the chat he’s having with his employee. “Also, it is really important that you find Mr Lord and let him know that I will not be available for the next 2 hours and I don’t want any distraction while I am in my office. Yes. Yes. Thank you Jasmine.” he says and he ends the call. “Now that you know breakfast is waiting, go get ready. Now.”
“Is this an order?”
“I am already counting.” he says and you run to get ready.You start running around his suite grabbing all of the things you need for race day as Toto sits on the couch scrolling on his phone while he gives you some glances. 15 minutes later you are ready to go, bag on your shoulder, shoes on. “I’m ready” you say standing and looking at him. “You are quick.” he says, still scrolling. “I am. We could go now, although you are not ready.”
“It won't take more than 5 minutes.”
“Really?” you ask “Yes. I just put my clothes on, get my iPad and my computer in my bag and I’m ready to go.”
“Oh I thought you needed time to get your face ready for cameras.”
“Nope, I’m all natural, the one who needs to get her face ready is you.”
“I didn’t do anything on my face except from washing it and applying some sunscreen. I am 100% natural today.”
“I see. Although you cannot convince me that when you were at Red Bull you took less than 35 minutes to get ready.”
“Well yeah I needed like half an hour to get my hair and make up done. I have to get camera ready every day. I was always late and Christian yelled at me so many times. Now no one sees me so it really doesn’t matter if I look like shit.”
“You don’t look like shit, you are great.” he tells you “Aw thanks.” you say and you drop your bag on the floor and sit next to Toto on the couch and give him a peck on his cheek. He turns and looks at you and kisses you right on the lips, instantly deepening the kiss laying you on the couch. You smile in that kiss and keep going, tangling your fingers on his hair, pulling him closer. He puts his hand under your waist and pulls you closer and you can already feel a burning desire. “How about we get back to bed?” he asks. “We have to go Toto” you manage to say between kisses.“I don’t want to leave.” he says. “We can miss the race to be honest.” you tell him. “Yes we can.” he tells you “But we won’t. Plus you’ve already ordered us your breakfast”
“You’re better.” he says and you scoff when you hear his words. “Oh god, behave Wolff” you tell him and you push him away teasingly. You walk away from him and he sits there, resting his head on the back of the couch trying to calm himself. “You got to get ready now”
“Okay.” he says unwillingly and stands up and starts getting ready. Half an hour later you take the walk from the hotel to the paddock which has already begun getting flooded with people. Both you and Toto take your breakfast at his office and then you follow him around in his pre race routine, from fan zones to debriefs, to interviews and finally to the grid. You spot Christian and Max many times during your time there but Toto doesn’t say anything more than a Hello to both of them. You watch Max get ready to hop in the car in front of both Lewis and George and can’t help but feel a bit of anger that he is sitting on pole. You know Mercedes’ car is fast, it’s more deserving to be in P1 than Max. You know you have to work hard to bring them in P1 and P2, because the Red Bull is not slow either, you know the car from inside out, and you know it’s capable of winning. It’s only a race’s time. When it is time you manage to greet Lewis in a flurry of cameras, fans and engineers at the grid and head back to the Mercedes garage. As you head towards the entrance of the garage you hear your (fake) name being called and you turn to see Cynthia outside the Red Bull garage as she shouts good luck to you and you yell back at her, wishing her good luck. You take your place at the fantasy island and watch the race start. Max launches off perfectly, at the right time and Lewis and George get a little left behind. As the race goes on, Max is still in front of the two Mercedes drivers, who are actually closely following him. You keep watching fully focused on the telemetry screens in front of you, and listening to the talks between team members about pace and strategy. Not long after the race start, you see both cars overtaking the Red Bull and launching off into the distance. The cars are quite quick but Max keeps following them, in DRS range. The rest of the field stays back as the two black and the one blue car fight to get the first place. As soon as it is time for strategy calls you can hear the team agreeing on a double stack for the pit stops, and so it happens, but as it is normal, double stacks can’t always be flawless. George’s stop is perfectly timed and great in duration so that the undercut will be strong enough but on the other hand, Lewis who has been really unlucky with some shitty stops has it again. The front right tire doesn’t come off as quick and the stop lasts a whooping 5.6 seconds, which makes Lewis lose a track position to Max and a whole 2 seconds to him as well. Toto gets so frustrated with the stop that he smashes the desk like he always does and the race continues. Toto is all the time on the radio with the strategists and the mechanics and as a result he has no time to talk to you. Lewis is chasing Max but failing. Max is much quicker than he is and when he does reach him he is not able to make a move on him. The race finishes with George in 1st place, Max in 2nd and Lewis in 3rd. As always Toto reaches and presses the button to congratulate George and you can see the message being broadcasted on TV. George happily replies and celebrates, thanking Toto and the team. And then Toto moves on to congratulate Lewis. Lewis is much less excited than George was. He just thanks Toto and the team and switches his radio off. You realize from the first minute of the broadcast that Lewis is kinda pissed off and disappointed.
“We won” Toto turns and tells you with a smile on his face. “Lewis is disappointed I’m sure. But yeah at least George won.” you tell him. “I know Lewis will be disappointed. We let him down today, he’s not going to be glad. He did everything he could but still the car just couldn’t work to get past Max.”. “I am really hoping he will be alright.”
“It’s Lewis, he’s always bigger than this. A title got stolen from him and he kept on going. I am sure he’s going to come out of this car, go to press and celebrate with us even though he might feel bitter about the third position.”
“Yeah, you probably know him better than I do.” you say and then Toto leaves you in the garage while he’s walking around the paddock talking to journalists, Sky Sports, F1 TV. Later on there’s indeed a celebration with the team for George’s win and Lewis’ podium and everyone gathers there. There’s the usual team picture and then the champagne celebrations which everyone tries to avoid but gets caught up to. After the whole thing winds down you find Lewis sitting outside the garage and you sit with him “Congrats for today!” you tell him trying to cheer him up “Uhh, I don’t know man, this isn’t my best result, but thanks either way.”
“Come on Lewis, you know you did the best you could, and it’s okay, I was in the garage next to Toto and right after that mistake he kept on trying and asking on how you could get past Max and even George but I guess the stars didn’t align for you today but for George.”
“I guess you’re right. I feel like I am overreacting but you know I have to keep my head up, nothing comes out of complaining.” Lewis says. “You just somehow became your own therapist and you overcame the whole thing in like 5 minutes. I hate you.” you tell him laughing. “I’ll teach you how to do it, it seems like you will need it when you leave us.” he says reminding you of your situation in Red Bull. “Definitely” you tell him and you sit there in silence for a while until Toto comes by you. “We’ve got to get going, we only got one and a half hour before the jet leaves”.
“You’re leaving now?” Lewis asks and Toto nods but some mechanic comes to talk to him
“Will Roscoe be joining us?” you ask. “About that, I will be flying with Valtteri and will drop him to Nice before flying to NYC. I was thinking about spending a little more time with Roscoe before dropping him off to you. Is it okay if Valtteri drops him by your place later on?”
“Oh no problem, give him my number so that he can text me once you are in Nice.”
“Great!”
“Lewis I really gotta get going, I have to pack my things back at the hotel before leaving.”
“Of course. I’ll see you in Miami. Take good care of Roscoe.”
“I will” you tell him and you wave him goodbye. After that you leave the track alone since Toto is still busy at the track. You go back to your suite and pack your things and with 45 minutes still left you take your phone and ring Toto. “Are you in your room?” you ask. “No, still at the track.” he says and you reply slightly surprised “Wait, what are you still doing on track?”
“I am having a discussion with Stefano about technical directives and he can’t stop talking.”
“Are you sure you’re going to make it? Are your stuff packed?”
“No they are not, I thought I would have enough time to do it now but he thinks we are having a meeting.”
“Why don’t you tell him that you have to catch your flight?”
“Because he will propose that we fly together” he answers “I keep checking my watch but he doesn’t get the message”
“Oh then try to get out of this discussion asap.”
“Will do. See you in a while” he says and he hangs up. You check your bag and you find Toto’s suite card so you decide to go to his suite and pack his suitcase. You take everything off the closet and start folding them and placing them in his carry on, take his shoes as well as his stuff from the bathroom and place them in the suitcase. Lastly you take all of the chargers and laptops and stuff them into his bag. You take a seat on his couch now both of your suitcases fully packed and ready to go but he’s nowhere to be found. 20 minutes before the time that you have to be in the airport your phone rings and his name pops up on the screen. You accept the call. “Hey” you say. You “We are not going to make it on time. I only just got to the hotel.” he says and you hear footsteps outside his door. “And? We still have 20 minutes.”
“Everything is unpacked. We are going to be late.” he replies and the door opens. He sees you sitting on the couch and ends the call. He walks in the hallway with a confused expression“What are you doing here?” he says and you point at the suitcase and bag left in the middle of the living room area. “I packed.” you tell him and you smile. At this very moment you see a very anxious but happy Toto walking towards you and placing a kiss on your head. “Thank you” he says. “I had time to kill, a spare key card and I figured you might be late so I thought why not. I hope that I packed them in the right way. Oh and make sure that I got everything.”
“It’s perfect, thanks.” he says and he takes a look around the suite, looking for things he might have forgotten. Five minutes later you are ready to go, you leave the hotel, you drive to the airport and get there 10 minutes late but still the jet is ready to go. You board, take the seat opposite to Toto and get as comfortable as you can, he takes a book out of his bag and places it on the table in front of you. You take off from Baku and you start feeling slightly worn out. “Sleepy?” he asks. “Is that so obvious?”
“Yes.”
“It’s just that races wear me out so much. In Red Bull it was easier but now I literally spent twice as much energy because of the whole hiding thing.”
“I get what you mean, I can’t get through it without a cup or two of coffee”
“It is funny because the race is during the afternoon but it still drains me”
“You should sleep.” he tells you. “I won’t.” you tell him and he hums “So, tell me about the technical directives you were discussing with Stefano.” Toto starts explaining what he and Domenicalli were discussing along with some other team principals and you try really hard to follow what he was telling you. You were asking him questions but you felt your eyes burning “I will just close my eyes because they hurt but I will keep listening.” you tell him. “Sure” he says and he laughs. “Hey, I won’t sleep.” and he teases you “I bet you won’t.”. You close your eyes and you follow Toto’s voice, keep asking him questions and discussing until you are less and less conscious and fall completely asleep. Almost 4 hours after, you wake up, feeling the plane descending into lower altitudes. You feel surprisingly warm and open your eyes only to see Toto’s jacket all over you. You slept through the whole flight. You move slightly and Toto, who is sitting just opposite to you reading his book lifts his eyes from the book to you.“Glad to see you didn’t sleep.” he tells you “Hey, don’t make fun of me!”
“I love it when you know you are not right and still try to convince others that you are.” You roll your eyes at his comment and take a look outside the window. “Where are we?”
“Almost in Nice, we will be landing in 20”
“Cool. I can’t wait to sleep in my bed.”
“You’re not coming over?”
“No, I’ve had enough of you during the past days.”
“Right.”
“How’s your book?” you ask. “It is good.” Toto says
“I’ll read it after you.”
“I’ll be happy to lend it to you.”
“Oh and if I like it I will need access to that Wolff Reading List.”
“I don’t have a reading list.”
“Oh god what?”
“It is not a competition Horner, I read for my pleasure.”
“So do I but I have a reading list. I read reviews and I sometimes write them anonymously.”
“Well, I don’t give a shit about reviews, I read the synopsis and if I find it interesting I read it. I am sure some of my favorite books have the shittiest reviews but I don’t care.” he says. “Wow, you are stronger than I am. If a review isn’t good I won’t even start the book.”
“That’s some of the shit people of your generation do”
“Oh yes I keep forgetting that you are a boomer.” you joke “We are not going to discuss this again.” he says in a strict tone “Okay sir.” you mock him. “Fuck off, go back to sleep.” he says and he turns back to his book. “Thanks for the blanket by the way.” you say but he gives you no answer and you laugh. “Are you going to drive me back to Monaco?” you ask. “No you should call Marc” he says. “I hate you Wolff.” you tell him. “I hate you too.” he laughs. A short time after you land in Nice and contrary to what he said earlier, Toto orders for all of your baggage to be loaded to his car. You take the drive back to Monaco while discussing paddock gossip which Toto repeats isn’t a thing he does but he happily participates in the whole discourse. Half an hour later you arrive at home, Toto parks the car in the garage and you get your bags out of the car and take the lift to your apartment. You hug him goodbye and go to your apartment where you instantly unpack and get comfortable and sit in your bedroom where you binge watch gossip girl until it is late enough and Valtteri is calling you to drop Roscoe off. You text him your details and 5 minutes later he’s knocking your door. “Hi Valtteri.” you greet him. “Hi” he says shyly, holding Roscoe’s leash on his one hand and a bag with Roscoe’s food and toys
“Lewis told me to drop those off. Including Roscoe.”
“I will be taking care of him while Lewis is in New York For the Met Gala.”
“Oh yeah, I would take care of him but Tif and I have to go to a bike competition in France”
“Don’t worry, I will take care of him instead. Good to see you, did you have a nice flight?”
“Yes, it was pretty decent, you know how it is when traveling in private.”
“Yeah definitely.” you tell him. “We missed you in F1, when are you coming back?” he says and for a moment you freeze before you register that you supposingly weren’t in Baku this weekend. “I missed you guys too. I don’t know when I am coming back yet, I am still adapting to my new life here in Monaco.”
“You are right, we will be happy to see you back.”
“Thank you for dropping Roscoe off for me”
“You’re welcome.”
“Good luck for your competition.”
“Thanks, goodnight!” Valtteri says and leaves you with Roscoe.
Roscoe gets in and moves around the apartment trying to get used to it. You play a bit with him but at some point you are too tired and get to bed where Roscoe joins you and curls next to your feet and falls asleep. You do the same for the night. The next day you wake up in your new home, register the fact that now you have to take care of Roscoe. You take him out for his morning walk and you go back home where you decide to text Sara once again.
You
I am back in Monaco. Are you up for some coffee?
Sara
Oh welcome back! Of course I am up for coffee. Your place or mine?
You
Cafe de Paris in an hour?
Sara
Omg sounds perfect. Gotta go get ready.
You
I will be bringing Roscoe over too
Sara
God I love this dog. Of course bring him over, the dog is a socialite
You shut your phone and start getting ready, dressing up appropriately for the Cafe de Paris. You feed Roscoe and get him ready and after an hour you are sitting in Cafe de Paris with Sara. You both enjoy your drinks while the bulldog is sitting by your side and you keep gossiping about people you know. Sara spills her work gossip and you keep discussing different bullshit. Time goes by and both of you get hungry so you propose cooking dinner at your place. You and Sara get back home and you start cooking a risotto while she drinks wine and you tell her all the paddock gossip. “So turns out Christian hired that bitch who was hooking up with Toto.”
“He did what?”
“Yeah, he hired her during my first week off the team.”
“Oh my gosh. I might sound a bit harsh but don’t you think that your dad is a bit problematic?” Sara asks “I’ve been thinking that since I officially joined the team, S. I just don’t understand his logic” you say and you hear your phone ringing. When you check you see Christian’s face popping up.“Speak of the devil”.
“Hey dad” you say
“What are you doing?”
“I’m good you?”
“No, I mean, what are you doing outside with Hamilton’s dog?”
“Oh Roscoe? Lewis is flying to the Met Gala and he wants someone to take care of his dog.”
“And you suddenly became best friends with Hamilton that he trusts you with his dog? You have the audacity to walk him in Monaco’s most crowded places? There are pictures all over the internet.”
“I think you are overreacting.” you tell him
“How did the dog end up in your hands? Were you in Baku yesterday?”
“What the fuck dad? I was in Monaco, I had Valtteri drop him off.”
“Are you teaming up with them? Do you think it’s going to make me change my mind and take you back?”
“Look, I have a risotto cooking up on my stove and I do not plan on burning this place down, so let me get it straight for you. I am just taking care of a dog that for some reason triggers you in a way that nothing ever has. I am doing a favor to a friend. Nothing to piss you off. I don’t know why you think everyone is constantly plotting against you but the reality is that we are not. Take a chill pill and get used to seeing pictures of me with Roscoe until Lewis takes him back. And for fuck’s shake, let me live my life.” you say and you turn off the call. “What was that about?” Sara asks. “There are pictures of us and Roscoe from today and Christian was pissed because of a freaking dog.”
“Oh then you were right to speak to him like that”
“Thanks” you say. As soon as the food is ready you and Sara enjoy your lunch at your balcony with a sea view and after a couple of hours she leaves you alone. You clean up the kitchen, do the dishes and get changed to a tracksuit and a pair of sneakers for Roscoe’s night walk. You enjoy a walk along the coast of Monte Carlo and later on you come back to your building. To your surprise you see Toto just outside, dressed in a suit while waiting for his car. “Hi” you tell him. “Hello. Out for a walk I see?” he asks. “Yes, Roscoe needed his night walk.” you say as Roscoe approaches him. Toto instantly takes two steps backwards looking at the bulldog “Where are you off to?” you ask. “I’m going to a business meeting.” you are interested about his day “With a sponsor ?” and he replies giving you all the information you ask for “No, it’s for one of my finance jobs.”
“I see.” you say and you spot someone with a phone pointing to you two “We are being videotaped”
“It’s been a while since we’ve last seen you in the paddock miss Horner” he says “Oh yeah, I’ve been having some time off that’s why.”
“I’ve heard the rumors, met your substitute as well. When do you think you’re coming back ?”
“I haven’t decided yet, I am still recharging to be honest.”
“Good thing to do. Take your time”
“Thank you Mr. Wolff, take care.” you tell him and leave him to go back to your apartment. You take Roscoe off his leash and he slowly walks to his bed where he falls asleep. You lay on your couch and check your socials. It’s the first Monday of May and your timelines have already been flooded with Met Gala content, from the setting of the red carpet to some of the celebrities and acquaintances getting ready for the event. You promised Lewis that you will stay awake to see him on the red carpet and for this reason you decide to take a nap. It’s not that late but since you have to wait for Lewis until later that night you chose to kill some time this way so you drift off to a sweet nap. In the middle of your sleep you hear the doorbell ringing and you walk half asleep to the door where you check through the peephole to see who it is and you see the one tall austrian outside your door dressed with the same clothes as earlier. You open the door and you let him in.“What are you doing here?” you tell him, voice sounding a bit hoarse so Toto gets the hint. “Have you been sleeping? Did I wake you up?” he asks a little worried, “Ummm, you kinda did” you tell him, “Oh sorry, I should go then, let you rest.”
“I was going to wake up anyway. I promised Lewis I will watch him on the red carpet today.” you tell him and he asks “What is it today?”. You laugh with his ignorance “Oh god we are never going to get an invite if you keep asking those questions.”
“Why do we need an invitation for this?”
“It’s one of the most exciting nights of the year Toto, the Met Gala, every relatable celebrity dresses up in custom designer pieces that match to a theme and they have a dinner or something.”
“Prom for rich people?”
“Kinda. I am surprised you aren’t aware of it, since Lewis has been going during the past 3-4 years if I’m not mistaken.”
“Pop culture isn’t my thing.” he says while he takes off his jacket and hangs it on a chair nearby. “I can see it” you reply. Toto joins you on the couch, he sits on the side, takes off his shoes and unbuttons the top button of his shirt. You grab your computer and sit close to him. You open the TV and you play the Vogue Livestream of the event while Toto sits bored next to you switching his gaze from the television to the ceiling, to your laptop, to you and then back to the television. As you are watching the event, Toto stands up and takes a look at your bookshelf and he picks a book which he starts reading while you are too busy waiting for Lewis. Toto speed reads the book as you text Lewis asking him to let you know when he will be joining the red carpet. At some point you distinctively hear Roscoe’s paws on the floor as he runs to the living room. He sits just below your feet which you have laid on the coffee table while Toto is laying on the long side of the couch. Roscoe takes a look at you and then at Toto, both of you too far absorbed to be paying attention to him and for this reason the poor dog decides to make you pay attention to him. Roscoe starts barking and in a fraction of a second, Toto slams his book close and starts backing up and climbing on the back of the couch. When you notice him you burst out laughing. You should have been aware that Toto is afraid of Roscoe, that’s why he was skeptical about having the dog in the same place as him during a transatlantic flight. It seems so hilarious to you that a grown ass man such as Toto is afraid of an old bulldog, mainly because Toto is who he is. The intimidating boss, the scary rival. You immediately grab your phone and start recording. “Lewis, I know you’re in line for the red carpet and you probably won’t see this until tomorrow but you have to see this.” you say as you record yourself and then turn the rear camera on. “I don’t know if you are aware of it but it seems like Mr. Wolff here is afraid of your dog.” you say as you see Toto on the back of the couch and Roscoe staring at him. “Hey! It’s not funny, please get him to leave!” he says and just as he completes his sentence Roscoe continues barking at him, Toto’s expression is essentially pure panic at this point but you continue laughing. You know Roscoe just wants to play with him but he is not very much aware of it. “Please just stop recording and get him out of here” he says again, you are still recording. “He’s not going to hurt you” you tell him, “You don’t know it” Toto replies. “Okay Lew, I have to take care of this, we are still waiting for you here” you say and you show the Vogue Livestream on your TV “Have fun!” you say and you stop recording, sending the video to Lewis. After that you leave your phone down, you grab Roscoe and bring him by your side, far from Toto, who seems like he lost 5 years of his life. The dog lays on the couch as you rub his belly and he seems happy. “See, that’s what he wanted. Just a bit of attention and love.” you tell him “Well, if he wanted that he shouldn't have barked at me. I was scared to death”
“Toto Wolff is afraid of dogs.” you say “I am. You cannot imagine how many times I’ve managed to avoid any interaction with this dog during the past 8 years.”
“I was just wondering how Lewis didn’t have any idea of this.”
“Oh, did you send the video? Did I make a fool of myself on Lewis as well?”
“No, that’s not making a fool of yourself, that’s adorable”
“Until Lewis posts it on his socials”
“He won’t” you say
“You don’t know Lewis, he loves making fun of me every chance he gets”
“I mean sometimes you’re hilarious so he’s right, you shouldn’t be angry.” you tell him
“Most of the time I’m not actually angry, I am just acting like I am to make him feel bad”
“You are crazy” you tell him and you turn to catch a glimpse of the screen when you see Lewis coming up the red carpet. “Oh there he goes!” you say and Toto turns his attention to the screen and so does Roscoe once he realizes that his dad is on the tv. “That’s a daring outfit.” Toto comments as he watches Lewis posing on the red carpet. “Oh you suddenly have an opinion on fashion?”
“Why shouldn’t I? You think you’re the only one with a fashion sense?”
“Darling, at least I have more than 3 outfits in my wardrobe” you tell him and he rolls his eyes. He knows you’re right but he still focuses on the television. You see Roscoe staring at the screen and you snap a photo which you post on your instagram stories right after lewis leaves the red carpet. “Did we just sit here to watch Lewis pose on the red carpet for 3 minutes?”
“No, I am hoping he will be back for an interview shortly after.” you say and he nods, going back to the last page of the book he was reading and 5 minutes later Lewis comes on the screen again and both of you watch the interview ss
“You’re an expert on this aren’t you?” he asks “I have been watching for the past 10 years, Toto. Plus, they do love Lewis a lot, it was almost certain that they would give him the interview.”
“They do seem to have a preference for Lewis though.” he says
“The truth is, as much as Max is supposedly my friend, he’s not that relevant out of our little world.”
“How can you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Hang out with him”
“Look, he isn’t as much of a dick as he seems, he’s actually a pretty decent company and he’s a kind soul but only if you are close to him and that’s why he comes off as an asshole to everyone else.” you say and you yawn. “Sleepy?” he asks
“Yeah, I am starting to get tired. Are you going to stay?”
“I would but Roscoe will be here.”
“He can sleep in the guest room, please stay?”
“I will, although I have a meeting tomorrow morning. I’ll just wake up early.”
“Okay” you tell him and you stand up taking Roscoe in your arms “Wanna pet him?” you ask. “Only because you’re holding him” he says as he pets Roscoe who’s now sleepy. You leave your living room and head towards the guest room where you leave the dog, closing the door behind you. By the time you are out the door you see that the living room is already empty and you head to your room where Toto is already laying in your bed. You change into your pajamas and climb in your bed where you fall asleep. The next day you wake up and as Toto said, he has already left for his meeting. You check your phone and you see several texts, the first one from Toto reads a simple Text me when you wake up. The second one is from Marc, saying Parties ahead of the Cannes film festival are just starting, thought it would be nice for us to be seen together, to silence people about our whereabouts. Only as friends though. Accommodation in my yacht. Tristan will be here, bring Sara as well. RSVP. You give it a thought, thinking about how Christian made a scene about Roscoe, and how he asked you where you were. You text Toto first, to make sure it won’t be a problem.
Woke up just fine although i would have liked you to be here and not in that stupid meeting of yours. Also, Marc just sent me an invitation about a party tomorrow and I think maybe I should go, do some pr job, give people something to talk about
Toto
You should go just don’t get too wild
You
I won’t,besides Sara will be probably coming as well.But the thing is it will be in Cannes, but I’ll make sure to be back to Nice on time for the flight
Toto
No problem
You leave your phone on dnd and continue your tasks for the day, doing some light cleaning on your apartment when the doorbell rings. You open the door and you find a donut and a cup left on your doormat, the cup has a note on "Sorry for not being here for breakfast, consider this as my not so homemade breakfast." You smile and shut the door, immediately texting Sara, inviting her over for coffee and gossip. Once she comes over you share the news on the party for which she agrees immediately and she proposes a shopping spree for the party. You agree with her and shortly after you are off to the shops where you try on different outfits, occasionally texting Toto for his opinion on some of the outfits. At the end of the day, Sara ends up with 4 or 5 bags from the shops and you buy one simple black dress from Sandro to wear for the event. You grab a drink at the Blue Gin and you head back home where you pack your bags both for the party at Cannes and for the trip to Miami. Before you get back to bed you receive a text from Marc.
Marc Taylor
I will be waiting for you tomorrow morning for our trip to Cannes
You
Where will we find you?
Marc Taylor
At the marina, we will be using my yacht obviously
You
We will be there @ 10:30. Should we bring coffee?
Marc Taylor
We have a barista on board. Just get your bags.
The next day you wake up, dressing up with a maxi sundress suitable for the yacht trip. You later meet Sara and her driver drops you off at the Monaco marina, right outside Marc’s yacht. You get on board as members of Marc’s staff get your bags on the yacht and into your rooms. You follow Marc straight ahead and join him and Tristan on the deck. You can see people with cameras taking pictures of you from the marina and you play along. You do want paparazzi to see where you are and who you are with, you are confident that they will be running the story before the party today. You greet Tristan and walk the deck, taking the sun in and gazing into the mediterranean. Sara snaps some pictures of you and then the yacht leaves Monaco and sails to Cannes. “What time does the party start?” you ask,"At 8 I believe.” Tristan replies, “We have to start getting ready as soon as we arrive there” Sara tells you
“We will arrive in Cannes in an hour, you will be needing 6 hours to get ready?”
“Haven’t you met Horner? She takes at least two hours to get ready for a day at the paddock, you think she will be getting ready in sooner than 5 hours for a party in Cannes?” Sara answers and you laugh. As you sail to Cannes, the four of you sit on the deck sipping champagne and gossiping about old acquaintances of yours until one hour later you arrive and you dock at the marina. Tristan and Marc go out for a walk and you and Sara stay on board to relax and get settled to your rooms. You leave Sara in her cabin and you relax outside on the deck. You snap a photo and post it on your stories and then start reading your book until you start getting ready, while listening to music. Tristan and Marc come an hour later and Tristan waves at you. You take your headphones off. “There’s someone that has a package for you outside”
“What package?”
“It’s an order from a fashion brand I think. They said you made the order from Monaco and sent it here”
“Oh yeah that” you say “Marc can you please get this for me?”
“Of course” Marc replies and leaves you behind with Tristan. “What are you reading?” he asks, “The Goldfinch” you tell him.
“Oh I heard it’s nice.”
“It is really good, I’ll give it to you when I finish it”
“Great! Um, by the way, have you seen Sara?”
“She’s in her cabin, probably planning today’s look. She doesn’t wake up looking as good as you see her.”
“Bet she looks even better when she wakes up” Tristan says and you burst out laughing.“You really like her don’t you?” you ask
“I do. Not as much as Marc likes you though.”
“Tristan, Marc and I have already discussed this.”
“You know he’s still trying though” he tells you but he stops talking as he sees Marc coming up to the yacht. “This is your package Miss.” says Marc and kneels in front of you showing you the box.“Thank you mr. Taylor” you tell him “I gotta go try it on and plan my look for today, see ya later losers.”. You walk away from Marc and Tristan and into your cabin where you untie the black bow on top of the box and open it to reveal a green silk dress and in the box, a black handwritten card, a handwriting you recognize."Yesterday night I was watching Succession, saw this dress on Shiv and thought it would look nice on you. Bis Bald.". You smile in disbelief and try the dress on and you manage to fish out your emerald Manolo shoes which perfectly fit the color of the dress. You decide to wear this to the party instead of your new bought Sandro dress and you undress since lunch is about to be served. After your meal you return to your room, and start getting ready. You take a shower, use a face mask and then fix your hair in a low bun chignon. You apply some light makeup and some jewelry for the party. When you get out of your cabin you see Marc and Tristan in their party suits. “Wow Horner” says Tristan but Marc just sits there staring at you. “We should try to snap some pictures until Sara is ready” he says again and pushes both you and Marc at the front of the yacht where he takes pictures of you both with your phone and your polaroid camera but his phone rings so Marc becomes your photographer for the moment. “You look stunning, the color is amazing.”
“Thanks” you say and you keep posing.
When the whole photoshoot is done you check your pictures and decide to post one of them on your story but first you want to check that everything is okay from Toto’s side
You
[Sent 2 photos]
Your wish is my command. The dress is perfect. Tristan and Marc were stunned
Wolff
I knew as soon as I saw it that it would be a perfect fit. Glad they liked it. Hope Marc keeps his hands to himself though
You
He will! About that, is it okay if I post the picture of me and him ?
Wolff
Everyone is going to talk about you two being a couple so why not feed the story to them? It’s okay by me after all ,at the end of the day only I know that you will be sleeping in my bed for the weekend
20 minutes later Tristan is already yelling at Sara to hurry up and when she does show up at the deck she sees you and stares at you. “Horner!????? What are you wearing?” she asks “You look stunning but bestie this wasn’t the plan was it?” You approach her and you whisper to her ear “It was a surprise gift I couldn’t say no to”. She scoffs. “And he won’t even bring me flowers” she says as she points at Tristan. A couple of photos later the four of you are off to the party. At the party there are a lot more photos, dancing, drinking, mingling and socializing. Everyone is enjoying the wonderful night including Sara, Marc and Tristan. You get lost in a discussion with some movie producer who happens to be at the party and at some point you see Marc approaching you along with a blonde woman, which you happen to know. “Horner!” Marc says as you greet the producer “Marc, I lost you an hour ago, where were you?”
“With this badass. I am not sure you’ve two met but, this is Francesca Scorcese”
“Taylor, I’ve met Horner before. You always forget nepo babies always know each other”
“Absolutely” you say “What have you been up to since I last saw you?” you ask. The three of you start discussing and later on partying. Late at night the party starts drifting off and your quartet returns happily to the yacht. You gather all the pictures from today, making sure there’s enough you and Marc on them so that people will start believing that you are in a relationship. You post them on your instagram captioning them as “What were your favorite nepo babies up to ?” and you shut your phone before falling asleep. The next morning you wake up and make sure everything is packed. Sara’s sister who happens to have a job in Nice and was taking care of Roscoe in the meantime comes and picks you up from Cannes and drives you to the airport where you finally meet Toto. “Morning!” you tell him and give him a little hug. You are already in incognito mode so you’re making sure no one is watching you. “Hello. How was your party night?”
“We had a lot of fun actually. You know how our events are? Not even close to that”
“At least on those events we get to be at the same place.”
“But as long as I can remember the only thing we’ve managed to do was fight” you tell him “Thanks for the dress again. Everyone was impressed”
“That is for you telling me that I don’t have any fashion sense.” he teases you “Mr Wolff, it is time to board.” the lady at the gate says. You take your stuff, carrying Roscoe in his cage as well and you board the jet. You get comfortable and get Roscoe out of his cage but you hold him on your lap, making sure that he won’t get close to Toto. The plane takes off and you drift off to sleep as the lack of sleep from your party night becomes apparent. After 3 hours you open your eyes and look out the window as you are flying mid Atlantic. It takes a minute before you realize that Roscoe isn’t on your lap anymore and you take a glance around you and you see the bulldog sleeping on Toto’s lap. You laugh at the sight, thinking how some days before Toto was afraid to death and how now he peacefully sleeps with him. You snap two or three photos and send one of them to Lewis.
You
[Photo]
Character growth! We are on our way to Miami. See you there
Lewis Hamilton
That is insane. Ah man, can’t wait to tease Toto for all of this. Thanks for the content, Horner. See you at the track!
Shortly after you drift back to sleep and you only wake up when you feel the ground below you shaking. You open your eyes and look out of the window again to see the airport of Miami. You don’t register that you have finally arrived until you hear “Miss Horner, Mister Wolff, Welcome to Miami”. Toto looks around and tells you “Let’s see what this race week brings us” and you nod, mentally preparing yourself for another week at the F1 circus.
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On Sight - Part 3 (Jey Uso/OC)
The fact that we hate each other don’t mean we can’t fuck. Just don’t fall in love with me. Part 3 of my 4-part Jey Uso/OC series.
Warnings: The usual smut, toxic behavior, angst
Word count: 6.5k
A/N: I had to split it, so now it’s four parts. I wasn’t comfortable that it was so damn long lol.
ON SIGHT MASTERLIST
------------------------
PART 3 - BOTH?
A tired sigh left your lips as you disabled the comments on your Instagram page. Another day, another disrespectful internet troll trying to fuck up your mood.
The past couple of weeks were some of the worst you’d encountered in recent memory. Barely eighteen months since you joined WWE and you had already fallen prey to the vulturous dirt sheets and backstage drama. Your co-workers were now under the false assumption that you were in a love triangle with Jey Uso and Cody Rhodes. After the airport pictures were leaked, you and Jey trended on Twitter for twenty-four hours, as fans had a lot to say about what they believed was a new wrestling romance. You refused interviews, shut off your comments and mentions on all your platforms, and under ‘advisement’ from Hunter and management, you stayed off TV for a couple of weeks until the whole thing blew over. But now that you were home alone and not traveling, your mind was forced to return to what happened that day.
Return to the one person you had no business thinking about.
You did not miss Jey Uso. He did not deserve a second of your attention. Which is why you ignored all his phone calls and text messages, only stopping short of blocking his number. He did not deserve an ounce of your emotions. Even though you cried over him more times than you cared to admit. Even though you couldn’t get all those nights…and mornings…and afternoons…of passion, out of your head. He did not deserve any of your headspace. And yet, all you could think about was those chocolate brown eyes of his that pierced your soul…Eyes that now haunted your dreams…Eyes that were filled with rage just weeks ago. In all the times you got on each other's nerves, you had never seen him like that, and you weren’t sure you wanted any part of it.
The irony was, you had no intention of fraternizing with the talent when you joined the WWE. Workplace dalliances often went up in smoke. But there was something about Jey fucking Uso that you just could not seem to resist. Your mind kept saying no, even resorted to name-calling and bickering to repel him. But once your body gave in, there was no going back. Then, your heart followed. Thinking all would be well, you carried on like a naïve little girl, only to end up getting embarrassed. And it hurt like hell.
Your phone vibrated, and your partner in crime, Kayla Braxton’s happy face flashed at you, reminding you about attending Beyoncé’s show later tonight. How could you forget about the hottest tour in town? You all bought VIP access tickets months ago and there was no way you were going to miss it. Your hair appointment was in an hour and a custom-made outfit would soon be at your doorstep. You planned on looking your very best tonight; after all, you never know who would meet at a place like that…
Long story short, you were moving on. You were becoming the main character again, living your best life and damning all negativity to hell. Because you were that bitch. Simple as.
Fuck Jey Uso.
-----------------
If Jey thought you didn’t have that many fans before, he found out the hard way that it was the exact opposite.
Your fanboys were coming for his head. The nicer comments were “It should’ve been me!” and the more caustic ones were not very PG. Only God knows how they would have reacted if they found out how the breakup went down; he’d be fucked six ways to Sunday.
The Tag team champion groaned, squeezing his eyes shut and regretting it instantly - because every time he did, your face was all he saw anymore. His brain seemed to enjoy tormenting him with memories of the mess he made that day. He could still smell the roses he’d bought for you. He could see you in that room, Cody’s lips pressed against yours...
...The tears in your eyes as he screamed at you…the pain in your voice as you screamed back…
He knew he fucked up. He said some terrible things he wished he could take back. But now he couldn’t go through a day without being asked about you and when he started dating you. Hilarious, as you weren’t even speaking to him. He glanced at his phone again to see if you’d finally replied to at least one of his numerous calls and texts. Of course not. You ignored every single one of them. You avoided him and refused to be anywhere near him. As much as he deserved your wrath, it was starting to get to him.
Scrolling through his Instagram, he noticed Liv Morgan’s recent IG story placed her at Beyoncé’s concert. Most of the Smackdown female roster were with her, yourself included. He knew you loved Beyoncé, so undoubtedly you were having a great time. Your hair was beautiful, and you looked hot as hell in that jumpsuit…
Fuck.
He thought this shit only happened in movies; the whole enemies-to-lovers schtick, catching feelings only for something stupid to happen and ruin the connection you were building. Well, it was happening in real life and happening to him, and honestly? It sucked.
His matches also suffered a drop in quality. By all standards they were still okay; he was still executing all his moves right and his mannerisms were adequate. But it wasn’t the same. Because he was missing you. Without you around anymore, he was useless. He'd become so used to being with you that your absence opened up a void that he felt could not be filled.
His boys were starting to notice and were losing patience with him.
“Dude, get your shit together,” Roman admonished him one evening in their locker room as they prepared for their tag match for the Smackdown main event.
“Chill. I’m just in a funk, that’s all,” he explained lamely, acutely aware that his older cousin would see right through his excuse.
“Not our fault that you fumbled Y/N. Don’t mean you should take it out on your performances and make the rest of us look bad.”
“Stop being an asshole, Roman,” Jimmy said as he taped his fingers, then turned his attention to Jey. “I’m still shook over the fact that you were sleeping with her all this time and I had no idea,” he said to Jey. “And why you tell Big Uce before me? Huh bro?”
“He never told me. I found ‘em fucking in our locker room,” Roman clarified.
Jimmy gaped at his brother with wide eyes. “Yooooo, what?! When was this? Damn, you nasty as hell, twin!”
“Fuck off, you and Trin done fucked in worse places,” Jey countered. “It was a long time ago, bruh. Now she won’t even look at me.”
“What d’you expect?” Roman continued. “What did you think would happen after what you did? And on top of those photos getting out? Yeah, you didn’t stand a chance. Own that shit, dude. You fucked up.”
Jey exhaled heavily. “Thanks man, way to make me feel like shit.”
“He is right, uce. That’s a bad bitch you let slip away,” said Jimmy.
Jey gaped at his brother and cousin, lifting his arms in exasperation. “Yo, ain’t you supposed to be on my side?”
“Yeah, but I like her a lot.” Jimmy elaborated. “She’s cool and sassy as hell. Now that I think about it, she was good for you. She kept you on your toes, and you were much happier, Uce. I saw it, and now that I know she was the reason, you need to figure out how to get her back, asap.”
Right. That was not happening anytime soon, not if you had anything to say about it.
The Bloodline’s match was against the team of Cody Rhodes and the Street Profits. Jey did his best to remain professional, but one look at the American Nightmare had his blood boiling. Once they locked up in the ring, his punches got stiffer, his move set became more aggressive. At one point, Jey wrapped his forearm around Cody’s windpipe a little too tightly in an illegal rear naked choke. In retaliation, Cody elbowed him square in the face, causing blood to spurt from his nose. It was all downhill from there, and they barely made it to the end of the match in one piece.
Backstage, a big melee erupted as Jimmy and Solo had to forcibly restrain their brother from attacking the American Nightmare. “You motherfucker! You broke my fuckin’ nose!” he yelled.
“And you beat the shit outta me and almost choked me out, so we’re even, motherfucker!” Cody shot back over Roman’s shoulder. “You got your receipt now. Are you happy? Huh? Are you satisfied?”
“No. Next time keep your hands off my girl!” Jey snarled.
Cody snorted. “Your girl, huh? You say she’s your girl, yet you had no problem disrespecting her and embarrassing her in public.”
“Aye, shut your fucking mouth!” Jey barked, incensed. In his peripheral vision, he could see you standing among the gathering crowd a few feet away, flanked by Kayla and Samantha. The other two women were looking at him like they wanted to beat his ass. In contrast, your expression was blank. Unreadable. He wished he knew what you were thinking.
“Did I lie? We all saw you, insulting her, calling her names over something that wasn’t even her fault!” Cody went on, “So since you wanna air this shit out again, fine. It was me. I put her in a position she didn’t wanna be in, and I regret it and I’ve apologized. But you’re a dumbass for treating her like that.”
The Tag team champ visibly bristled. It was one thing to hear from his family that he fucked up. It was a whole ‘nother thing to hear it from his opp. Both were rather humbling experiences, not that he would admit that shit to anyone.
Cody picked up his ring jacket and threw it over his shoulder, his ire still trained on Jey. “Now that we got all the aggression out of the way, I strongly suggest that you get on your hands and knees and beg for her forgiveness. That’s a beautiful, smart, gem of a woman you’re taking for granted, and she obviously cares about you, which is a whole lot less than your bitch ass deserves.” With that, he walked away, having made his point loud and clear.
Jey twisted out of his brothers’ grasp, his teeth bared in an agitated sneer. When he glanced in your direction again, you were gone.
----------------------
You fixed what you hoped was an attentive look on your face while pretending to listen to Bobby Lashley talk. He was a nice guy, but he just wasn't…interesting. You’d been talking to him for most of the night and you were bored, despite the fun, albeit pounding, music booming through the club. The sooner you got out of here, the better, because the mannerisms and suggestive twinkle in his eyes told you he was expecting sex later tonight. Such a pity…he looked like he was good in bed, but it was painfully obvious that you didn't have much in common. Maybe you should start dating non-wrestlers again.
A chill swept through your spine out of nowhere. The hair on the back of your neck stood up as you sensed a new presence among the cluster of people already in the VIP section. Something pushed you to direct your gaze towards the entrance, and you did.
Jey.
Despite yourself, desire flushed through you as you watched him make his way into the room. As though feeling the heat of your stare, he looked in your direction and your eyes locked. Even from a distance, the sparks flew between you, sharp and explosive over the dimmed lights of the large room. You saw his gaze flicker between you and Bobby, a maelstrom of emotions swimming in his narrowed eyes.
Diamond came up behind him, looping her arm around his.
You felt your heart drop, and the pang of jealousy grew inside you like a weed. Of course. Why were you not surprised?
Bobby calling your name finally broke the hypnosis. Tearing your gaze away, you cleared your throat and reached for your drink.
"We can leave if that’ll make you more comfortable,” Bobby offered, his tone sympathetic.
Adamantly, you shook your head. “Why? We’re staying right here.”
“So, he your ex now or somethin’?” Bobby inquired, his eyes on you as he sipped his cocktail.
“He’s nothing to me,” you answered, a bit too harshly. “Let’s talk about something else, please.” You plastered a smile on your face, exponentially more interested in Bobby Lashley than you’d ever been.
The drinks kept flowing, to your delight. When a waiter placed four tequila shots on your table, you snatched one up and knocked it back with ease, followed by a second. Looking over to where Jey was seated, you saw him take a swig of Hennessy straight from the bottle. Diamond was on his lap, grinding all up on him. Releasing a deep breath, you cleared your throat, annoyed. The longer you sat there, the angrier you felt, and the more alcohol you consumed. Glancing back at him one more time, you gulped down the rest of your drink and turned to Bobby.
"Dance with me." You stood up without waiting for his answer. He followed though, and soon you were encased in a moving sea of bodies. Your arms slid around his neck, feeling his hands grab your hips, holding you against him as you moved together with the music. He then turned you around so your back was against his chest, keeping you tight to him. You tilted your head as he nuzzled your exposed neck, his breath hot on your skin.
“You’re lookin’ real sexy tonight, Y/N,” he whispered in your ear, his big hand draped dangerously over the top of your thigh.
You weren’t listening. You had caught Jey’s eyes again, and he looked like he wanted to murder somebody. Good. Fueled by alcohol and revenge, you ground your ass against Bobby’s groin, feeling his arousal, imagining it belonged to someone else. Your gaze remained on your ex, and your nipples tightened from the way he stared at you, knowing he was fully aware of his effect on you.
Done with the games, you stepped away abruptly from Bobby, swaying slightly on your heeled feet. "I don’t feel so good. I think I’m gonna head home," you informed him.
“You’ve had a lot to drink. Let me take you home,” Bobby said. His voice remained calm, but his teeth gritted with obvious sexual frustration. You saw right through it and hastened your exit.
“No need, I’ll just call an Uber. Don’t let me ruin your evening.” You turned and left without letting him answer. You felt bad that you did him like that, but you just had to get the fuck out of there.
The fresh air afforded you some relief as you waited for your Uber. It cleared your head a little bit, but then all the thoughts rushing in were on him. You hated that he still felt like home to you. It still felt like he was yours. Those feelings angered you because it was not true, and you knew you were being stupid, pathetic and weak. You knew if he’d fucked you over once, he’d do it again. You weren’t a child. You knew the games of the assholes of the world, and you couldn’t believe you’d given in to one, that all you had to show for it were the shattered pieces of your heart.
You really wished you could forget about Jey. You did. All you wanted was for the pain in your heart to subside, but he’d made such an imprint on you. It didn’t help that you were in l-
As soon as the thought emerged, you jammed your hands over your ears, as though this could somehow block out the mental reverberations of your emotions. No! Stop it! You’re not! Not with that prick-
“There she is. The queen ho herself.”
You heard her before you saw her. Diamond. With her hands on her hips, in a dress one size too small for her, adopting a smug, triumphant air as though she had finally won the prize she’d been chasing for a long time. “Nice to see you, girl,” she said, a fake ass smile stretching her face. “I see you been real busy sleeping your way to the top. So, not only did you fuck Jey and Cody Rhodes at the same time, you’re fucking Bobby Lashley now.” She scoffed. “Who’s the slut now, huh?"
The last thing you wanted was to entertain this bitch. But the drinks in your system made your mouth faster than your brain. “Run along, little girl. Don’t speak on things you know nothing about.” You made a shooing motion with your hand.
“Oh yeah? Well, you’re the talk of the town, sweetheart. Jey caught you having sex with Cody. You got tired of them two and now you’re with Lashley. Tell me. What’s it like getting passed around like a lit blunt?”
The fucking lies. That was what you could not stand. The dirt sheets, your nosy ass colleagues. And now this bitch. “Is that what Jey told you, or did you read that somewhere and your dumb, gullible little self swallowed it up like a sheep,” you sneered, eyeing her up and down. “Oh, I forgot…swallowing is what you do best.”
A snide laugh left Diamond’s lips. “Jey was right when he said you’re jealous. You're pressed because I got your man now. Stay mad, ho.”
You giggled at the desperation oozing from her. She really tried it. “You ain’t got shit, bitch. You’re not half the woman I am. Every time you’re fucking him, you know damn well that he’s thinking of me. Are you enjoying the taste of my pussy, sweetie? Cuz that’s all you’ll ever taste when you’re kissing him or sucking his dick.”
The self-important demeanor slipped from Diamond’s features. “Bitch, I’ma beat your drunk ass right now. You’re begging for an ass whooping, and I’ll be happy to give it to you!”
“Bring it, bitch. Drunk or not, I’ll still wipe the floor with your dusty ass wig. But my nails cost a hundred dollars and they cute as fuck. Your bitch ass is definitely not worth it. Keep enjoying my sloppy seconds though." With that, you walked away, wondering where the fuck that Uber was.
When Diamond shoved you in the back, making you almost fall over from the impact, it felt like a fever dream. By the time you turned to face her, your vision had reduced to a sea of blinding red. The backhand you hit her with was so hard your entire arm stung. She’d barely hit the ground before you lunged again, clawing at her hair, but a pair of strong hands yanked you backwards before you could inflict another blow, pulling a few tracks out of her head in the process.
“Get off me!" you shouted, flailing wildly and swinging your fists. "Get the fuck off me!"
Jey’s arms wrapped tightly around your waist as his warm breath grazed your cheek. "Hey, hey, chill," he whispered firmly into your ear, "Let it go," he added as he glanced over at Diamond being helped to her feet by some of her NXT peers. A small crowd was starting to gather outside, and Jey knew you had to leave, now. “Come on, let’s get outta here.”
“Fuck off me! Let me go, that bitch need to die!” Enraged and out for blood, you continued to struggle against him as he led you away.
“Are you gonna leave me here?!” Diamond shrieked, watching Jey depart with you in disbelief.
Ignoring her, he took you to his truck which thankfully, was nearby. He literally dragged you, kicking and screaming, into the truck, shoving you into the passenger’s side, and drove off as discreetly as possible.
He knew where you lived. He’d been to your place many times, just like you’d been to his. Though it was only a fifteen minute drive from the club, it seemed like hours as the deafening silence amplified the already suffocating tension between you.
“Why you out here fighting, huh? Whatchu doin’?” he asked, not backing down from the murderous look you shot him at his question.
“Fuck off, you ain’t my daddy!” you fired back. “You shoulda let me wash that bitch, I don’t care if she’s your girl.”
Jey sighed. “She’s not my girl.”
“Oh, really? Woulda never guessed from the way she was practically fucking you in the club.”
“I could say the same thing ‘bout you and Lashley. You were all up on him too,” he challenged.
Feeling your temper rise, you started to respond, but stopped short and shook your head instead. “Ya know what? Stop the car. Now. I’ll walk the rest of the way.”
"You ain't goin' nowhere in them high ass heels," he pointed out. "Besides, you in no shape to be alone right now. And we almost at your place anyway."
“Well hurry up cuz I’m feeling nauseous. Unless you want me to vomit right here. I’ll be more than happy to.”
The thinly-veiled threat motivated him to increase his speed limit.
When he pulled up at your house, you refused his assistance and tried to get out of the car by yourself. You barely made it a few steps out, teetering on your heels, when you stumbled on the way to your door.
"Need me to carry you?" Jey asked, knowing the answer already.
You looked at him miserably, "My head hurts."
“Where your keys at?” he asked, opening your purse to fish out your key. Unlocking the door, he picked you up bridal style and stepped through, as you wrapped your arms around him.
"You're really strong, babe. I like my men strong,” you slurred and broke into a fit of hysterical giggles.
It was going to be a long night.
In your living room, he laid you on the love seat, took off your shoes and quickly put a trash can next to you, just in case. Sitting in the arm chair across from you, he noticed you staring intently at him. "You okay? Ya need somethin’?"
"You’re sexy as fuck. Have I ever told you that?” you drawled, your smile wider than necessary as you slowly stood up.
Jey couldn’t help but blush at your compliment. "Ain’t nobody as sexy as you, princess," he replied, biting his lip as his eyes scanned your curvy frame appreciatively. Hands down the sexiest woman he’d ever laid eyes on. He ached for you, but he just couldn’t have you.
Your stance was shaky as you crossed over to him, swinging your leg over his lap to straddle him, and wound your arms around his neck. "Jey...I think I like you."
He blushed again, a little flustered by the complete 180 your behavior had taken between the car ride and now. Yes, he knew you were drunk, but he wasn’t exactly sober himself. This was suddenly a precarious situation. "I thought you hate me," he murmured against your shoulder, his hands finding your hips despite himself.
You pulled back and thought about it for a second, "Yeah, I still do. But I like you too. A lot. Maybe." Framing his bearded face in your small hands, your lips brushed softly over his nose, his cheek, his chin. “Can I kiss you? I really wanna kiss you.”
Tilting your head, you nipped his bottom lip, teasing the plump flesh with your tongue. With each press of your mouth, you added more pressure, and like butter next to heat, he melted, capturing your mouth with his, tasting the alcohol on your tongue. God, he missed kissing you. Missed your touch, missed you pressed up against him like this. But this was wrong. You were both clearly out of it, and he didn’t want you to feel like he was taking advantage of you.
Groaning pitifully, he broke the kiss and tried to push you away, acutely cognizant of your big, dilated pupils. "Princess, we shouldn't do this…Not when we both wasted."
You frowned and pouted, "We’re fiiiine. Come on, Daddy, I need you." Your lips latched onto his neck, knowing full well it was his sweet spot, rolling your ass against his crotch and feeling him harden underneath you. Your moans became throatier and sultrier, gradually stripping away the little self-control he had left. His lips crashed back over yours, his tongue moving roughly in your mouth, a fistful of your hair in his hand and your ass in the other, molding and kneading possessively. This was such a stupid idea on both your parts. But right now it was all you both wanted and consequences be damned.
You helped him peel off your short dress, tugging it over your head. His palms quickly roamed your smooth skin, stopping at your ass to squeeze the soft flesh. Then, shoving his hand inside your underwear, he flattened his palm right over the slick juncture between your legs and rubbed the wetness there, and he smiled as you moaned softly, as your skin quivered around his hand. But two could play that game. Your hand slithered down his pants, finding him rock-hard. You massaged his length with your fist, and just like that, you both found yourselves in a standoff; heated stare on heated stare, jerking each other off like it was a competition.
Leaning in to nibble his earlobe, you whispered in his ear, "Fuck me right now, Uso. And make it count."
He didn’t need to be told twice. He shot to his feet, lifting you into his arms with your ass in his clutches. Your body was alluringly warm and soft and he almost wept from how good you felt against him. Cradling you to him, his long legs quickly ate up the distance between the living room and your bedroom. He laid you on the edge of the bed and took off his shirt. His mind and body were highly strung, desperate to find some relief and release all of the pent up tension from tonight.
Although you tried to pretend that this was nothing more than a quick fuck, you couldn't resist sitting up and slowly kissing his lips. He tasted so good, and his naked body felt even better. You let your hands wander over his chest, dragging your nails across his pec tattoos in as you kissed him, before you pulled away abruptly and shoved him onto his back with his legs still set on the floor. Seeing him stretched out over your sheets brought back memories which you quickly tried to dispel. You yanked his pants down to his ankles with force, frowning when a condom fell out of the back pocket. Picking it up, you tossed it onto his chest.
“Put it on,” you told him, denying yourself the enticing visage of him rolling the rubber down his shaft. For all you cared, it was meant for Diamond, but you decided to ignore that and focus on the hard dick that was waiting and ready for your use.
Jey’s eyebrows creased in confusion as he watched you take off your panties, only to turn your back on him. "Whatchu doin’?"
"What’s it look like I’m doin’," you shrugged, nudging his legs wide apart and adjusting yourself in the reverse cowgirl position. You took hold of him and eased yourself down his length, an agonizingly slow slide until your ass pressed down on his pelvis. You both groaned at the feeling, your head hanging down while you reacquainted yourself with his fullness. This was for the best; you wouldn’t have to look at his face or get caught up in his gorgeous eyes.
Placing your hands on his knees, you began riding him, hard, quick, focusing solely on your pleasure. Circling your hips, you moaned out as your pussy immediately clamped around every inch of his cock. He was panting already, his hands on your waist helping you to bounce on him. Jey looked on, completely hypnotized by the sight of your ass slapping against his pelvis, your pussy leaking all over the condom covering his cock. He gripped your ass cheeks before spreading them open so you could take him deeper. As he began to jut his hips upwards into you, you threw your head back with a whimper, losing yourself to the sweet sensation of him filling you, wet smacking sounds echoing around the bedroom as you met him thrust for thrust.
“You feel so good, princess," Jey breathed, caressing wherever he could reach, eventually finding your breasts and tugging your puckered nipples between his thick fingers.
"Mmmm," you purred, trying to ignore his sexy voice. It was impossible to deny how good he felt, stretching you, testing the limits to the depth and tightness of your pussy. Still, you took back control by switching to hard, grinding motions, concentrating on getting off. Luckily you were almost there; he was nestled right against your g-spot as you gyrated your ass on him, edging closer to your orgasm.
Jey knew what you were trying to do, and the Alpha Male in him was not having it. Surging to his feet with you in his arms, he climbed into the bed and dumped you amongst the pillows back-first. Sitting back on his heels, he pried your legs wide apart and tapped his dick against your clit, then shoved it back inside you. The sharp, sudden invasion only fueled your pleasure, and you squealed, your moans coming in short, raspy pants as he pummeled your pussy hard and fast. Clamping a hand around your throat, he slammed his dick into your sweet spot over and over, making your eyes flutter shut in utter pleasure as you came all over him. This was just like old times...straight-up vulgar fucking that laid waste to your g-spot. Jey kept fucking you through your orgasm, looking down at the place where your bodies merged, and smiling arrogantly at what he saw.
"Look at that pussy, nutting all over my cock. So fuckin' good. You missed Daddy's dick, amirite?"
"Yes, Daddy," you moaned, turning your head to the side as he started rotating his hips, slow-grinding inside your pussy, "Aww, shit..."
“Look at me,” he growled, frowning when you ignored him. Again. Grabbing your cheeks between his fingers, he steered your face back to meet his heated gaze. “I said look at me,” he ordered, his voice gruff and menacing.
Moth. Flame. Just as you predicted, the feelings and emotions came flooding back. Just like you feared, you got lost in his eyes; the passion, the desire, the affection you felt for him, reflecting back at you. You groaned softly with him, and he leaned down and nuzzled your throat, his nostrils breathing in your scent, your skin, absorbing you. Your legs hitched higher around his waist, allowing him to hook them over his elbows and deepen his strokes, giving you that Henny dick, and your pussy reacted accordingly.
“Yeah, baby, grip that dick, squeeze me hard. You’re turned on, ain’t cha,” Jey grunted, licking the seam of your lips and doing the same to both your nipples, “I told you, this pussy belongs to me. You’re mine, princess. Don’t ever forget that shit.”
“Mmm, unnnhhh, mmmph…” You whined so sexily beneath him. All soft and delicate like a little kitten. You were looking up at him with your pretty eyes, dilated with a mix of pleasure and liquor as you took his big cock like a good girl. He was caught up in your eyes and the feel of your fingers clutching the back of his head, enticing him to kiss you again, adding extra tongue, his head seemingly about to combust from how good he was feeling. Sober or intoxicated, your sex was always incredible; he couldn’t get enough of you if he tried.
He swung your legs up onto his shoulders, your heavy pants dissolving into outright cries when he started jackhammering into you. His hips collided into yours with brute force, smothering you into the bed with his bigger body. It was mind-blowing, his dick at the bottom of your pussy, your toes touching the headboard, the heat between you spreading, scorching, hurtling towards an extinction-level explosion. And when it hit you, tears sprung to your eyes and you were robbed of all speech. Your muscles tensed and your legs shook from its intensity.
Jey’s tortured groan warmed the crook of your neck as he detonated with you, his body shivering from indescribable pleasure. The harsh movement of his hips softened into gentle rolls in his attempt to pour every drop of himself in the condom buried inside you. Afterwards, he hovered weakly over your prone frame, drained and out of breath, before finding enough strength to pull out and crumple down next to you. Your last thought as you curled up against his warm body was how much you missed this. Missed him.
------------------
The horrendous sensation of your stomach climbing up your throat woke you up. Almost falling out of the bed, you half-ran, half-stumbled into the bathroom. You barely made it to the toilet bowl in time, falling on your knees to empty the contents of your stomach. Tears pricked your eyes as you struggled to breathe. You hated throwing up. It hurt like hell and you always felt like you were puking up all your insides.
Just as you thought it was over, another wave of nausea came along, wrenching through your entire body. You suddenly felt a hand on your back, another pulling your hair away from your face. Jey. You tried to ward him off, but he didn’t budge, holding your hair until you were done puking your guts out. He then helped you up, took your robe and put it on you, and it was then you noticed he was in his briefs and nothing else. He waited for you to wash your mouth and brush your teeth, then carried you back to the bed, picking up the bottle of water and aspirin he’d set by the nightstand.
“Here, this will help. Took some earlier this morning before you woke up.” He handed them to you and watched you closely like a dutiful spouse. The taste of water right after brushing your teeth was revolting, but you forced the medicine down. Once you were finished, you put the water away and pointed at the door.
“You can get out now. Let yourself out when you’re done getting dressed."
There was a heavy silence as he digested your flippant dismissal. “You bein' for real right now?” he said through gritted teeth.
“What? We fucked and we got off. Why you still here?”
"Because I care about you," he responded. His voice was tight, strained, struggling to keep his emotions at bay. "Okay? I’m here because I didn’t want you to be alone. I stayed cuz I wanted to see you…Baby, we need to talk."
“I ain’t your baby. And I don’t wanna talk to you.” Getting back out of the bed, you left him alone in the room. You were still tired and the morning light felt as blinding as headlights, but you trudged on, eager to put distance between you and him.
Hurrying into his clothes and shoes, Jey fought off his own hangover symptoms as he followed you into the living room. “You ignored every single one of my calls and my texts. I been tryna talk to you for weeks. Just hear me out, please, babe.”
With every syllable he uttered, a tsunami was gathering strength inside you, threatening to break and flood the wall you had tried so hard to put back up. Then, that wall gave way, and your lips moved, the raging tsunami powering through the throbbing sensation in your head.
"Fuck you."
Jey flinched, chastened by your vicious rebuff. "Princess," he began, but you kept talking, your emotions spilling like a malfunctioning fountain.
"No, don’t fucking cut me off! Why would I ever want to speak to you again after what you did? You never gave me a chance to explain so why do you deserve to be heard? Huh?” You shoved your hair angrily out of your face. “After Cody kissed me, I came straight to you because I wanted to be honest with you and start off our relationship the right way. And instead you exposed us. I begged you, begged you to hear me out…but you didn't. You called me every name in the book over a misunderstanding! You humiliated me in front of our co-workers! Do you have any idea how that made me feel?"
He did. That was why he was here. To take responsibility for his actions. To start over, if you wanted to. He wanted you to understand that what he did hurt him as much as it hurt you.
But you had no interest in any of it. “That's not all you did, either and this is the one that really pisses me off. You used me. You used Key West to break down my walls and get close to me. You stole my heart, you made me fall for you and then tossed me aside like trash. You treated me like I was nothing, in fact, less than nothing. I always knew you hated me, but I never realized you hated me that much!”
He felt his stomach plummet somewhere in the abyss. “Baby, I don’t hate you-”
The laugh you let out at his response sent a chill through him. It was sarcastic, humorless, borderline manic, and it burned his soul, the fire almost as scalding as the one that blazed in your eyes.
“You don’t just hate me, Jey. You despise me,” you corrected, your tone clipped and ice-cold. “You detest me. You would never have done what you did if you don’t. You hurt me on purpose, and I blame myself because I was stupid to think you actually cared about me. I let my guard down and that’s on me. But mark my words when I say it will never, ever, ever, happen again. I swear on all four of my grandparents’ graves. You fucked with me for the last time.”
Jey forced down the lump that had formed in his throat. The regret in his eyes was palpable, looking like a lost puppy as he tried to plead his case. “Y/N, please-”
"Don’t touch me!" You jerked away when he tried to reach for you, your heart lurching at the hurt in his eyes. “Just fucking leave, alright? Leave me alone! Go back to Diamond. You can fuck her all you want now, cuz as far as I'm concerned, there's nothing between us."
Jey came closer to you, his eyes narrowed and unwavering. "After last night, we both know that’s bullshit,” he stated confidently.
For one agonizing second, you wanted to choke him out. You wanted to rip your heart out of your chest, hold the battered organ up in front of his face, and scream: "See this? This is what you did to me!" You were so upset; your legs were about to buckle and you just wanted him gone. You couldn’t bear to be near him anymore. "Last night was a drunken mistake. Period. We’re done, Jey. I don’t ever want to see you again. Get out!" Walking over to the door, you flung it wide open and glared pointedly at him.
A distraught Jey struggled to process this turn of events. He didn’t want to leave you. Not like this. But the tears in your eyes and the quivering of your lip told him everything he needed to know. He had done an unforgivable thing by breaking your heart. Breathing out a dejected sigh, he slipped past you without another word and walked out through the door, out of your life, just like you asked him to, his chest tightening with every step he took.
Slamming the door shut on the man you loved, your legs gave out at last, and you slid down to the ground in a flood of tears. This agony, this ache inside your chest, was tearing you apart. The betrayal and deep regret and utter worthlessness overwhelmed you. You couldn't breathe, your chest heaved, and you struggled not to cry out from the pain that gripped your broken heart like a vice.
On the other side of the door, Jey’s features crumpled in pain as he listened to the anguish of the woman he loved; your sniffles, your sobs, each one ripping out a different piece of his heart. Pressing his forehead against the door, his fingers splayed out against the wooden surface, as though trying to reach out to you, trying to take away your pain. The pain he caused.
"I'm sorry, Y/N…I'm so sorry…"
END OF PART 3
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More drama!😖😭
Thoughts? Is it finally over for our lovebirds? What’s going to happen in the season finale?
Please leave comments. I love comments!
Banner made by me. Jey gifs by @jeysuso. Credit to owners of the other pics and gifs.
#jey uso#jey uso fanfiction#jey uso imagines#jey uso x you#jey uso x black reader#jey uso x black oc#jey uso smut#the bloodline#roman reigns#jimmy uso#the usos fanfic#wwe#the usos#on sight by msbigredmachine
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The way that i have been trying to post a gifset of Sunday service for the last four day and tumblr keeps blocking it from appearing on my dash or tags i finally figured out that reason it’s keeps get blocked is because of this gif
Because the side of her ass cheek is showing are you fucking kidding?!??
There are gifset(s) of barry keoghan dick swinging in a circle getting thousands of notes but when i wanna post my good sis posted up with some Birkins i get block immediately 🙄
There is ass and titties all of this website (don’t care actually grateful) so why when i wanna post a side profile of some ass it’s a problem🙄🙄
It’s such a cute gif and now i don’t even feel like posting the gifset without it…it’ll feel incomplete…
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(Y/n) and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week: Monday
Tuesday Wednesday Thursday (Part 1) Thursday (Part 2) Friday Saturday Sunday
Spotify Playlist (collaborative)
Pairing: SBI x sister!reader (she/her pronouns)
Warnings: swearing, toxic friends, panic spirals/attacks, injury, taking pills for pain
Summary: you have a very bad week, how will you manage? (Characters are fully human, but based on their DSMP characters. High school AU)
Word count: 4,818
(A/N): I’ve never played volleyball or watched Haikyuu before, so I’m not 100% certain how games work. Also, I probs should’ve split this into two parts, but eh.
“(Y/n) love, you look homeless in that sweater, it’s literally so fucking ugly.”
“Haha, yeah it is. I guess I just wasn’t really trying today.”
Adrian snorted, scanning your body with his cold eyes. “Today? You don’t try at all. You always look like trash.”
“More than trash, you always look like you just rolled in dog shit.” Sammy threw her head back and cackled at her own joke.
Your friends around you erupted in laughter as you four walked down the hallways of the hell that was your public high school. You awkwardly chuckled alongside them, you didn’t really find it funny, but you didn’t want to draw more attention towards yourself.
“Seriously, (y/n), I really don’t know why we still hang out around you anymore. You really let yourself go.”
“Yeah, now that I think about it, you did gain like five pounds in the past week.”
“Really not a good look on you, love. Then again, nothing you do can make you look good anymore.”
You tried to not let their comments get to you, you really did, but sometimes their comments just rooted themselves deep into your subconscious. You didn’t try looking good anymore, you couldn’t wear anything without them criticising it. You could never win.
“Awe,” Adrien poked your cheeks, “stop looking so sad. We’re just trying to give you advice. You really need it.”
“Yeah, (y/n). You’re so sensitive, get a grip.”
“Guys look, I think she’s gonna cry!”
You wiped at your welling eyes with the sleeves of your sweater. “I’m not. I just got allergies.”
Annie rolled her eyes. “Uh-huh. Anyways, what are our plans for Halloween? We should totally dress up like sexy angels! I think that’d be so cool. Like, Clint’s party won’t be ready for us.”
“Oh, about that Annie…”
“God, what now (y/n)?”
“I was actually planning on spending Halloween night taking Tommy and Tubbo trick-or-treating with my brothers and dad. I won’t be able to go with you guys, I’m sorry.”
The group groaned loudly. “C’mon (y/n), you never hang out with us anymore.”
“Oh my god (y/n) you still go trick-or-treating? We’re juniors.”
“I’m sorry, I’ve just been busy with my AP classes and studying for the SAT. My team captain’s really been pushing the team hard with volleyball practice. State finals are soon and we want first this year.”
“No matter how much studying you do, you’re gonna fail. You’re stupid, so why try? Just give up and hang out with uuussss.”
“Yeah (y/n),” Adrien looked at you suspiciously, “you’ve been ignoring us lately. I thought we were friends. Do you even wanna be friends anymore?”
You felt a flare of panic flare up in your gut. “I do! I-I just have so much going on right now. It’s starting to get hard to juggle everything.”
“We’re starting to think that you don’t like us anymore, we want our (y/n) back!” Sammy whined. The others agreed with her, making you feel guilty. You were ignoring them, it was selfish in your opinion. You supposed that you could skip out on taking Tommy and Tubbo trick-or-treating, there’ll be other years you could take them.
“I guess I can take Tommy and Tubbo another year. They’d just have to go without me this year.”
They cheered, giving you praise. You beamed at that, they seemed down lately and you loved it when they’d give you compliments. They didn’t do that much, so that made their praise more special to you. You strived to get compliments.
You four went off to your separate first classes for the day. Yours was statistics, a class you’ve been struggling in lately. You didn’t know anybody in there except for your oldest brother Techno, so you tried to stick with him. Unfortunately, the teacher’s seating chart placed you both on opposite ends of the room, probably because of your last names indicating that you’re siblings. You placed your stuff down on the table and plopped down into your seat, already drained. You had a long day ahead of you; you had a major AP world history test in your next class, you had to give a presentation in your AP english class that was worth a quarter of your final grade, and you had a semifinals volleyball match that would last until late in the night. If your team won, you would be going to state finals, so it was a lot of pressure on your shoulders. You were the main setter, so you had to really focus tonight if you were going to score your team points.
“Alright class, pull out your homework!”
Fuck, you had homework? You looked in your folder, only to see the unfinished sheet full of equations you didn’t understand staring back at you tauntingly. Mr. Mullins walked over to your desk, took one look at your blank homework, and just walked right past you. Another big fat zero in the gradebook for you, just what you needed. At least he wasn’t in the mood to berate you today. You didn’t need any more stress piled onto your shoulders.
The lesson felt like it dragged on forever with you frantically trying to copy down the notes on the board and trying to understand the content at the same time. Overtime, he would call students up to the board. Hopefully, he would skip over you today. “Ms. Minecraft.” Goddamn it, you spoke too soon.
Your head perked up and you looked at him. “Yes sir?”
“Come up to the board and solve this.”
Gulping, you felt panic rise up in you and stood up with shaky knees. On the board was part of the newer content he was just teaching. Something that you understood only a little bit better than the rest, and that’s not saying much. You still didn’t understand the content completely. Your writing was shaky as you wrote what you thought was right on the board. Finding the answer, you circled it and looked at Mr. Mullins. He looked disappointed.
“That’s wrong, Ms. Minecraft. Please sit down.”
You felt like your face was on fire as you saw the entire class burning holes into you with their eyes. Though they looked dead inside, as per usual with any morning class full of tired teenagers, their effects still took hold on you. You wanted to crawl into a dark hole and die. You sat back down and stared at your note packet, you couldn’t focus on the lecture anymore. Your attention was fully on your surroundings, you were hyper aware of every little whisper and bouncing leg in your peripheral vision. You could feel yourself spiraling, usually that wouldn’t happen until after your third class. Today was going to be rough.
The loud chime of the bell startled you out of your thoughts. You shakily put your papers back into your binder and put the binder back into your backpack. Right as you were about to walk through the door, you heard Techno catch up to you. “Hey, you good?”
“Yeah Tech, I’m just peachy.”
“Are you su-”
“Technoblade. I’m fine. Now if you excuse me, I have to get to my next class. I have an important presentation I’ve gotta prepare for.”
Without giving him any room to argue, you rushed off to your english class. You had Adrian and Annie in your class. For your presentation, you were paired up with people that you hardly knew. At least they did their part in the project, you were certain you were going to die if you got paired up with Adrian and Annie again. You loved them, but they never did any part of their portion of work. They left it to you to finish at midnight the day the project was due. To be fair, they both told you they had family emergencies, so you covered for them just that once.
You pulled out your flashcards only to have them knocked out of your hand when someone bumped into you. You quickly crouched to pick them up so you could have them in order by time class started. “Oops, sorry love.”
It was Annie. She and Adrian towered over your crouched form smirking at you. Looking back down to rearrange your cards, you murmured “it’s ok.”
“Are you ready for this presentation, I know I am.”
You smiled a little. “Actually, I think I’m going to ace this. English is my best subject.”
“Yeah (y/n), I wasn’t asking you. I was talking to Annie. Besides, you’re probably going to fail this.” Adrian scoffed.
“Thank you for asking, Adrian,” Annie shot a pointed look at you, “at least someone cares.”
The bell rang, signifying the start of your second block. You felt like you had a lump in your throat blocking your breathing. If Adrian, one of the smartest kids in your english class, said that you were going to fail, then you probably were going to fail. That would take a huge hit on your grade, this project was worth a quarter of your final grade after all. You were zoned out for the entirety of your classmate’s presentations putting yourself into a spiral. You jumped when Mr. Todd, your teacher, called your group up to present.
You stood stiffly in the middle of your two groupmates and clutched your flashcards with clammy hands. Luckily, your part of the presentation was not first. When it came to your part, you were stuttering and tumbling over your words. You even dropped your flashcards in front of everybody, causing half the class to snicker. Your face burned as you hurried to pick them up and your other groupmate took this as a signal to continue the presentation. You still had an important point to make that was integral for the set up to your other groupmate’s part of her presentation. You stared at your flashcards for the rest of the presentation.
When the bell rang, you made a mad dash out of the classroom. You didn’t want to talk to anybody, especially not Adrian or Annie. It was a relief that you had your lunch period at the moment. You could hide yourself in the bathroom nobody used and let your panic attack ride itself out.
You ducked inside a stall and sat on the toilet, bringing your knees up to bury your face in them. The tears and panic you were holding in all day let itself out with explosive effects. You started to hyperventilate as you muffled your sobs with your knee. Your chest painfully clenched so you couldn’t breathe. Your limbs felt like they weighed two tons each and they were shaking intensely. You didn’t hear the end of the lunch bell ring. By the time you calmed down slightly, you were five minutes late to AP world history.
You packed your stuff up in a hurry, power walking through the halls. You probably looked like shit, but you didn’t care, you had a class to get to and a test that you probably wouldn’t be able to finish now. You lost ten minutes of your test time. When you tried to open the closed door, you found that it was locked. You had to knock if you wanted to get in. You raised a shaking hand to knock, but the door was opened by a less-than-impressed Ms. Osborne. She ushered you to your desk and gave you your unit test.
You couldn’t focus. The multiple choice section was usually a breeze to you, but you couldn’t comprehend any of the questions. When you could comprehend them, you couldn’t concentrate on choosing an answer. You did your best to find the correct answers, but you were almost positive that at least half of them were wrong. Your handwriting was nearly incomprehensible and your essay topic was something you didn’t study for. When you were done with half of the body paragraphs, the bell rang and you had to turn in your unfinished test.
You had your independent online psychology course next in the library. You usually worked alone secluded in a corner deep inside the library where nobody went. You would get some solace in being alone. Maybe you’d calm down enough so that you could ride home with your brothers and not go for a long walk so you could avoid them.
You settled down in the comfortable chair and pulled out your laptop to get started. Psychology was your favorite class. It was easy for you to understand, it didn’t have much of a workload attached to it, and it was fun to learn about. It always calmed you down reading about the intricate workings of the brain.
By time the day was over, you got most of your psychology work done and you were on your way to the car you shared with Technoblade and Wilbur. You took out your spare keys and slumped against the window in the backseat. You were absolutely drained after your terrible day and you still felt panic swirling deep within you, waiting for the right moment to strike.
You stretched out your legs across the seat and leaned your back against the door. For the first time that day, you felt peaceful. You still had at least fifteen minutes to yourself until your brothers would start to make your way to the car. You felt the panic subside slightly and you fully relaxed. You closed your eyes and let yourself drift off into a light sleep. You needed your energy for tonight’s match.
The door you were leaning on swung open and you tumbled backwards smacking the back of your head against the metal frame of the car and reverse scorpioning onto the pavement. Your entire upper back and the back of your head exploded in pain and your lower back hurt slightly from having your back bent uncomfortably. You heard laughter above you as you felt tears of pain start to slip out of your eyes. Your legs swung out from their place above your face and landed on the ground with a painful thump.
You saw three blurry figures above you laughing at your pain. You reached up with a shaky hand to wipe at your tears and saw Adrian, Sammy, and Annie. They were cackling as you shakily stood up and sat on the comfortable seats of the car. You waited patiently for them to calm down.
Eventually, Sammy calmed down enough to explain what happened to you through chuckles. “I’m sorry (y/n), it was just too good to resist. You should’ve seen your face.”
She and the others broke back into uncontrolled laughter as they remembered your embarrassing fall. You were used to their antics, and quite frankly it felt good to make your friends laugh, even if it were at your own expense. Just as they were calming down once again, you saw Wilbur and Techno walk out the front doors of the school laughing at something the other said. Annie and Sammy heard their laughter and quickly turned around to watch them. They had massive crushes on both of your brothers, many in the school did.
Your brothers made their way to your shared car and stopped to look at you in slight confusion. “(Y/n), were you crying? What happened?” Wilbur asked worriedly.
“Yea-”
“Oh Wilbur, it was terrible, (y/n) fell out of the car. I don’t think she closed the door before she leaned on it.” Annie interrupted you with a faked concerned tone, a complete contradiction to her reaction before your brothers came.
Techno hastily made his way to the driver’s side door. “Well, if she’s hurt we better get going, right Wilbur?”
“Yes! We better get going, please excuse us.” He sat in the passenger seat and closed the door without hearing Sammy and Annie’s desperate attempts to stop them so they could talk to them. Your brothers thought Sammy and Annie were annoying. They absolutely hated being around them.
Waving apologetically at your friends, you pulled yourself into the car and closed the door. Annie and Sammy looked offended that you had let Wilbur and Techno get away from them. Avoiding their eyes, you looked down at your tightly clasped hands. They were shaking slightly.
After pulling out of the parking lot, Techno glanced at you from the rearview mirror. “You ok (y/n)?”
“Yeah, my back just hurts and I have a headache.”
“Well, do you wanna go and get some ice cream? We still have some time left before we have to pick up Tommy and Tubbo. Dad doesn’t have to know,” Wilbur asked you.
You sighed, you wanted nothing other than to take a nap before your match. “Sorry, but I need to watch what I eat today. We have semifinals tonight and I can’t have anything sugary. I just wanna go home and take a nap.”
Your brothers were quiet for the rest of the car ride until you reached your driveway. Techno twisted his body around in his seat to look at you after he put the car in park. “Did you actually fall out of the car?”
Shit, should you tell him the truth? If you did, they would almost certainly get mad at your friends. Sammy and Annie would never forgive you if you turned your brothers against them. You decided that you would take one for the team again. “Yeah, I wasn’t paying attention.”
Techno snorted. “Well, that was stupid,” he jokingly said. “Next time you’re gonna get run over by a parked car.”
You knew that he meant that as a joke, but it still stung. Stamping your emotions down, you laughed with him and Wilbur. It was stupid of you to do, you shouldn’t have let your guard down if you weren’t at home.
You winced as you slung your bag on your back and walked the best you could back into your house. Your upper back was killing you. You made a beeline to the bathroom and rummaged through the medicine cabinet looking for some pain relief pills. You took some and shambled off to your room to take your well earned nap. You set your alarm’s setting to its loudest volume and passed out.
You jolted up and gasped when you felt a wave of pain hit your upper back. You blearily looked at the time. You had a little under two hours before you had to get back to the school for your match. You groaned when you pulled yourself up, your head pounding with every turn. You pulled yourself out of bed and once again took some pain pills. You went downstairs to grab an apple or something to eat. Your dad was at the stove stirring something around in a pot.
He turned to look at you with an excited smile. “You ready for your match tonight? You’re gonna kill it!”
You only nodded halfheartedly and plopped yourself down at the table with your apple. Philza frowned at your lack of enthusiasm, but he figured that it was just because you just woke up from a nap. You’d bounce back eventually.
“Wilbur told me that you fell out of the car? How’d you do that?”
You shrugged, wincing slightly as it moved your back slightly. “Dunno, must’ve not closed the door.”
Philza was at your side in a hurry, his hands hovering over your shoulders. “Did you get hurt? Show me where it hurts.”
“My back and the back of my head.”
“Can I move your shirt so I could look?”
“Sure, go ahead.”
You felt him gently pull the neck of your t-shirt away from your body to peek at your back. You heard his breath hitch as he looked. Was it that bad? “Good god (y/n),” he breathed out.
“What, is it bad?”
“Don’t you feel how bad it is? Your entire back is bruised. I think there’s some blood too.”
“Damn.”
“First, language. Second, that’s all you have to say? Aren’t you in pain?”
“Yeah, but the pain pills are gonna kick in soon. I’ll be fine.”
“Would you be able to play tonight? I really think you should sit this one out.”
“No, I’m playing tonight Dad.”
“(Y/n),” oh no, he was using his stern dad voice. “It’s not a good idea to play tonight. You’re hurt, I’m sure they’ll understand if you sit this one out.”
You felt frustration rise up in you. “We’re in the semifinals. They need me, I’m the main setter. They’d lose without me playing.”
“(Y/n), I’m serious. You’re not playing today.”
“Dad, I am playing today. Look, I’ll talk to Coach Williams to see if I could be rotated out more often. I know she’d let me.”
He stared at you for a while before sighing. He knew there was no convincing you. “...Fine. But you better talk to Coach Williams about sitting out for a bit if your back hurts too much or I swear I’ll drag you off the court myself.”
You smiled a little at the small victory. “Thank you! I promise I’ll sit out if needed.”
He quirked an eyebrow at you. “If needed?”
You sighed, “when needed.”
He walked over to the pot, stirring the contents slightly. “That’s better. Dinner’s almost ready, I made some pasta.”
“It smells good, but I think I’m skipping out on it for today. I already ate this apple and if I eat any more I’ll probably hurl on the court.”
He made a displeased noise in the back of his throat, “fine, but you’re eating something when we get home tonight.”
He walked off to go get your brothers and Tubbo for dinner. You could hear their booming steps racing down the stairs towards the kitchen. They raced into the kitchen and almost crashed into the back of your chair. You stood up and looked at the two excitable fifth graders. “Careful boys, don’t want you getting hurt.”
“You’re no fun (y/n),” Tommy whined.
“Sure, sorry bout that,” Tubbo beamed at you.
You chuckled, making your way upstairs to get ready for your match. You took off your clothes with great difficulty and slipped on your jersey and your spandex shorts. They were way too short for your tastes, but you couldn’t wear longer ones, they’d just get in the way. You fondly remembered how your dad flipped out when he first saw you in them, he hated them with a burning passion. He still hates how short they are.
When you were struggling with pulling your hair back into a tight, sleek ponytail, the back of your head throbbed continuously with pain. You most likely bruised your scalp.
You slipped on your shoes that were made specifically for playing volleyball and headed downstairs. You were met with Tommy and Tubbo jumping in excitement seeing you in your uniform. They loved going to your matches, even if they would always pass out in the car after them because matches usually ended late at night. You grabbed your dad’s keys and headed to his car. Before you could lead the boys out the door, Philza’s voice stopped you.
“(Y/n), coat.”
You huffed, grabbing your coat and putting it on before tossing him his keys. You four got into the car and set out for the high school. The short drive was filled with Tommy and Tubbo asking you questions about volleyball and encouraging you. “(Y/n), you’re gonna kick their butts!”
“Yeah!” Tubbo cheered
Despite their voices causing a spike of pain to shoot throughout your head, you laughed at their enthusiasm. It was always nice to hear your little brother and pseudo brother in the stands cheering you on, they were your and your team’s personal cheerleaders.
Not long after you got to the school, you were stretching with your team on the gym’s floor. Your posse found their way into the stands, sitting in the front row. The away team watched your team like a hawk, analysing every single player for any weakness. It was because of them that you tried to not show any pain when you moved your back. You talked to Coach Williams before the team stretch and she was obviously sympathetic with your situation. She agreed to switching you out with the standby setter every few rotations.
The echo of the whistles caused pain to ring in your head every time someone scored or a foul was called. Your team captain, Haley, was constantly, yet discreetly checking on you throughout the game since she was always next to you. She was the team’s main spiker after all.
The game droned on and on before you realized that the opposing team was targeting you when they were offensive. They probably realized that you were injured a round ago. You tried your best to block every ball that was sent your way, but a few managed to slip past you when you couldn’t move fast enough. This team was good, but your team was better.
The score during the final round was tied and the clock was on it’s last ten seconds as the ball soared your way. You dove to hit it, landing on your shoulder on the hard floor and hitting it up high enough for Haley to spike the ball down. The crowd went wild as the ball bounced off from the opposite end of the court almost simultaneously with the screeching of the referee’s whistle, signifying the end of the game and your team’s victory.
You laid on the floor in pain, you thought you must’ve pulled your tender muscles in your back and shoulder. It hurt to move it. You felt one of your teammates grab your hand to yank you up into a giant full team group hug. You yelped slightly in pain as you felt arms press against your back and hands firmly patting your bruised shoulders. You were whisked away into the locker room to change into the pajamas you brought with you.
“(Y/n), are you alright? That was a pretty hard fall.” Haley’s soft voice asked you. You felt your heart sing in your chest.
“Yeah Hales, I’m fine. I just pulled a few muscles.”
Her perfectly shaped eyebrows furrowed together, “are you sure? As your team captain and your friend, I’m worried about you.”
You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. You felt warm knowing that she cared about you. “I’m sure, worrywart.”
She rolled her eyes playfully and breathed out a soft laugh. “Sorry for asking, grump.” Her laugh sounded like music to your ears.
Your phone vibrated in your pajama pocket, alerting you of your family waiting for you in the car and for you to hurry up. You sighed, “sorry Hales, I gotta go. Dad’s getting impatient.”
She gave you a small smile. “Oh, well, tell your family I said hi! Good work on the court today, I wouldn’t ask for a different setter.”
You felt your cheeks warm up and you watched with wide eyes as she left the locker room. Your phone vibrated again, your dad was really starting to get impatient.
You walked out of the school as fast as you could to find your dad’s car waiting for you up front. Jumping in and softly closing the passenger side door, you slumped against the window. “(Y/n),” Tommy’s tired voice slurred. “That. Was. Pog…”
You glanced back to see him and Tubbo snoring away in their seats. Your match was more exciting than usual, so that must’ve really tired them out. You chuckled, turning back around to lean against the window. You took care not to put any weight on your shoulder or back.
“(Y/n), you were amazing out there, but why did you dive for that ball? That fall looked like it hurt.”
You hummed tiredly, “thanks Dad. I just did what I thought would win us the game. We’re going to finals!” You quietly sang.
“Did you hurt your shoulder?”
“I actually don’t know, but I think I might’ve pulled a few muscles. Nothing too bad.”
“...I scheduled a doctor’s appointment for you tomorrow morning during your first and second blocks. I want you to get your back, shoulder, and head looked at. You looked miserable the entire match.”
You sighed, too tired to argue, “mmk.”
He chuckled before the car fell into a comfortable silence. The gentle bouncing of the car and the subtle hum of the engine was lulling you to sleep. Your eyelids were drooping by the time you pulled into your driveway.
You drug yourself out of the car and into the house, leaving Philza with the sleeping boys. You walked straight to your room and plopped down on your bed, passing out instantly for the second time that day.
Series taglist (comment if you want to be added):
#sbi x reader#sleepy bois x reader#sleepy bois inc x reader#sibling reader#sister reader#platonic#reader is a lesbian#toxic friends#volleyball#mcyt#mcyt x reader#high school AU#philza x reader#technoblade x reader#wilbur soot x reader#tommyinnit x reader#tubbo x reader#tw: swearing#tw: toxic friendship#tw: panic attack#tw: injury#tw: anxiety#tw: bullying
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I wonder how long any further stay I have in this fandom will be. On one hand, this is the blog on tumblr I post to the most among my blogs. I have four of them. One is a Junk Drawer, one is This She-Ra blog, one is a Zelda blog, and one, for anyone interested, is an original stories writeblr. I’m fixing for the Zelda one to be frequently posted to next month since the Linktober art challenge is a thing and I want to do it - hope I don’t run out of steam doing a drawing a day. I’ve done Linktober before. Quite fun, quite challenging. And I plan to post stuff for a challenge in the She-Ra fandom next month, a series of fanfics that I already have done. And that’s when I realize I partly did the fanfic challenge out of spite. I know that the person who issued the challenge, and who handles other challenges for my main ship / sphere in the fandom has me blocked / dislikes me / probably thinks I’d be better off to the world dead. Meh. They probably don’t really care about me *that* much, but they’re someone whom I don’t ever recall ever having any personal issues with, but are apparently in a group of people who have put me on the outs and that’s just the way it is. And I’ve decided if that’s the way it is, I’m gonna stick around the fandom like ants in the kitchen. Just doing my own thing, too bad your challenge-prompts are reblogged by lots of people and are viewable on the whole of tumblr / don’t take a master hacker to see. Don’t know if they even care about me doing their prompt fics, but if they are put out by it, it’ll just be frosting on the cake. They *probably* don’t have a problem with any particular person doing prompt-fills / just don’t care and just don’t want to have any personal contact with me, which is fine, but imagining that they might be mildly annoyed by me doing the prompts and generally being around and feeling petty gives me life. Spite has gotten me through more shit in life than you can imagine. And... feeling spiteful is kind of what’s kept me in this fandom. I do genuinely enjoy the characters, certain ones especially. I enjoy viewing and collecting fanart, reading fics, especially new voices who weren’t there for some of the great fandom wars. However, I don’t actually go back to re-watch the show very often and I feel myself pulled into other interests (including that nagging voice in the back of my head whenever I feel I’m fandoming too much of “shouldn’t you work on something you fully own? Even if you’re just putting it out for free on the writeblr?”) It’s like, I’m fiddling around with a retro video game right now, Zelda fandom is going NUTS because of a new game release date announcement. One of my old favorite animes, which was a major fandom for me for a long time is getting a remaster next year. And at the end of the day, I feel like I’ve seen every flavor of Entrapdak done five ways to Sunday, I like Catradora and Glimmadora, etc. but they were never my main-enthusiasm ships (you know... lacking that mad science energy I vibed with). I almost feel like there’s nothing new left that I or anyone else can give to this ship - just a lot if similar plots cycling over and over again with a few standouts of Really Good Fic and Really Good Art mostly from the fresh voices. Clone fandom, too... okay, let’s level. It’s always been weird. Weird on top of weird on top of weird. I’m not even talking about my own contributions. The inside jokes are odd, sometimes unsettling, a lot of the drama people write and draw is unsettling (which is to be expected, actually, when you explore their predicament more than the show did). A lot of it was always sexualized in a way I always felt odd about (not all the fans, but...quite a lot). And Prime-simps outright scare me. (I don’t think it’s wrong or bad in any way, I just... personal vibes for me). Writing from prompts has shown me that, yeah, it’s fun, but also restraining. My favorite of my latest batch of stories involves a plot that is blatantly out of character for the nature of the canon, but I needed to do it to make the plot idea I had work. And I feel almost as if I’ve just made my favorite characters more “my own” than what is canonical - basically Fandom Syndrome. I am having fun discussions in this fandom, and I do have a weird crossover I’ve been mulling over, but I feel like some of my spite is waning and the original interest I had is waning, too. I’ve been in this fandom a long time - not nearly as long as others (I’ve been a Zelda-nerd for over a literal decade), but this fandom isn’t really... ongoing, nothing fresh and only so many ways to play with what’s there before you’re tired of eating the same food all the time. I was a fan of Spop from the first season, lured in by being a nostalgia-fan of the original who wanted to see what the new show was going to do to my childhood. And then I stayed for Entrapta. Was impressed with Hordak’s upgrae from the get-go, got into him later into the series. I was *here* and doing *fanart* and writing *fanfic* before a lot of the Big Name fans showed up. I was shipping Entrapdak as a lark / crackship since Season 2. I’ve been...here... for a while. And, in part, I feel like “that old, lame, smelly dog everyone wants to put down.” *Shrug.* I definitely will not leave the fandom on anything less than my own terms. With fandoms I am no longer in I’ve never just quit them. I’ve always kind of petered out and faded off as my interests changed, with it happening gradually. I feel like I’m sticking around in this one out of spite, but I ‘m watching the light of day change.
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Sunday
So before my writer’s block cracked open in August, someone I believed was my friend sent me this writing prompt that actually did produce some quality writing in about 20 minutes. She sent it to me right before Mother’s Day, which is historically a hard day for me to deal with because of my relationship with my mom. I posted it on Mother’s Day, and I maybe reblogged it once. And today is Sunday, and the prompt is for Sundays, and I wanted a trusted friend or two who I don’t think saw this before to see it here, and I wanted to add onto it. I know I’m posting a lot here and I’m not sure who if anyone is looking at it, but the words are helping me. So I’m going to keep doing it. Anyway, this was the prompt:
Here’s what I wrote:
Sunday
My mother always prioritized convenience over connection. When I was a little girl, Mom never minded the twenty minute drive to the river to drop me off with my grandparents daily, because they provided free childcare for me when she worked. It was convenient. I set up camp at Gramma and Granda’s; that’s really where home was, even though the address listed on my school and medical records said Not Their House. Once Gramma died, and I was closer to twelve than eleven, and Mom felt confident I could handle myself alone without getting her outwardly accused of being a negligent mother, all of my connections became her inconvenience. Pull her out of the school district she’s grown up in and move her into the closer, more convenient one. Who cares if she doesn’t have any friends? Who cares about her missed connections? Who needs connections when you have convenience? Geographic closeness will always conquer emotional closeness on Mom’s list of what’s important. I started living for Sunday. The same twenty minute drive once a week to visit Granda, one of exactly two people I felt lovingly connected to, and the only one still living, became a chore. My connection didn’t matter, only her perceived inconvenience did, but I still got to have it on Sunday. I still got to go to the little river town church where my favorite aunt and uncle and cousins all went; I still got to watch baseball on cable with Granda in his little retirement home apartment. He sold the house and split the money four ways; twenty-five percent to Mom and Dad. He didn’t want the money and he didn’t want to live there anymore without her; there were too many stacked years of memories; too much connection from which he couldn’t escape the heavy loss. He didn’t want to live anywhere without her, really; he didn’t want to live without her. Period. Granda started regularly asking God to take him so he could be with His Doe and not in this little apartment where he lived only for Sunday and the scraps of connection he used to feast on every day. Mom called him a drag. She echoed his wish that God would just take him as often as he made it, but she didn’t want him to regain his treasured connection, she just wanted to pile up more of her own convenience. She hoarded convenience like a dragon hoards gold, and regardless of how much she felt was stolen from her or who she felt took it away, that was the loss she felt. Mom despised Sunday. Sunday took more than just a stray coin or two from her abundance of convenience; and my connection to Granda; to the river town; to the rest of my family; never adequately compensated her for her deficit. It grew every week; my debt for insisting on the connection grew with interest each Sunday, but I let it grow until Granda died too. He finally got to reconnect. At least I hope that’s what happened with him and Gramma; they’re together now, somewhere, everyday, connected. I’m not sure about it though. I don’t go to any church on Sunday anymore. I don’t even make a twenty minute drive. But I’m home and always connected.
I should have subtitled this post Connection and Convenience.
I’m posting this again here because I’m feeling the same dismissal and disregarding of my connections from the person who sent me this prompt originally that I have always felt from my mom. She’s like oddly echoed my mom on so many levels for me in the past two weeks of sitting in fairly extreme social anxiety. Like an echo, it’s not exactly the same as the original sound, but it’s close enough to be recognizable. I thought we were connected. Because of my past with my mom, I’ve been unfortunately set up to believe that anyone who willingly spends time with me and/or talks to me where I get to say things too must love me. But almost always, they’re using me. And this person definitely was. I was convenient company, not a real connection. As soon as I became inconvenient, I wasn’t connected anymore. I try my best to not ever operate like that. I certainly never intend to treat other people like they are just a convenience to me, and I try to convey that I am willing to deal with a fair amount of inconvenience for a real connection. What I give is always real. It comes from a genuine, sincere place. But sometimes things in my own life come to the surface, like serious anxiety and trauma triggers...like practical impediments like sickness and travel and family emergency...like whatever. And I know those things happen in other people’s lives too, so I try to never be inconvenient whenever I possibly can. I know people have families and other friendships and careers and health conditions and their own trauma that makes it difficult sometimes to connect with me in convenient ways, and I try my best to be alright with that. So when someone else treats me cavalierly...makes it very clear that although I am willing to wade through some inconvenience for them, they aren’t willing to feel a drop of it from me...ever...regardless of what the inconvenience is...it hurts a lot. It hurts because it always takes me back to my mom. It triggers most of my anxiety and trauma and self-esteem damage triggers. So that’s where I’m at this Sunday. There, and I’ve been watching Derry Girls kind of staggered with amazing friends, and Granda Joe really makes me miss my own Granda.
TV show actors ^^^^
Real Life Me with my Gramma and Granda ^^^^^ Whoever reads this? You’re not convenient company for me. I feel like you’re an important connection. I hope you feel that way about me too. <3
#missing my grandparents pretty bad the past month#especially the last two weeks#connection you can be secure inside and certain of is very rare; they were my first real ones#and only real ones for a long time
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I think the first picture says it all. Sleep deprived. Pumping. Feeding. Rinse and repeat.
The last two days I was able to get out for TWO walks! They were about a mile each and even though it was disgustingly humid outside I’m SO happy to ease my way back into walking. The walk on Friday was just Kevin and I taking the wooded trail behind our place. The walk on Saturday was the girls, my mom and I trying out our new stroller!
The double in-line jogging stroller worked so well!!! Yes, it was heavy with both kids and a car seat and I’m wondering if I need to put more air in the tires, but it was easy to push and accommodated my babes perfectly. It was slightly challenging getting erp in and out of the bottom seat, I’ll find my groove soon. Can’t wait to start using it with regularity as I get my miles in while listening to audiobooks (currently listening to Stephen King’s newest, “Billy Summers” and really enjoying it!!). But, selfishly, I want to wait until it’s less gross out, because ew. Hopefully the weather turns quickly so we can make it happen on the daily!
Yesterday, my cousin and his family drove up three hours from North Carolina to visit with us and meet aug! (They’re all vaccinated, including the 15 and 13 year old) As long as everyone washed their hands we were okay with them holding the baby. They stayed for about three hours before driving back home. It was lovely to see them! Especially since Kevin and I just got to sit on the couch while everyone else entertained our girls.
Though, the visit thoroughly stressed my mom out as she was spending the last two days cleaning everything, making sure we had drinks and snacks to provide, etc. It was nice once they left because my mom was no longer worried about everything being perfect. I didn’t have enough energy to expend to care about appearances for my family. Though, I did change out of my normal leggings and loose shirt and into a more put together lounge outfit (shown above). Glad I don’t have the same level of anxiety that I used to have around this type of visit (that I obviously acquired naturally). Although, maybe I would have if I didn’t feel so spent just getting through each day. Who knows.
The last two nights I got the same amount of sleep as I have been getting (two blocks of four hours in a row with a feeding in the middle), but I’m feeling extra wiped lately. Guess I’m still working down my sleep debt.
Happy Sunday :)
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Only One Choice, Part 2, Chapter 10
Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic
From: [email protected]
Sent: April 28, 1997 10:46am
Subject: Coffee?
Hi Monica,
It’s Dana, from pathology. I was wondering if you’d like to get coffee tomorrow around lunchtime? I have a break in classes from 11-2, so anywhere in there would be fine.
I hope things are going well with VICAP.
-Dana
From: [email protected]
Sent: April 28, 1997 10:48am
Subject: Wednesday/Thursday
Hi,
I’m mildly shocked that you hadn’t already emailed me before I got in today. Are you alive?
If you’d like to meet up for lunch or coffee this week, I can do Wednesday or Thursday, sometime in the 11-3 timeframe. Let me know which works for you and I’ll block the time out so nothing else ends up on my schedule.
From: [email protected]
Sent: April 28, 1997 11:12am
Subject: RE:Coffee?
Hi Dana,
I’m so glad you reached out. I’d love to get coffee tomorrow; I can meet you just outside the autopsy bay at 1pm, if that works?
I look forward to it.
-Monica
From: [email protected]
Sent: April 28th, 1997 12:16pm
Subject: RE:Wednesday/Thursday
Hi Scully,
I see that my exceptional self control has paid off in spades. I am alive, and have resisted emailing you this morning through a combination of sheer will and a two-hour budget meeting.
Wednesday sounds perfect, I’ll be there at noon. Don’t ask me how many hours that is from now because I haven’t calculated it and I have no idea.
———
About an hour after returning from her coffee date with Monica, which was very pleasant and is something she hopes to repeat, she starts to feel just a little bit achy. She pushes through the rest of her work for the day and by the time she slumps through her apartment door at six, there’s no denying that she’s sick. She takes some Tylenol and goes to bed, hoping it will have passed in the morning, but when she wakes up it’s even worse. She calls in sick to work and goes back to sleep.
When she wakes again, the phone is ringing. She ignores it, only for it to start ringing again the moment the machine picks up. Dragging herself out of bed with a pained moan, she trudges to the hallway, retrieving the cordless phone and walking back to her bedroom as she answers.
“Hello?”
“Scully! Are you okay?”
“What? Yes. Mulder?” She burrows herself back under the covers with the phone tucked against her ear.
“Yes, it’s me, you didn’t answer my emails all morning and never showed up for our coffee date. I was worried.”
“Shit, Mulder, I’m sorry. I came down with something yesterday and called out sick. I totally forgot we were having coffee today.”
“You’re sick?” he asks, clear concern in his voice.
“Yes, just a virus or something, I’ll be fine.”
“Can I bring you something? Soup? Juice? Bad movies?”
She chuckles a little. “No, you don’t need to do that.”
“Who's gonna take care of you?”
“Mulder, I’m a grown adult with a cold, I can take care of myself.”
“Are you sure?” She can tell by his tone that he wants to do this more for himself than for her.
“Yes, I’m sure. I don’t want you to see me all sick and disgusting, Mulder. It’s too soon to ruin your image of me,” she says somewhat sarcastically.
“Seeing you sick is not going to change how I feel about you, Scully,” he says very tenderly, and she knows he means it. Still, she doesn’t like the idea.
“I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? Sorry to make you drive an hour for nothing. Rain check?”
He sighs noisily. “Okay, fine. I think you inadvertently left ‘stubborn’ off your list of flaws, though.”
“Well, I didn’t want to ruin all the surprises,” she replies with a smile.
He reluctantly says goodbye, and as soon as he hangs up, she calls the first number on her speed dial.
“Hello,” calls Missy in her typical singsong greeting.
“Missy, can you come over?” she whines, little sister mode in full effect, “I’m sick.”
Missy arrives forty five minutes later and fusses around, gathering a glass of water, Tylenol, and the thermometer that is buried in the bottom of a bathroom drawer. Dana has relocated to the couch, and makes a face around the thermometer propped under her tongue when Missy sets four crystals of different shapes and colors on the coffee table, along with two herb-filled capsules. The thermometer beeps angrily and Missy plucks it out of her mouth, shaking her head.
“One hundred and two,” she says with a frown, “here, take these,” she holds out two Tylenol and two of the herb capsules with a glass of water.
Dana takes the Tylenol and leaves the others.
“Whatever those are, I’m not taking them. And you can pack up your crystals,” she says to Missy as she pops the Tylenol and chases them with a big gulp of water.
“They’re just echinacea, Sis, they won't kill you. And neither will the crystals.”
“But they also won’t help,” Dana says dryly, setting her water on the coffee table and burrowing back under her blanket.
“Well, I’ll just leave them right here,” Missy says, standing and going to the kitchen. “Why’d you call me, anyway? Shouldn’t playing sick maid be Mulder’s job now?” She’s looking through cupboards, pulling out a pot and a can of soup.
“It’s too soon for him to see me all congested and disgusting,” Dana replies, stifling a shiver. “He wanted to come over, but I told him not to.”
There’s a knock at the door. Dana sits up, exchanging confused looks with Missy.
“Did you order food?” Dana asks, and Missy shakes her head, moving to the door.
Dana watches from the couch as Missy opens the door to find no one on the other side. She looks at the floor, then down the hall one direction and the other. She stoops down and picks something up, then walks back to the couch with a paper bag.
“What is that?” Dana asks, and Missy shrugs, setting it on the coffee table and sitting at Dana’s feet. There’s a sheet of paper stapled to the bag, and Missy plucks it off, opening it while Dana explores the contents; a carton of tom kah gai soup.
Missy’s face is a mask of confusion as she reads whatever is written on the paper.
“What does it say?” Dana asks, and Missy hands it to her.
Every atom of your flesh is as dear to me as my own: in pain and sickness it would still be dear. Your mind is my treasure, and if it were broken, it would be my treasure still.
Dana’s chin puckers as her bottom lip sticks out in a pout. “Oh my god,” she gushes, “it’s Mulder.”
“What the hell does this mean?” Missy asks, taking the paper back and reading it again. “Does he write poetry or something?”
“No,” Dana answers, pulling the lid off the container and breathing in the spicy coconut smell, “it’s a quote from Jane Eyre.”
“Oh my god,” Missy says with a disgusted look, “you two really are meant for each other. This is sickening, Dana, you realize that, right?”
Dana is smiling, taking sips of the hot Thai chicken soup that he somehow knew she needed. “Yes, he’s also a giant nerd, if that’s what you’re saying. But beyond that, I don’t think we have much of anything in common, actually.”
“You both work for the FBI,” Missy offers.
“Yes, but in totally different areas. And he’s an atheist, and believes in unverifiable phenomena like aliens and spontaneous human combustion. And he’s impulsive and easy going, and he makes decisions with his gut,” Dana lists off Mulder’s attributes like she’s describing the trim level on a car. He’s cute, and he has a leather interior.
“Well, I certainly wouldn’t use any of those words to describe you,” Missy says pointedly, setting the note on the table, where Dana plucks it back up and reads it again. “But there’s something to be said for being with someone who’s different from you.”
“I don’t really buy into the idea of ‘opposites attract,’” Dana says flatly. “I think that’s just a lie people tell themselves to justify horribly mismatched partnerships.”
“I think ‘opposites attract’ implies that your qualities clash, like the odd couple. One is messy and the other is clean,” Missy replies, propping her elbow on the back of the couch. “But I heard about this idea of ‘perfect opposites’ which is more like someone who complements you, or helps kind of level you out. So perhaps you lean to the extreme in some areas where Mulder leans to the other extreme, and you learn to meet somewhere in the middle.”
Dana gives her a doubtful look. “What is the middle between believing wholeheartedly that Bigfoot exists, and knowing that he doesn’t?”
Missy takes this under serious consideration. “I think,” she says without a hint of sarcasm, “that the medium would be accepting that it’s possible that he exists, and possible he doesn’t, but there's no way to know for sure.”
“So a Bigfoot agnostic?” Dana asks, and Missy nods in confirmation.
Dana shakes her head. “Maybe you should have gone out with him, I think you two might be better suited.”
“Don’t give me any ideas,” Missy says with a coy smile. “Speaking of which, does he have any single friends?”
Dana shrugs around a gulp of soup. “I don’t know, I haven’t met any of his friends.”
“Well, when you do, keep an eye out would ya? Now that I’ve lost my single buddy, I may as well get back out there. God knows it’s torture enough hearing your lurid tales from the bedroom.”
“Missy, I haven’t told you a single lurid tale,” Dana chastises.
“I know, what’s up with that?” Missy retorts in mock offense, “speaking of, what happened when he took you out to dinner Sunday night?”
Dana shakes her head.
“Oh come on, Dana. I have no life, let me live vicariously,” Missy whines.
Dana shakes her head again. “The only thing I’ll say is; maybe don’t eat off the kitchen counter,” she says before giving Missy a guilty look.
Missy’s mouth drops open.
“Wow, I’m not sure if I’m more grossed out or jealous,” she says as she stands, “I’m gonna get out of here, if you’re good. I think I need to go pick up a guy at a bar for some meaningless sex.”
“Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks for coming by. If you need a condom there are some in the bathroom,” she adds with a sarcastic smile, and Missy sneers at her.
“Ha, ha,” Missy replies as she slips on her shoes and opens the door, “last time I checked, you can’t get pregnant from a vibrator.”
Dana gives her a sympathetic pout and Missy pulls the door closed behind her.
———
It’s a quarter past eight when the phone rings, and he pushes Priscilla onto the floor to retrieve it from his desk.
“Hello?”
“I can’t find it,” says a garbled voice.
“Hello?” he asks again, “who is this?”
“It’s really cold. It’s also too hot,” the voice says around a sound like fabric moving over the mouthpiece.
“Scully?”
“Yes?”
“Are you okay?”
There’s a pause. “Mulder?”
“Yeah, I’m here. Are you okay?”
“Mulder, where are you?”
“I’m at home. You called me at home. Is Missy there?”
“No, she had to take her vibrator to a bar,” she answers, and it’s clear that she’s completely delirious.
“Scully, I’m coming over,” he says, standing up to find his shoes and wallet. “Hey, Scully, I need you to do something for me, okay?”
“Hmmm?”
“Can you stand up, and walk to your front door?”
She sighs. “That’s very far.”
“I know it is, but I need you to unlock the door so I can get in. I don’t think your super would be very happy if I broke it down.”
He hears her groan and her voice becomes quieter, then disappears. He waits, and just when he thinks she may have hung up, she picks the phone back up.
“Hello?”
“Hey, did you unlock the door?”
“Mulder?”
“Yes, it’s me.”
“Mulder, where are you?”
He snickers a little. “I’m on my way over, did you unlock the door?”
“I...I don’t remember,” she says, and she sounds exhausted.
“That’s okay, go back to bed. I’ll figure it out. See you soon, okay?”
“Okay, bye, Mulder.”
He waits but the line doesn’t go dead. He hears her shuffle around a bit and then it’s quiet for a long time. Setting the phone on its cradle, he drives over to her apartment.
The door is, thankfully, unlocked, and all the lights are off.
“Scully?” he calls out, not wanting to scare her. “Scully, are you awake?”
When he gets no response, he slips off his shoes and makes his way to her bedroom, calling out her name intermittently. He finds her twisted up in her sheets, and one touch to her forehead has him jerk his hand away with how hot she is. He strips the blankets off of her, finding her in only a T-shirt and panties underneath. Next he finds a washcloth in the bathroom and soaks it with cold water, then grabs two Tylenol and a glass of water. When he returns to the bedroom and drapes the cloth over her forehead, she starts and opens her eyes momentarily, but then closes them again.
“Scully,” he says softly, shaking her shoulder, “I need you to wake up, honey. I need you to take these.”
Her eyes open slowly and she blinks at him with heavy lids.
“Mulder?” she asks groggily, and he gives her a sympathetic smile.
“I’m here. Can you sit up and take these?”
He helps her prop herself up just enough to swallow the Tylenol and a sip of water before she collapses back against the pillows.
“I feel like shit,” she complains, but her eyes are already closed and she’s on her way back to sleep.
“I know. Get some rest. I’ll be here.”
———
She wakes up to harsh beams of sun pouring directly through her eyelids. Her first thought is that Ethan forgot to close the blinds again, but then she remembers that she and Ethan aren't together anymore and he doesn’t live here, so she must have forgotten to close them. She moves to roll out of bed and is met with the shock of aching muscles, and remembers that she had been raging with fever last night. She probably shouldn’t have let Missy leave, but thankfully the fever seems to have broken during the night. She rolls away from the window, no longer motivated to get up and close the blinds, and finds herself nose to nose with a sleeping Mulder.
“What the hell?” she says out loud, and he opens his eyes and smiles at her.
“Hi,” he says softly, “how do you feel?”
She gives him a perplexed expression. “Confused. How long have you been here?”
He chuckles “I knew you were out of it, but I didn’t think you were that far gone. You don’t remember?”
She shakes her head ruefully.
Mulder rolls to his back and stretches, then turns back to face her. “You called me last night, totally out of it, and I came over to make sure you were okay.”
“How did you get in?” she asks skeptically.
“You let me in.”
Her eyes widen.
“You were burning up, I just force fed you some Tylenol and kept an eye on you. Around 3am you started shivering, so I think that’s when the fever broke.”
She is quiet for a moment, taking in her surroundings. “Mulder...am I not wearing pants?”
He holds up his hands in self defense. “That’s how I found you, Scully, Scout’s honor.”
“What time is it?” she asks, feeling disoriented.
He peeks at his watch. “A little after nine.”
She sits up too quickly and gets dizzy. “I’m late for work,” she says, one hand to her head.
“Scully you were delirious with fever six hours ago, you’re not going to work. I called for you,” he says, sitting up too.
She gives him an incredulous look. “You called out sick to work for me?”
He nods.
She sighs and looks away from him. “I got the soup, and the note,” she says, “thank you.”
“Of course,” he answers, rubbing a palm over her back.
She looks back at him, taking in his sleep rumpled hair and second day stubble. She furrows her brow, a slight scowl on her mouth.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“You’re my boyfriend, aren’t you?” she says with a defeated tone, and he laughs.
“I’d sure like to be, if you’ll have me.”
She groans and slumps against him, sighing as he wraps his arms around her, petting her hair.
“Okay, fine,” she says flatly.
“Well don’t sound so excited about it,” he teases, and she pulls back and smiles at him.
“Thanks for taking care of me,” she says softly.
“Thanks for letting me,” he replies.
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in only a moment’s time: a tarlos fic
Carlos looks over his shoulder and connects some dots in his head. “There’s a flower shop two or three blocks down,” he recalls. “We can save time if I go pick up the ones we want for my mom while you finish here,” he suggests. “Or whoever finishes first can meet up with the other.”
“Yeah, that sounds good,” TK agrees and then returns the soft kiss Carlos brushes against his lips.
*
It was supposed to be a quick in and out at the florist before going to Andrea and Gabriel’s, but Carlos and TK’s day is quickly turned upside down and their plans ruined by a police chase gone wrong.
for bad things happen bingo: tarlos + ambulance ride
major character injury, hurt carlos reyes, worried tk strand, off duty injury, whump, angst, nonlinear narrative, gun violence, hopeful ending
3.7k | rated T | on ao3
thank you to jamie @firefighterreyes for reading through this and giving me feedback! and the title from I knew this would be love by imaginary future
*****
“You’re okay, Carlos. Stay with me, babe, stay with me,” TK pleads, ignoring how his voice breaks and instead tightens his hold on Carlos’s slack hand.
His bloody slack hand. And TK’s hand is covered in blood, too. It’s covered in Carlos’s blood. TK’s stomach churns and twists in an unnatural way when his eyes move from Carlos’s ashen face and land on the amount of blood coating their joint hands, staining their matching silver bands.
There’s so much blood. Carlos is losing so much blood.
But he doesn’t have much time to think about it because in the next moment, his head is quickly snapping up at the paramedic’s urgent voice. TK watches with horror as Carlos’s vitals drop dangerously and his own heart sinks into his knees.
The ambulance starts to move, the sirens wailing in its wake as they speed towards the hospital. TK watches the paramedic work frantically from the corner of his eye, work to stabilize Carlos but TK can’t really spare him a full glance, his attention solely focused on Carlos.
The officer’s skin is pale and clammy, beads of sweat collecting on his forehead and his breaths coming short and quick, fogging up the oxygen mask covering most of his face. Tears build in TK’s eyes, terrified he’s about to lose Carlos.
He feels helpless, he feels that Carlos is slipping right through his fingers and—
No. He can’t lose Carlos. He can’t.
TK can’t help but wonder if there were anything he could have done differently, if anything could have changed this outcome. If anything done differently could have made it so that Carlos wasn’t currently lying on a gurney, barely stable.
TK can’t control his mind when it takes him back in time. When it takes him just thirty minutes back in time, when he and Carlos were walking side by side, holding hands and laughing, the silver spark TK loves glittering in his fiancé’s eyes. And now Carlos is fighting for his life, now TK can’t see that spark and it feels like his own light is slowly fading away…
*****
“We have space in the fridge, right?” Carlos asks, he and TK stopping to stand in line to use the ATM.
TK thinks back for a moment before nodding. “Yeah.”
“Good, because you know mom will be packing up some food for us to take home with us,” Carlos chuckles. “I think she automatically adds portions for us while she makes lunch.”
TK nods, a smile spreading on his face. “Her food is amazing.”
“It is,” Carlos agrees. “And the food she packs for us lasts a while, makes me think I could stop cooking and we can just have her food.”
“Carlos Reyes, that implication wounds me, don’t you dare stop cooking,” TK gasps, playfully hitting Carlos’s shoulder. “As much as I love your mom’s food, and trust me, I do love your mom’s food, your cooking has a special place in my heart.”
Carlos chuckles again, lifting their connected hands to brush a kiss to TK’s knuckles. “Well, in that case…”
TK’s smile widens, brilliant and bright. “I am excited to have lunch with your parents, it’s been a while.”
It was deemed near impossible for Carlos and TK’s schedules to line up together for a day off in the past month. They’ve both had hectic shifts that seemed to drag and never end, shifts that were always opposite each other. One of them gets home just as the other is about to leave, barely giving them time to spend together. Their time together was either spent taking a quick shower together or having breakfast or dinner before one of them had to dash out the front door with a soft kiss brushed to the other’s lips and a promise of I’ll be careful.
And aside from their frustration at the lack of quality time they had together, they were also pretty down by the fact they couldn’t go over to Andrea and Gabriel’s as it had been established.
Since their engagement, Carlos and TK would go over to the Reyes’ once a week and it had become a ritual all of them loved and looked forward to, until the misalignment of Carlos and TK’s schedules had broken what was becoming their tradition.
They would make it work when their schedules were in sync and even opted for breakfast or brunch when Carlos and TK had shifts on the days that worked best for Andrea and Gabriel. It was important for all four individuals to have that time together, for them to grow even closer and strength their relationship.
There were the infamous Sunday dinners at the Reyes ranch they go to as well, Carlos and TK always happy to see Tia Lucy and the rest of the Reyes family, and the feeling was reciprocated, with the family always happy to see the young couple, too. But they had regrettably missed a few of those, courtesy of their jumbled work lives. TK remembers coming home from shift to find Carlos on the phone with Tia Lucy, promising they’d make it to the first Sunday dinner their schedules allowed for.
And soon, it seemed a higher form was finally in Carlos and TK’s corners and they found themselves at the Reyes ranch the following Sunday.
“Mom and dad are really looking forward to it, too,” Carlos replies. “They really missed having us over. And mom is making your favorite.”
The line moves up just as Carlos’s phone pings in his pocket. He fishes it out and his smile widens at the screen.
“Mom just replied,” he tells TK. “They don’t need us to pick up anything on the way, she says they just want us to hurry over because they miss us.”
TK chuckles. “As soon as this line moves some more.”
Carlos looks over his shoulder and connects some dots in his head. “There’s a flower shop two or three blocks down,” he recalls. “We can save time if I go pick up the ones we want for my mom while you finish here,” he suggests. “Or whoever finishes first can meet up with the other.”
“Yeah, that sounds good,” TK agrees and then returns the soft kiss Carlos brushes against his lips.
Carlos squeezes TK’s hand before letting go and making his way down the street, almost speed walking down the block.
TK’s eyes follow Carlos until he disappears down the road and then moves up on more spot in line. He pulls his phone from his jeans back pocket and starts scrolling through his Instagram feed to kill some time while he waits.
TK isn’t sure how much time had passed by when the all-too familiar ring of a shot has TK’s head jerking up so fast he thinks he gives himself whiplash.
And with a sinking feeling, he realizes the sound came from the direction Carlos had walked in.
*****
The ambulance hits a small bump but TK barely feels it. He closes his eyes, sending a prayer that today isn’t the day he loses the love of his life.
He squeezes Carlos’s hand, his heart breaking some more at the lack of response from his fiancé. At the absence of his loving and comforting touch, at the absence of the warmth that always radiates so brightly from him. The warmth that has become TK’s home and his sanctuary.
Part of him is scared beyond words he’ll never get to feel that warmth again.
TK’s a paramedic and he knows Carlos is in rough shape, he knew the moment he found him. He’s seen this so many times, how quickly it happens, how—
TK shakes his head, he’s never given up on Carlos and he isn’t about to start now.
He does his best to expel those intruding thoughts and he faintly registers the paramedic’s voice saying they’re three minutes away from the hospital.
“Stay with me, babe,” TK whispers, his voice catching in his throat. “Please.”
Dread stirs in his stomach when Carlos’s numbers keep dropping, the only response he gets…
*****
Carlos had just finished paying for the bouquet when his ears pick up on the sound of commotion getting louder and louder outside. It’s a stark contrast to how calm and quiet it was when he first made his way to the shop. He frowns, quickly thanking the florist and makes his way out of the store.
The door hasn’t even fully closed behind him yet when he spots three uniformed officers running in his direction, and his eyes track their movement to find a middle aged man running ahead of them. He immediately recognizes him as the perpetrator, and the atmosphere around turns heavy and tense.
His training kicks in and his concern shifts to the civilians standing around. He wants to help get them to safety, to move and guide them away from this chase. There aren’t that many people but it’s still a considerable amount, but they start yelling and dispersing when they notice what’s going on.
It turns into chaos and the fact that any of them can get hurt, that an innocent person can get hurt, powers Carlos’s legs to move. He’s about to speak up while digging his hand into his pocket for his phone to call TK when he spots the gun in the perp’s hands.
The gun that is being waved around and is being aimed at the officers.
He follows the trajectory and Carlos’s eyes go wide when it leads straight to a little girl standing alone in the line of fire, fear etched on her features.
They make eye contact for a moment, Carlos immediately noticing the tears staining her cheeks and her shaking body. His heart pounds harshly against his ribcage and the next thing he knows, he’s in the middle of the sidewalk, directly in the line of fire, his body curled around the little girl and a loud bang is heard.
Everything is still and silent for a few seconds and Carlos doesn’t move.
And then he feels the pain, it comes all at once, spreading and flaring up through his entire body and tears start stinging in his eyes. He draws in a deep breath but the smallest of movements makes the agony worse, makes the fire in his nerves burn hotter and he feels paralyzed. He pushes through it, wanting to make sure the little girl is okay and that no one got hurt. He vaguely recognizes his own voice when he asks her if she’s okay and he only half registers her small nod in response.
His hand goes to the source of the pain and it comes back wet and sticky.
Add pressure, his tired head supplies. He does his best but he has to stifle a groan at the wave of pain that shocks his system.
His vision blurs, the sounds and voices around him fading away, even the ones coming to his aid and the ones yelling to call 911, it all feels so far away now. He sways dangerously to the side, losing his balance and then everything is sideways.
A moment later, his sight narrows and darkness creeps up on him. And his last thought before he gives into the darkness is a name.
TK.
*****
TK hears the paramedic in the front radio dispatch about Carlos’s condition, giving them live updates so the hospital is prepared when they arrive. He’s done that himself so many times, taking updates from Tommy and Nancy and had that back and forth with dispatch but it never had his hands shaking like they are now.
He sucks in a lungful of air and shakily exhales. He leans closer to Carlos, and even though his eyes are closed, TK hopes he can hear him.
“You’re going to be just fine, babe, I’m right here and I promise I’m not going anywhere. We’re almost at the hospital and they’re going to help you and you’ll be back on your feet in no time,” TK sniffs. “You’ll get better and we’ll continue planning the wedding, you know our parents have so many ideas and opinions and we gotta work through all of that together.
A little heavy voice at the back of TK’s head whispers, if you get to have a wedding…
TK silences it.
“I’m pretty sure your mom’s binder for the wedding is now twice the size it was last time,” TK lets out a wet chuckle, a tear rolling down his cheek. “I need you, babe, I need you so much and just…please, please, hang on.”
TK’s hand is still shaking when he reaches out and threads his fingers through Carlos’s soft and loose curls, TK loves them when they run wild. He then brushes a stray curl back from Carlos’s forehead, the same one that falls over the officer’s forehead when he sleeps. He brushes it back in the same manner he does on the rare occasion when he wakes up before Carlos, smiling when Carlos gravitates towards him even in his sleep upon his soft touch.
But Carlos isn’t asleep right now and TK is painfully aware of that fact by how cool Carlos’s skin feels and how still his body is. Carlos isn’t a fidgety sleeper, he doesn’t twist and turn often, he’s quite calm but there are small movements that TK had noticed over the years they've been together, small movements that are Carlos; a soft sigh, a light turn, nuzzling his face against the pillow, an arm tightening around TK’s middle, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the way Carlos’s eyes move a bit under his closed lids when he’s dreaming. And all of those little things are absent right now, their absence breaking TK at his core.
He wishes this were a dream, that he’d wake up and they’d be in their bed, safe and sound, wrapped in each other’s arms and he’d get to experience and witness all those little things again. He already misses Carlos’s touch.
But he knows this is reality, because if this were a dream, he would have woken up already.
It’s not a dream, but it is a nightmare.
*****
TK’s legs move on their own accord while his brain works on catching up with what he just heard. The logical side of his head tells him to wait, that maybe running in the direction of danger isn’t the best idea but he pushes it to the side, not giving it another moment of thought. He can’t. He needs to do one thing and that is getting to Carlos, to see him and to make sure he’s okay.
Something in his gut tells him that Carlos isn’t okay and that instinct has him breaking into a full sprint.
It’s easy to spot the group of people gathered around on the sidewalk and TK’s heart plumes into his stomach when he notices the havoc is right in front of the flower shop. He scans the crowd, hoping to catch a glimpse of his fiancé, any sign to tell him that he’s okay, but as the seconds tick by and he gets closer with no sign of Carlos, the hot pit in TK’s stomach gets bigger and bigger.
He knows Carlos would have jumped into action at hearing the gunshot, but he’s worried that that took a turn for the officer. That’s when TK’s eyes catch the blue of Carlos’s shirt through gaps between the crowd, the blue of the shirt TK loves, the blue that’s too close to the ground for it to be anything other than what TK had feared, what he felt in his gut since hearing the shot echo off the buildings and ring in his head.
He can’t control the mix of a gasp and sob that escapes him as he yells Carlos’s name.
“Carlos!” TK’s voice pierces even his own ears. “Let me through! He’s my fiancé!” He pushes through the crowd, fighting to get to Carlos as his heart rages in his chest. “Let me through! I’m a paramedic!”
TK finally breaks through the crowd, spotting the bouquet that’s now on the ground, the flowers scattered and broken. He wastes no time in dropping to his knees next to Carlos and pushing two fingers against his neck. He holds his breath, waiting for that thud…one, two, three. TK’s shoulder slightly sag forward when he finally feels Carlos’s heart beat against his fingers.
He can hear someone on the phone with 911 but it’s in the background, all his attention is on Carlos. The momentary relief at finding a pulse is quickly replaced with fear as TK registers the pool of blood already formed underneath the older man, staining the asphalt crimson.
The blood seeping out of a bullet wound in Carlos’s stomach.
Carlos’s head has lolled to the side, his eyes closed and no, no, no, this isn’t how the day was supposed to go, TK thinks as he clamps down both hands tightly over the wound, ignoring how his stomach twists at the sensation of Carlos’s blood seeping through his fingers.
“Carlos? Carlos, can you hear me?” TK speaks, hoping his voice is steadier than it sounds to him.
He presses down harder and the action has Carlos gasping, his eyes flying open and drawing in a deep breath which is immediately let out through a series of groans.
“Hey, babe, hey, look at me, look at me,” TK guides Carlos, who’s eyes roam around for a few moments before finding TK’s worried ones.
“TK,” Carlos breathes around another groan.
“I’m here, I’m right here, just focus on me,” TK continues, his eyes never leaving Carlos’s.
“Hurts…tired,” Carlos whispers, his eyes beginning to close again.
“No, no, you have to stay awake, babe,” TK doesn’t hold back the panic anymore as it coats his words. “I know it hurts and that you’re tired, but you have to stay awake for me, can you do that?”
And when has Carlos ever been able to refuse TK anything? So he slowly nods, fighting against the pull back into the darkness and focuses on TK.
“‘m sorry…”
TK’s eyebrows knit together. “For what?”
Instead of replying, Carlos uses all the energy he has to lift his hand and places it over TK’s.
TK doesn’t need words to know what Carlos means, to know what Carlos is saying. They don’t need words to understand each other, their connection much deeper than that. TK’s heart breaks some more at the realization that Carlos is saying goodbye.
“Hey, no, no,” TK shakes his head. “Don’t say goodbye, we’re not done yet, you hear me? There’s still so much for us to do together, to experience together and this isn’t the end. It can’t be, I won’t let it be. We can’t lose all that we are and all that we will be. Just stay with me, baby.”
Tears are now streaming freely down TK’s face and he doesn’t move to wipe them and where is the ambulance?
Carlos lets out a shaky sigh and he barely responds when TK’s hands press down even more on his stomach in hopes of controlling the bleeding.
The lack of response from Carlos has TK’s blood running cold.
“I’m scared,” Carlos’s voice breaks, the tears swimming in his eyes bringing out the brown of his irises.
“I’m right here, I’ll be right by your side, I’m not going anywhere,” TK is quick to reassure him. “I won’t let go.”
Carlos blinks and sends a tear rolling down the side of his face, disappearing into his hair.
“Can you…” Carlos starts but pauses to breathe. “My parents…they…our day…”
“Don’t worry about that, I’ll take care of it, I promise. And we’ll have plenty more days with them. Just save your strength, okay?”
And then the air around them is filled with the sound of incoming sirens, far away but getting closer by the second.
“You hear that, babe? Help is almost here,” TK says and moves to plant a kiss to Carlos’s forehead. “Hold on, babe, hold on,” he whispers against Carlos’s skin. “I love you so much.”
“Love…you,” Carlos replies with a hitch in his voice.
And when TK pulls back and looks down, Carlos’s eyes had drifted shut.
“No, no,” TK’s tone is laced with desperation and fear. “Open your eyes, Carlos, open your eyes…baby…”
He doesn’t hold back the wail that tears through his throat when Carlos’s eyes eyes remain closed.
TK still fights against the thought that Carlos had said goodbye.
*****
It’s a fury of action when the ambulance comes to a halt at the Emergency Room entrance. The doors are ripped open and a doctor and two nurses are standing by the rig. The information starts rolling off the paramedic’s tongue as he gives them a rundown of Carlos’s condition and injury.
TK is frozen in place, hearing the words but they’re not quite sinking in as the other paramedic jumps out of the front and rounds the ambulance. The two paramedics get Carlos out and TK watches as they push the gurney into the ER, moving quickly through the sliding door and through the hallways. TK knows he should follow but he still can’t get himself to step out of the ambulance.
Instead, he repeats the words he heard over and over in his head.
Vitals low but stabilized, bleeding controlled…
He feels his knees go weak and scared he’s going to topple over, he falls back onto the small cushioned seat.
He thinks about the promise he made Carlos and suddenly his phone feels very heavy in his pocket. He knows he has to make that call, he knows it’s going to break his heart all over again and he doesn’t know if he can get through that call without breaking down. But he will pull his phone out of his pocket. He will dial the number but right now, he can’t tear his gaze away from his closed fist. After what feels like an eternity, he slowly opens his palm and a choked sob echoes inside the ambulance.
TK stares at the ring sitting in his hand, Carlos’s ring.
He tilts his hand and the sun catches the engraved words written inside, Yours forever
He closes his hand again and brings his fist to rest over his heart, feeling it thump against his own skin.
TK prays he’ll get to slip the ring back onto Carlos’s finger and Carlos will reply with the smile that’s reserved for only him.
And eight days later, he does and the smile Carlos gives him brings the light back into TK’s world.
#911 lone star#911 lone star fic#tarlos#tarlos fic#911lsfic#actuallysara#userkimmy#tuserjamie#userjillian#userthai#tuserpaige#tuserems#kirassunshine#morganaspendragonss#reyeslonestartag#bellakitse#reyesstrand#tuserjenny#bad things happen bingo#*gif#hello! 500 years later i'm back!#writer's block really had a hold on me#but its good to be back#and thank you sara for the prompt!#i hope you enjoy this babe!#i hope you all enjoy!
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Don’t - Tyson Jost
AN: this has been in my notes for like 6-7 months now I hope you enjoy! It’s based if the song don’t by Ed Sheeran.
Warnings: cheating and a mention of sex nothing detailed at all.
Word count: 1.9k
I met this girl late last year
She said, “Don’t you worry if I disappear”
“Yes.” That's the response Layla whispered in Tyson’s ear after he asked her to spend the night with him. As he planted more open mouth kisses to her neck, Tyson could feel her breath quicken and her plus racing up.
Tyson wasn't expecting to be taken back by the stunning brunette with green eyes who he locked eye contact with as she was busy dancing in the corner with her girlfriends when he went to the local bar Monday night with the boys for a simple night of relaxing. When they bumped into one other at the counter and she introduced herself to him while grabbing a drink, he wasn't expecting his heart to race a little quicker. He hadn't expected to be bringing her home at the end of the night, yet here he was, holding her hand as they climbed into the car he had booked for them.
What Tyson really wasn't prepared for was the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach when he woke up to an empty bed and a piece of paper on his nightstand with only 11 numbers scribbled on it.
I told her I’m not really looking for another mistake
I called an old friend thinking that the trouble would wait.
Tyson realized he should've tossed the little letter away as soon as he got off the phone with JT who reminded him to think with his head and recommend throwing it away. But Tyson, on the other hand, was always one to follow his emotions rather than his mind or gut instincts. After all, he was known as a softy for a reason. His head was telling him that he should simply toss the paper away since it was just going to cause him misery. His emotions, on the other hand, were reminding him of how he felt last night when he made eye contact with her. They were reminding him of how his heart raced and how he felt a nervous pulse in his stomach for the first time in a long time.
So, four mornings after waking up to an empty bed, he decided to take the plunge and message her. He realized that texting her at 11:00 a.m. would not lead her to believe it was a booty call. Tyson opted to keep it short and sweet, only saying, "Hey, how are you?" And before he could back out, he sent the message, not realizing how drastically those four words would impact his year.
It was 10:45 p.m., according to the clock. Tyson had become increasingly nervous as Layla had yet to reply. He was thinking to himself, what if he had waited too long, what if she had just left the note out of kindness and didn't mean it? But his phone vibrated in his hand just as he was about to turn it off and put it away for the night. And there was a text message from Layla on his phone screen, saying, "I'm okay, what's up?" “Have you finally missed me enough to send a text?” Tyson felt the blood rush to his checks at that moment, as he hoped she didn't realize how long he had been waiting, but she did. Tyson decided to make up for the fact that he hadn't spoken to her in four days, so he spent the rest of the night getting to know the lovely woman he thought had a good heart.
But then I jumped right in a week later, returned
I reckon she was only looking for a lover to burn
Tyson decided to invite Layla over after about a week of talking with her through his phone and tossing the idea around in his head. He had all of the spare time in the world before heading to Alberta since the Avs season had just ended.
Tyson had discovered recently she was a CU Denver student. So when they agreed on a Saturday, Tyson realized she wouldn't have classes, so he wouldn't have to worry about her cancelling, but he was still worried that she wouldn't actually show up. When a soft knock came to his door around 1:00 p.m., those nerves faded.
When Tyson awoke to an empty bed on the Tuesday morning he was supposed to leave for home, he wasn't surprised. Tyson found himself going to bed with someone and waking up alone more often after that Saturday afternoon spent with Layla at his place.
Then I put it on pause until the moment was right
I went away for months until our paths crossed again
After waking up alone on that Tuesday morning when he had to leave, Tyson wanted to put some space between himself and the situation. Tyson knew that if he went down that particular road with Layla, his heart wouldn't be able to heal if anything bad happened. Tyson tried not to think about her during his time in Alberta, but it became more difficult with each passing day. Tyson found his feelings growing towards her each day. He found himself thinking about her at odd times throughout the day, hanging with his family? Layla. Sitting around the fire pit? Layla. in bed right before he closed his eyes? Layla. She was an addiction, the kind you get when you try a new treat and can't stop thinking about it.
Tyson promised himself he wouldn't message her again until he returned to Colorado, and he kept his word. He'd been back in the city for about three weeks before he decided to pick up where they'd left off.
She told me, "I was never looking for a friend
Maybe you could swing by my room around ten
Baby, bring the lemon and a bottle of gin
We'll be in between the sheets 'til the late AM"
After several late-night phone calls to catch up, Layla eventually told Tyson what this meant to her after he invited her to dinner. “Around 1:00 a.m. on a Monday morning, she muttered to him, "I'm more into the friends with benefits situation right now." Tyson was definitely devastated but he was willing to take whatever Layla had to offer.
Tyson was unprepared for the feeling he got when he glanced down at his phone after leaving JT’s apartment to see a text that said, "baby, I'm swinging by your place with a bottle." Tyson knew that meant he'd wake up alone in the morning, yet he didn't care at the time.
Tyson and Layla had been seeing each other more and more in recent weeks. Tyson’s feelings for Layla became stronger over time, but he never expressed them. He just loved her company, and if that meant getting lost in the sheets more often than not, so be it.
And for a couple weeks I only wanna see her
We drink away the days with a takeaway pizza
Tyson was in a slump, he wasn't producing on the ice as he wanted to, and the media was branding him a draft bust because of it. As a result, he found himself blocking others out, with the exception of one individual. Tyson discovered that Layla was the only one he truly wished to be with. She didn't mention hockey at all, because they could easily lose themselves in each other and block out the rest of the world. They'd eat as much takeout pizza as Tyson's diet permitted.
Yet something changed between them in those few weeks. Layla confessed to developing feelings for the curly-haired boy. As a result, they opted not to label what they were doing, but they did promise not to see other people. Not that Tyson was doing so before.
Wish I'd have written it down, the way that things played out
When she was kissing him, how I was confused about
Now she should figure it out.
Tyson should have known something was wrong when Layla started staying at school longer than usual, but he didn't think much of it, assuming it was just finals. Tyson should have known something was wrong because she took longer to respond to his text messages and began avoiding his phone calls, but he was so wrapped up in the feeling she gave him that he didn't notice. When Layla failed to pick him up from the airport on Sunday morning, Tyson should have known something was wrong, but he just convinced himself she slept in.
But two things happened when the car he ordered from the airport arrived in front of Layla's apartment and he saw her kissing the kid from her biology class: one, Tyson's heart dropped to the bottom of his stomach, and two, something clicked and everything made sense to him.
That afternoon, at Tysons' place, he had to have a conversation he would never forget .Layla explained that she genuinely wanted to be with him and that she was just messing around with Tyler, the name of the kid from biology, because she wanted to be official with Tyson. And in a relationship, she puts a significant importance on trust and respect.
So they agreed to become an official couple that day, and the eight weeks that followed were some of the happiest memories Tyson had managed to make.Tyson grew more and more in love with Layla with each passing day, and he indulged in it. He treasured the cuddles and long conversations late at night. Tyson was certain he was in love with Layla, or Ly as he began to refer to her. He was about to reveal her to the group of people in his life that he held in high regard: his teammates.
She was crying on my shoulder, I already told ya
Trust and respect is what we do this for
I never intended to be next
But you didn't need to take him to bed, that's all
And I never saw him as a threat
Until you disappeared with him to have sex, of course
Tyson wasn't expecting to see Layla on the sofa on top of Tyler from biology when he stepped into Layla's apartment on the morning of the 23rd, three days before their three-month anniversary, ready to celebrate because he'd be on the road. But that is precisely what he saw.
Layla didn't know she'd been caught until the beautiful white roses fell to the ground and the door slammed shut from behind her.
As the knock on Tyson's door rang through the silent apartment, Tyson knew that all that had occurred in the previous year, his best days, and the one person he could turn too would all be gone in less than 20 minutes.
Tyson had never expected to have a conversation like this one in his dark, relatively clean apartment. When Layla cried on his shoulder, he reminded her of their compromise on trust and respect, telling her, "If you were unhappy, you should have left, I never saw him as a threat, well, before you slept with him of course."
But after all of the screaming and pleading, Layla gathered her belongings and closed the door to Tyson's apartment; the sound that echoed in the house was almost close to Tyson's heart beating in his chest.
As Tyson came into the dressing room the next morning, feeling dishevelled, he grumbled to JT that he should have just thrown it out.
#tyson jost fanfiction#tyson jost x reader#tyson jost fic#tyson jost blurb#tyson jost imagine#tyson jost#colorado avalanche#avs#jt compher#nhl writing#nhl blurb#nhl fanfiction#nhl fic#nhl imagine#nhl#my writing
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my sunday
requested: no
group: blackpink
pairing: jisoo x fem!reader
genre: fluff
contents: school!au, based on loona’s my sunday mv.
warnings: none
synopsis: Jisoo is what makes your Sundays so very special.
a/n: I WROTE SOMETHING. I DID IT!!!!! (please don’t mind the typos in this, i legitimately wrote this in an hour and posted it immediately)
word count: 1.4k
Sundays were the most special day of the week to you.
Well, it wasn’t just you. They were special to all of the students at Gyeongseong Boarding School; there, Sundays were free days, the only day out of the week where students were free to leave the campus or roam it with no restrictions. But to you, Sundays were special for a different reason-- they were a special memory, with an even more special girl.
Jisoo was one out of your four roommates, but that was nowhere close to how you’d describe her. A friend, maybe, or even a best friend. You weren’t sure how you’d phrase it if you were asked why you looked at her like she was your entire life, why you thought any disease could be cured by just one look at her smile.
But if she asked you, you knew that you’d tell her that she was everything perfect, the only star in your dark sky, yet bright enough to illuminate your entire world. And ever since that handshake on your first day in Gyeongseong, she was your Sunday, the diamond in a sea of worthless coal.
“Y/N? Get up, we’re here.”
Despite never having been asleep, you faked an overexaggerated yawn and tilted further into Jisoo’s neck. She laughed breathily, finger poking right into your forehead. “I know you aren’t asleep, dumbass.”
You sighed and lifted your head at that. Even through your bleary vision, you couldn’t miss the heart shape of her grin, and your cheeks flushed pink despite all the times you’d seen it before. “Fine. Has the bus stopped?”
“No, actually,” Jisoo answered and turned to the front. “My shoulder was just tired.”
Punching her arm lightly, you glanced out the window, at the morning sunlight shining down on the dingy storefronts and faded brick walls of the city. It was the same as always-- after all, you and Jisoo took the same bus at the same time every Sunday, even sat in the exact same seats every time. But as the bus lurched to a stop at the same grimy metal sign as always, and you stood with Jisoo’s hand in yours, the view was just as beautiful as it had been the first Sunday that Jisoo brought you down the hill with her. “Are we going for ice chocolate again?” she asked as you stepped out of the bus, leaning slightly on her so as not to fall on the crooked last step.
“I’ll never say no to ice chocolate,” you answered absentmindedly. The slight January breeze was icy on your face, but Jisoo didn’t seem to mind even in her short skirt. “Rock paper scissors again to determine who pays?”
She considered it but shook her head, grinning, “Race” one second before she turned and bolted for the ice cream shop just down the street.
“H-- cheater!”
You still laughed as you chased her, feet pounding against the ground even while you shouted after her. “Kim Jisoo, just you wait until I get my hands on you!”
“I wish I brought my camera,” the other girl sighed as she looked out to the ocean. It wasn’t much in your opinion, more gray than blue, the waves crashing onto dusty brown sands where the water met the beach. But Jisoo still watched it with appreciating eyes, working away slowly at her iced chocolate. “Would’ve made for a pretty shot.”
“You can always get it next week,” you shrugged in answer. Your own cup was empty, sitting to your left on the slightly sandy stone wall that the two of you were perched on. “I mean, we come here every week.”
Jisoo smiled, “But it’s different every week. It could be sunnier, or maybe rainy; either way, it’s still beautiful.”
“You’re cheesy as hell.” You rolled your eyes, reaching for her iced chocolate but blocked by her free hand. “I’ll still come here every Sunday with you, even if it rains.”
She nodded, biting down on the spoon in her mouth and swinging her legs over the wall. “Remember that time in 2nd year? You insisted on coming even though it snowed, and we had to explain to our roommates why they had to live in other rooms so they wouldn’t catch a cold from us.”
“That was kinda stupid. But at least we got the room to ourselves for a week,” you grinned. “We should do it again, get Chaeng, Lisa, and Jen to annoy room 244 for a change.”
“That’s mean,” Jisoo shook her head. “But I like the way you think.”
“I mean,” you continued, “with all of them in the room, we wouldn’t get to do this.”
“Do what?” she asked, turning despite knowing exactly what you were going to do. And predictably, you kissed her, soft and slow, savoring it while you could. Her lips were cold from the weather and from the dessert, but they were as soft and sweet as ever as they moved against yours. Jisoo’s hand clasped in yours again, intertwined and pressed to the stone of the wall as she leaned in a bit closer.
Before someone could call you out or recognize you, though, you parted, teeth letting go of her bottom lip with a pop. When Jisoo looked down, she found the cup of iced chocolate to be in your hand instead of hers, the spoon already in your mouth as you grinned. “Y/N, that’s a foul,” she complained. But she didn’t try to wrestle for it back, simply watching you with a sigh.
After a beat of comfortable silence, the quiet murmur of people passing by only ambient noise in the background, Jisoo spoke again. “You know, my brother called yesterday. He wanted to know if I got a boyfriend yet.”
You snorted in laughter and shook your head. “Right, we’re graduating soon. What’d you tell him?”
“I told him that I’ll date when I get into college,” she sighed.
“Hey. Are we not dating?” you pouted, snickering when she tossed a napkin at your head. “I know, I know. Korea’s conservative, your brother’s conservative. We would’ve gotten hit if someone saw us just a bit earlier.”
Jisoo frowned, toying with your fingers in hers. “You’re right. Y/N... If you had to introduce me as something, what would you say?”
“Well, the obvious. You’re my roommate,” you smiled, “and my best friend. But... you’re also my Sunday.”
“Your Sunday? I don’t think I’ve heard that one before.” Jisoo looked up, and you could barely hold yourself from leaning in and kissing her again. The slightly grayish tone of Gyeongseong’s sun did wonders for her features, illuminating the curve of her cheek and the tip of her nose just enough to make her look like a literal angel. “Care to explain?”
You hesitated for a second and tapped the plastic spoon against the plastic of the cup in your hands. “Do you remember the first time you explained the concept of Gyeongseong Sundays to me? You couldn’t explain why you liked coming down to the same beach every weekend with your friends, so you decided to just take me with you.”
“Right,” Jisoo snapped her fingers, nodding. “And when I asked you afterwards what you thought of Gyeongseong Sundays, you told me that they were special. The one red licorice in a bag of black, the rose in a bouquet of thorns. You were poetic then, and even more so now.”
“I’ll take it as a compliment,” you laughed slightly. “But yeah. Since almost four years ago, we’ve spent every Sunday together, every one of our rare, perfect, special days. So you’re my Sunday. You're the one that makes my day special, and you shine like the tiny stars we watch from the rooftops.”
After taking a quick glance at the empty streets around you, Jisoo’s fingertips ghosted over your jawline again before her lips were on yours and everything faded. You could feel her smile, could taste the sheer contentment in the pressure between the two of you. And when she pulled away, that simple happiness still lit up her eyes, even when she turned to look at the gray-blue sea again. “Okay. Then I’ll be your Sunday. Your Sunday love.”
#blackpink#blackpink x reader#blackpink imagines#blackpink scenarios#blackpink reactions#blackpink in your area#blackpink is the revolution#blackpink jisoo#kim jisoo#jisoo#jisoo x reader#jisoo imagines#jisoo scenarios#jisoo icons#blackpink icons#girl group imagines#girl group scenarios#girl group reactions#blackpink layouts#blackpink kim jisoo
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So when he rolled up to the nurse’s station at 6PM just before she gave report to night shift, a stolen pudding cup in hand and cheeks rosy from the cold chill of Gibby’s hospital room. Harry grins at her, “Let me drive you to my place, yeah? I’m making dinner tonight.”
Her brows raise, a smile teases her mouth as she finishes writing down a cheat sheet for each room that she can give to the nurse coming in (she’s a bit new, and doesn’t know the flow of the floor very well yet, so Y/N tries to help when she can) “Yeah? Didn’t know you could cook.”
A gasp leaves him, “Oi, of course I can cook! I could make a Sunday roast that would put any Nan on the block to shame.”
or
Y/N gets everything she’s ever wanted (Harry does too)
part 1
part 2
part 3
part 4
part 5
part 6
vii.
“Holy fuck.”
Y/N had been equal parts nervous and excited when Harry invited her to his flat, a mere four days after they returned from Sweden. In all their time together, and in what they had gone through in the past few months, Y/N had not even so much as been extended the offer to go to his flat, let alone actually be privy to it. To no fault of his own -- Y/N reckons that the last thing on his mind was a tour of his home when someone was threatening to rob their company blind and murder his boss -- but that never meant she wasn’t curious.
She was excited because she thrived off visiting people’s places for the first time and learning what their decorating techniques consisted of. Ever since they’d started chatting past the nurse/family relationship, Y/N had been intrigued to know what his place looked like, and would even theorize about it sometimes if she had a moment to spare. Harry had very offhandedly mentioned that he had a Tanuki statue stationed to the right of his door as soon as you walked in, and Y/N (who also had a Tanuki statue) had her interest piqued immediately. Did she and Harry have similar decorating styles or just equivalent odd taste in staple items? Was that his only piece of decoration?
Some boys she considered complete psychopaths and had barren walls besides maybe a flag or a singular sports poster -- that’s why she’s nervous. Hell, she’d love him all the same if he was repping a Manchester football poster but visiting his flat would be a bit of a struggle.
So when he rolled up to the nurse’s station at 6PM just before she gave report to night shift, a stolen pudding cup in hand and cheeks rosy from the cold chill of Gibby’s hospital room. Harry grins at her, “Let me drive you to my place, yeah? I’m making dinner tonight.”
Her brows raise, a smile teases her mouth as she finishes writing down a cheat sheet for each room that she can give to the nurse coming in (she’s a bit new, and doesn’t know the flow of the floor very well yet, so Y/N tries to help when she can) “Yeah? Didn’t know you could cook.”
A gasp leaves him, “Oi, of course I can cook! I could make a Sunday roast that would put any Nan on the block to shame.”
“Better watch your mouth, Miss. Gregory has a keen sense of hearing and would beg to differ.” She clicks her pen shut, looking up to where he was leaning against the counter, “I’ll let you drive me, yeah, but can we stop by my place so I can grab Ubbe and a change of clothes? Reckon you don’t want the scent of hospital clouding your flat.”
‘Yes we can stop to grab Ubbe, no you may not grab any clothes. Want you in mine.”
Y/N pulls her bottom lip into her mouth, fixing a response for him in her head but Johnathan just about trips over himself with a convenience store cappuccino and a reusable grocery bag with his lunch, “I’m so sorry m’late, my bloody dog decided he was going to wee on my scrubs.”
“Well, I hope you changed out of them.” Harry notes and Y/N snorts, rolling her eyes before she rolls her chair over to him and starts her shift report.
Things had been calm since they returned from Sweden. Or as calm as they can be post-kidnapping, attempted murder, gang fiasco they had encountered there. When Y/N saw Gibson after it had happened, he pulled her into his body closely and squeezed her tight enough that she had a bit of trouble breathing. Y/N couldn’t lie, she was immensely happy to see him, and despite what she had learned about his relationship between him and his son, she let herself enjoy the cuddle. Even the kiss that he pushed to her temple, before holding tight on her shoulders, “I am not a man who fears many things,” he had started slowly, “Nor am I a man who cares about many things, but you -- I care about you,” he cradles her cheeks in his palms, patting it gently, “I’m glad you’re safe.”
Gibson -- just as Harry -- had a knack for making her feel like a very important addition to their lives. He was relieved to know that she would be his main nurse for the day, and Y/N it’s so he could keep an eye on her. She couldn’t fault him for it though because she beckons Harry around so that she can keep an eye on him. Niall doesn’t think anything is out of the ordinary regarding it, since they usually traveled in something short of a pack. The only reference to the night before that he made (other than asking about her hand, which she had promptly explained that she drunkenly broke a vase and tried to clean it up with her hands) was squeezing her shoulders and uttering, “Champagne turns you into a lightweight, ey? Harry treat you right?” Harry smiled a bit to himself and Y/N cleared her throat, tucking the hair behind her ear.
“Tucked me in, got me water, nursed my hangover, the whole nine.”
Niall patted Harry on the shoulder, “Nice then, mate. Hear one thing about you hurtin’ her and I’ll have to do ya in.”
Harry pouted, “What’s with all the threats my way?”
The night before had felt surreal; a bad, hyper-realistic dream that stuck with her like syrup to a plate. There wasn’t much on the agenda for them since the wedding had passed so they all kind of lingered in Niall and Gibson’s room. They ordered room service, rented a horror film (Gibson was something short of a horror buff, it turned out), and relaxed for the first time in a very long time. It felt like everyone had collectively let out a sigh (apart from Niall, who remained blissfully unaware and fast asleep most of the day).
Harry allowed the others to love upon her for a majority of the time they spent in Gibson’s room. She alternated from being close to where Gibson sat, to leaning against Mickey, and hell she even hung out with Niall a bit when he bothered to wake up. The only bits alone they had together were when she would take Ubbe out for a wee, which normally Mickey might want to accompany her during, but Harry was insistent that he be the one. Had practically pushed her over attempting to get up before Mickey could even think to say that he wanted to go, which he later apologized for.
“I just. . .it won’t be like this for long, but I just -- I wanna be near you, y’know?”
She did know -- because she didn’t want him out of her sight. The few moments that she had to spend, leaving him behind with someone who would ( did) harm him given the chance -- she couldn’t stand it. Could have crawled out of her skin even -- and she knows he must have felt the same, if not worse. Y/N was even more thankful now than ever that they were sharing a hotel room.
Because by the end of the night, when Y/N gave Gibson his nighttime meds, tucked Niall in, and pecked a kiss to Mickey’s scruffy cheek -- they got to flee together. Popped open the door to their room, Ubbe ran in first and beat them to the bed, and Harry suggested a cheeky shower together which -- well, Y/N said if he didn’t mind her in a shower cap (she couldn’t be arsed to wash her hair) then they could go right ahead and do it.
So they did, and Y/N doesn’t think she’s ever been this close with someone before. She helps him tie a plastic baggy over his thigh so that the bandage didn’t get wet before she changed it, and in turn, he helped her tie her own around her hand, “It’s good that I’m here, hm? How else would you clean this arm if you didn’t have me?”
“Niall is dexterous enough.” She teased him.
“I can assure you that I’m far more adept with my fingers than Niall.”
Nothing but bare, smooth skin that their hungry eyes drink each other in. Harry had a lot of tattoos and she can’t help but outline them with her gaze, though she does attempt not to let them wander too far downward -- she would feel bad to stare at his bits, even if he was getting a good look at hers. She did take a whack at his peachy bottom when he leaned over to turn the shower on, and he squeaked, putting his hand over it palm outward, “Aish, that hurt!” Y/N went for him again, a little harder on the other cheek until he straightened out and pivoted, looking at her with furrowed brows, “I’ll spank your bum, see how you like it.”
(Y/N reckons she would like it.)
The shower had been good; it was hot, steamy, and they hadn’t even done anything sexual. They just enjoyed one another, soaked in the hot pelts of water against their skin as they both took turns with who was in the direct line of the water. Harry cleaned her, sudsed her up with strawberry-scented soap, and made her all bubbly before nudging her back into the water. He sang obnoxiously loud, ticked her when he could, and he did get her back with a few swats on her wet bum, leaving a resounding smack that bounced off the walls in an echo. She had fun, and when he bent down to slide their lips together for an innocent little peck, she was over the moon.
It was just good to be with him, and she was happy that her feelings were finally able to be expressed. And he had almost immediately quelled her worries when she thought that maybe this was just a Sweden thing -- maybe they would go home, Harry would not feel the need to be around her constantly since the initial threat had been dealt with and he could go on about his normal life. When she really thought about it, she was sort of just a wrench in his normal plans -- an unnecessary addition and disruption, having accidentally gotten involved in their whole scenario.
But almost as soon as they landed, an hour or two after they had all parted ways to unpack and destress, Harry rang her phone and when she answered she got a, “I don’t think m’quite ready to not be around you 24/7 -- can I come over?”
With a grin that threatened to split her cheeks, she told him to hurry up.
While things were calm now, Y/N still strayed from going out too late at night or lollygagging when she went on her walks with Ubbe. She’s cautious still, of course, but it doesn’t feel like she has to keep looking over her shoulder. They were still taking care of some things, tying off the problem with a nice, neat little bow, and figuring out the semantics of what Elias had left behind with the people he’d hired. From what she understood they were paying them off with a suitable amount to make sure whatever they had discovered or heard wouldn’t be discussed, along with the looming threat that they had actually kidnapped her, and they shouldn’t be a problem any longer. Especially given the fact that they had no emotional ties to the whole situation.
There were still a few questions she might have and confusion on some parts of what happened, but Harry opens up and explains it to her if she asks him anything.
And now she was outside his flat, after climbing seven flights of steps with an ecstatic Ubbe who was beside himself with the new smells. It was a nice area -- a rich one, at that -- the kind of place that she would press her nose up against the window glass as they pass, before looking it up later and realizing that it’s a month’s salary for rent alone. The outer exterior was all sleek and white, about a thousand windows that decorated the building and peered into the lives of the residents. There were balconies as well, each flat had one and from where she could see when they were driving around it toward the parking garage, they were evenly spaced far apart from each other. Which she reasoned that they would be decently large on the inside.
They could have taken the elevator but Y/N felt too guilty to drag Ubbe in when there was an older woman and her friends stepping in, so they took the stairs. When Y/N had suggested it she hadn’t known he was on the seventh fucking floor, but she trudged up and huffed every time he giggled and teased her, even though he huffed and puffed himself.
He was quick with his keys, the slide of the teeth into the lock was smooth and clicked in a fluid motion that she envied (she had to jiggle and jangle her own), but he paused before he twisted the knob, and turned toward her, “Listen -- this is. . .new for me. I don’t invite people over ever . . .not even like hookups or anything, so other than the movers and the occasional Mitch -- nobody else has been here. This is my own little safe space, y’know, I try not to sully it with all the shite I’m in but you -- I just can’t get the thought of you in here out of my head. Needed to see it for myself.”
Her heart was full upon entry, which she hadn’t known if that was his intent or if he just needed her to know beforehand that he wasn’t used to having other people in his flat and he might be a little squirrely. Either or, she leaned forward and nudged her forehead against his shoulder (her hands were full with a wriggling Ubbe so at the time it had been her only option to show affection). She was still a little nervous about initiating the kisses -- Harry was typically the one to initiate it and Y/N melts into them.
Harry opened his door and Y/N was almost immediately greeted with the beloved Racoon dog statue. He told her to go ahead and let Ubbe run amuck (he was her good boy though, he wouldn’t climb any couches or beds without explicitly being told he was allowed to) as she was looking around the small foyer-like entrance. Right away she could tell that Harry had somewhat of an eye for interior design -- everything was cohesive in color and sense of style, he easily put her flat to shame. The sofa was facing away from the door and loveseat was caddy corner to it, both large, and a light grey that looked incredibly pricey but lived on -- there were blankets rumpled atop of it like he might have napped there, the pillows only kind of positioned correctly on the couch. They sat on a rug that is a lighter grey in tone, atop of smooth pine flooring. Behind the sofa, there was a dark console table that stretched along the length of it with a modern square lamp on either end. To the left at the end of the couch, he had an electric fireplace installed into a wall of what appeared to be marble, and above it his tv was fixed to the wall, far bigger than what she was used to. His coffee table looked like it was made of black glass, magazines and books were halfheartedly thrown in the middle.
But what really takes her, that she’s trying to drink in entirely, is the wall of windows that is opposite of where she stood. It was clearly the way to the balcony that looked far larger than it did from the car, the panes of glass were so clear that she would probably slam right into them. They only stopped when it reached the kitchen, because of its open concept she could see it from where she stood and it was all sleek, marble counters and black appliances that all looked incredibly new. There was an island counter with bar stools that she reckons he eats at. On the opposite end of the flat, there was a hallway that she believes led to what she presumes was the rooms and bathrooms.
“Holy fuck.” That’s where she was now, her brows raised as she turned to face him, “We’ve been at my crowded, old, rickety flat when you’ve had this just laying around?”
His brows furrow deeply, “Oi, I love your flat. It’s cozy and comfortable, don’t you dare talk about her like that.”
Y/N is too enamored with what she’s seeing to pay much mind to his words. She’s looking around with her face permanently stuck with her lips in an ‘o’ as she looks up and around, taking in the artwork that he had chosen, how it smelled like him, the way it appeared well lived in yet still pristine and polished, “If I lived here, I reckon I wouldn’t leave,” she continues, reaching out, letting her fingertips stroke against the couch wondering how the material could just feel expensive, “I’d be one of those nurses that answers panicked calls from parents at like 3AM ‘cos their kid sneezed.”
A snort leaves him, but he shakes his head all the same, “S’not that great. Gets a bit lonely.” Her face is pressed against the cool glass of the windows, looking out on the dazzling lights that twinkle from the city below them, but his words and the sad inflection in his voice drags her from it. She turns to face him, where he’s setting his things down on his coffee table before sliding up beside her, “It looks much better with you stalking around it though.”
She laughs, leaning her head against his shoulder, “I’ll come stalk about whenever you want then.”
Harry maneuvers them, kisses his teeth to garner her attention before stealing her lips in a kiss when she turns to face him. Her nose scrunches up and she giggles -- he’d let his facial hair grow out some, and it tickled her face when he pressed their mouths together. She sinks into it though as she always does, and Harry can only kiss her for a few moments before he begins to smile against her, and withdraws, “Christ,” he pecks another kiss against her mouth, “Alright, I’ll show you how to operate my shower, and I’ll have some clothes out for you to change into. Will you teach me how I should wash your scrubs?”
His bathroom is just as modern and seemingly hi-tech as the rest of his flat. He surpasses the one in the hall in favor of taking her to his own through the master bedroom, which has a Hilma af Klint painting (he and Mitch have similar tastes), a bed the size of a room that she’d grown up in (it felt like at the very least) that was made, with a black comforter and about thirty thousand pillows. The headboard was large, rectangular, and a dark stained wood that his other furniture matched. Across from his bed, there is another TV affixed to the wall, with a screen saver of a night sky during a thunderstorm. It smells like lavender and Harry -- she’s comforted by it.
There’s a sleek, black tub, an entirely separate shower that came straight from the ceiling, his sink counter is large -- like, several people could keep their morning and nightly skincare routines on there. He shows her how to use the shower (there was a fucking touch screen on the wall that she used to decide the settings), makes a cheeky joke about watching her undress before he left her be to shower.
It was unlike any showering experience she’d ever had before. He showed her the rainfall setting, gave her a spare loofah to scrub with and he let her use the rose-scented body soap he had a huge container full of. She scrubbed her skin raw, washed away every bit of the day. Harry had told her there was a surprise about the towel when she was finished, which she was soon to find that he had a heated rack. The towel is warm, big, and soft as she wraps it around her body, and she finds that he had left her some clothes to change into. It was a grey soft, worn Harley Davidson shirt and sweatpants. Y/N wriggled them on and left the bathroom. Harry told her he would be in the living room, so she ventured out from his bathroom, but she pauses when her eyes flicker across his dresser.
Set on his drawer chest, there was a photo frame that made her heart swell.
Y/N very vaguely remembers taking it -- the night of the bonfire, when she was scared to be alone and that man who’d been following her turned up at the park when she was there. Harry had come to get her, made her feel safe and soft. It was the first night she had met everyone, hung out with them, drank with them until she got sleepy, and managed to slump into Harry’s body. She remembers being lulled to sleep by the steady drum of his heart, how nice it sounded, how warm she felt, and she remembered how he accommodated her body with his arm around her while he let her rest. All of that she remembers quite vividly, however, the picture that was taken is what she has to dig through her thoughts to be reminded of. It was right after Harry had woken her up, called her snoozy, and patted her bum before letting her lean against him so they could walk to the car. Just before they had started their venture to the car, she remembers Mickey stopping them, having been trigger happy with a camera the entire night.
“Big smiles! This one’s for the books.”
Y/N’s eyes shut and she smiled sleepily, her fingers thrown in a peace sign and Harry grinned wide, a dimple dotting his cheek. The ember glow of the fire outlines them in an orange-ish tint as the flash illuminates them in the night, and Y/N wonders what possessed either of them to wear ripped jeans when she was almost certain that night it was below freezing.
“Tha’s my favorite photo,” Harry’s voice rings from behind her and she nearly startled out of her skin, turning her head to look at him, the frame in hand, “Mickey gave it to me like a month or two after he had developed it, I thought we were right cute.”
“We are,” she thumbs the wooden frame, the ridges dabbing into her skin, “This is the night you first stayed at my flat.”
“After you practically tore me a new one for suggesting otherwise,” his chin hooks on her shoulder, nose dipping into the curve of her throat, “You look nice in my clothes.”
“Reckon?” She leans back, melting into his touch, “They’re very soft, kinda feels like cuddling with you. Guess if I have your shirts I don’t have to bother with the body and your freezing toes.”
“Oi,” he grumbles, sliding his arms around her waist, “Be nice, Pet, or I’ll take ‘em right back. Besides, clothes can’t pet on you, or feed Ubbe, or even turn on the godforsaken vampire film or cook dinner.”
A gasp leaves her as she spun in his arms, “You put on Twilight?”
“Of course I did, you wouldn’t shut up about it before, which had me wondering if I remembered it correctly. Figure after you we eat and you tell me about all the gross shite you had to deal with today, we could watch it.”
It was true -- on the way to his flat, she had not so subtly mentioned that it felt like she was being invited into a vampire’s home before delving into a scene by scene explanation of the better half of Twilight. Harry had openly admitted to not really liking the film but he let’s her rant and rave anyway, even offered his commentary on what he did remember from it. Y/N thinks it’s the first time anyone other than her mother let her express the teenage nostalgia that still resonated with her and the movies as a whole.
And for him to put it on for them to watch? In his beautiful flat that smelled like him? Where she would be fed, be able to chat about her day with someone other than Ubbe, feel warm and happy? She couldn’t think of a better way to spend her time.
“As long as we can cuddle, I think this might be the perfect night.” She tells him and he rolls his eyes playfully, teasing her with a squeeze at her ticklish sides.
“Of course, we’re going to cuddle. You think I spent the last four months pining after you, just for us not to cuddle?”
Y/N lets her eyes flutter shut, leans into him, and smiles.
#WOOOOOO#YAHTZEE :D#THIS IS THE END OF LIKE HALF A YEAR'S WORTH OF WRITING#ITS BITTERSWEET#I LOVE THESE TWO#WRITING#BLURB#HOPE YOU LIKE IT :)
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hi hello i am feeling very angsty so: rhodeytony ft tony's worrying lack of interest in avoiding getting kidnapped and his bodyguard rhodes' increasing stress levels to save a boss that doesn't want to be saved (and, if the flutter in his heart should be anything to go by - should not be his boss anymore). bodyguard to lovers??
Rhodey is a good bodyguard. Hell, he’s the best.
That was why Pepper Potts hired him, after all. He’s not easy to fool, can follow anyone with a dogged determination that nearly defies human nature. He’s had successful stories before with glowing reviews from multiple people from all different threatened backgrounds.
(Including at least three world leaders and a pope.)
Tony Stark is...new. Well, nearly new. He’s a businessman, which isn’t anything out of the ordinary for Rhodey to deal with.
…except Tony’s highly eclectic, a billionaire, and purposely makes his behavior as erratic as possible.
It’s fun. What can Rhodey say? He loves a challenge, and Tony is about as challenging as they come.
-
When he first starts, Tony tries every trick in the book. Rhodey still sticks to him, although he does leave some distance. Tony tries to make him uncomfortable by bringing just about everyone who looks home, and all Rhodey says is, “you gonna feed them cereal when they wake up? Because that’s all you have in your pantry right now, and you don’t pay me to do the shopping.”
Tony scowls at that, and then changes his strategy.
-
It’s an odd strategy.
Tony decides he will just make Rhodey his friend, starting with the nickname of “Rhodey.”
“That’s stupid,” Rhodey says, because he can already tell it will stick.
“Not my problem, just my solution,” Tony grins. “Now come on, we’re getting burgers.”
They’re at a sit-down restaurant. One of Tony’s favorites, actually. Rhodey is not sure why he’s sitting down across from the man with the most influence in the world, but he is.
“So, what’s new with you? Who are you?” Tony asks. “Pepper sent me your file. You’re from Philly, right?”
“Oh my god, you sound weird when you say it like that,” Rhodey says, deciding against formality as he basically tells Tony Stark that he sounds weird and shouldn’t say “Philly.”
“Oh what, is that not what the locals call it?”
“I’m going to take you there and they’re going to beat you up.”
“Not the worst Sunday night I’ve ever had,” Tony mentions. “Hey, look at the menu. I don’t want you to flounder when the waitress shows up and you know fuck-all about what they have to offer.”
“Okay asshole, any recommendations?”
“The banana milkshake and bacon-burger.”
Rhodey looks at the menu.
He does end up with the bacon-burger, but chooses strawberry for his flavor of milkshake.
“You traitor.”
“Oh am I? Well then let me tell Pepper that you stole the last good pen she had then-”
Tony flings a fry at him, and Rhodey laughs.
-
Here’s a concerning thing: Tony has a very “c’est la vie” approach about kidnapping.
Like he genuinely doesn’t really give a shit if he knows what’s going on, or even if he doesn’t.
Rhodey was eagle-eyed and chased a van three fucking blocks and caught up to the driver, wherein he punched his lights out and got Tony out. His hands were bound in zip-ties and his suit was rumpled, but Tony just blinked at him.
“You think you broke a racing record with that?”
“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did they take anything?”
Rhodey’s all over Tony, checking for any injuries, any stolen wallets or watches, and thank god everything is there. (Not that Tony would really care if anything was stolen, save for his sunglasses. He spends far too much on those, in Rhodey’s opinion.)
“Okay geez,” Tony says, batting Rhodey’s hands away. “I’m fine. These people were amateurs. Shit, I’m running late for my consultation meeting, aren’t I?”
“You just got kidnapped,” Rhodey says, tone rife with disbelief. “You just got taken and your concern is with the consultation meeting?”
“Well I figured that you were going to come by or I’d be gone a lot longer, but now that I’m not? Yeah. Yeah, I am concerned with the consultation meeting. It’s a tech start-up company, only not that shitty Silicon-nice-guy start-up. It’s a more inclusive thing. I don’t know, I read their little ‘about’ section on their website. Which needs work. But that’s besides the point.”
Rhodey just follows, dumb in disbelief.
The few rare times that previous clients have been kidnapped or even attempted, they’ve needed a day to recuperate at minimum. They were shaken up, and usually beefed up the security for the rest of time after it. They also scheduled therapy appointments.
Tony treated this like it was a traffic jam and he was only running five minutes behind.
-
The second time it happens when Rhodey’s there, it lasts a little longer.
Rhodey has to admit, he maybe did some...under-the-radar looks. The FBI wasn’t moving fast enough, and the legal channels weren’t up to snuff. And besides, Tony did say that he could use Jarvis if he really wanted to.
(Turns out they both went to MIT at the same time, and Tony had been that obnoxiously short guy in his econ class that rarely showed up, but when he did he showed up in a suspiciously nice outfit.)
It was a weekend. Rhodey had gone away for two seconds to get a drink for Tony and then he was gone.
It was...bad.
The problem is this:
Tony definitely doesn’t need to be kidnapped as often as he is. He has so many inventions that can prevent that, he’s sold quite a few of them to the military.
But for some fucking reason, he doesn’t want to be saved. No, he’s content just going along with what’s happening, even though everyone else around him wants him back. Needs him back.
He finds him bruised and tied up to a shitty folding chair.
“Hey darling,” Tony says, lips a bloody red. “Can you believe this chair? I would’ve thought they would at least have gotten something a tad nicer. I am their best-dressed guest, after all.”
Rhodey looks over the torn shirt and the pants that have all but been shredded. His shoes are battered and stained beyond repair.
“Don’t,” Rhodey says. He sounds tired. He is tired. “Don’t do this.”
“Don’t do what, get kidnapped? I hardly try,” Tony snaps. “Or do I just have a sign on my back that you didn’t know was there?”
“You know I was in the Air Force,” Rhodey snaps back. “I got high enough clearance that I was one of the guys who got to see what brand new toy you sent our way. I know you could use any of those, shit, you probably tested it out, so you would know.”
“And your point?” Tony asks. “What, you’re saying I should know better? Saying you know better than me?”
“You know what? Yeah, yeah I am saying that,” Rhodey yells as he’s untying him. “I am fucking saying that I know more than you because you couldn’t give less of a shit if you tried about your own well-being! You were kidnapped and I’ve been running myself ragged trying to get you back, and you just don’t care!”
Tony stares at him. Really stares at him.
“Let’s go home.”
Nothing else is said in the car ride home. Tony can’t even look at Rhodey.
They go home, where Pepper greets Tony with a hug and makes him swear not to leave again, and Tony says “I promise,” only they both know that he’s lying.
But they’re not calling him out on it yet. No, not tonight.
-
Rhodey stays. Technically he doesn’t have to. Jarvis is the most advanced artificial intelligence system in the world. Hell, he’s the only one that’s even in his league, but Rhodey just...feels better staying.
And Tony’s mansion is a gargantuan structure with about twenty different rooms to choose from, so Rhodey gets a nice view and tries to go to bed.
He’s never gotten enough sleep. He knows he never would. That’s why the army loved him: he could be up at any hour and he’d be fine. That’s why his dad called him the bane of his existence in a loving manner: Rhodey would be up at four in the morning filling out the crossword before anyone else could.
He’s up at four a.m. making breakfast.
Tony’s pantry is still shit, but it looks like Pepper went shopping for him or had someone else do it, because he actually has eggs and juice and actual food instead of the odd pickle jar or way-too-old yogurt.
“You’re...up,” Tony says.
Rhodey turns around.
“Sorry. I, um. Stayed.”
“It’s fine,” Tony says awkwardly. “What are you making?”
“Omelet.”
“I always mess those up,” he says. “Either too much cheese or I forget I’m cooking it.”
“You want one?”
“You gonna make me one?”
“Accidentally cracked one too many eggs, so yes. You want onions and spinach in yours?”
“Sure,” Tony says. “What are you doing up?”
“Always bad at sleeping,” Rhodey answers. “Can never really stay asleep for too long.”
“Forget to take your melatonin gummies?” Tony answers, grinning.
Rhodey can see a bruise on his collarbone.
“You sleep okay?”
“No, but I rarely ever do,” Tony says. “Especially after yesterday’s fiasco.”
“You mean the whole weekend,” Rhodey says, putting the rest of the eggs into the pan. “Can’t imagine that was fun.”
“Oh come on, it was a ball,” Tony answers sarcastically. “They let me play cops-and-robbers and I was given pizza. Clearly it was a fantastic time.”
Rhodey stares at Tony.
“You know in the contract that I had you sign it specifically states that you have to let me help you, right?”
“It says you have to rescue me regardless of feelings or previous obligations,” Tony says.
“Rescuing you doesn’t just mean I chase after vans and track you down in an abandoned warehouse, it means that I rescue you from those situations before they can happen. But I can only do that if you agree that you won’t get kidnapped,” he says.
“And what, I want to?” Tony asks. “Do I say that?”
“You don’t have to,” Rhodey says, flipping the omelet over. “You never think you’re worth rescuing it because you think you’re never going to be good enough and I think you think that you owe me for giving a shit.”
Tony looks at him.
“You’re really honest.”
“I try to be.”
“I love that about you.”
Rhodey’s hand shakes slightly as he moves the omelet a bit in the pan. He hopes Tony doesn’t notice.
“Well I would love it if you stopped being kidnapped.”
“Aye aye, Colonel Rhodes,” Tony says, saluting. Rhodey rolls his eyes.
“Oh my god, do not.”
“What, am I not supposed to thank our armed services for making this country safe?” he mocks, standing up. “For going above and beyond the call of patriotism and helping keep Americans everywhere safe?”
Rhodey threatens to eat his omelet when he breaks into singing the national anthem.
-
There’s an...understanding.
Tony starts taking up training with Happy and almost agrees to regular training with Rhodey until Rhodey wants him to get up at six and do some workouts, and he yells “No!” after one workout session.
Rhodey pointedly pretends like he’s not staring at Tony’s chest when he lifts up his shirt to wipe away the sweat.
“Come on Rhodey my darling, let’s do breakfast.”
Tony dragging him to breakfasts, lunches, and dinners. It’s...nice. Rhodey ignores it when Tony waggles his eyebrows as he takes the check and calls him “darling, honey, baby,” and he lets him because it sounds nice.
He doesn’t say anything to Tony. No, you can’t date your boss. It’s unprofessional as hell and Tony probably is just doing it because Rhodey’s in close proximity and they have a good banter going.
-
The next time that Tony has an attempted kidnapping, Rhodey is there.
He’s there, and he’s being taken away, dragged from Tony, and Tony for the first time looks terrified.
Rhodey tries to struggle, tries to do anything, because Tony has to get away, and he...
He’s knocked unconscious.
-
When he wakes up, his head hurts worse than it ever has, and for a moment he’s pissed at Tony because he forgets that he’s been kidnapped and there’s no control over the thermostat because the room is hot as all get out.
And then he sees Tony across from him, and he’s never seen Tony angry.
“I’m sorry,” Tony says, voice shaking. “I’ll get us out of here. I promise. I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault we have assholes take us,” Rhodey says. “But god I would kill for some air conditioning.”
Tony smiles a bit at that.
-
Here’s a problem: you cannot give Tony Stark anything if you want him to not escape. Either that or he has to be unconscious because he’s a stubborn son of a bitch.
And they used actual handcuffs to keep him there. God, what a joke.
Tony learned how to break out of handcuffs when he was twenty and chained to a bedpost on accident. (Long story.)
This is nothing.
But the problem is that Rhodey’s here. His bodyguard who really shouldn’t be putting his life on the line for someone as shitty as Tony, but here they are, and he has to get him out.
“Follow my lead,” Tony whispers.
“Well of course I will, who else has as much experience being kidnapped as you?” Rhodey mutters.
“Okay is now going to be the time where you sass me? You’re here too. I could leave you.”
“You’re not gonna do that, Pepper would make you come back.”
“No she wouldn’t.”
“Yeah she would!”
“Not after I tell her that you used the last of her salad dressing.”
“Shit.”
Tony snorts, looking at the room. They don’t have security cameras, which is just...questionable. Oh my god, he got kidnapped by amateurs.
He’s kind of embarrassed.
Rhodey gets free, and they’re both headed towards a door, and Rhodey picks up a stray part of a metal pole, and Tony cannot lie and say he’s not intrigued by that.
Not saying he hopes Rhodey gets to use it.
He’s just curious how he’ll utilize it.
-
They get to just. Walk out. They fucking walk out. What kind of people did they get kidnapped from? It can’t be that easy, can it?
It can’t be...
It is.
Okay sure Tony is driving in a hotwired car and they’re being shot at, but all things considered that’s not the worst thing. And the truck is probably considered stolen anyways, and once Tony makes it to the highway, it’s not like they’ll be able to follow without making it onto national news, not that they haven’t already.
Pepper’s very effective at getting things to trend on national news when she wants to.
-
Rhodey is sitting on a beach chair. He shouldn’t be, and he also shouldn’t be drinking a mimosa because it’s four p.m. and definitely the morning, but he figures since he got kidnapped he’s allowed at least one mimosa.
“So. Your first kidnapping?” Tony asks. “All things considered, yours went well. I think next time we should go to Wendy’s or something, I was starving-”
“I’m just. I’m glad we’re okay,” Rhodey says. “But yeah. Maybe next time. If there is a next time. I’m going to I think make you hold hands with me so that you don’t get napped by terrible, shitty people.”
“You could’ve just asked to hold my hand, we didn’t need to be kidnapped together,” Tony says.
“Hm, is that a breach of contract?” Rhodey teases.
“Only if Pepper decides to enforce it, and she won’t because you’re the first bodyguard to have an actual success story with me,” Tony says. “So. I’m thinking maybe we skip the kidnapping next time and go straight for dinner.”
“Oh thank god, I thought you were gonna say a fast food restaurant.”
“I still could, you don’t know,” Tony grins, winking. “What if our first date is to Burger King? What are you gonna do?”
“Be mad that I still like you,” Rhodey grumbles.
Tony cackles, dropping a kiss onto his hand.
“Do you think I should get another bodyguard or will dragging you away during a party be too awkward for them?”
“...I’ll think about it.”
(They don’t get a new bodyguard.
No matter how much the other security complains that Rhodey’s the only one who knows where Tony is at all times, and they can’t exactly ask them if they’re busy doing...things.
Rhodey finds it hilarious.)
#longer night than usual for me which meant more time to work on this beauty#this has been in my inbox for months#so my apologies#but uhhhh i still did it! which is good#lovelyirony writes#rhodeytony#ironhusbands#rhfe#rhodey#tony stark#pepper potts#rhodey is in love and so is tony and they're both so LAME about it#tony doesn't really care about being kidnapped#meant to make this more angsty but was not feeling it
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Rivamika Fic Preview
Topic: Mikasa, a hardcore feminist, kidnapped by Levi, the leader of one of the most powerful gangs and who is the book definition of a dick.
Mikasa Point of View (P.O.V.)
Here I am, another restless night. Turning on my bed like a hamburger patty being flipped on a grill, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep. I can hear birds chirping outside so it's probably already morning but my thick light-blocking curtains make my room look as dark as night. Whoever invented those, has a special place in my lazy heart.
I started hearing shuffling sounds outside the door of my room. These two have no sense of self-preservation, I thought. My two roommates, Eren and Armin, have been living with me for a year now. I met them ten years ago, starting my teenage years, a tragic event brought us together. Since 'that event', Eren's parents took me in as their own and he introduced me to Armin, his best friend since childhood.
We are inseparable, even now as adults. Even though Armin works as an accountant for a law firm, I work as a Computer Engineer for the CIA, and Eren works as a veterinarian, when we are together, we still act like silly kids. I love them like siblings love each other, which means that we also fight like siblings, and right now they are breaking a golden rule.
You see, I love them. I would give my life without a second thought for them, but, there is something I love more: my bed. I can be a charming and decent person, AFTER my morning coffee, and AFTER I wake up on my own. If anyone dares to wake me up from my precious sleep, there will be hell to pay. I am not a morning person, who is it really? Those who said they are, are not to be trusted, they are probably psychopaths and serial killers. I also don't trust people that don't like cheese, how could you not like cheese?! They are probably part of those reptilian people that conspiracy theories warn you about from alien abductions and shit.
I heard Armin's voice, "Are you sure you want to do this?"
I walked to the door to better listen to their conversation.
"She promised to join us for our traditional 'Sunday pancakes' today since she has failed to wake up early for the last four Sundays in a row! It's her fault!", Eren said.
"You know she is not a morning person! She will kill both of us!", Armin said.
I saw the bolt of the door shaking. Eren was clearly picking the lock from my room. He really has a death wish. I stared around my room looking for ideas on how to greet him, and my eyes landed on my hamper which was almost full of my dirty clothes. I walked to it and grabbed two dirty socks and rolled them together in a ball.
"You can still run away and save yourself.", Eren said.
"I will just stay out of her room, and watch how she kills you while eating popcorn then."
No Armin, you are going to get it too since you are not stopping him, I thought. Then, I heard the beep sound from the microwave. He really made popcorn, unbelievable. I rested my back against the wall next to my door, waiting for their intrusion.
"Do you even know how to pick a lock?", Armin asked.
"I've seen it in movies, they open everything with bobby pins on those spy movies so, how hard can it be?", Eren said.
I pinched the bridge of my nose thinking, he can't be serious. But knowing the bastard, he probably was, and I didn't have the patience to wait for him to finally open my door. So I opened it myself.
He looked at me in shock and said, "Mika-"
But I cut him short by shoving to his open mouth the ball of dirty socks. Armin was on the way to the microwave and yelped at the sight of Eren spitting the dirty socks from his mouth and coughing. I gave him a death stare and yelled:
"You are next!"
"Fuck no!", He yelled as he ran to his room with me running behind him.
He got into his room and closed the door before I could get to him.
With a sing-song voice, I said, "Oh, Armiiin, open the door now and I might forgive youuu."
"Bullshit! I will only open the door after you have your morning coffee!"
Suddenly, the smell of popcorn hit my nose making me smile. Armin never got to get his popcorn out of the microwave. He and I have this unhealthy addiction to popcorn for years now. I mean, who doesn't like popcorn? Those are other types of people I don't trust.
I walked to the microwave and took the popcorn out. I grabbed a fan and pointed it directly to the door of his room. I opened the bag and started eating in front of the fan. He will smell it eventually.
"That's a low blow, stinky feet!", Eren said.
"Is that!? Are you eating MY popcorn!!?", Armin shouted.
"Mmm delicious and extra buttery. Thanks for making popcorn for ME, you are so considerate. You shouldn't have-", I was cut short by Armin slamming his door open and running towards me.
I started running away but he tackled me, making me drop the bag causing the popcorn to fly out, "Give me back my popcorn you thief!", he shouted.
"Did you stuck your socks inside somebody's ass?! This smell is not human!", Eren shouted.
Ignoring Eren, I shouted to Armin, "No! I'll take it as a peace offering apology from you two for waking me up!", while we both struggled to get the bag making a mess of popcorn all around the apartment in the process.
Armin managed to run away while Eren grabbed me and tried to get the dirty socks into my mouth when someone knocked at our door.
We all froze, Armin stared at both of us and asked, "Are any of you expecting someone?"
We both shook our heads in response. I ran to my room to get my gun, Eren did the same while Armin watched the door and grabbed the gun we stored in the kitchen for emergencies.
I immediately started thinking of all the possible threats that could be behind our front door. This is all Eren's fault, I thought.
You see... I was deemed a 'child prodigy' at a young age. I started college at the age of 12, my studies were disrupted for a couple of years when 'that event' happened. Later I resumed my studies and by the age of 18, I already had a bachelor's degree in computer engineering. I joined a couple of hacktivist groups and helped them with the usual stuff: DDoS attacks to government websites, machine learning algorithms to find patterns in social media of government bot accounts, you know, the usual stuff.
One day Eren challenged me to hack into the CIA so I started with a social media scan looking for stupid people that post their work information, I just needed someone with access to the building. In summary, after finding a few victims I did a MITM attack on their phones and computers. From there I got access to the network, installed a backdoor, and had access to everything. I did a similar process to gain access to other intelligence agencies' networks from different countries.
Since we were broke at the time, I did ransomware of the data but instead of money, I asked for a job and immunity for the crime. I also sent them part of a list of vulnerabilities in their system and told them that if they wanted the full list they had to comply with my demands. Since I was already deep in trouble I decided to also give them evidence of the access I gained to other countries' intelligence networks. Not even an hour passed by, and they were already begging me to take the job.
Thinking of who could be behind my front door right now, I thought about the time I got access to the Russian 'Federal Security Service' agency and replaced their data with, well, some 'not-so-innocent' pictures. I think Putin hates me. There is also what I did to the North Korean Reconnaissance General Bureau agency... I think Fluffy Kim hates me too.
None of it would've happened if Eren didn't challenge me in the first place! It's completely his fault!
I got out of my train of thought when we were back at the door and Eren asked us, "Ready?"
We nodded in response, and Eren slowly opened the door.
He quickly pointed the gun at the unexpected visitor who was... An innocent girl scout who was trying to sell cookies.
The kid yelped scared, but Eren quickly hid the gun and said, "Oh, we don't want cookies."
"I want cookies!", I protested and pushed Eren away from the door.
"Order for me too!", Armin said.
Author P.O.V.
After getting their girl scouts cookies, Eren started making pancakes while Armin and Mikasa sat in seat stools behind the small kitchen island facing him. They had popcorn on their messy hair, and on their clothes. "You two better clean the mess you made!", Eren shouted.
"It was Armin's fault!", Mikasa shouted while Armin gave her a death stare.
Eren started to stick his tongue out while making disgusted faces.
"What's the problem Eren? Are you having a stroke?", Mikasa said teasingly.
"For fucks sake Mikasa! I have washed my mouth around five times already and I can still smell your stinky socks! Those things are a hazard!", Eren said while walking away to the bathroom to wash his mouth again.
"The pancakes are going to burn!", Mikasa shouted.
"You take care of them, stinky feet! I am on my way to drink some bleach!", Eren shouted back.
Mikasa rolled her eyes and walked to the stove while Armin stood up to turn on the television. While flipping the pancakes Mikasa took a look at her phone notifications and messages. She started looking through the messages from her girlfriend's group chat:
Sasha: OMG! I just saw the cutest guy ever!
Annie: Did you banged it already? 👉👌🍆
Sasha: I wish! I don't even know how to talk to him yet!
Christa: Where did you saw him?
Sasha: He works at a new bookstore that opened near my apartment.
Christa: Did you tried to talk to him somehow? Or just stared at him like a mentally unstable stalker?
Sasha: Well, I asked for book recommendations, he started asking me about what I liked so he could give me a more accurate one but the dick of his boss cut him off telling him to go back to the cash register.
Annie: Maybe we should meet up for lunch to come up with a plan.
Ymir: I just saw that I have new messages. I tried to read them all but my lazy ass just read 'cute guy' and 'bang it already' and skipped to the end. I am up for lunch and the 'banging plan'. Speaking of people in need of banging, @Mikasa wake your ass and join us!
Annie: 😂😂
Mikasa rolled her eyes and replied:
Mikasa: I am awake, count me in for lunch, and the 'banging plan'.
Christa: Girls, call the police, that is not Mikasa, that's an impostor! There is no way that woman is awake this early!
Mikasa sighed and typed,
Mikasa: Eren woke me up, putting his life on the line.
Suddenly Eren's phone made the sound of a new message notification. Mikasa rolled her eyes and thought, here we go.
Eren grabbed his phone, unlocked it, stared at his messages, and started laughing. "Sasha just asked me if you are okay because you are awake. She wants to know if it's really you before calling the police. She also wants to know if I am still alive."
"Hey guys check this out.", Armin said while turning up the volume of the TV.
The news was on. Mikasa served the pancakes on the plates. She took two of the plates and gave one to Armin while sitting next to him. Eren grabbed his plate and sat next to Mikasa. The three of them were seated on the sofa in front of the TV watching the news.
Breaking News:
'We are reporting live outside of Mitra's bank. Just moments ago, criminals robbed the bank and took three hostages with them. The police are tracking their whereabouts at the moment, avoid the area. The perpetrators' identity has been confirmed as the gang that calls themselves "The Scorpions". They are commonly identified with a Scorpion tattoo on their necks, reach out to the police if you see anyone suspicious.'
"These guys again, they piss me off.", Mikasa said.
"They are the same ones that robbed one of the stores of the mall right?", Armin asked.
"Yes, those assholes take hostages with them but they end up always killing them.", Eren said.
"That's the gang that posts the videos about they killing the hostages like is some sort of sick hunting game?", Armin asked.
"Yes, they take the victim to a secluded wood area and tell the victim to run, after a minute or so they run after the victim to kill it, recording the whole thing.", Eren said.
"That's sick.", Mikasa said.
"That's why they are one of the most feared and powerful gangs around.", Eren said.
"It doesn't make sense, the tattoo I mean, who would be so stupid to get a tattoo that clearly dictates that you are a criminal? Why have the police not caught them yet if they have a fucking mark on their necks screaming I'm the killer?", Mikasa said.
Suddenly Eren's phone made the notification sound again. "Oi, Mikasa, Dad wants to meet with us today for dinner, he is in the area."
"Tell him to pick us up then.", Mikasa replied.
-----
Mikasa P.O.V.
I arrived at the restaurant where the girls planned to meet for lunch. As I was walking from the parking area to the restaurant I felt the unease sensation that someone was following me. I've been feeling this for two weeks now. Even though I have gained many enemies by my hacking 'activities', and I joke about Putin or someone else knocking on my door, the reality is that it's highly unlikely that they know my identity. I didn't use my network, on top of it I used nested VPNs mixed with virtual machines with an eastern VPN added on top. Even though the probability of them knowing my identity is almost zero, my job provided me with an apartment in the most secured area in town plus extra police patrols around the building. But, of course, you can never be too cautious, so I always assumed the worst.
I took my phone out and texted my boss: "Activating precaution protocol."
Almost instantly he replied: "I will be on the lookout."
My boss, Pixis, has been very overprotective of me since I started working for the CIA. Since the first day that I arrived at the office and introduced myself, he personally asked to work with me. He was impressed by the stunt I pulled and introduced me to everyone on his team like I was some sort of Messiah sent by Thor itself from the land of Narnia. But not everyone reacted the same way he did when he saw me. It seemed like I wasn't what they were expecting to see since I do not fulfill the stereotype of a programmer. I am not a gamer, I am a ballerina, and what seems to be the worst of all to them is that I am a woman.
The biggest fear of a male chauvinist pig is a woman with confidence having success on a field dominated by men. When will they understand that women can do everything men do while even wearing high heels?
Ever since college, I've heard crap like:
"She probably slept her way in."
"Too pretty to be a programmer."
"A woman in my team? She will probably end up making us do all her work."
"She will probably need to be trained in the most basic crap. She doesn't look like she even knows how to do basic programming."
It's exhausting being a woman, why do we have to put double the effort to at least be noticed or recognized? When will they stop calling us 'emotional' or 'bossy', and start calling us instead 'passionate' and 'leaders'? We intimidate them because they can't control us and they know we have the potential to kick their asses.
I was snapped out of my mental rant when I received another text message from my boss: "Location received. As always, call me if you need to talk."
Good, from now on, until I turn it off, my boss will have a constant live feed of my location using my phone's GPS. Also, in case of emergency, I only have to press twice my phone's power button and in a matter of minutes the police, FBI, and the SWAT team will arrive at my location ready to get rid of any threat.
I can relax now, I thought as I opened the door of the restaurant and met my friends.
"Mikasa! We are here!", Sasha shouted while shaking an arm up to get my attention.
I sat at the table and grabbed the menu, the waiter was already taking the orders so I ordered the first thing I saw that was to my liking. Then I took out from my purse a box of girl scout cookies that I bought for Sasha and gave it to her.
She yelped excitedly and said, "This is why I love you!" while hugging the box.
"So, we've been booked for three schools next week.", Christa said.
Christa was referring to a feminist organization we all created that focuses on motivating girls to pursue a college degree, especially in fields dominated by men.
"I think that it's the most we've had in a week so far!", I said.
"Yes, people are helping by sharing our social media accounts. I have messages of people who want to join us.", Ymir said.
"We should hold a meeting for newcomers, we are going to need more people eventually anyways.", I said, and Ymir nodded.
"So Sasha, what do you have in mind so far to talk to your cute guy?", Annie asked.
"I have no idea, someone needs to distract the manager of the library so he doesn't interrupt us again.", Sasha said.
"Who volunteers as a tribute?", Ymir asked.
"Is the manager at least cute?", Annie asked.
"He was hot but had this unapproachable vibe, and on top of that, a jerk.", Sasha said.
"In that case, I offer Mikasa as a tribute.", Annie said.
"What!? Why me?!", I shouted.
"Because you never get intimidated or scared, and you always speak your mind. That personality is the greatest weakness of self-absorbed jerks.", Annie said.
I stared at her in disbelief while Sasha yelped excited looking at her cellphone.
"Girls! The package arrived! Just received the amazon notification.", Sasha said.
All of them gave me a devilish smile, confusing me, I asked, "What the hell are you talking about?"
"Mikasa, this is an intervention.", Christa said with a serious tone.
"We've noticed that you've been grumpier than usual. We also know that you haven't, well, how do I put this?", Ymir said.
"You haven't had a good fuck in a while!", Annie shouted.
I wanted the earth to swallow me whole right there. Annie said that a little too loud for my liking.
"Where are you going with this?", I asked.
"Well, we bought you a little something to help you deal with, you know, the grumpiness. It just arrived at your door.", Sasha said.
"Are you crazy! You know I live with Eren and Armin!", I said.
"Come on is just a package in your name, they are not going to open it.", Annie said.
"You definitely don't know Eren.", I said in disbelief.
When we finished eating I rushed to my car and drove as fast as I could to my apartment. I ran to the elevator and then ran to my apartment's door. The package wasn't there. I panicked and opened the door and saw Eren about to open it. I ran and tackled him making us both fall to the floor.
"What the fuck Mikasa!", He shouted.
"Why were you trying to open MY package?!", I shouted back.
"Because it could be something dangerous sent from one of your enemies, like Fluffy Kim for example.", Eren said.
"Why would Fluffy Kim send me something life-threatening via AMAZON!?"
"I don't know! Amazon sells some weird shit and they ship from all around the world, I am pretty sure North Korea is included."
I gave him a death stare, snatched the package, and went to my room closing the door behind me.
I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair. I opened the package and found the box of a pink glow-in-the-dark vibrator. I grabbed my phone and wrote in the group chat:
Mikasa: Got the 'package'.
I put the phone down and opened the box. The thing brought batteries and had a little plastic paper that said, "pull here". I think is to protect the device from direct contact with the batteries, I thought.
I pulled the damned paper and the thing started having an epileptic attack. That thing had a demon inside and I didn't know how to do a fucking exorcism! Scared of it, I screamed and dropped it to the floor.
Apparently, Eren heard my scream because he shouted, "I knew it! I am not letting you kill her Fluffy Kim!" while slamming open the door of my room.
I panicked and jumped on top of the frantic thing that looked like it was break dancing on the floor, to hide it.
"What happened?!", Eren asked me.
"Nothing! Get out!", I shouted, trying to stop the damned thing from moving. It felt like I was riding one of those mechanic bulls.
"You screamed! Something happened!!", Eren shouted worriedly.
"What's all the fuss about?", Armin appeared.
"Fluffy Kim sent something dangerous from Amazon to Mikasa!", Eren shouted.
"Fluffy Kim didn't send me shit! Get out!", I said giving a pleading look to Armin.
He got my message and pulled Eren by the back of his shirt, out of my room, and closed the door. I took a deep breath and found the button to turn that demonic thing off. I checked my phone again and read the messages:
Sasha: Yay! You have to name it!
Annie: She's right! Put a name on it!
Mikasa: The thing tried to kill me! I literally just pulled out a piece of paper from it and the thing started to have a panic attack!
Annie: 😂😂
Christa: You can control the intensity, check the instructions! But first, name it!
Ymir: It has to be a sexy name.
I rolled my eyes knowing that they won't drop the subject until I give the thing a name.
Mikasa: Any suggestions?
Sasha: Just think of something that turns you on. 🔥🔥
Something that turns me on, something sexy, I thought as my mind went blank. I started looking around my room. I had a stack of letters and spam stacked on top of my nightstand. I sighed and went through it, I stopped at a promotional flyer for men's underwear. It had a couple of men modeling the underwear. This could work, I thought.
Mikasa: I found a flyer of men's underwear, the models are kind of hot.
Annie: You are messing with us right? 🤦
Sasha: Hold on, she might be onto something. What's the name of the brand?
Mikasa: Levi's, I like it, I will call it Levi.
Christa: 🥳🥳 Now, it's time to let Levi give you a good time!! 🥳
Mikasa: 🤦
I put my phone down and stared at, well, the Levi thing. I still have a couple of hours until dinner, how do I start? Porn? I thought making my mind go into another rant.
Another industry dominated by men, made for men: the porn industry. They try to sell a ridiculous idea of what 'good' sex is supposed to be. They show a man sticking his penis in a woman's vagina with little to no foreplay time. After that, they start going ridiculously fast, like the world is about to end, and start changing the poor woman to different positions like she is some kind of rag doll. They do all of this while ignoring the most important thing: the clitoris. If the poor thing could talk it would scream something around the lines of:
"I'm fucking bored dude!"
"She is faking it!"
"Feeling nothing bro!"
"If I would describe this whole experience with you, I would use the forever-alone meme!"
I locked the door and grabbed the thing, "Let's see, please don't kill me."
-----2 hours later-----
Mikasa: Levi, oooooh Leviiiii!!!!
Annie: 😂😂
Sasha: 🥳🥳🍆🍆🥳🥳
Christa: 😎🔥
Ymir: 💥💦
--------
Author P.O.V.
"Mikasa, are you ready? Dad is already here!", Eren shouted.
"Yes!", Mikasa said, opening the door of her room ready to go.
"Well, someone is in a good mood.", Eren said while raising a brow.
Ignoring his comment Mikasa said, "Let's go, we don't want to make Grisha wait."
"You are right, Dad has texted me like 5 times already since he arrived.", Eren answered.
They took the elevator down and walked by the building lobby. Eren looked at the security guard and said, "That's a new guard right?"
"Yes, he arrived around two weeks ago.", Mikasa responded.
They went out of the building where Grisha, Eren's dad, was waiting for them inside his car.
"We have to make a quick stop at the bank first.", Grisha said.
Mikasa groaned in protest and said, "You know that nowadays you can do mostly all bank stuff through the internet right? I can teach you."
"I need to speak with a manager, is an account that locked me out and they told me to go to the bank directly. It will be quick.", Grisha explained.
"Why do old people avoid using technology?", Mikasa whispered to Eren.
"I heard that!", Grisha said.
They arrived at the bank and Grisha took a piece of paper and started to fill it out with his account information. He told Mikasa and Eren to start making the line for him. He finished filling up his account information and walked to the spot they were in the line.
"I'm hungry, they look like the Zootopia sloths.", Eren said looking at the bank employees.
Suddenly, a loud sound was heard that shook the whole building. Grisha jumped on top of Mikasa and Eren throwing them to the floor. Smoke was coming from everywhere. A huge truck had collided with the bank's main entrance, making a hole. In an instant, a bunch of men with guns, wearing hoodies, and a clown mask entered the building.
"Hands up! And sit on the floor now!", one of them commanded.
Mikasa P.O.V.
Grisha sat on the floor hugging me, and Eren sat in front of me protectively. A couple of the men grabbed an employee and went through a door. After a minute they started going out with black bags. I remembered that I still had my GPS location shared with my boss since lunch. I grabbed my phone and double-clicked the power button, it was programmed to send a high-priority emergency signal to different agencies. I hid my cellphone, pinching it with the inside border of my jeans and pulling my shirt over it. At that moment, one of the men was walking in front of all of us. He was staring at each one of us on the floor.
Eren was covering me with his body when the man said, "You, move!", to him.
Trying to still cover me Eren asked, "Where?"
The man moved closer to him and said, "To the side, now!", and pointed the gun at his head.
Eren hesitated for a moment but then he moved. I was looking to the floor avoiding the man's gaze, hoping that it had the same effect as when a teacher asks a question in a classroom and you avoid making eye contact in hope that he doesn't pick you to answer.
I saw him with the corner of my eye as he lowered the gun and tilted his head. It seemed as he was confused for a moment.
Grisha tightened his hold on me and I saw the man pointing his gun again.
"You!", he said.
I felt a cold metal being pressed against my forehead. When I lifted my gaze I was staring down the barrel of a Walter Q5 Match Semi-auto pistol, held by a man who had... a scorpion tattoo on his neck and grey eyes.
"You are coming with me."
-----------
Want to know what happens next? Check the rest of the story here:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/27557422/chapters/67401547
or in Wattpad:
https://www.wattpad.com/980985373-saved-by-deception-encounter
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Flowers & Chocolates // John Shelby X Fem!Reader
Summary: On Valentine’s Day, your neighbour John asks you to look after his kids for a few hours and comes back with a gift you had been waiting for.
Warnings: Swearing
Word Count: 2372
Author’s Note:
This is a modern au, my first one for Peaky Blinders. I wasn’t sure if I could write a modern fic for this well but I think this turned out to be pretty good. I had to give John’s kids names and it was really hard to decide, I hope they fit well.
This fic really made me get over my writer’s block. I wrote this in one sit and it just put my mood up so much. It’s really fluffy and exactly what I would want my Valentine’s Day to be like.
I hope you share Valentine’s Day with all of your loved ones and show them you appreciate their love. I also hope that this one shot makes you as happy as it made me while writing it. Enjoy <3
English is not my first language and I’m not always confident about my work so please let me know if I make any mistakes or anything I can fix in my writing.
You can ask to be added to my taglist. You can be tagged to works on a specific character or just any of my works. Please dm me or send your wish to my ask box if you’d like to be added.
Requests are open. You can request any Peaky Blinders related imagines or prompts for me to write. I’m a minor so I don’t take NSFW requests, please keep that in mind.
———————
It was Valentine’s Day. You were single once again and your date for the night was a bottle of cheap red wine.
None of your relationships lasted more than 6 months and you had been spending every Valentine’s Day alone for 3 years. You were convinced the relationship chapter of your life was closed for now.
That morning started like another Sunday morning. You got up, took a shower, made yourself coffee and called it breakfast. You scrolled through Instagram and pretended not to see all the couple posts.
You were actually really glad to be single. You had full freedom, not that a relationship would take it all away but being independant entirely made you feel good. Also all of your past relationships felt one sided and you hadn’t met the right person yet.
This Valentine’s Day was a bit different than the others because you weren’t upset about being single. You were actually upset about not being in a relationship with a specific someone.
That someone was your upstairs neighbour in the small apartment complex you lived in. His name was John and he had four kids. Yes, four kids.
You might ask why that information was so important and the answer is simple. You and John met just because he had kids.
All of the flats besides yours and John’s were rented by university students, that left you as the only choice to babysit John’s kids. You were working independently, you were a graphic artist and you were always at home. That was exactly what John needed.
One summer afternoon, your door knocked. You weren’t expected guests, you barely had them anyway. John stood before you, looked at you with his gentle eyes.
“I have no one, can you watch my kids for an hour?” was the first thing he had said to you. You were also too busy trying to understand who he was and didn’t notice four youngers hiding behind him.
You couldn’t say no. You loved children, you had two younger brothers but they were back in your hometown when you had moved to London. John just left you with the kids and left.
John had two daughters and two sons. Katie, Jocelyn, William and David. Katie was the oldest but definitely wasn’t the most mature one. Jocelyn and William were twins but looked nothing alike though they sounded a lot like each other. David was the youngest and somehow the most mature one.
The oldest was nine and the youngest one was six at the time you met them. They were extremely calm and none of them were troublemakers. They had great interest in your work and asked a lot of questions but also never bothered you.
You loved spending time with them and babysitting them. It has become a routine for you. John would drop them at least a few times a week. It was summer and the kids didn’t go to school. They were with you almost everyday.
You spent so much time with his kids that one day you even joked about getting paid. John had a better offer though. He promised you that he and the kids would make or buy you dinner every weekend to pay you back.
John was a good cook, you had only had take out for one of those dinners once and that was because he was sick. You had become almost like a family.
John was originally from Birmingham, his accent gave it away anyway but he had moved to London with a quick decision after his wife passed away. He had left his brothers and aunt behind in Birmingham but promised them that they’ll be okay.
John had told you that moving to London was the best decision he had taken. It was a new beginning for him and the kids. He was an engineer and London had more opportunities.
Even though you worked from home and didn’t quite reach the goals you had coming to London but it was your best decision too. Best decision after dumping your toxic ex.
Luckily for both you and John, you had formed a great friendship. The kids adored you. John was forever thankful for taking care of them.
That was all going to start changing when schools started and you saw them less and less. You were starting to feel like you didn’t appreciate your time with them enough.
You also realised you had feelings for John. That hurt more when one morning as the kids and him leaving home told you that they were moving. They were going to move out of their flat to a bigger place.
Your heart broke. You knew you’d see them from time to time but you thought it would never be the same warmth you had as neighbours.
That little heartache made Valentine’s Day harder. You could’ve opened your heart out to John and his little family you were introduced to. You had even joined that little family. Shared everything and became so close that you felt like you joined their family
After your coffee and your usual morning Instagram scrolling, you opened your laptop. You had to finish one job before the deadline. Your doorbell rang while you were deep down in work.
You went to the door knowing it was John. You hoped he would be alone. He was not, he had brought the kids again. You were happy to see them but you had one last hope to spend Valentine’s Day with John.
“Sorry Y/N, can you look after them for a few hours?” John said looking at you with puppy eyes. It almost felt like he was apologising for something and it wasn’t for making you look after his children.
“Sure!” you had said, trying to hide the subtle pain in your chest. “I downloaded a new game!” David said, waving his iPad carefully. You smiled You looked back to John, your smile had faded but his was as strong as it was a moment before.
You were hurting because him dropping them off on Valentine's Day meant only one thing. He was going on a date. He didn’t have a partner that you knew of and knew he would tell you if he did. It hurt you so much
“Going on a date?” you asked not being able to hold your curiosity back. “Oh no, just an errand.” John said and you just nodded.
You tried to reply back with a smile but it looked more like you were trying to hide your pain. “Alright, get in kids.” you told the children and John nodded.
“Alright Shelby Clan, I’ll be back in an hour.” John said and that made you genuinely smile. You found it very funny that he called them Shelby Clan. You knew it was the nickname for the whole family but it was still funny hearing him call four kids a clan.
“Bye daddy!” Jocelyn said waving, then they all got in. They ran to the living room which was also your office. “Y/N, are you really working on Valentine’s Day?” Katie asked. You chuckled nervously.
“Well, I’m not dating anyone, so yes.” you admitted and the kids giggled. “What are you laughing at?” you joked and they giggled more. “Would you want to date?” William asked.
“I think I would, if there was a right person.” you said after sitting on your chair. The kids sat on the ground and rested their backs on the side of the couch. David climbed on the couch instead, told you he was more mature.
“Even I am dating someone.” Katie said and Jocelyn gasped. “Who’s the lucky fella?” you asked, raising your eyebrows. All of them kept giggling, “He’s in my class, he bought me a cookie on friday.” Katie said with a big smile.
Watching them giggle and talk to you enthusiastically made your mood go up. You were actually feeling much better thanks to the Shelby Clan.
You went back to work while they were entertaining themselves with the new game David downloaded. The other siblings joined David on the couch too, lşke they should’ve done earlier.
You weren’t close to finishing the work and you were getting stressed about it. Your back started hurting from sitting. Also your stomach growled, reminding you that coffee doesn’t count as a meal.
“Are y’all hungry?” you asked the kids, hoping they would say yes. “Nope.” they all answered at once but Katie had more to say. “Dad said they’ll be cooking for us when he gets back.” they all nodded to Katie’s work.
“I’m eating on my own then.” you mumbled and stood up. “No Y/N, daddy’s cooking for you too.” William said and you smiled for a moment.
Your mind went full on panic mode. You questioned why he would cook for you after he comes back from a date. Even though he had said it wasn’t a date, your conscience didn’t trust his words.
You sat back at your seat but you didn’t want to keep working. The kids seemed so into that game that you also didn’t want to interrupt their fun. You went back to scrolling through Instagram and accepting your loneliness.
Soon the doorbell came to the rescue. You didn’t notice how much time passed so you didn’t think it would be John. You still believed he was on a date.
You opened the door. Your gaze first focused on John’s big smile, you didn’t even notice what he was holding in his hands.
“I’m back.” he said quietly, he was so quiet that you knew for some reason that he didn’t want kids to hear. That was when your gaze fell down from his lips to his hands.
He was holding a box of chocolate and a bouquet of red roses. You gasped and then smiled so big. “You bought me flowers and chocolates.” you said after licking your lips.
“I thought it was the appropriate time to.” John said, you looked at him not getting exactly what he was trying to say. You were so clueless.
“Appropriate time for what?” you asked and he just laughed. He thought you were joking but you were asking seriously. The fact that the corner of your lips were still curled had tricked him.
“I thought you were smarter.” he joked instead of directly answering your question. “Shut up you wanker, tell me!” you laughed after. “Wanker huh? I’m never telling you.” he replied and laughed so hard that you were sure the kids had heard already.
“Come on John Boy!” you said reaching for his hand. “At least give me the chocolates, I’m hungry!” you complained. He pulled them away from you. You laughed at each other, you felt like you were a teenager again.
“No seriously tell me, appropriate time for what?” you asked again, this time with a more serious face. He took a deep breath. He held onto the flowers and chocolates stronger.
“I think this is the appropriate time to ask you out.” John said and you nervously chuckled. You were so happy to hear that your feelings were mutual. You were also angry at yourself for not believing him when he said he had a date.
You two just smiled at each other like idiots without saying anything. At that moment nothing was real, you felt like you were floating in space and your only connection to earth was John.
“You’re asking me out?” you asked just to be sure. “Mhmm.” John nodded, “Y/N Y/L/N would you like to go out with me?” he properly asked. You giggled like a little girl.
“Yes, I will.” you said and hugged him. The corners of the chocolate box hurt you but it was worth it. Your hug was interrupted by Katie.
“Did you ask her out Daddy?” the ten year old asked, he nodded. “He did and now I’m hoping he’s gonna cook us dinner.” you told Katie, you really were hungry like a wolf.
John stepped inside with you. He left the flowers and chocolates on the kitchen counter. He immediately started cooking, you of course were going to help him.
“I hope you’re moving too far away, like the other side of London.” you confessed, that was a concern for you even before his interest in you was official.
“No, just a block away so the kids don’t have to change schools.” John said as he was cutting tomatoes. “A bigger place?” you asked, you were trying to get your own mind to justify the reason they’re moving for.
“Yes and you’re always welcome, nothing changes.” John said, he turned to you and smiled big. You returned his smile with a bigger one. Your eyes stuck at his lips, they looked so full and red. So kissable.
“Nothing changes.” you repeated and took a deep breath. He stopped cutting the tomatoes. He licked his lips, “Maybe some things can change.” he said and kissed you.
What a kiss it was. You weren’t in the children’s sight. It was the best kiss you ever had. With his lips touching yours and his tongue slipping into your mouth, both of you lost contact to earth. You were both floating in space, you didn’t even need air. As long as you had each other, you didn’t even have to have contact to earth.
You kissed for so long. You kissed like it was your last moment alive. You kissed with so much passion and you thought the heartache waiting for him gave you was totally worth it. When you finally parted, the only reason was that you were out of breath and you had a meal to cook.
Your Valentine’s Day was the exact opposite of what you expected. Even though you wouldn’t call what you and John had a relationship yet, you still weren’t alone on Valentine’s Day.
You had John with you who finally told you he wanted to date you. You had Katie, Jocelyn, William and David. You had your little new family. Now you were sure that you had joined their family for real. You hoped you all would be happy for the rest of your lives.
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