#i need answers and season 3 like yesterday

[cosmic-light-fics]

Thinking about the writers decision to have Tina sing a break-up ballad in s.2 ep. 5 Pop.

Tina sings Before the Next Teardrop Falls by Freddy Fender, a song about a man having a hard time accepting his ex has moved on and promising to be there for her if things don't work out with her new man. The writers dedicate a whole scene to Tina singing the full song, which kinda furthers its importance to me.

Prominently featuring a song about a breakup in this episode in particular is just... telling. Very telling. The episode being the one where Carmy effectively chooses Claire as his new romantic interest.

Considering the fact that the song's point of view is from the heartbroken man, I wanna assume this song is from Sydney's heavily-walled emotional perspective (I know, the theory is bumpy. But by the time Tina is singing the song, Sydney has already learned about Claire. Plus, we don't know how Natalie described Claire to Sydney). Sydney now knows there is another woman in the picture, one who Carmy willingly gives him time to, more so than their restaurant, their menu, and Sydney herself.

I'm just saying it's a little highly suspicious.

If he brings you happiness Then I wish you all the best It's your happiness that matters most of all But if he ever breaks your heart If the teardrops ever start I'll be there before the next teardrop falls

[seiwas]

grow on me like a dog loved fondly: prologue | kamo choso

wc: 1.0k

summary: your regular to the flower shop is more than what he seems. 

contains: written with f!reader in mind but can be read as gn!, animal shelter employee choso x flower shop owner reader, implied that reader is shorter than choso, flowers, small talk.

a/n: the promised choso drabble! depending on how this is received, i intend for this to be the prologue to a longer choso fic i have in mind!

You have a regular on the weekends. 

Business in the flower shop tends to be slow during winter, with less occasions having the need for flowers and even less buds blooming during the season. 

But even with the expected decline in customers, Saturdays always guarantee one—

The bells attached to the store doors jingle, allowing in a gust of cool air that tickles your cheeks from where you’re crouched down. The peonies in your hands were delivered just yesterday, the ends of the stems needing a slight trim to keep them fresh for longer. 

You turn, standing up to face your visitor. A purple scarf is wrapped high around his neck, with white fleece running down the length of his arms—a sort of undershirt to the short-sleeved uniform worn atop it. The outfit is familiar enough, but what truly distinguishes him are the two spiky pigtails on the sides of his head. 

There are a few things you’ve managed to pick up from four-line exchanges with your regular (six if you’re lucky): 1) he works at the animal shelter a few streets away, 2) the flowers he buys are for the front desk, a weekly replacement he deems necessary to keep the place looking alive, and 3) who he is, his name—

—‘Choso’, if the tag on his uniform says anything. 

The tag that is now, also, just a hand’s reach away from you. 

You look up, pocketing your plant nippers. The peonies dangle between your fingers. 

“W-welcome!” you stutter, focusing on the thin metal chain running across his nose. 

It’s new, an addition that intrigues you more about the man in front of you. 

The look he gives you is lazy, gaze deadpan, almost empty. Anyone else might find it snobbish and off-putting, but you’ve gotten used to it—an almost magenta puffiness that surrounds his eyes, bags of fatigue that usually hang underneath. 

He continues to stare, unmoving. 

Considering all your previous interactions, you’ve realized, he isn’t scary or rude or anything of that sort—he’s just awkward. 

A bit quiet and unbothered, maybe, but still just awkward. You don’t think he’s ever started an interaction with you first. 

“Is there any flower in particular that you’re looking for?” you ask, motioning around your store. 

The selection is limited this season—a few camellias and clusters of Japanese primrose with an abundance of peonies and daffodils. 

His head turns as he glances around the store, pigtails bobbing slightly with each movement. When he faces you again, he shrugs, voice deep and firm as he asks, “Do you have any recommendations?” 

It’s an odd feeling, borderline awkward and nervous; you have no idea why your mind is blanking. 

“Um,” you clear your throat, tucking the peonies between your fingers into your apron pocket, “daffodils are bright and friendly, good for entryways and front desks, I think.” 

He eyes the daffodils to your right, buckets of stems holding yellow and white. The store stays quiet for what feels like a good minute before he nods, agreeing to your suggestion. 

“The usual?” two clusters, wrapped in newspaper. 

Your question echoes throughout the shop, lingering while you pick at which daffodils look best. 

“Yes, but two of them.” he answers in monotone, before adding on, a soft hesitancy, “Please.” 

You smile to yourself, picking more daffodils for another bunch. 

Both of you make your way to the cashier, another bout of silence surrounding you as you crumple newspaper and pull at tape. He always watches, you notice, his focus set on your practiced handling of stems and leaves. 

You look up momentarily, seeing that he keeps his head down, “The pigtails are cool.” 

He doesn’t say anything, and for a while you’re afraid you might have offended him, but he responds, voice low; it’s soft, gentle in a way you never expected it to be. 

“Thank you.” you catch him shifting his weight from your periphery, hands digging deeper into his pockets, “The dogs think they’re chew toys when I wear it this way.” 

You most certainly were not expecting that, either. 

This is the most initiative he’s taken to add onto the conversation.

You grin, chuckling under your breath, “That must be fun.” 

It’s faint, but you think you hear him laugh a little. 

When the flowers are completely wrapped, you set them aside, making your way behind the cash register. You punch in the cost, ready to bill him before he speaks again. 

“Actually, would you happen to do deliveries?” he seems shy asking it, barely looking you in the eye. 

“Yes!” You nod, grabbing a pen and paper to hand over to him, “Just write down your contact details, the address you want it delivered to, and when you’d like it to be delivered.” 

Another thing you’ve realized, is that despite appearances and what he seems to be, Choso handles objects gently; the pen and paper you’d just given him were taken lightly from your fingertips. Even the strokes of his penmanship are slow, the tip of the pen barely creating an indent on the small sheet. 

“Will you be having both of these delivered?” you ask, holding up the bundles of daffodils. 

“Just one.” he answers promptly, before adding on again, “Thank you.” 

And you know you shouldn’t ask, shouldn’t be so nosy, but—

“What’s the occasion?”—

Flowers are rarely in demand during the winter season. 

—“If you don’t mind me asking,” you follow-up quickly. 

The immediate quiet makes you think you might have gotten too comfortable again, made him feel weird about your questions—but he answers.

“My brothers,” he finishes the final curves of his writing, “they’re coming to visit.” 

The piece of paper is handed to you, and you hum, acknowledging his response. You go over his details, reciting it to him to double-check. But when you land on his address, your eyes go wide, a little ‘oh!’ slipping out. 

He furrows his brows, confused. 

You definitely, most certainly did not expect this. 

“Sorry,” you shake your head, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment, “Just—“ you chuckle, “I think we might be neighbors.” 

thank you notes: @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat for sending me lil prompts that somehow birthed into this!! + @yemmuishomeforthementallyunwell for feeding the choso brainrot 🥹 + @mysugu @soumies for being my angels, lights of my life!! listening to me ramble abt this and helping me pick music, hash out plot, pick title, everything! ily

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[luxurychristmaspudding]

Arizona | On Call

part i

summary: frankie has a question.

pairing: neighbour!frankie morales x f!reader

ratings/warnings: 18+, MDNI. dual pov. reader and frankie are both bi and have same sex exes. mostly fluff here, folks. and some (maybe a lot of?) angst. just a couple of buds chillin'. some talk of dead/absent parents.

reader is a teacher and has hair, but she is otherwise a blank slate.

wc: 5.1k

an: wow - i really did not expect this little guy to get the response it did yesterday. eternally grateful for your support and enthusiasm. i love you. hope y'all enjoy <3

dividers from the glorious @saradika-graphics

That taste All I ever needed All I ever wanted Too dumb to surrender

- arizona, kings of leon

series masterlist | main masterlist

It’s quiet in the house. 

Golden, gooey sunlight pools on the living room floor, slanting through the windows. It’s warm against the arm he has resting on the edge of the sofa, not a chirp or a lawnmower whirring outside, and when Frankie closes his eyes, you’re the first thing he sees. 

Evenings like this are the mirror of when your truck first rattled up the street and groaned to a halt outside your front door. He can see it now, within the darkness behind his eyelids, how he’d peeked from behind the curtains in Lucia’s stifling room, her small, sleeping body sprawled on the bed behind him. How the truck door had swung open, how your bare legs had emerged from the cool of the cab, how you’d hopped down onto the pavement and raised a hand to shield your eyes from the low-lying sun. You’d licked your teeth as you’d rechecked the address and looked up at the house - your house. Blown a deep breath out from your cheeks and then turned back to the truck to scrabble around for your keys. 

Frankie had turned from the window as soon as you’d bent across the front seat, only glimpsing the bottom of the plush of your ass peeking from below your sweat shorts before he’d swept the curtain and the image aside.

He’d given it two minutes before he’d clattered out of his front door at the same time as you’d emerged from yours, raising a hand in greeting over the fence that separated your houses. You’d answered with a wide grin and a lilting hey, neighbour as he’d looped the boundary, holding out a palm for you to shake. I'm Frankie, he’d said, shooting a thumb over his shoulder at his open front door. From across the way. You’d given him your name in return, quirking an eyebrow as you asked whether he was feeling strong.

The truth is, that day Frankie would have been whatever you needed him to be. Immediately taken by your warm charm, your glinting smile - the mischief always just behind your eyes, the way you moved through your house. Even now, he cooks you dinner during exam season when you’re up to your eyeballs in papers, mows your lawn when he’s already cutting his own. Offers a shoulder to cry on when you’re missing your dad, always your best friend with spare beers when you’re free on a Saturday night - and you never fail to return the favour. 

The way things are now, it’s like he can’t even remember what it was like to not have you next door. What it was like when he wasn’t launching your paper onto your porch, what it was like when you weren’t soaking him and Lucia with the hose over the fence as they launched water balloons at you from the other side, both your backyards filled with squeals and shouts of laughter. He’s so glad - so infinitely glad - that fate or whatever it was that had a hand in these things dropped you on the curb that evening a year ago. That he had grinned and laughed and said yes ma’am, that he had lept at the chance to be a good neighbour and started lifting the boxes from the truck bed, helped you set up your wifi, invited you in for a beer in his kitchen when you ordered food for the two of you as Lucia slept soundly upstairs. 

He remembers being shocked at how easy it was. Easy conversation, easy laughter, easy silence. Easy friendship.

How he’d looked forward to seeing you across your lawns in the morning, calling out your greetings as you clambered into your truck and he fastened Lucia into her booster in his. The catch ups over the fence when you’d finished your days, recounting stories from the classroom or cockpit, Lucia chipping in her own from nursery. The delight in your eyes when they’d knocked on your door a couple of weekends after you’d moved in, arms laden with a tub of homemade cookies. How you’d invited them in, drinking coffee and juice, how easily you’d gotten on with Lucia. She’d adored you after that first afternoon spent together, falling asleep in your lap as you’d settled in front of the TV in low evening light. You and Frankie had talked long afterwards in lowered voices, you refusing to be relieved of his daughter’s tiny sleeping body, insisting you were just as comfortable as she was. The little girl only stirred when Frankie made you snort with laughter at something one of his friends had said. 

Conversation had turned to friends, family. He told you about his brothers in arms, his mom and dad, Lucia’s mother. A woman who was jetting across the country as a flight attendant, an amicable breakup leading to easy co-parenting. You’d gladly told him about your friends, but hesitated before telling him of how your mom had disappeared from your life when you were little, how your dad had passed away a couple years back. He’d stretched an arm out, one hand settling on and squeezing your knee. Big palms warm and heavy, thick fingers gentle and understanding. When you’d followed the line of his arm up to meet his eyes again, crow's feet folded in their corners. Kindness, understanding. Someone who knew loss, too.

He asked about your dad, what he was like, and you’d regaled him with stories of growing up with ice-cream dates, summers you spent fishing on the local lake, how he’d carry you on his shoulders, his tight throat when he told you how proud he was of you at graduation. 

He’d tentatively asked if your dad had been why you moved out here, understanding the need to put physical distance between yourself and the pain and memory of your surroundings.

No, you’d said, eyes glinting ruefully, this was because of a breakup.

Frankie hadn’t pushed for anymore after that.

You’d invited them over for dinner the weekend after, and Frankie had stood by your side in the kitchen, insisting on helping you cook, immovable despite the rag you whipped at him. As you chopped and fried, you'd told Lucia about stars and blackholes and plants and bugs. She was especially taken by bugs.

You’d dug out books you’d borrowed - and never returned - from the school library for her to pore over, even giving her a magnifying glass to use to hunt for critters in your backyard as you and Frankie had washed up afterwards. The three of you then spent an hour on your hands and knees on the grass as Lucia found worms and beetles and caterpillars, a soft smile on Frankie’s face as you shouldered her never-ending questions with all the grace of a bona-fide teacher. 

Every night that week, Lucia had clamoured to go next door and see the bug lady again.

Frankie had had to explain that you were busy working (yes, even this late, mija), and then had to endure the tiny stomping of feet as Lucia explained to him - with all the levity a four-year-old could muster - that there just weren’t enough bugs in their garden; they had to see the bug lady.

Bug lady. The first nickname they’d christened you with. You’d laughed with a full chest when he told you, and assured him it would be a mantle you’d bear with honour. Bug lady. And then, with time and growing softness, it was shortened to bug, and it stuck. 

Tonight, there is a different question to can we come over and look for bugs? that he needs to ask.

He thinks - knows - you’re the right person for it. Deep in his heart. Can count on one hand the number of people he’d entrust the safety of his daughter with, and all of them are too far away to call.

He needs a babysitter. And so far, he’s gotten nowhere fast with his inquiries.

The numbers he’s tried have been polite enough, more than good at their jobs. But they have clients already, families who came way before him that meant accommodating sitting at relatively short notice would be sporadic at best and impossible at worst.

And he’s running out of time. 

His first late night flight is Thursday; some rich guy taking a date up into the skies to watch the view over the city. It’s good money, and he'd be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the sights, too. The glimmer of the city below, the ridges of the hills, flash of the ocean in the distance. The worlds and lives of so many people cradled in the bowl of the valley. It’s beautiful, humbling. It’s worth sharing.

You’d enjoy it, he knows. And every night flight reminds him of an evening not too long ago when he’d struck a deal with you, asking you to grab him a beer when you’d gotten up to go to the bathroom mid-movie. You’d wiggled your eyebrows at him, what’s in it for me?

He’d snorted at you, offering various services and items in exchange, all refused, but then before I’ll take you up in the heli if you - had even finished leaving his mouth, you’d leaped up from the sofa, grabbing his hand to shake on it before he could back out. At night. You’d specified, nodding, wide-eyed as though he’d been the one to say it.

He’d rolled his eyes at your eagerness, demanding you make sure it was an extra cold one for that, and you’d bowed in the doorway, smirking. 

‘At your service, my liege,’ you’d said, before scampering out the way of the cushion Frankie launched at you. 

He’d had to ask you to explain to Lucia why she shouldn’t call him my liege two days later, when it seemed she’d lost the meaning of Papi in an effort to be like you. You’d snorted into your soda when he told you, but had fixed Lucia with serious eyes when you told her that Papi was a very special name to call her dad, one that helped him feel loved and appreciated. Lucia had acquiesced quickly afterwards, stretching her arms out to Frankie before he lifted her from her chair, tucking her face into his neck as she apologised profusely, reassuring him that she still loved him the same, just that my liege had sounded so fun coming from your mouth. Frankie had looked over her curls at your bitten lip, your silent laughter, holding his own amusement behind his teeth as he stroked her back and cooed that he knew, mija, it’s okay.

He remembers, with a lurch below his navel, how Lucia had then asked whether you’d call him Papi to show him he was loved, too. How both your jaws had fallen slack, how something had flickered behind your eyes too quickly for him to catch before you’d told her you call him other things to the same effect. Fish, buddy, and then mouthed over the top of her head, asshole. Frankie had laughed, the jumping of his body pushing Lucia into her own giggles, and you’d soon followed.

It’s strange how much like a family you’ve become over the last year, how well you’ve slotted into their lives. One of his best friends, pulling up with the boys when it comes to ranking his favourite people. Filling gaps he didn’t even know were there, healing fissures he thought had closed. How well you fit in his arms, how well your head fits beneath his chin. How well your lips might fit with his, how well you -

A breath of laughter puffs from his nose, and he rolls his eyes at himself. He’s too old to have a crush, too old to be smiling to himself when he thinks of the girl next door, his best pal. Besides, he has a bad track record with dating friends, anyway.

He checks his watch, stills, listening for the sounds of a restless daughter. Satisfied, he pushes himself up from the orange-bathed haven of the couch with a grunt, pulls open the front door, and skips down the porch steps.

The stubble of the lawn is cool beneath his socks as he jogs across the grass, curving around the picket fence between your properties to pop back up on the other side, striding towards your house.

He takes the steps up your porch two at a time, rapping his knuckles against the sage green of your door. He waits no more than five seconds before he knocks again, earning an irritated alriiiiight from the other side.

The click of a lock, and it swings open to reveal you in shorts, a cap, and a worn cotton t-shirt - sun-warmed, soft, gorgeous. 

You grin at the man on your doorstep, and he grins back.

‘Evenin’, teach.’

You click your tongue at the nickname.

‘Way past your bedtime, Morales,’ you tease, ‘You need a warm milk?’

Frankie flicks the back of his hand against the bill of your cap, giggling as it falls to the ground. 

You smooth your hair, scrabbling for the hat, scowling at him.

‘Need a warm milk,’ he mocks, and you land a carefully curled fist against his bicep as you stand, deadening his arm. ‘Ow, pendeja,’ he pouts, rubbing at it. ‘You know, wearing a cap indoors still doesn’t make you cool.’

That pretty, playful little scowl flickers over your face again.

‘I just finished my study break, actually.’

‘Oh yeah? What are we studying today? A million ways teenagers make your life hard?’

The scowl is stolen by a bitten back smile, and you wave him off, turning on your heel down the hallway, tugging your cap back on.

‘Whaddya want? Pain in my ass,’ you call, walking away from him and back into your kitchen. He follows, drumming his fingers along your sideboard as he goes.

‘I need a favour, if you have any spare.’

Your kitchen is bathed in the same warm glow as his living room, but instead of quiet, there’s the slow turn and hum of your laundry machine in the closet, the sweet croon of a voice from the record player in the corner. Fruit in a bowl, bottles of gifted wine, pictures of friends, paintings from students. The jungle of houseplants you keep towards the patio doors, the jumble of papers, books, planners, and pens spread around your laptop on the table.

It’s so you. So like home.

You pick up the stem of your wine glass, half full, between your thumb and pointer finger, eyes turned up to the ceiling as you count on your other hand. You wince and suck your teeth, eyes falling back to his.

‘I dunno. ’S not looking good, Fish,’ you say somberly, ‘My favour quota’s already been exceeded this year.’

‘Baby, it’s March.’ 

You shrug.

‘Been busy.’

He raises an eyebrow at you, and you scoff.

‘Well, I guess I could make an exception for you, big guy.’

He smiles, leaning against the kitchen counter.

‘I need a babysitter.’

You nod, swallowing a mouthful of wine before placing the glass back on its coaster. Papers shift and whisper as you hunt for your phone, buried in the piles of essays.

‘Oh. Sure. I have some numbers -’

‘Actually - I was thinking -’

‘Now that’s dangerous for all of us.’

He points a finger at you, and you bite your lip, humour lighting your eyes.

‘Ha. Anyway. I was thinking - I know… I know you got that big car bill last month. And I know you don’t get paid enough. And you know Lucia loves you…’

You frown at him.

‘You want me to babysit?’

He bites his lip, looking over your table with clearer eyes. You’re busy. Always busy. Overworked and stressed. A heat crawls up his neck, early onset guilt.

Maybe this was a bad idea. He inhales deeply.

‘Yeah. But I’m starting to realise that might be a lot to ask.’

Hm.

He watches as you pull out a chair and sit at the table, studying him.

‘If it makes it any better, you’re my last resort.’

He’s relieved to hear a flutter of a giggle in response, and you clap your hand over your heart.

‘Ouch. There I was, thinking I meant more to you guys than that.’

He crosses his arms, shaking his head, smiling.

‘You know you do, bug.’

You take your cap off, throwing it away from you on the table, rubbing at your forehead.

‘I’ve got a lot of work to do, Frankie,’ you say softly, eyes gentle.

He sighs.

‘I know. You can say no. It’s just - all the numbers I’ve called are kind of booked up, that’s all. And I guess - I wanna leave her with someone I trust. Someone I know. At first, anyway.’

You stare at him still, thinking.

‘What are we talking?’

‘Once or twice a week. Three at the very most. Just for late night flights.’ He pauses. ‘I’ll pay you top dollar.’

You make a disapproving noise.

‘You don’t have to pay me, Frankie.’

‘Of course I do, don’t be ridiculous. It’s on your time. And if it helps you out…’ 

You frown at him, but he fixes you with a look. No negotiating. You turn your gaze out to your backyard. 

He watches, nervous, as you chew your thumb.

Your eyes find his again.

‘Can I take work over? To do round yours?’

‘Absolutely.’

‘Do I have to cook?’

‘No. I’ll make sure there’s food. For both of you.’

You nod slowly.

‘And Luc is in bed by…?’

‘Six.’

You nod again.

‘I’m not expecting the whole nine yards,’ he says, shifting. ‘No cookies or playdough, nothing like that. Just someone to look after her. And I’ll still be making calls.’

‘When would you need me?’

Frankie’s mouth twitches. 

‘Thursday this week. Tuesday and Friday next week.’

You take another drink of your wine. 

‘Can I sleep on it?’

‘Of course, bug.’ He smiles. You return it.

‘Then I’ll sleep on it. I’ll see what the schedule’s like and let you know tomorrow.’

His smile widens.

‘Alright. Thank you. Really.’

You stand from your chair, holding up a palm.

‘I ain’t said yes yet, Morales.’

The smile turns goofy.

‘Yes, ma’am.’

He steps away from the counter and pulls you into his arms. Holds you there for a minute, rocking, enjoying the warmth, the closeness, your smell. Reminds himself that it’s weird to think about your scent as much as he does.

You untangle yourself from him, hands on his biceps where you give a little squeeze.

‘Alright,’ you say, ‘Off you go. See if the kid hasn’t burned the house down yet.’

He chuckles as he retreats, backing down your hallway to the open front door.

‘See you tomorrow, teach.’

‘Get lost, Francisco.’

You sign off by flipping each other the bird as he pulls the door shut behind him, just as you usually do.

And as he steps back into his still-quiet house, he tries to tamp down his grin and his fluttering heart, just as he usually does.

You text him two hours later, when he’s fresh from the shower, clad in only his boxers.

Alright, I slept on it. I’ll be round Thursday.

Along with the swell of relief in his chest, this time the grin and the flutter are much harder to smother.

The night before you left for college, you’d had a nightmare.

You weren’t the type to scare easily; eighteen years old and free from any of the real worries the world could bring. And you were so fucking excited for this next adventure, so ready to begin the rest of your life. Still, you’d found yourself doing something you hadn't done since you were a child.

You’d knocked first - softly, so softly. Waited for a come in that never came. Your dad had stirred anyway as you closed the door quietly behind you, turning, half asleep, to see you stood twisting your fingers in the middle of the carpet.

‘Y’alright, sweetheart?’ he’d asked, all gravelly and tender, threatening tears to spill over your lashline.

‘Yeah,’ you’d mumbled, ‘Just had a nightmare.’

He’d simply lifted the covers on the other side of the bed, and you’d slipped into their warmth, scooching into his side, breathing in his smell. He’d cradled you in his arms like you were still a kid - afraid, vulnerable - and you’d let him. Let the tears soak into his shirt. Felt his grip tighten on you, the kiss he pressed to the top of your head. The promise within it, within the cool moonlight bleeding through the curtains. 

If you don’t wanna do it, all you gotta do is say.

He’d known you didn’t need to hear it, knew it was all you’d worked for, dreamed of. So instead, he’d murmured something else.

‘I’m so proud of you.’

You’d nodded into his chest, and he’d waited until the tears stopped falling before he asked if you wanted to talk about it. You hadn’t at first. But he’d always promised that talking about a dream broke it.

‘I dreamt you weren’t here.’

The vision had hung in the room for a moment, lapping against your dad’s quiet breathing.

‘I am. I’m right here, sweetheart.’

You’d nodded again, that deep, swooping panic of being completely alone in the world threatening to claw through your chest and sweep away his comfort. You couldn’t say anything else. Nothing about the empty house you’d seen, the dust sheets covering lonely chairs.

‘Always gonna be here. Can’t get rid of me.’

You’d both known he was wrong. That one day, this night would be a memory. That one day, you’d try to remember what it felt like to be held like this, known like this, try to remember the scent of his sleepshirt, and not be able to. But that would be years - decades - away. Tomorrow you start the beginning of your real, grownup life. Tomorrow, he’ll drive you across the state. He’ll haul your boxes up to your dorm room, and he’ll sit on your bed and look around and smile at you. The smile will be small, full of love, pride, grief. The grief of letting his little girl go, of looking at you and seeing you at all ages at once. Newborn, tiny in his big hands. On his shoulders, laughing at the sky. Nervous on your first day at school. Shy at the gate of highschool. Flying through the years, surrounded by friends, now landing here. 

And when he stands to leave, to tear himself away, the tears will fall again. You’ll say you’re not sure, your whole world rocking, tilting. And he’ll tell you that you might not be, but he is. You’re gonna be great. You’ll be amazing. And his most favourite line of all.

A ship in a harbour is safe. But that’s not what ships were built for.

And you’ll laugh, and you’ll hug him, and you’ll wish you could for a little longer. But you’ll walk him downstairs all the same, out to his car. You’ll shield your eyes and wave until his license plate disappears, and then you’ll cry in the sun until you have a headache. By the time you’re out with your roommate that evening, you’ll feel better. 

You won’t think about whether he cried on the way home, whether his body shook with sobs. Whether he’s sat in front of the TV now, unable to focus on the movie that’s playing because the house is too damn quiet. Won’t think about how, when he tries to sleep, he can still feel that little girl curled up into his side. How he contemplates his own mortality, hopes it won’t come for him for decades, hopes he’ll see you graduate, meet someone, be happy, achieve all you want to.

For now, there is only the blue moonlight, the deep breathing, the warm arms.

And four years later, your nightmare will come true.

You’re awake, though barely. Faintly aware of the wet on your cheeks, of the ache deep in your chest. The memory, the dream. You try to burrow your face into him, try to breathe in his scent, recall the way he talks. And as the same moonlight from the dream floods your vision, you remember. 

Four years later, and the hurt is still as raw. 

You curl into yourself, folding your arms around your body, holding it in, holding it together. Breathe through it - in through the nose, out through the mouth. I love you. I love you. Your voice and your father’s blending together. You try not to let it overwhelm you. Try not to recall all the moments, all the last moments. The hospitals, the treatments, how he wasted away before you, how you could do nothing about it. But it’s hard. So hard, alone, in the middle of the night like this.

When the burn in your throat eases, you reach for your phone. 3:32am. You unlock it out of habit, texts still open. The conversation you’d had with Frankie earlier - times, dates, what he’d make you for dinner. 

You wish they could have met each other. 

You’re sure Frankie would have loved him. Would have loved his laugh, would have shot the shit about baseball, would have clapped him on the back and joined him for beers on the porch like he does with you. And you’re sure your dad would have loved Frankie. Would have seen his kindness, his patience, his humour. A good man, just like he was.

Sometimes, when the younger man leaves your kitchen, your dad appears, sat at the table across from you. 

‘You like him.’ He says. 

‘Come off it, dad,’ like you don’t both know you’re lying. He gives that knowing little shrug. 

‘Whatever, kid,’ he says, ‘I see the way you look at him. Like you looked at - who was it - Jordan, in seventh grade?’ You always throw something at him then. A marker, a highlighter. And he always laughs at you.

You click your phone screen off, bathed in half-darkness once again. Stare at the frozen ceiling fan, the divots and shadows on the ceiling. Tired, but too awake to sleep. 

You grumble as you swing your legs out from the covers, standing from the bed. Pad downstairs in the dark, flick on the kitchen light, fill the kettle and set it to boil. Through the window, across the way, Frankie’s kitchen light is also on. Your brow furrows - this isn’t a time either of you should be awake - but then he appears in the window, shirtless, busying himself with something by the sink, and you quickly avert your eyes. Something you’ve gotten good at doing since you moved here.

Good at desperately trying not to notice his soft curls, the way his biceps stretch his t-shirts, the way his shoulders fill doorways, the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles at you. The way he says your name, the golden skin you’ve glimpsed, the noises he might make -

You roll your eyes at yourself. Crashing out of an engagement, skipping town and developing a crush on the DILF next door is so… you. 

Annie would have gotten a kick out of it, that’s for sure.

The kettle finishes its boil, and you reach for a mug, a tea bag. Watch the tendrils of steam curl from the clutch of the ceramic as you brace your hands on the marble either side of it. You chew the inside of your cheek, head hanging between your shoulders, startling when your phone buzzes, furious-sounding as it crawls across the countertop. 

You know who it is before you see the caller ID. 

‘Hey, neighbour.’

‘Hey, bug.’

You smile into the receiver, holding the mobile to your ear as you move to the sink, adding cold water to the tea. You look up through the window to find Frankie also stood before his, looking back at you. Mercifully, he’s found a shirt, but his bed head still has your stomach turning in cartwheels. 

‘What’s up?’

‘Saw your light on. Wanted to check you’re okay.’

You hold up your mug, cheersing him through the glass. 

‘I’m good. Just having a little drink.’

You watch as he cocks his hip against the counter. 

‘Yeah? What kinda drink you got?’

You exhale through your nose, rolling your eyes. 

‘Chamomile.’

There’s a beat, and then his voice is soft, tender.

‘Y’had a nightmare, too?’

You shake your head.

‘Not a nightmare, just a dream.’

‘Dad?’

You nod, sipping.

‘Yeah. You know how it is. Lucia okay?’

You watch him flick his gaze to the hallway, the stairs beyond your line of sight. Hear the scratch of his whiskers as he rubs at his beard.

‘She’s alright. Nothing a warm milk and her night light can’t fix.’

You smile at him.

‘You remind me of him, you know.’

Frankie pauses his scratching, peering out at you, surprised.

‘You’re a good dad. The best. He was, too.’

Your voice is low, affectionate. Something pulls deep in his gut, something that forces a tight bubble up his throat. He swallows a couple of times, closing his eyes to the kindness.

‘Thank you, bug.’

‘I mean it.’

He nods, voice crackly and deep when it comes to you.

‘I know.’

You watch each other a moment longer, separate rooms, separate houses, such closeness bridging those gaps. Frankie breaks the quiet.

‘You sure you’re okay?’

You smile, nod, sip.

‘I’m sure. Should head back to bed, anyway.’

Frankie hums down the line, thoughtful. A breath whistles through his nose.

‘G’night, bug.’

‘Good night, Fish.’

You wait for the beep of the disconnected line, Frankie’s wave through the window. The hard lump in your throat as you watch him retreat to the doorway of his kitchen, the darkness that stares back at you, the ache of being alone again on this moon of grief. 

And something quieter, more selfish. Creeping and tidal that laps at the edges, a want for a man you have convinced yourself you cannot have. A sadness that buzzes deep in your skin, curls back layers of your being, tells you that you cannot afford to be broken again. Not like your dad. Not like Annie. 

But you like him, your dad says. What’s so wrong with that?

You cocoon yourself tightly in your duvet, your back to the moonlight, the reminders. Tired eyes blinking at the door. Waiting. Waiting, in a different life, different house, different state, for eighteen year old you to tiptoe in and tell you about her nightmare. 

Waiting for you to tell her that her dad is right there.

That she should hold him a little longer before he drives home tomorrow. 

[pralinesims]

HI GUYS <333 I'm sorry for the hiatus recently, as you may remember I have been very sick around my birthday last month (thank you SOOOO EXTREMELY MUCH btw to everyone who thought of me and took their time to send me birthday greetings <3 sooo grateful, ily!)

I still have to live with being sick, as I haven't fully recovered by now, plus it made my chronic illnesses flare up even more, I am pretty much in constant pain atm and really exhausted, as you can imagine all of that also took a toll on my mental health a bit, and my social battery is really low atm. On top of that, RL has been stressful aswell, something always went wrong like. all the time. EVEN MY FREAKING DOOR WENT KABOOM. And that wasn't even the worst thing that happened.

Anyway, I've been really excited bc it's Halloween season currently, so yesterday I started to finish some WIP's that had been cooking for a while, I need a tiny bit more time to wrap up everything, but as soon as I'm done, I'll make a post about it and share my goodies <3

Thank you for reading! And also to everyone who sent me lovely messages, tagged me in stuff, etc, I will try to answer everything ASAP!

[emilybeemartin]

Hey! Hey, would you like to be a park ranger?

USA Jobs just posted a bunch of national park ranger positions for summer 2024--everything from small historic sites to the big flagship parks like Yellowstone and Yosemite. These are seasonal positions specifically for interpretive rangers, which means you begin around May-ish and end around September-October-ish. Interpretation is the branch of the NPS that does educational programming and frontline visitor services, like working in the visitor centers, leading guided walks and talks, and just generally interacting with the public in a friendly, helpful way.

If you have a four-year college degree in just about any subject (honestly, I've worked with people with degrees ranging from theater to business to geoscience), or 12 months' relevant work experience (customer service, retail, education, camp counseling, etc), or a combination of the two, you're eligible to apply. All you need is a resume and transcripts if you're using education to qualify.

Just go to USAJobs.gov and search for "park ranger interpretation" in the search bar. The key things you're looking for in the results are listings from the National Park Service, the code GS 5 (which is the entry level for this position), and the phrase Not to Exceed 1039 hours (which indicates it's a seasonal position).

Some tips!

>Each application requires you to answer a questionnaire about your experience with things like customer service, preparing educational programs, researching scientific topics, etc. Be generous with yourself on these, because other folks will be. Even if you don't think you're an "expert" in something, consider your past work creatively. Have you presented research projects in class? Have you worked retail? Can you keep up a professional demeanor when somebody's upset? You have the qualifications. Rate yourself as such.

>Be thorough and specific in your resume. The NPS isn't a one-pager resume organization. They need to see evidence that you have the qualifications you say you do. The best way to ensure this is to copy, word for word, the phrases in the above questionnaire and insert them in the relevant places in your resume. So if the questionnaire says "Can you research, prepare, and present scientific information to a lay public," go to the appropriate place in your resume and write "I researched, prepared, and presented scientific information to my peers" or something similar. I kid you not, my current resume is ten pages long.

>Cover letters are optional but helpful! There are lots of templates online to help you write one; be sure to be professional. Mine is around 250 words and has three short paragraphs:

1- Position I'm applying for

2- Quick summary of most relevant work/education experience

3- Additional skills/rizz that makes me stand out (for me it's writing/illustrating, which helps me create visitor programs)

>Two things the NPS loves that will boost you are foreign language skills and being a US military veteran. Highlight these elements if you have them.

>Are you a schoolteacher? Check out the Teacher-Ranger-Teacher program.

>The big flashy parks are posted as standalone listings, but most of the others are bundled into "Multiple Locations" that are based on region. Consider applying for many of these smaller monuments and historic sites---they get far fewer applicants and are easier to secure. And many are absolutely beautiful. Want to work at Arches? Also apply to Natural Bridges. Want to work in Yellowstone? Also try Lassen Volcanic. Prefer history over science? You have dozens of amazing options from every facet of American history.

>Apply today! Apply now! Many of these parks cap their applicants because they get so many, and the rest will close after a week or so. A glance at the ones that were posted today and yesterday show them either closing on October 15 or 22. Some regions haven't posted yet, so keep checking the website in the next few weeks.

I love my work as a park ranger---it's such a rewarding way to spend a summer (or two, or ten), and it can open doors to other things. You won't get rich, but you will make great friends and great memories, add a killer section to your resume, and spend four months immersed with smart, passionate people in some of the coolest places in the US.

Plus you get a SICK HAT

[rey-jake-therapist]

What was Galadriel's "last temptation", really?

There's been a lot of discussions about the finals, but there's one big question mark that remains : why were the tracks of the fight called "Last Temptation" and "The Fall of Galadriel" ? For what we could see, Sauron didn't really try to tempt Galadriel again, and she didn't seem even remotely tempted to join him. As for her fall... Well, she fell off the cliff, but the track covers the entirety of the fight, so surely it was meant to have another meaning than a literal fall, right ? And yet, she resisted Sauron again, she didn't fall for him, so what are these titles about ?

I think I know what this is about. I know it for a pretty long time now and have this meta in my mind for quite a while, but yesterday I had a sort of epiphany... Regarding something that Sauron said.

Galadriel's last temptation

We're led to think that there wasn't any temptation, because we expected to see it happening under the guise of manipulation. We all went into episode 8 believing that Sauron would shapeshift into Halbrand and use Galadriel's love for his past self to lure her to the dark side. Then surprise ! Sauron turned into Halbrand indeed, but only for a short while, and not even to tempt her : he wanted to destabilize her because she had just kicked his ass, he looked like an idiot and needed to find something to take the upper hand. But mostly, he wanted to give an answer to her accusation, "We were never alike, it was just another of your illusions". Shapeshifting into Halbrand and repeating what he had told her in season 1 episode 6, then into Galadriel and Celebrimbor all had the same purpose : telling her that she was wrong. They were more alike than she liked to think, and this demonstration was meant to make her accept that. Did it work ? Season 3 will tell, but I think it did.

So, no temptation here. Telling her "the door's still open" was a very vague, brief lived "temptation", but she made her point very clearly by claiming "the door is shut" (spoiler alert : it's not lol), and kicking him in the face. My point is : she wasn't tempted at all, during all this fight, to join Sauron.

So what was it ?

This. This was when the last temptation happened :

(I couldn't find an actual gif from the episode, but as you can guess, it's when Galadriel pretends to give Nenya to Sauron)

Of course ! It's difficult to see it that way because there's almost no talking here. Besides, all that we see at first view is the brutality of his act : it doesn't look like a temptation, because he's taking by force what she refuses to give him. He uses Morgoth's crown to bind her to him against her will, leading us to think that he's no longer asking, and yet the fact remain : he asks her, again, to join him here.

Now that he's bound to her, he has a direct access to his mind, and I assume, she to his. That's why he doesn't need to talk out loud to her to ask her for her ring, as he can speak directly through her mind now. As it's been observed many times, he could have just snatched Nenya from her, like he did with the Nine.

But no, he wants her to accept that his goal is worth all the terrible things he does, and he wants her to give him the means to achieve his true purpose, "heal Middle-Earth". Again, he could just take Nenya and use it; we saw Adar take Nenya by force from Elrond, put it on his finger and successfully use it to heal himself, so Sauron could have just done that too.

So here it is, my friends, the "last temptation". Now that she's bound to Sauron (and she knows she is, her face when he stabbed her told us), it's harder than ever to say no to him. He influenced her already before, but here, well... He literally wormed his way into her mind. As Adar said, "he bores a hole and the rest of him slithers him. For a while, he even lets you believe that his power is yours". I mean, this moment was foreshadowed in episode 6, when Adar warned Galadriel about Sauron's method.

It happened to Adar after he made a blood oath with Sauron, probably this day that Adar tells "Halbrand" about : "He offered me wine, red as a blood moon. He offered me wine and on that dark and nameless peak, I drank it, I drank it all.”

It was probably not wine, folks, but Sauron's blood. That's how he got Adar to fall for him.

And that's why Galadriel lets herself fall off the cliff : because it's the only way she can think of to escape him, or more precisely, to escape the temptation to trust him again, and to join him. It was a desperate act, and not necessarily useful at first view, since her death wouldn't prevent Sauron from taking Nenya and enslave her. As Gil-Galad explains, her immortal spirit would have been drawn into the shadow realm, which Sauron now controls.

It's generally admitted that Galadriel did that to protect her ring from Sauron, but I disagree tbh. I mean, she surely had the vague hope to do that, but he could have easily gone down that cliff, taken Nenya and let Galadriel pass into the Unseen world, where he would have had a total control over her. After all, if he wanted her to be his slave, eternally bound to him, not really dead but not exactly alive either, he could have just let her fall off that cliff without trying to catch her hands. If she hadn't survived the fall, her body would have died but her immortal spirit would remain; she would have been his forever, problem solved.

But I don't think that's what he ever wanted. I think he *asked* for Nenya because he wanted her to submit to him. He wanted her to understand, to validate him at last. I think he would have healed her, if she had given her the ring. I don't think that he's not interested in Galadriel's light anymore. Actually I think he craves it more than ever, and he will probably never stop. And since despite the bond he had just created between them, she still refused, he abandoned, again.

Coming back to Galadriel, if she had access to his mind, she also probably knew that he wouldn't come for Nenya if she killed herself. I mean, it's a logical assumption : if he wanted her to give him Nenya while he could have just taken it, there was no reason to believe that he would have taken it over her dying body. I think it's even possible that she knew that he would want to let her a chance to live, and for this to happen, Nenya was her only chance. It may be delulu to think that scene that way, but it's pretty much the only way for Galadriel's decision to make sense, actually. Because if she wasn't certain that Sauron wouldn't just take Nenya and leave her body to die, it seems pretty useless, in retrospect.

Whatever went through her mind, it was the right choice : he didn't come for her, but looked down to make sure she was alright, sulking like a little boy who broke his favorite toy, killed poor Glug who interrupted him (tbf with Sauron, it was the second time Glug showed up at the wrong time. Can't he ever have a bit of privacy ?!), and looked down again for her.

The "epiphany"

It's interesting that Sauron took the Nine without hesitation, but wanted Galadriel to give hers. And it's what he said that explained this difference to me : "The rings are mine". He was only referring to the Nine here, not to Nenya. Why? Because for him, while the Nine belong to him, Nenya belongs to Galadriel. Each time he refers to it, he says it : "Give me your ring, and the Nine", "Galadriel, give me your ring". Sauron wanted her to have that ring, remember ?

We often joke that since she broke up with him, he wanted "the engagement ring back", but that's not it. Galadriel giving him her ring would have been the confirmation he wanted : that she knew he wanted to heal Middle-Earth, and trusted him to do that. There was no point for him in taking it if her true owner, the one person he gave it to, refused to believe him. That's why he's so miffed at the end, after she jumps. He may even have a moment of self-awareness, where he admits he'll probably never get her back, but will it last? Probably not.

Now that she's bound to him, he will probably be more obsessed and possessive than ever. He put his mark on her, in his mind she's basically his, now.

The Fall of Galadriel

Galadriel fell of the cliff, but she also "fell" when Sauron stabbed her with a dark artefact covered with his blood. By doing so, he not only bound her to him, but he also shared some of his darkness as well. So inevitably, she's going to "fall". If you genuinely believe that her struggles with darkness and temptation for power are all behind her now, that she has "shut the door" for good on Sauron and darkness altogether and that she's ready to become 3rd age ethereal Galadriel... I think you're up for a surprise in season 3. As Gil Galad said, it's no mere wound. Of course it will influence her in the years to come.

Nenya may have healed her and prevented her immortal spirit to be drawn into the Unseen world, but Galadriel will keep carrying that wound all her life. It will damage her, physically but mostly spiritually. She passed one test : she won't ever be tempted again to become Sauron's queen. But her last test, the one that will get her the redemption she longs for, she'll pass it thousands of years later, when Frodo offers the ring and she'll refuse it... The showrunners said that she Galadriel knew that having the One ring would be dangerous, because she knew what she was capable of, and not in the good way. We haven't seen anything of that in Galadriel, yet, so believing that the dark times are behind her and that she's ready to become the Lady of Light and quietly move on with her life... Is wanting her to run before learning to walk, imho.

And don't you doubt that Sauron is letting her forget that she's forever connected to him through an indestructible bound now... He will definitely use that access. He won't just throw rocks at the window hoping she'll open. That will come much later, imho.

[samodivaa]

Deny the truth,set my world on fire (Part 2)

Bucky Barnes x Reader (Winter Soldier x Reader)

Part 1⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ Part 3 ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆* Part 4⋆*･ﾟ:⋆* He knew that she was having an affair...she denies, but the love marks on her body are still there. She can't tell him the truth, it will break him - the Winter Soldier is indeed inside of him, fucking her at night and Bucky doesn't remember. ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ Warnings - heavy angst ,stalking, attempted murder SMUT - non consensual, dom!Soldat, rough!Soldat, choking, knife kink, blood kink, Russian roulette ,degrading in Russian, harsh slapping, hair pulling, fuck toy!reader. Words - 4000

Bucky is non stop destroying what is left of his heart by constantly thinking about things that have broken him recently. He roots in alcohol, in misery, barely alive in his silent way. Sometimes he gets so drunk that he could hear y/n’s voice calling him at the door as she is coming home with groceries – sick with love. Their shared apartment will never be complete again, because part of his heart is elsewhere. He needs to feel at home in something, but this is the price he pays for the richness of loving and trusting. In this world he didn’t know what the color of love is – yet he is still deeply stained by hers, but maybe there is no love on earth for him, expect the one he imagined. His body felt the sadness that his soul couldn’t fully register. „Love is a sacrament that should be taken kneeling — Oscar Wilde“ one of her favorite quotes. How long will his ruined being still burn?

Bucky is falling apart – the deeply sealed stitches of the nightmares, began to tear apart, not letting him sleep peacefully. He grasps the extend of the loneliness and desertion that he is exposed to. For the first time in forever, there is a complete absence of emotional understating from her – his heart is heavy like an anchor, holding him still in the mist of the storms in his soul. And pain knows a way into every crevice – slowly gaping a hole into the abyss of Winter. Seasons change with the scenery of his emotions and the sky is a hazy shade of winter, there will soon be patch of snow on the ground, shallowing him whole. His heart begins to ache when he hears a knock on his door. It taints the very air he breathes with streams of hope. The greed of love, reeks of desperation as he runs to the door to open it.

„Sam?��� Bucky says, his eyes confess the fatigue of his living. He lets out a breath, before putting on a smile and forcing a laugh „What brought you here?“   „I came to check up on you, you are not picking up your phone…again“ His eyebrows raise slightly in surprise as he stares, not knowing how to respond. "Y/n told me...what happened" Bucky sighs and leans against the door frame. Eyes filled with pure acrimony - puffiness under the eyes. He stands hesitant, his soul floating with embarrassment. “Really? She did? Does all of New York know, now? Because it really feels like it“ Bucky says, his voice calm but the anger stands in his words like a flame. He furrows his brows, not only in anger, but in confusion too. Why did she talk with Sam about it? Why does he know more? “You know why she left…?” he questions with urgency, taking a deep breath before chewing on his bottom lip nervously. „Yeah…she told me.“ Sam answers, keeping his voice low. His eyes spoke so many unspoken words, begging Sam not to press on the matter, his face forming into a slight frown and his eyes narrowing for a split second. He’s clearly not happy about her decision of talking with Sam behind his back. „So, um…when do we start with the case of the missing CIA agent? I saw the files you send me yesterday“ Bucky needs to change the subject, a source of a painful reminder to Sam to be more cautious around him. „There is no need for you to come, I can deal with it alone…and the CIA will provide assistance, too“ „The CIA? Isn’t Y/n coming with us…?“ Bucky gulps, twisting the words into what he really wants to know.

„She…she won’t work with us anymore, she decided to join the CIA“ „What? Under whose command?“ It was awkward as they both stared at each other in, sitting engulfed in suffocating silence for a minute before Sam decided to answer. „Walker“ He bites the inside of his cheek, his head whips from side to side with nothing, but pure horror. Sam was simply waiting for Bucky to explore , whereas Bucky was trying to figure out and just process what had just heard. Hiding shaky hands in their pockets, hiding any evidence of his distress. His chest heaving with ragged breaths, trying to hold back his tears. When a man learns to feel love, he must also bear the risk of feeling hate.

„This…“ his words get catch up in his throat before he forces them out „The nerve-“ Bucky thinks to himself, before letting out a deep sigh and shaking his head in disbelief. „We are her team. What the hell is she thinking?“  he shakes his head, clearly frustrated. „They don’t even get along-“ he trails off at the end realizing that it was a cover up for their affair, it all made sense now. „-well…I guess that just…saves me from another discussion. If she‘s with Walker now, then she…has chosen her side. I…I just need some time to process this…“ „It is okay, Bucky…you need a break“ even when life has forgotten him once again, Sam is there – holding his hand, not letting him fall. „No, Sam I can’t leave you alone in this“ „Bucky, listen to me…if I need you I swear I will call, okay?“ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Bucky’s eyes have finally glazed over, something snaps in him as he closes the door. His lip trembles, and he bites it in hopes of stopping the tears that begin to build. He wanted to let go of the pain even though it was the last thing that feels alive from her. Love, he’d seen and experienced in his own way - a powerful emotion. It brought them together, gave them a reason to fight, and a purpose outside themselves. Love made him stronger and more capable of facing the challenges of a difficult extended life. ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

„Good job today, y/n, wanna grab a coffee and discuss more?“ Walker was so cooky when she called him, sensing that something between you and Bucky happened. He wasted no time In seducing you, he was devoted to earning your love. „Yeah I-“ The moment y/n laid your eyes on him, she knew. As if time pauses itself, her brain is in a total blur when she spots him coming closer to them, one hand stiffed in his jacket, the left holding a gun and that is what divulges it. It was a joy to be hidden in the crowd and a disaster to be found. Bucky put all of his energy into protecting himself, developing a terrifying survival strategy. The Soldat’s behaviors, classified as psychiatric problems – obsessions, compulsions – his most destructive behavior, started unwillingly as a strategy for self-protection of his true self. Winter’s love for her flesh is a like a flower flooded with blood – opening new wounds, making them a garden of a reminder for his sadistic ways. Y/n pivot on her heels, decision resolute – to get closer to him, hugging him. „Hey Bucky, oh my gosh! Thank-k you for bringing my revolver back!“ this was the only idea she had. Her immediate reaction is to hide her face in his chest after giving him a hug, but he prevents her from doing so as he uses his other hand to cup her chin and steer her gaze back onto his. Y/n’s brain malfunctions before putting a hand on the gun as his grip loosens, allowing her to retrieve it in her pocket of her sweetheart. A disgusting public display of affection and ownership the Soldier never showed before. „Do you want me to shot him?“ She is happy that he says something that resembles Bucky as she turns her back to him, facing John. An enlarged hand grasps hers, and she stops in her tracks, back still towards him. He’s nonchalant when he speaks, his grip on the small hand loosens when she turns her full attention back on him, but he still keeps ahold on y/n’s hand in case she dares to look at John. „Sorry, John maybe next time…“ Pursing her lips as she replies, not removing her gaze from the empty blue eyes. What abuses has she endured on her heart from him –  secret.

Walker’s dimpled smile is on display, meant for y/n only, but she is occupied and he spins around to head to the coffee shop alone. ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ Despite thinking that she has the strength, the will to do it, it starts to dawn on her that maybe she didn’t. She couldn’t fight him off, he requires her body once again. She is caught in a tide of lust and control – haunting the world inside of her. She is alone and if she wants to please him, she might as well do it honest, adorned in blood and bruises, all pain inflicted upon this body must keep his from the world, from Bucky, from her Bucky. In agony, in love, in worry – she is there for both of them. Metal fingers find the crest of her waist, his other hand skating slowly down the skin, from the chin to her neck, squeezing slightly. His erection crowds in her leg, rolling his hips into hers, the metal hand on her waist clamps tighter leaving the first marks of his assault. He starts flooding her with tiny kisses as she wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. That unexpected movement makes him groan. „Ты мне нужен сегодня ночью...“ (I really need you tonight...) he whispers, his breath tickling her ear. In between kisses, he adds - the shell of a man speaking to you „Ты не можешь убежать от меня“ (You can’t run away from me) „Так вот, я бежать не хочу.“ (I don’t want to run) Soldat was stunned to hear her speak Russian. His fingers came up to trace her jawline, the cold metal leaving tingles on her smooth skin. Something in him changed - her grief like a migraine, she is the only scapegoat from his wretched humanity. Shall she grieve ? Shall she hope? Metal fingers danced through her hair, pulling it into a makeshift ponytail as the human hand started choking her slightly. „Пошли домой“ (Lets go home) „Ужасно хочу тебя трахнуть прямо сейчас“ (I really want to fuck you right now) he argues weakly, still struggling to control his breath.

Y/n’s stomach does a flip. She blinks for a few moments, trying to neutralize the look of worry that is sure is scrawled across her angel face. ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ Emotionally, she wanted to stay in hopes that Bucky comes back soon. Intellectually, she wanted to leave – but she has to punish herself so that after the she drinks of winter, spring will bloom. It was the first time that the Soldier came at daylight - her heart is sick of being in chains, but she is the savior as the winter takes one more cherry tree from the depths of her soul. He watched her for weeks, making sure no one touches his precious flower and here it is, the dark thing, the dark thing he has longed for months – at his mercy. He towering over her as he closes the distance between you. She lets out a deep sigh when he pulls away, eyes softening. “Can I?” She asks quietly and puts her long nails on his neck, drawing circles with fingers as red lines starts to form. The Soldat couldn’t speak, he just nods, moving his head to the side in order to give her flesh to explore. He growls shamelessly at her butterfly kisses across his neck, gliding her tongue along his earlobe, biting down gently to earn a groan. She's gentle, soft. Of course she smells of roses, but there's a bit of perfume as well while he smells of whiskey and misery.  She slaps the soldier harshly across the face, making his head turn to the other side - now her tongue is sucking and licking there and his arms squeeze her waist, pressing himself to her warmth. Y/n gives him a proper kiss for the first time.  Short, and just on the lips. It was meant for Bucky.

He had enough, Soldat grabs a fistful of her hair with one hand, pushing her down roughly to her knees. His calloused fingers graze over her chin, making her look up at him. She peers up at him meeting the blue eyes through dark lashes. Already her mouth is open, tongue hanging out, wordlessly pleading for him – anything. His dick twitches in his jeans. He slowly stuffs human fingers into her mouth, groaning as her lips fall around them, sucking like it is his dick. Y/n whimpers at the low timbre of his voice as he pulls her back by the hair, just to enjoy the sight before adding a third finger. She can only imagine what he must have planned for tonight. She immediately freezes up when his fingers leave – peering up at him from the floor while promptly undoing his belt, shallow gasp escapes her lips, wanting nothing more than to wrap her lips around his cock, its been a long time. Y/n catches her final deep breaths as she licks every single finger of her hands before putting them around his base. She gives the tip a modest, teasing lick before running her tongue around it is a talent of hers – both Bucky and Winter love it – wiftly swallowing every inch of him down her throat. Suddenly she feels his strong hand again, whirling around her hair more and pressing her down to his public region. She gags at the sudden intrusion, gurgling sounds fill the room and y/n eyes water, fucking her mouth with no mercy. His fiery blue eyes were almost widened from shock as he stares back at her, trying to steady his shaky breaths. He groans through gritted teeth as he forces her to take him further into her mouth. Quiet hums sent vibrations up through his cock causing shudders to crawl down his thighs. Soldat’s body shakes with pleasure as he forces his way into her mouth. Tears run down, mixing with the drool that's splashed around. His eyes roll back in pleasure - just playing around with his flower, while she stays all quiet and docile. Right now, she is shameless, she is still listening to the melody of his sounds - grunting and trying not to be too loud as he barely holds it. Her mouth tights as he hits the back of her throat over and over again while digging her nails in his tights to let him know that it is too much. Y/n attempts to breathe, but it results in more gagging noises and he locks her in that position – enjoying every tear that drops on her cheeks. He leans his head back and when she sucks on the tip, circling her delicate tongue around it as she restrains him in a vacuum-sealed, holding it in her mouth. He blacks out when he comes, the body tenses hard and then liquids rush into her mouth. He feels his knees buckle slightly at the sensation with an even heavier groan escaping his lips. Soldat withdrawals from her mouth slowly as she licks her lips to assure there is nothing left behind, he smirks looking down and decides to pull her back up by her hair. He throws her onto the bed, sighing and undoing his pants, removing them completely. He feels so high with this much adrenalin, with this much power and freedom. The knife is already in his hand, cutting through clothes. The marks on her body are his greatest mastery, Soldat’ smile lingers at the thought of leaving them all over. He trails the tip of it down to the edge of her panties, gulping slowly – with so much time and freedom he is unsure of his choice of action. He is still over the underwear, playing with the knife, seeing how deep the fabric can dip, tracing the folds he can reach, feeling how utterly soaked she is with precise precision of the blade.

The knife slices them as he lets out a whimper which causes her to twitch with fear, staring up at her incubus. Soldat presses the cool blade to her throat, a small line of blood starts to form. She cries out – a masochistic mixture of euphoria and pain. The knife is removed from her neck and replaced by his vibranian arm. He squeezes until he is satisfied with the angel eyes full of tears, she loves the way he is choking her…almost to death. He growls as he touches his dick with his hand, slowly forces his length into her, a throaty groan escaping his lips. They share a sickness that doesn't need fixing at all…flatline the heart, discard the brain - change her into whatever you feel like, she is not going anywhere.

He closes his eyes, lost in the moment – his own knife is pressed against his throat – she presses and the red pearls falls on her face and neck and that. It stings and Soldat whimpers about the pain, twitching inside her. He smirks, leaning down to her ear…leaning into the knife as more blood starts to flow. He growls lowly into her ear, sending a shiver down her spine, grunting with every merciless thrust that lurches her body with it, his hot breath - intoxicating.

„Из-за тебя я отлично чувствую этот нож….ласковый цветочек“ (Because of you, the touch of the knife fees good…tender flower) „Поцелуй меня“ (Kiss me) Before she can register what’s happening, she drops the knife to the side of her head and kisses him. His hand collides with her cheek, stinging and bringing more tears, biting her shoulder as his thrusts get rougher, the unwanted orgasm too close to be postponed any longer. His cock is throbbing, shooting load after load of warm, sticky cum. Even after cumming, he can't bring myself to stop the assault - planning an overdose on orgasms tonight. Y/n whines at the lost of the feeling of his body, but he flips her over like a drag doll, onto her stomach and she instinctively raises her ass into the air, waiting for him. He gathers both her wetness and cum with his two vibranium fingers, forcing their way inside of her hole with a brutal pace as his other hand shoves her back down into the mattress. Y/n let her eyes flutter shut when he brushed over the clit, hips jolting up and craving for more fingers. He groans into her skin at her reaction, leaving a trail of teeth makes on the back on her neck. The feeling of delight was unfortunately short-lived, however – he doesn’t plan on her cumming tonight. He is still jealous of her interactions with John for the past weeks, he planned on killing him before she stopped him. He turns her around, on her back as he soon fasted her pussy, his lips latches onto the clit, circling it with his warm, wet tongue. She writhes in pleasure beneath him at the duo sensation of his metal fingers moving inside and his mouth on the clit….but everything stops. Again. Again. Again. „Please, please…Bucky…“ she murmurs, she misses every part of him. „У меня ничего не осталось от моего другого я“ (Now I have nothing of my other self) „Здесь только мы с тобой“ (Only you and me here) Y/n looks down at him, the Soldier looking back from between her legs, not seeing his wide grin. He doesn’t like it when y/n mentions Bucky, but he is too dizzy from the pleasure, not punishing her for now, only giving a warning in Russian. He gives the clit one last abrupt lick before flopping down in the middle of the bed, slapping his thighs and commanding her to sit "Ride me" She hovering above his cock, sliding in one motion. She moans shamelessly as she finds a suitable rhythm, her hands firmly planting onto his neck and he mirrors her act, squeezing her tightly at her neck. As he is closer to the edge his sadist mind deprives her of any oxygen, her struggles to stay conscious and that slowly drives him over the edge - his throaty moans fill the room as he slams deep for the final time. Y/’s body is writhing, but his hand around her neck keeps her in place, knowing there’s no use in trying to fight him off.

As the grip around her neck looses she opens her mouth to take deep breaths. He takes advantage of this by spitting into it.

„Как ты, дорогая“ (How are you, darling?)

Soldat slaps her cheek, urging her to respond, but her head is so foggy with pleasure that the reaction is delayed.

„Я в порядке“ (I am fine)

„Грязная шалава“ (Dirty bitch)

He glared at her intensely and when his brain had fully calmed down, he flips her over onto her back so that he was on top. He wastes no time in pinning both her small arms above her head, hurling both over her legs over his shoulders as he starts slamming back inside. Closing her eyes, trembling with fear. There is a little cold kiss on her forehead and when he opens her eyes – her own revolver. He shows y/n the single round before placing it back, spinning the cylinder – Russian roulette. They stand together set in stone, hearts open wide - flames of afterlife getting closer. He counts to three and pulls the trigger. Her whole body tenses up, eyes closed. The Soldier exhales slowly, watching her eyes full of tears, shallowed by fear. „Your turn“

But the concept of it seems less gruesome then reality. The time seemingly stopped for a moment. Every time she blinked it presented itself. Memories. Regrets. Love. Fear.

The revolver feels impossibly heavy in her unsteady hands. Soldat takes a deep inhale through the nose as he eyes close. Index finger rests on the trigger. Click. Her soul is in a constant struggle between her need for Bucky, fear of losing him, and a desire to executes the Soldier herself. She was never really insane except upon occasions when Soldat played too much with her heart. His cold laugh alone drives her to tears, his pulsing cock starts pounding into her again – y/n is trapped in a nightmare, breathing just a little, calling it life. She wants a version of herself that isn’t neck-deep absorbed in this filth. „Bring him back…“ she is prepared to be devastated, but there was a need to confess. A misfit, people wanted to lock him in, but there she is – satisfying both of the Winter Soldier’s and Bucky’s needs…oh yeah, will Bucky remember when he comes back? ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

When she wakes up, he is gone. Y/n decides to look at herself in the mirror – there is a huge bruise on her neck as If she is stripped of beauty. She laughs, then she cries, choking on tears – haunted down by the Soldier even though she tries to stay away. Sometimes love is a slow burn that keeps you warm, and sometimes it's a bonfire that can't be contained…she is so worried about Bucky, the love in her heart demanding for his presence. Without him, she is nothing but a faint noise. She has to call him, to make sure that he is back after weeks wasted by stalking her as the Soldier. „Doll…why are you calling?“ The line goes dead. ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✭TAG LIST ✭ @smplymrvl @i-want-to-be-hit-by-a-car @msoldier @marvelxlevram @lovelywritinglady ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ "Fine, I'll do it myself." - me writing fics about daddy Soldat THIS IS WHAT I AM HERE FOR - THE WINTER SOLDIER LMAO BARKING RN

[inevitably-johnlocked]

hey, steph! how are you, like, genuinely? not the small talk. i wanna listen

Hey Lovely 💜🖤

I want to apologize for putting this off for so long... which should be a clue as to how I am actually doing.

Honestly? Not good, but I'm trying my best. It's been... a time. Will put under a cut for those who don't want to read about the tagged items.

TL;DR – my real life is a bit chaotic, and I hide a lot from y'all because I REALLY try not to be negative here since my blog is where I come to be happy AND because I am a very private person, but I try my best to just keep going day to day as the chaos settles down slowly.

I've got some good things coming though, so I hope a week's rest next week when I'm off (and will probably take a break from here too) will reset my brain.

Work has been insane, and is most of the cause of my mental distress for the past few months. From Easter until Canada Day Weekend at my job is lovingly referred to as "Silly Season" simply because of how on-the-fly, balls-to-the-wall our workload is until summertime downtime officially begins for us. Without disclosing too much, it's basically non-stop, long hours for me until one of the 3 break weeks we get during the this long stretch happens where, incidentally because of the nature of my job and the team I work on, it actually gets BUSIER for us.

It actually ended earlier than we expected this year (yesterday) and we'll be "quieter" until the end of September now. See an opportunity, I actually took next week off between the two long weekends because my mental health has taken a severe hit and I'm having trouble just... enjoying things? I'm haven't gamed or drew in a few weeks, and blogging and writing feels like a chore. I literally just come home, file this blog, reply to one or two asks, and then go to bed, and do it all over again the next day. Day in and day out, for 3 months. On weekends I have to force myself out of my apartment because I KNOW I will sink lower if I don't leave.

On top of that, my brain has convinced me that literally everyone hates me: friends, coworkers, family, you guys, my damned plants. I just feel very alone these days and... I'll be real here, I've almost abandoned this blog a few times in the past few months. I feel like I make fic lists that no one reblogs or likes and tell me they're all shit. I post my art and I barely break 20 notes. I write something and I get maybe 2 likes. I can't really answer any thoughtful asks because my mental state's been in the shitter for months. I desperately want to reply to the few sexuality asks I have and I physically can't. Being on my computer – after working ON a computer for my day job for 12 hour days everyday – feels like too much, so I try to limit my time on the blog now too.

I just try to keep carrying on, encouraged by the once-in-a-blue-moon testimonial ask I get thanking me for still being here. I thank YOU guys for reminding me that people still like coming here.

Stressed about money and food and rent just like everyone else, and just getting frustrated at other things.

And finally, my uncle (my dad's brother and my godfather) hasn't been doing well health-wise, and he's being moved to assisted living next week. His health has been declining since Easter, so it's been a bit of worrying time for relatives.

Having my therapist helps a lot. She talks me through a lot of my complicated feelings, my sense of self and ways to cope with my anxiety and stress. I'm talking to her again next week, so no worries, gang. As I said, I just keep on keeping on.

Some positivity though:

I booked next week off to try to just... recenter myself. To forget about everything and TRY to get back to doing the things I love. I will probably take a break from this blog as well during that time to limit my social-media time. It's not ideal but I need a break from my computer, I think.

I go to the gym a lot more these days, which has helped with the seething annoyance I constantly have at work. Usually feel better after it.

And because of the gym and getting out more, I've been slowly feeling better physically, better than I have since before 2019. The break from work is for the mental health, LOL.

I'm getting my hair recoloured next week. Can't afford it, really, but I just REALLY need to feel better about myself again, and I always feel so different when I colour my hair. I was doing so good for awhile. I want that again.

Anyway, I'm sorry to bombard y'all with my complicated mess of a brain. I really do appreciate you asking, so THANK YOU. I rarely get asked in real life if I am okay because I keep very private due to past people betraying my trust. And I don't like seeing people unhappy, so I feel if I tell people about my problems, then I feel I am a burden, so I just... continue existing.

Thank you for letting me be a burden just this once.

[cher-rei]

afterglow pt- 13 [ T.A.A ]

pairings: trent alexander arnold x fem!reader

summary: young and aspiring marketing and business major jamie carter (you) is privileged with working alongside the liverpool marketing and public relations team while also getting entangled with their star player and right back, trent alexander arnold.

genre(s): friends to lovers, fluff, slowish?? burn and just a good time

[wc: 5.3k] afterglow masterlist

notes: rahhhhhh!!!

spamjam._.

liked by liverpoolfc and 3 244 225 others

spamjam._. may 24th anyone? [tagged: taylorhinds]

view all comments below

taylorhinds 👀💜 [liked by spamjam._.]

liverpoolfc collab of the century I fear

→ spamjam._. if you know, you know 🤞🏻

user collab?? are they doing a photoshoot together or something?

→ user probably, you know how jamie is and her random promo photoshoots for brands 😭

→ user take back to the adidas shoot last year omw

→ user life was so much easier back then

virgilvandijk oh, so you were serious? 😂

→ spamjam._. I had a 10 hour board meeting yesterday for this. don't test my commitment 🙄

trentarnold66 she's a baller 🥵 [liked by spamjam._.]

harvelliot LET'S GO!! COUNT YOUR DAYS ON THAT PITCH

fía.messi bro has me flying over for this 😭 [liked by spamjam._.]

→ spamjam._. I couldn't get your dad so I had to settle for the next best thing (and mateo is only 10 so I had to choose you 😔)

"what's the date today?"

"the 23rd," laura answered promptly and went back to typing something on her laptop while the rest of your media team carried on with their personal tasks in the meeting room.

you stood at the whiteboard in front— a black marker in one hand and your ipad in the other as you wrote out and marked certain dates down and finalised a few things.

"okay." you tapped the marker on your chin and took a step back from the board, gaining everyone's attention. "those pictures are up for the efl final, but I'm going to need a date for next week for my meeting with the set designers and stylists because I have a few ideas for the launch."

sienna, another member of your media team was quick to check her calender, her email set up on her desktop. "you're good for march 4th if we're set to release the shoot may 7th."

you bit the inside of your cheek as you thought for a moment. "put it down. I'd also like an update on the news for the boss' special collection and," you wrote down something under the title national duty. "I need the flags ordered asap."

the room fell silent after that, everyone in their own headspace while the sound of keyboards clicking sounded through the room. you wanted to make next season's kit release a big one, the board giving you three words to ride off of and the mock design for the kit a few months ago.

you quite liked the tribute to the design and after consulting a few close professionals (sophia and alexandra) there was an idea of what you were going for. the idea of a more sophisticated look and aesthetic ran through your mind, the question of how would you style the jersey yourself playing a role.

"moped," you blurted which got you a few strange looks. "I want a moped for the shoot."

logan, who was silent for most the of the meeting eyed you for a second. "like the scooter?"

"the bike from that one disney movie?" laura followed and pulled up her pinterest page, moving her laptop to show you and you nodded, writing it down under the kit launch column on the board.

"I want it in red and maroon and see if they can get the jersey design on it," you said while tieing up your hair because this was oh so obviously only the beginning of the meeting.

you had been so busy the past few hours, confined between four walls that the only sunlight you were getting was the light emitting from the passage through the simgular glass wall of your meeting room that overlooked the second floor. your phone was probably buzzing with messages from clara asking you when you were free for your lunch break but that was the last of your worries.

but eventually something caught your attention from the corner of your eye as you stood in front of your team, going over some extra details. "the videographers are working on it currently so all we nee--"

you paused mid-sentence, the glimpse of a figure strolling past the room catching your attention for a moment. "uhm, all we need is to check if..."

they walked past again, only this time at a pace that was definitely noticeable. normally you would've disregarded trent's childish behaviour in the middle of work but everyone was growing agitated and needed a break.

you flicked your attention from your team to trent who was strolling along with his hands in his pockets, only to come back a second time, then a third until your team gradually noticed him. your lips drew into a thin line as he sent them a small wave, pretending to be busy.

"okay, everyone we can take a break." you set the markers down, their thankful sighs of relied making you laugh. "I'll see you in 45, okay?"

the seven of your team members flooded out the door in no time, leaving you alone while trent waited until they were out of sight to finally enter the room. he walked up you the whiteboard beside you, trying to act as if he knew what any of the writing meant while you continued to joy a few things down.

"don't try anything, the walls are literally made of glass," you said unbothered without taking your attention off of the work in front of you.

from beside you trent mocked an expression of hurt, offended that you'd accuse him of coming here just to do something. "I wasn't going to. I came here because I just happened to be walking by after our gym session," he answered, the lie dripping off his tongue effortlessly and you gave him a look.

you didn't respond, instead becoming immersed in your work once again. the marker in your hand moved between the spaces of your fingers, a pout forming on your lips as you concentrated.

don't get him wrong, trent found it extremely attractive that you were in your element— your hair messily tied up, the marker in your hand spinning between your fingers and the look of determination on your face made him crazy. but he was just a man after all and wanted to spend some time with his... free trial user.

with a sigh he sat down at the desk, spinning aimlessly on the chair to try and cure his boredom. he hated this— referring to the lack of privacy in the room because the blinds were open. suddenly, he perked up at the sound of your voice, but to his dismay, you weren't talking to him and were on the phone with someone he didn't care about.

"yes, I'd like to keep them neutral but you can have a selection and we can test them out on the day of the shoot," you said and hurried back to the whiteboard to write something down.

the sound of the marker squeaking on the board made trent cringe, that and he wished that you'd just sit down for one second. when the call ended, you felt the his eyes on you, a look of judgement perhaps? but what did he expect? you were at work and had to get things done.

"someone's cranky," you joked while flipping through a binder.

he threw his head back with a scoff. "well yeah, you're not even looking at me. you probably don't even care that I'm here right now."

really now? you rolled your eyes at his exaggeration, a smile dancing on your lips. "a lot needs to be done before the end of the month unfortunately and I'm kind of in charge of that." you scrunched your nose at the last part, the feeling of admitting that you were in charge sending a weird surge through your body.

tent pursed his lips, his look softening at the way you continued to flip through the binder, mumbling to yourself about not finding something. "I know but--"

"--there aren't any 'buts'." you put your hands on your hips, sending him a stern look to showcase your point. "you're supposed to be focusing on recovering. it's already an issue that you won't be playing sunday, we need you fit for the last few games of the season at least."

the room fell silent again, slight tension building up but you didn't care because it was the truth. it wasn't just him— it was curtis, darwin, mo and dominik as well. a few of their most crucial players were injured and unfortunately that make their chances of winning slimmer. and as excited as everyone was to play on sunday— the kids included even if they only got about five minutes of playtime, but this was still a final.

the coaching staff was agitated, virgil didn't know how if the chelsea squad were going to put up a fight and the injured players were beating themselves up. it wasn't an easy time for anyone right now, but they needed to focus. and right now, it seemed that trent wasn't getting the message.

it was unlike him, and you could see from the way that his leg anxiously bounced up and down that he knew that. so as much as you needed to reprimand him and remind him of what needed to be done, you could also tell that he wasn't okay.

with a sigh, you put down your things and went to lock the office door and close the blinds. the room was encapsulated in slight darkness again, prompting you to switch on the overhead lights that weren't needed earlier on.

trent remained quiet though, even when you came to sit down on the table in front of him. you looked down at him, the footballer leaning back in the chair.

"talk to me, what's bothering you?" your voice was laced with genuine worry and it made him ease into his seat further.

"nothing's wrong. I just wanted to see you but I guess it's a bad time." he plainly shrugged his shoulders, a look of mock dismissal on his face.

you quirked an eyebrow at his answer. "that's the worst lie you could've come up with right now." despite your targeted response you gently took his hand into yours and prompted him to speak. "is it because you're benched for the rest of the month?"

"yes and no," he said, looking up at you. "yes because I let the team down when they need all the help they can get. this is important to all of us and ever since my stupid knee happened I've been acting up."

he didn't need to mention it, but he was referring to the match against burnley where he was subbed off at halftime. you knew that it took a toll on his confidence, both on and off the pitch. there wasn't much you could do unfortunately besides comfort him.

"don't look at me like that," he groaned and leant forward to rest his head on your thigh, the embarrassment sinking in. "I sound so emotional, my ego is buried six feet under right now."

you stifled a laugh at his retort and let your hands run gently up and down his back. "it's okay. I'll ask harvey to pick it up for you, it's not a problem for him."

trent couldn't help but laugh, the feeling of his fingers trialing your thigh sent a shiver through your body. the two of you held that position for a bit longer, the feeling of being near each other enough to ease your respective anxiety.

"you're going to get better okay?" you said softly and he hummed in response. "whatever happens, happens but you need to do what you can. that's all that matters, so for now you're going to be the best bench warmer ever and support your team."

it was the day of the efl final and the team was ready— standing ready with their mascots at their sides in the tunnel that you were running through to make some last minute checks.

maya messaged earlier on in the day to say that they'd be at the match today and you couldn't wait to see them again after such a long time, especially alex who was apparently extremely excited to be here.

today more than ever you wore your liverpool jersey proudly only to be called out for wearing it by a familiar face. you just finished wishing the team goodluck when a chelsea player caught your attention in the line beside you.

you eyes rolled at the sound of the voice but you turned to look at him nonetheless, the smile on your lips slightly forced. "colwill."

levi put out his hand for you to take into a friendly handshake, a cheeky smile on his face as he looked you up and down. "It's always weird to see you in anything other than blue. you switching sides for the day?"

the backhanded comment was obviously a joke, it was natural for the two of you to have banter like this despite the fact that it had been years since you last talked to each other. from the line beside you, harvey was shamelessly watching the back and forth.

it made no sense to him that you always knew someone. in every situation and match of theirs, there was always someone that you knew.

you scrunched your nose at levi, not liking the idea of wearing a chelsea jersey. "we'll leave those blue days of mine at the academy thanks. good luck for today though, you're going to need it."

levi stifled a laugh at your goodbye and watched as you left the tunnel, old memories flooding back but never staying.

"academy?" harvey asked out loud, not meaning for levi to hear but he did and nodded. when he told harvey that you played for the chelsea academy before you left london it raised some intrigue amongst the reds on his side.

judging by their facial expressions he could tell that it wasn't something you liked to talk about. "she got called up a bunch of times for the first team but never took the offer. first time around she was 15."

there was no other reaction from harvey other than an irritated groan, his head shaking to the side as they started to make their way out of the tunnel. "she's lived 100 lives I'm telling you."

from behind him, andy hurriedly shushed him, the laugh barely staying inside because of the strange encounter. but harvey was right— it felt like you've lived 100 lives because there was a piece of you everywhere, a piece of you imprinted within the memory of so many people.

"the carter effect," harvey mumbled to himself with slight distaste as he stood in his position on the pitch waiting for the whistle to blow.

agonising. that's how you'd describe the first of the match. it was like a game of tennis— back and forth but the team was showing resilience against chelsea and their 10 man defence strategy. the man to man marking made you want to scream, because this was not the strategy of a team that knew that they were going to win.

"fucking cowards," you muttered under your breath and jayden danns— one of the kids who were newer to the first team bench, gave you a look.

feeling his judgemental gaze on your side you looked at him with widened eyes, gesturing to the pitch. "it's the truth. you can't play football like this, it's disgraceful."

from the seat beside you, bobby clark, another one of the children (as you liked to call them) spoke up and asked you about how long the chelsea squad could play defence. there wasn't a definite answer on your side as you sat with your hand on your chin in thought.

eventually, it had all the kids in thought, all five of the boys that you were looking after watching with determined eyes to see if there was a break in chelsea's defence.

"the only forward who they're expecting to score is palmer," james said and you scoffed, the rest of the bench chiming in to talk about cole palmer's recent performance and how it's been saving chelsea a ton.

spamjam._. added to their story!

amongst the chatter, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. the name that popped up on your notification center made you smile— trent who was sitting in the stands with the rest of the injured players.

the last few minutes of the first half played out in a way that had your blood boiling. conor who was starting in trent's position today was playing exceptionally well for his first official start for the team, but someone else saw that as a threat apparently.

one shove from ben chilwell on conor had you out of your seat in an instant. the two players managed to fall on top of each other because of conor's honest tackle, and ben chilwell saw it as a challenge for something more.

seconds away from half time and a fight was about to break out and naturally the liverpool players tried to stop it, with a few players feeling provoked (cody and harvey). luckily it was broken up before anyone got seriously hurt, but by then you were already on the touchline alongside jurgen waiting to jump in.

the half-time whistle blew and you watched with distaste as they walked into the tunnel. instead of going up to the press room like you normally would, you decided to take a quick trip into the stands where the injured players were. you were alone today, and for another 4 months because clara was officially on maternity leave.

she was nearly 5 months into her pregnancy, but you still couldn't get behind your stupidity and not noticing any sooner. the signs were blatantly obvious but you thought it was normal— the loose clothing, strange cravings and her mood swings were nothing out of the ordinary.

she was doing well though, and was staying with her parents for the time being or at least until the season was over so that she could go back home with mason. at least she had stability, that's what mattered most.

"nice of you to visit us," curtis sarcastically greeted as you stood on the outside of the barricade. "I see the boys are treating you well."

it was clear that he was mocking you so you flashed him a tight lip smile. what the kids were doing was asking you questions about anything that came to mind— why you decided to work in marketing? was it true that you and trent were dating? (which you denied obviously)? who would win in a fight, a shark or a tiger? and funny enough you recalled jobe asking you the same question a while ago.

"a shark or a tiger?" he asked with a challenging smile.

your eyebrows furrowed and you looked at jude next to you, who shared the same expression of confusion. "well where's the fight happening?" you asked jobe who made it clear that he didn't like the follow up question.

he pulled a face at you, "what do you mean where's the fight?"

his question left you and jude speechless, his older brother trying to prompt his understanding of the situation further but jobe was stubborn and didn't care about the logistics of the scenario.

"it depends on where the fight is," jude said and you nodded. "they live in different environments entirely so it matters."

jobe rolled his eyes at the question, almost as of it were ridiculous. his shoulders tensed up and he leant forward on the chair he was sitting on. "yeah, but who would win the fight, this isn't about the environment."

you stifled a laugh, in further disbelief. "jobe where is the fight? where is it happening?"

"that's not the point!"

you couldn't stay to chat long to trent's dismay. he couldn't even hold your hand and the look of despair on his face said it all. but you agreed on keeping it on the low, no physical contact in public because there were always cameras around.

you flashed him a smile and waved before heading back to the bench just in time. a sigh of exhaustion leaving your lips at the thought of another 45 minutes of back and forth.

it was around the 60' minute when something built up, having you on the edge of your seat and holding your hands together in prayer and desperation until the ball finally hit the back of the net. however your rejoice didn't last long because once again, the referee was checking for offside.

you stood with your hands in the air in shock, utter hatred for the decision alone. "that wasn't offside at all! what the fuck kind of decision is this?"

the rage and irritation in your tone only grew when the referee called it, your scream drowning out in the sea of groans from the supporters. if it wasn't for james then you probably would have gone up to the stewards yourself to complain.

this was nothing new for the team though, and it was evident in their unimpressed expressions as they got back into position again. you carried on complaining for quite a bit after that— if there was one thing that you hated, then it was cheaters and liars. there was no reason to call the goal offside.

not too far away in the stands trent had his attention on you, an amused smile dancing on his lips as you complained to the other players on the bench— exaggerating your movements and explaining further, your blood boiling.

curris noticed him watching and teasingly nudged his arm. "talk about passionate."

he was right, your passion for the sport was never something you tried to minimise or hold back and that was something that trent found extremely attractive. you were always standing along the touchline with your hands on your head in distraught or leaping from your seat when they scored.

this was a first for trent— his past girlfriends who attended his games usually sat in the family booth and watched from afar, possibility not knowing what was actually happening on the pitch. but the idea of having you so close to him on the once place that he felt the most at home made his heart race.

close, both literally and figuratively— you'd be on the touchline, at most of his games because it was your job but also because you shared the passion for the sport and that meant more than anything to him. the fact that he could share what made him whole, with his partner.

"saffie's at home watching peacefully," curtis then shook his head as he watched you talk to conor who was subbed off, probably complaining again. "and this beast is picking a fight with the stewards."

trent stifled a laugh at his retort, stopping himself to try and listen in on what you were telling conor who was nodding along.

"exactly! I would have thrown him to the floor, conor. you're weak my boy." you pat him on the shoulder reassuringly, causing curtis to throw his head back in laughter.

20 minutes and two yellow cards later, the score was still tied at 0-0. the thought of the match falling into added time made you nauseous, because at the rate anything could happen. with a hand on your forehead you sunk further into your seat, all hope lost as the kids put on their jerseys.

"save us. please." your voice was meek and desperate causing the three of them to laugh, watching as the sub board went up. "I believe in you!"

when the final whistle blew for a short break before the added extra time you got up from your seat and paced up and down to loosen the tension in your legs. jurgen was huddled with the team, strategizing but you weren't too sure what he could possible be telling them.

personally you would have told them to break the chelsea players' legs. or at least try and play a bit rougher but there was nothing you could do except sit and watch. the kids were doing well luckily, and you did a headcount oh how many of them were on the pitch.

4. there were 4 first team players on that pitch and the rest were the club's academy kids going up against a full cheslea squad in a cup final. it was jaw dropping to witness this in person.

when jurgen came over for some water you asked him what the strategy was, to which he just shrugged with a smile. "I told them to have fun. just kick the ball until it hits the back of the net."

you blinked up at him for a moment, the answer a surprise to you but it made sense. there was nothing better that could have been done, so instead you started to pray and manifest, begging the universe for a goal or at least an opportunity.

with your lips pursed you looked up to the timer above the pitch, the big 116 mocking the players on the pitch. there was 4 minutes left and chelsea's management decided that it was a good time to make a substitution. obviously it was to waste time, but even then it was a stupid idea.

the players on the pitch were out of breath, virgil had swear dripping down his forehead and a look of complete exhaustion hiding behind his blank stare. what a way to make people suffer.

it wad the last corner of the match probably and tsimikas was up to take it. naturally you got up again seeing as this was probably going to penalties which you were confident enough in.

with hopeless eyes your eyes followed the ball as it crossed into the penalty area where the players were showing each other, trying to make way for a header. the stadium held it's breath, everyone's hope deep in the dirt until virgil managed to get a touch on the ball just enough that it successfully hit the back of the net.

it happened so quickly but the adrenaline eventually kicked in and you were being pulled into a hug from jurgen. on the other end of the pitch, virgil was sprawled on the floor, the boys surrounding him and laying beside him. it was all over once the final whistle blew seconds later and you heard the bustling noise from behind you.

darwin came running down the steps, pushing curtis to the side as he leapt over the barricade and onto the pitch in excitement with the staff. it was all too much, the overwhelming feelings of anxiety and excitement whirling inside of you.

you were left speechless, nothing more to say than. "how the fuck?"

the celebration was nothing short of heartwarming, but the feeling of watching the chelsea players leaving the stadium without saying a word was a better feeling.

"maybe you should actually try and score next time," you said with a teasing smile directed at levi who was heading towards you up the stairs with the rest of his team. "instead of standing as if you were the great wall of china."

all he did was shake his head and gave you a friendly pat on the shoulder as be walked past, before quickly turning back. "I still think you look better in blue though."

you stifled a laugh, not bothering to answer and instead made your way to the pitch where the banner was set up to take a few pictures before they came down to sing the anthem with their proudly adorned medals and trophy.

while they did all that you made a quick run up to stands, eagerly minding your way until maya, noah and alex were in the clear. the excitement on alex's face was enough for you, a proud feeling of warmth spreading through your chest.

"how was it buddy? did you have fun?" you asked and pulled him into a tight hug.

the younger boy nodded happily, going on about how scared he was and how he really wanted ice cream during the match because it was "super intense". when the time came you bid them goodbye and headed back down to take some pictures.

a fond smile formed on your face at the sight of the academy players, the group immediately making their way over to you with their medals and bombarding you with excited comments.

"I can't believe I nearly scored twice," jayden said with widened eyes, still in disbelief as he held up two fingers. "that's more than once and I just got here."

"which means that you better score soon, the season is nearly over." you lightly punched his arm, the group of academy players following you through the crowd of staff on the pitch.

once again james forced a sarcastic laugh, looking to jayden with his eyes narrowed. "well I just got here too and got booked 3 minutes in. I literally breathed."

not long after that, the photographers called all the academy players together for a group photograph and you took a step back and watched. but your attention was promptly caught by trent leisurely strolling beside dominik and mo.

with a smile you waved him over and suggested that he joined the picture since he was an academy graduate as well. he wasn't too sure at first but he eventually cut in.

after a few pictures your eyes squinted. "what's he doing here?" your question was directed at harvey who was seated on the floor, his face melted in irration as you spoke to him.

"I could ask you the same thing," he shot back and you nearly responded but the group dispersed, everyone going their own way as the celebration wrapped up.

naturally, you joined trent in his little stroll but made sure there was enough space between the two of you so no suspicion would be raised.

even though you were talking normally for the most part, it physically pained him that he couldn't even hold your hand. he gap between your bodies made him cringe, and what made it worse was that this was the first time that he's ever felt this needy or desperate to be close to someone.

but as you were talking to him now, the stadium still full of supporters while you stood in the middle of it all, he felt the desperation panging at his chest.

"bro are you seriously zoning out again?" you asked with a sigh. "this is the fourth time today-- and yes I'm counting."

"well sorry." he lifted his hands into the air in defence. "It's not my fault that my heart is in actual pain because I have to treat you like a normal friend in public."

your eyes rolled at his exaggeration, his dramatics being nothing new especially about this topic. "we aren't officially together yet so we can't do anything about it. calm down, loverboy."

normally this would be the part where he'd kiss you so that you'd shut up but trent had to bite his tongue today, and instead just nodded. it was the harsh truth unfortunately and as much as he loved private relationships, he wanted to show you off. he wanted the world to know that you were his.

but for the first time in a while he'd have to be patient.

spamjam._.

liked by judebellingham and 3 223 122 others

spamjam._. my kids dawg!! 🏆❤️ (and those other grandpa's too)

view all comments below

liverpoolfc red suites you so much more 🫶 [liked by spamjam._.]

→ spamjam._. say it louder for the people in the back 👏 @levicolwill

user ??? oh the dramaaaa

user 120 minutes of torture that I refuse to relive

bobbyclark can't believe that I made it onto the profile 😫

→ spamjam._. watch me crop you out.

→ jayden.danns @bobbyclark I'm the one who got the photocreds on her story 🥱 lower your tone in my presence

→ jamesmconnel and I got booked for breathing 😒

→ spamjam._. james that was a clear tackle?? you got booked for a reason 😭

→ jamesmcconnell yeah for breathing!!

virgilvandijk you should've gotten a medal for being the best cheerleader today 🥇[liked by spamjam._.]

→ spamjam._. aahhh!! I'm so glad my efforts were noticed

→ curtisjr you were screaming at the refs and nearly barged into the stewards room 🤨

→ spamjam._. which is more than you did today benchboy

mosalah grandpas? 😔

→ spamjam._. your leg is broken, so yes. grandpa's 😔

[next!!] [previous!!]

[lemotmo]

In case you want it. 😊

Q. No Christmas episode. So everyone's timeline was wrong. Why such an early mid season break?

A. Actually, anon, the only thing about Christmas that l predicted was that Christopher wouldn't be back before then. And Eddie leaving for Texas in the mid season finale would still make that accurate since it would happen before Christmas. It is a very early break, but really only by two episodes so its not actually that far off. I also don't understand people who thought the Eddie stuff was going to be stretched out over many episodes. This show doesn't do that. The longest stretch would be 3 episodes at the most. They did Buck's story in one frigging episode. The Eddie part would not be what gets stretched out. The Buddie stuff is where you would get the stretch, if it happens, because anything that happens there would happen in the background over multiple episodes. So it would basically be the C plot in the background over roughly a handful of episodes. Like nothing I said changes just because the finale is after episode 8 instead of 10. Eddie was never going to get a multiple episode focus to tell whatever story for him kicks off in episode 6. He will be the focus of 6 and most likely the B or C plot of 7 and 8. That's it, and that's well within the norm for this show. They aren't going to give him real world time to work things out. It will be in television time, which moves much quicker. The only thing that changed today was episode 9 will now be after the break. And episode 8 is definitely ending on a cliffhanger. Like nothing changed today. Yes we will have a good idea about where the Eddie thing is heading after episode 6, and I still feel like it's a sexuality arc, but we still know nothing until episode 6 airs. Today changed none of that. I will admit that I'm surprised there's not a Christmas episode but it doesn't really change anything. We have to see what episode 6 brings, and we knew that yesterday. We are all anxious to know, trust me I get it. I'm tired and I want answers. I have also been very forthcoming regarding my trust issues with Tim. But even though the man doesn't always make the best storyline choices he's never been intentionally gross. And the way everything has been done on the Eddie/Ryan front so far would be the ultimate gross move on his part, and ABC's, if they didn't do what they have very intentionally made it look like they're doing. And they have all chosen their words and framed it very intentionally. They know what most people think it looks like. Does that mean they won't end up being gross? No, but he has never intentionally been that and I don't see that starting now.

I do want it. Thank you Nonny!

This makes sense. I don't have it in me to add a lot to this ask, since I'm very tired at this point and I need some rest. 🥱

Thanks Ali for being the voice of reason. 🤗

IMPORTANT! Please don't repost this ask and/or a link that leads straight to my Tumblr account on Twitter or any other social media. Thank you!

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[cherish--these--times]

Okay. Enough of this. I'm trying to be more positive LOL

The ending riled me up real bad for multiple reasons I've already mentioned, and we can't change it. It is what it is. But they gave us a lot to be happy about in regards to Tedbecca in the last episode. I see hope in the way Ted seemed incapable of saying anything. His usual chirpy-self, who was always babbling on, filling the silence at every turn, disappeared when Rebecca was concerned. Because he knew that he was hurting her by leaving. Which in turn hurt him. Because that's what love is. The writers might have tried to avoid making it romantic, but they had created a monster. Lemme explain.

Short answer: They were soulmates, they said. No need for it to be romantic, they said. It can be platonic, they said. Men and women can be friends!! they said.

BUT.

Ted and Rebecca were not friends. And that's the catch right there. That's the mistake the writers made.

And that's why this was a love story, no matter how hard they tried to squash the idea.

Long answer:

Rebecca was quite far down on the list of Ted's go-to people by the time season 3 landed. He had Beard of course, the Diamond Dogs, Dr. Sharon, even Keeley was admittidly closer to him by that point.

Rebecca was in a league of her own. They were both navigating their life separately but somehow showing up for one another at a time when nobody else would do. Understanding each other on a level that can't even be articulated.

And when it was time for him to leave, the only one he could not quite face and say goodbye to was her. Because there was something there, unacknowledged, unsaid, looming over them. Even BH alluded to this in his infamous reddit debacle. About saying I love you to one another. I had to read that section back. What I wouldn't do for you people? :D

In my personal opinion, in the airport scene they are both struggling with whether or not to say it. But they both know instinctively that if they do, it could open a floodgate they’d rather not open.

Had they been the BFF that a lot of people mistakenly painted them as, this would have been a no-brainer for them. But they couldn't. Because there was something there. That is something the writers did to themselves.

I blame and thank deeply Hannah W. for this. She instilled so much care and fondness and tenderness towards Ted in season one; Rebecca always liked him, even when she was trying real hard to hate him. And the chemistry was just off the charts.

So she carved a very special place for Rebecca in Ted's orbit, that even the writers could not help but lean into. Resulting in the soulmate idea which didn't take root until season 2.

And BOOM. They fucked themselves over. Because Ted and Rebecca were now bonded in a way that could not be undone, and could not even be strictly defined. But one thing is clear: they are destined to be together if they want a real shot at happiness. It's just the truth that the writers established without trying to. Because they make each other better. They understand each other in a way that is beyond words. They can kiss each other's bruises without judgement or fear of judgement. And yes, in a way that would not have been undermined by also wanting to have sex with one another, contrary to popular belief. As two straight people who enjoy sex, it would have been the logicial last piece of the puzzle.

So the ending is fucking sad, because Ted left without really wanting to, letting yesterday be in the way of today, as Rebecca put it. But the last episode also proved once and for all that Ted and Rebecca are fucking IT for each other. Even if they were not ready to let themselves go there yet.

[eclairfromleclerc]

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. 

[planetahmane]

So I made a list of all the questions I got yesterday only answering those here they are.

What are 3 things you’d say shaped you into who you are?

Anime, The Science Channel, and people watching.

What made you start your blog?

My crush at the time had one how could I not?

What do you consider to be romance?

Romance, to me, is a journey of learning, balancing, and synchronizing with your partner. It’s a dance that evolves and deepens over time, creating a timeless connection and ultimately becoming one. This ongoing, dynamic process is what makes love enduring and beautiful.

What’s some good advice you want to share?

Your greatest strength lies in self-awareness. You are both the sculptor and the clay. Shape yourself with intention and care in what you consume—what you watch, listen to, read, who you hang out with, everything—and you will find that your dreams become reality, as if destiny itself had planned it.

Do you believe in ghosts and/or aliens?

I absolutely believe in ghosts and aliens, and I hope they believe in me too.

Favourite things about the night?

My favorite thing about the night is the transition. When night falls, it makes the day feel like a dream, and when day breaks, the night feels like a dream.

Are you a spiritual person?

Yes, I am a spiritual person. For me, spirituality means connection. I don't need a why when I have because.

Fave season and why?

Spring is my favorite season, though fall is a close second. I love the transitions they represent, and spring wins because it's getting warmer.

Fave colour and why?

My favorite color is cyan. I'm not sure why, but there's just something cool about it.

Any nicknames?

I'm not sure if it counts as a nickname, but I typically go by Neo as a username.

Do you collect anything?

Not intentionally, no.

What do you do when you’re sad?

When I'm sad, I find solace in a particular composition that is cathartic, allowing me to immerse deeply in my thoughts and emotions.

Any hobbies?

My hobbies include gaming, reading, programming, learning, writing poetry, and exploring philosophy.

Any pet peeves?

Yes, I have a pet peeve about people saying 'thank you' for things that should be a given. It feels insincere, unnecessary, and diminishes the phrase's value. Unfortunately, it's become too ingrained at this point.

Are you an open book or do you have walls up?

I would say I am largely an open book, but the table of contents is missing and there is no index. You just have to ask the right questions.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Nameless, Faceless: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.4k

Summary: Not even four hours after the case in Canada, you're thrown into another one. This time, without Hotch. You have a sinking feeling he's not just blowing you off to get some sleep. There's something wrong.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: welcome to the first episode of season 5! i hope you enjoy this series just as much as i loved writing it! <3

I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated.

x

"A weak man has doubts before a decision. A strong man has them afterwards." - Carl Kraus

Four hours. Four hours of sleep you got after ending that grueling case in Canada. Four hours later, you are called into another case. JJ didn't disclose the details of the case since you'd get them as soon as you arrive. You and Spencer meet up with Derek at the same time, and Rossi and Emily greet you who are already outside of the newest victim's house.

You freeze in your tracks and put a hand to your stomach that grinds and churns painfully. You gasp and look at Spencer who puts a hand to your back in comfort.

"What's wrong?"

"Where's Hotch?" you ask.

"I don't know. He hasn't arrived yet."

"Are you okay?" Rossi asks.

"Yeah, my stomach hurts. It's probably from the lack of sleep. I'm gonna call Hotch." You take your phone out and call your boss but he doesn't answer. "He's not answering."

"He probably has it on vibrate. He'll show up eventually."

You don't tell them that you think something is seriously wrong with Hotch. If there isn't anything wrong, then you're going to worry everyone for no reason. You push down the feeling of uncertainty and focus on the case at hand.

"We're not working a case. Why call us to a crime scene?" Derek asks.

"I was hoping you knew."

"JJ said the police told her it was urgent."

"With four hours of sleep after what we went through in Canada, it better be," Derek sighs.

You five walk inside the victim's house where JJ, the detective, and the CSI agents are. Your stomach churns again and Derek notices the way you wince in pain.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine."

Something is wrong with Hotch, you can feel it. You don't want to worry anyone without knowing more details.

"Oh, you guys are already here. Do you guys remember Detective Walker?" JJ asks.

"Thanks for being here. I understand none of you are working on much rest."

"Who's the victim?" you clear your throat.

"His name is Nelson Martinez. From what we can figure, he answered his door, was forced into the apartment at gunpoint, and then shot in the chest. It was all pretty sloppy."

"No disrespect, but I don't understand why you need us here," Derek says.

"Two days ago, a local doctor named Tom Barton found a note addressed to him at the hospital. It said the person was planning to kill his son. If Dr. Barton tried to keep his son hidden, one person would die every day in his place."

"You think this is connected?"

"There was a note on the body. It's signed L.C. Yesterday, we had another victim with multiple gunshots outside the apartment. The shooter wrote L.C. in white chalk next to the body."

"Unless Dr. Barton puts his son in harm's way, we're gonna keep having a victim a day," Spencer says.

"We're Barton now?"

"He's at home," JJ answers. "He doesn't know about this victim yet."

"Where's Hotch?" you ask again.

"He's not answering his cell. I assume it's on vibrate. He'll get the message when he wakes up."

You hope all he's doing is sleeping.

"Try him again. He can meet us at Barton's house."

You leave the house first and grab your phone to call him again. Like the half dozen times before, it goes to voicemail.

You've reached Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner. Please leave a detailed message. Thank you.

"Hotch, it's Y/N again. Listen, we're gonna need you to meet us at a house in Mclean, Virginia. 120 Kensington Road. Call me when you get this."

The sick feeling in your stomach only gets worse by the time you reach Dr. Barton's house. He is eager to let you into his house because this whole thing has him freaked about protecting his own life as well as his son's.

"Barton, where is your son right now?" Emily wonders.

"I asked him to stay up in his room."

"What did you tell him?"

"I told him that there was a threat against me at the hospital. I told him the police didn't take it seriously, that they wanted me to stay here for a few days, and that I wanted to have him with me."

"What about Jeffrey's mother?"

"She died when he was ten from breast cancer. Would someone really hurt Jeffrey?"

"Two people are dead already. Whoever sent that note is obviously serious."

"If I don't let Jeffrey out of the house, then another person's gonna die? He's only fifteen. I cannot put him in danger."

"We're not asking you to. Even if you were willing, we can't send him to school knowing he would endanger every student in the building. What we need to do now is go over everything we know and piece together how this person fits into your life," Rossi says.

"I can't think of anyone who would want to hurt Jeffrey," Dr. Barton stutters.

"Whoever wrote that note was putting you on notice. This is personal. He wants you to remember who he is, and until that happens, he hasn't accomplished what he set out to do."

"I know you've been asked this before, but please think again. Do you know anyone with the initials L.C.?" you wince in pain.

"I've looked everywhere," he sighs. "In my day planner, emails, and patient lists. There's no one."

"Have you noticed anyone who might have been watching you either at the hospital or here in the neighborhood?"

"No. I'm sorry."

"Both the victims he's killed have been Hispanic men in their forties. Have you had a patient recently that fits the description?" Detective Walker asks.

"I'm a trauma surgeon in D.C. I have endless patients of all demographics."

"We're gonna need records of all your recent surgeries."

"Of course."

"I'll call Garcia," JJ announces and steps off to the side.

"I don't understand. If he's mad at me, why not just kill me?"

You leave the group and walk over to JJ who is texting Penelope.

"Hey, is there any word from Hotch?"

"No, nothing."

"That's not like him," you sigh and touch your stomach.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I think it's from the lack of sleep," you lie.

Dr. Barton's phone rings and he eagerly picks it up thinking it's good news.

"Hello? ... Jeffrey? ... What's happening? Are you okay?" Derek immediately runs upstairs to check if Jeffrey is in his room only to discover that his window is wide open. "Jeffrey, what's going on? Talk to me."

"He's not up here."

"Jeffrey, where are you?" He hangs up regretfully and looks at everyone in the room. "He's at school. He says he's fine but for how long?"

"Let's go. JJ, you're with us. Prentiss, Y/N, and Reid stay with Dr. Barton and go through all of his case files. The unsub is in there," Rossis takes charge.

Dr. Barton doesn't give this two thoughts because as soon as half the group is out of the house, he goes running after them.

"Dr. Barton, please!"

"You need to go back inside," Rossi says.

"I'm coming with you. I'm gonna get my son."

"Sir, right now nobody is getting your son. Agent Prentiss or Y/N will explain it."

"I don't need an explanation. I'm getting Jeffrey."

"You need to listen right now. Once your son left this house, the safest place for him to be is at that school. We can control access in and out. Detective Walker will organize an evacuation as soon as the school day is done. If we incite a panic now and the unsub is outside, a lot of kids are gonna die," Derek explains.

"What if the killer is already at the school?"

"Then we'll be there, too. Let us do our job."

"Jeffrey knows better than this. He doesn't put himself in danger."

"I think he's just trying to do the right thing. He sees what his father does for a living. This is his way of trying to save lives, too."

"You'll be there?" Dr. Barton asks after a moment.

"Yes."

"Tell him I'm not mad at him. Tell him I love him, and I'm proud of him."

"We will."

Rossi's team leaves for the school while you, Emily, and Dr. Barton head back inside to where Spencer is. He's on the phone with Penelope going over the case files over a certain time period. This unsub started killing recently, so his case might not have been that long ago. The feeling in your stomach gets worse just as a new pain erupts in your side.

Something is seriously wrong with Hotch.

"This guy is a trauma surgeon working in a major metropolitan area. We are talking thousands of surgeries."

"Confine it to the last six months."

"That's still hundreds. Do you want biological information or full medical charts?"

"Can you get the full medical charts?"

"You know, for a smart boy, you still ask a lot of dumb questions. You'll have them in seconds."

"Ask her if Hotch checked in with her," you say.

"Did Hotch check in with you?"

"He's not with you?"

"He's probably on his way. Uh, thanks for everything. Bye." He hangs up on her. "She's going to email the files. We'll print them out from here."

"I could have my office send over the files."

"Trust us, this is faster. We need to dig through your life and try to figure out why this is happening. Let's start with the most recent cases first. Something set this guy off and odds are it's in your files. Let's concentrate on the note. For starters, we know that he's male."

"How do you know?" Dr. Barton asks.

"Women tend to add adjectives and very specific details to their notes. This has none of those," Emily explains. "Males are also more direct. The first sentence is 'I plan to kill your son'. Their notes tend to be more about themselves than the person they're writing to. For example, 'I watched you every day' and 'I will watch you lose everything'."

"We know he surveilled you and your son which means he either has enough money to be away from a regular job or he's currently unemployed. He's most likely a father because he's clearly grieving. He's taken great measures to make sure you feel his pain."

"Let's start with cases involving teenagers that were killed, but also anyone with a strong family presence. Just because your son is fifteen doesn't necessarily mean that his child is the same age."

"Have you had a lot of cases like this where someone taunts you with what they're gonna do?" Dr. Barton asks.

"A few."

"How did they end?" No one answers his question because it's not something he should hear. "Please."

"Suicide by cop seems to be an effective way for them to make their point while ending their suffering all at once," you answer.

"Jeffrey is leaving school in five hours. There's no way we can get through all these patients at this time."

"We already narrowed the list."

"We still have a hundred left." Dr. Barton is clearly upset with the way things are and he realizes he's lashing out. He takes a few deep breaths before continuing. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be callous but when you work in the ER, you don't remember names. You operate and you move on."

This is your opportunity to check in on Hotch. Please let him be sleeping.

"He's right. There are too many files here for us to profile in such a short time. I'm gonna go get Hotch. You two stay here and start filtering through the list. I should be back in half an hour."

"Who's that?"

"He's our supervisor. We weren't supposed to work today. We're having trouble getting ahold of him."

"We need more eyes. I'll be right back."

You kiss Spencer's head when you pass by him.

"The note doesn't say that he'll kill Jeffrey today. It says, 'If not today, tomorrow, or the next day'. Let's say he gets home safe. How long will you all be around to make sure he's okay?" Dr. Barton asks worriedly.

"Let's just get through today."

The principal of the school is more than happy to help the FBI once she hears exactly what is going on in her school. She wants to take action immediately but the team isn't so keen on the idea.

"I need to notify all the parents," the principal panics.

"We think that's a mistake."

"I'm in charge of keeping these kids safe, agent."

"Exactly, and there's a natural end to this day when buses and parents come to pick these kids up. Whoever's doing this is not an effective shooter. His killings are sloppy. So, if there's a panic, a lot of people could be caught in the crossfire," Derek explains.

"Can't you just take Jeffrey home?"

"If we do that and the unsub is watching, someone else is gonna be killed."

"Then what are you going to do?"

"We'll lock up every filter point except the front door. Nobody comes in. We say it's school policy so there will be no questions, and if someone needs to see a student, we bring the kids to them."

"I'll need a complete list and employment records of everyone already inside the building," JJ says.

"I'll brief your security guards and take care of all of the exits. After that, I need you to gather the faculty into small groups and bring them to me. We'll treat it as routine, and in the meantime I need you to get Jeffrey out of class as casually as possible. Can you do that?"

"Sure."

Derek, Rossi, and JJ follow the principal to the classroom Jeffrey is in and she steps inside alone.

"Jeffrey Barton. Could I see you for a moment?"

The other students mutter in curiosity as Jeffrey meets the principal in the empty hallway. He sees the three FBI agents and becomes worried.

"Hey, Jeffrey. My name's Derek Morgan. I'm with the FBI."

"I saw you in my living room."

"Listen, the first thing I need to know is if you've told anyone about what's happening?"

"No."

"Are you sure? Because even just one text message could set this place off."

"I'm sure."

"Alright. We're gonna keep you safe, kid. In order to do that, you're gonna have to stay calm and trust me. Do you understand? Every time you step out of class, I will be right here. Now, it's gonna look like I'm just another adult in the hallway with Principal Findlay, but I got your back."

"Is my dad okay?"

"He knows you were just trying to do the right thing. He just wants to get you home safe."

"Do you think somebody's trying to kill me to get back at him?"

"It's possible."

"Do you know why?"

"That's what we need to figure out."

Jeffrey goes back to class knowing he is going to be safe from whoever is targeting him. Even as he goes from class to class, he sees JJ and Derek right there watching him. He has no doubt that he is going to be safe, but the same thing can't be said for Hotch.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[glassofspoiledmilk]

Unlikely 𓇢𓆸

SYNOPSIS: Tooru Oikawa has kissed many girls, but kisses don’t mean much do they?

WC: 0.7k

Flufftober fic 1: first kiss

TOORU OIKAWA - a boy with a reputation larger than him. He was a “lady’s man”, the kinda guy you’d swoon over at the mall, a guy with all the girls he could ever dream of having.

Unfortunately, with such a high reputation comes high standards.

Standards in which I certainly do not meet.

The moment flys by me as I feel a tap on my shoulder.

“Y/N?” My friend asks with a concerned look.

“Hm?” I reply as I looked up at her, regaining my consciousness.

I was in school.

“I don’t get this part…what’s slope?” She said as she intently looked down at her paper, searching for answers she couldn’t seem to find.

“You have to grab the points” I say as I gesture down to her paper.

“Ohhhh” she reply’s.

“Anyway, you still wanna go to the game later? I heard Oikawas got something up his sleeve, it being so close to the end of the season and all” she says with a giddy smile.

“Why would I want to go watch him get swarmed by a bunch of chicks” I reply, scribbling an answer onto my paper.

“Oh please you wish you were them” she jokes.

“Whatever” I add as I roll my eyes.

“But I seriously think you have a shot with him!” She adds excitedly.

“Don’t get my hopes up it’s not worth it” I sigh.

“He tries to talk to you all the time, you just ignore him” she adds while drawing little hearts on the corners of her paper.

“When has he ever tried to talk to me?” I reply with a confused expression.

“Yesterday in the library he asked you to show him where the fiction books were, and then asked you what your favorite was” she says with a deadpan tone.

“He just needed help, that’s totally different” I argue.

“Yea and asking for your favorite was totally necessary, and he got the book too!” She exclaims.

“Maybe he’s a book enthusiast” I suggest.

“When has he read anything ever, also I can name like a hundred other times he’s talked to you!” She practically screams, which was followed by the loud ringing of the bell.

“Just please come to the game!” She begs as I grab my books.

“Fine but you have to get me something from the concessions” I laugh.

“Deal” she happily replies as we walk out of the classroom.

The day flew by me, and before I knew it I was walking up unstable bleachers in a humid gym.

“So wait who are we playing again?” I ask as I stuff my face with compensation chips.

“Karasuno I think” my friend says as she plops down into the spot next to me.

“It should be a good game then” I add as I watch the teams warm up.

I wasn’t really interested in the game at all. I mean with minimal volleyball knowledge, I could just barely make out what was happening.

I wasn’t really focused on the game though.

Just his entourage of girls at the bottom of the bleachers.

I scoffed.

The score was 3-2, we won by a hair.

“Damn that was a close game, can’t believe we won though!” My friend said as we walked into the cool outdoor air.

“You sure you don’t need a ride?” She asked.

“Yea I’m good” I replied.

“Alright I’ll cya!” She added as she walked to her car.

“Hey Y/N!” An unfamiliar voice said from behind me.

“Uh..hi?” I said as I slowly turned around.

Oikawa was standing behind me.

“What did you think of the game?” He asked.

“Oh I uh..I thought it was good. You played well” I replied nervously.

“Anyway I wanted to ask you about something” he says, the tone turning slightly more serious.

“Oh what’s up?” I reply with a concerned look.

“Have you ever kissed anyone?” He says as he leans against the brick gymnasium wall.

“Uh..no..no I haven’t” I hesitate.

“Would you like to?” He says with a cocky grin.

“I-I don’t know..I mean why would you wanna kiss me.?” I stutter, my face completely pink.

“Because I like you, and I wanna kiss you?” He says as he steps forward, placing a gentle hand on my side.

“So what do you say?” He whispers softly in my ear.

“I wouldn’t mind..” I replied, feeling my heart betting out of my chest.

He smiles, and abrupy pulls me in.

His calloused hands had a tight grip on my waist as his soft lips pressed against mine.

As we slowly pulled apart, all words left my brain.

“So I guess this is my way of asking you out” he winks.

“What do you say?”

“Yea…yea I’d love to”

[conanssummerchild]

ive dipped my toes into a little bit of unserious fic writing for rnm and i felt it was about time i dropped an autistic rick fic 🫡

ive had this idea circling around in my head for a while but i wasn't really sure what direction the fic would go in but ive decided to go for some good old internalised ableism (me writing angst? shocking /sarc) bcs rick never seems to see his autism as a disadvantage which is super slay BUT there is also a lot of difficult things to deal with being autistic and you know that old fucker hates admitting he needs help with anything so im gonna fucking force him to >:) this is set in like maybe season 2 or early season 3 btw just to make rick even less inclined to admit he needs any help !!

ok enough yapping, here we gooo

~~~

It was awfully quiet in the house for a Saturday afternoon. Usually by now Rick would've come barging into the living room, demanding Morty come with him and tugging him through a portal without waiting for an affirmative answer, always at least a little drunk on whatever he could get his hands on.

Today there was none of that, only fragrant smells of whatever dinner Jerry was cooking coming from the kitchen, juxtaposed with the harsh screaming match going on between him and Beth. Summer was scrolling on her phone absently next to Morty on the sofa as he pretended to watch some film that Jerry insisted was a masterpiece on non-interdimensional TV.

Overall, it was a normal night at the Smith's house from before Rick had come into their lives, but Morty wasn't relaxed like he would've been before, or even upset over having to listen to his parents' petty argument. No, he was ansty, fidgeting around enough to earn several annoyed glances from Summer.

He combed back through his memories, doubting whether he'd seen Rick today at all. He hadn't been at lunch or breakfast, in fact Morty hadn't seen him at all since their brief adventure yesterday, during which Rick had been in an increasingly foul mood. Had no one else even noticed his disappearance?

"I'm gonna check on Rick." He blurted out, stumbling off the sofa.

Summer didn't even spare him a glance.

He tried not to run down the hallway, nervous jitters going through his whole body. What if he had left again? No, probably not, Morty had seen his ship in the driveway. Shit– Rick had thousands of enemies, what if he was lying dead in his room right now?

Morty knocked on Rick's door so hard his knuckles stung a little, ignoring the small buzzing sound that accompanied the knocks. He heard a groan akin to one of a dying man and some shuffling from inside the room.

"Rick?" Morty called out to no answer, anxiety only rising.

He shifted nervously from foot to foot. If he just barged into Rick's room and he was fine Rick would be super pissed, but if he didn't and Rick was dying Morty would never forgive himself.

He shoved the door open. It didn't have a lock anymore. Morty held his breath as his eyes darted around the room, he feared it would look like a crime scene, but it looked... normal. He hadn't been in Rick's room that many times but, despite the darkness and slight mess, nothing seemed particularly out of place.

Well, that was, of course, apart from the translucent green force field type thing in front of the door.

He frowned, calling Rick's name again, but he was lying in his cot, facing the wall, unresponsive. Not even seeming like he'd heard Morty, the rise and fall of his tense shoulders the only thing showing he was still alive.

Morty chanced a careful touch to the force field, preparing for some kind of electric shock, but none came, only a quiet hum was emmited as Morty's fingers passed through. Rick moved again slightly, but other than that showed no visible reaction.

The field gave way easily and Morty passed though completely, standing meekly at the doorway of Rick's room. He was surprised to find that it was silent, like completely. No sound passed through the green barrier, not the sounds of sizzling pans, or the movie playing faintly in the background. Nothing.

"Rick? A-are you okay?" It wasn't said particularly loudly, but it felt that way in the complete silence.

No answer. He took a step closer, repeating himself louder, in case Rick just hadn't heard. "Rick? W-what's– is everything good?"

He expected anything, from Rick yelling at him to the person in the bed just being an alien wearing Rick's face, not even Rick himself.

He didn't expect Rick to cover his ears and curl into himself further.

"Uh-" Morty hesitated. His head hurt? Was he, like, hungover? Dying?

He only paused for a second more before turning and running out of the room, if something really was greviously wrong with Rick he would much rather be safe than sorry.

"Mom!" He called, running into the kitchen, interrupting the argument going on abruptly.

Beth downed a large sip of her wine glass, emptying it and setting it down on the counter with a sharp clink.

"Morty, honey, the adults are talking right now." She said, rubbing her temples tiredly.

"Mom, something's w-w-wrong with Rick."

"What?" That got Beth's attention, straightening from where she was topping off her wine once more. "What's wrong with Rick?"

"I don't know." Morty replied, agitated. "He's in his room just– just lying there, he's not answering me."

Beth was already heading in the direction of his room—not without grabbing her wine. "Come on, sweetie." She said to Morty.

"Wha- Beth, come on! We were having a conversation here!" Jerry exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air.

"I have more important things to deal with right now, Jerry." She said coldly.

Jerry's complaints were drowned out by Morty's rushing thoughts as he led Beth down the hall.

She peeked into the dark room without passing the noise-cancelling field, expression changing when she saw Rick curled into a ball, hands still clamped over his ears. While her frown stayed, a sort of realisation flashed in her eyes.

"Um, I think your grandpa just needs a little bit of alone time right now, okay? Let's give him some space." She said, taking a step back and closing the door gently.

"What? Why?"

"He just... Well, honestly, I don't know. I just vaguely remember he would get like this sometimes when I was a kid, when he was stressed. Mom always told me to just leave him alone for a while. I thought he'd probably grown out of it, like it was a midlife crisis thing or whatever. Guess not." She gave a small shrug.

That didn't really answer any of Morty's questions and raised several more, but Beth didn't seem to have the answers.

"Okay."

"Okay." Beth echoed, taking a swig of wine, her demeanour changing back to a bored one. "Well, I gotta go deal with Jerry now, go play video games, or something."

For the rest of that day, and then one more after that, Morty waited anxiously for Rick to emerge from his room. He felt like he was losing his mind, all while everyone else didn't even seem to care that Rick was gone at all.

He was picking at his pancakes uninterestedly when he finally caught a glimpse of blue hair in the hallway.

"Rick!" He exclaimed, making the old man nearly jump out of his skin.

"Jesus fucking christ, M-Morty." He muttered, grabbing some orange juice from the fridge and downing it straight from the carton.

"What happened?" Morty asked, getting up from the table and hovering by Rick. No one told him off for leaving the table. He could tell that they were all listening in on the conversation.

"What happened when?" Rick asked dismissively, playing dumb. He rummaged around in the overhead cupboard until he found an opened box of wafers. "What– who the fuck opened my wafers?"

Morty rolled his eyes. "You did, last week."

"Oh yeah." Rick shoved a wafer in his mouth.

"Rick, come on, seriously, I was worried."

"Well then maybe you should mind your own business, Morty."

Morty huffed. "What so you'd prefer I didn't care about you at all?"

"Yes. Obviously. Why does that surprise you? I've clearly stated it on multiple occasions."

"Well, I'm sorry, but I do care about you, Rick. I just want to make sure you're okay, because it seemed like you weren't" Morty said earnestly.

"Ugh, I'm fine, Morty." He scowled. "Don't be so– so weird about it."

"I'm weird?! Y-you're the weird one, Rick! Wh-what the hell is wrong with you? You just dissapear for– for two days and won't even tell me why? Can you give half a shit about anyone but yourself?"

"Jesus, I was overstimulated! O-okay? I'm autistic! Is that what you want to hear? You– you fucking dick."

Morty shook his head lightly, processing the stream of information "...What?"

"What? You can't be autistic." Jerry chimed in from the dining room.

"Okay, Jerry, and you won't be alive when I stuff your tiny dick in your mouth and freeze you, so we can put you on the mantle like some kind of fucked up decoration with your balls hanging out. Wait, actually, you will be alive. You'll feel the whole thing. Suuuper painful."

Rick snatched up Morty's virtually untouched stack of pancakes and sauntered out.

A quiet washed over the table, Morty looking over at Beth and seeing that she seemed just as surprised as him.

"What, you guys seriously didn't know?" Summer's bored voice broke through the silence.

"Y- you did?" Morty asked incredulously.

"Uh, duhh, Morty. It's like super obvious?" Summer drawled, not even looking up from whoever she was texting on her phone.

"How is it obvious?!"

"Becuase, Morty, I'm not uneducated like all of you guys."

"What? Wh-whatever, I'm just– I'm gonna go talk to him."

Summer didn't grace him with a response.

Morty peered into Rick's room but he wasn't there, so he wandered towards the garage. As he approached, he could already hear the sounds of Rick tinkering with something or other.

"H-hey, Rick." He said carefully, but Rick didn't seem particularly upset, offering Morty a small grunt in greeting.

"S-sorry I said there was something wrong with you." Morty added.

Rick looked up this time, quirking an eyebrow at him. "Okay?"

He went back to his project for a bit, but when Morty still didn't leave after several minutes he sighed, setting his wrench down harshly next to Morty's now half-eaten pancakes. "Yes, Morty?" He asked, irritated.

"I-I just... You could've told me, you know? That you're autistic. I'm not– you don't have to be, like... ashamed."

"Screw you, I'm not ashamed." Rick snapped. "L-look at me Morty, do you know how smart I am? You think any fucking neurotypical could ever reach my level of genius? Fuck no!"

He crossed his arms like a petulant child, pouting at the floor.

"Oh– Sorry." Morty stuttered. "I just thought..."

"What? That just because I'm autistic I have to be ashamed? Pretty ableist stuff there, Morty." Rick said sharply.

"No! Jeez, That's not– not what I meant, Rick. Jeez... I was gonna ask why you never t-talk about it, then?"

"Becuase it's none of y-your damn business, that's why."

"But– I mean, sure, but not even my mom knew. Did... did your wife? Did she know?"

Rick's shoulders tensed and he looked away, his loose grip on the table becoming harsher.

"R-rick?"

"She... knew." He said tightly.

"Did anyone else?" Morty made his tone a little gentler, seeing Rick wasn't exactly thrilled to talk about it.

"...Birdperson. And Squanchy."

"That's– no one else?"

Rick frowned. "My parents knew. But they didn't like it... Diane– my wife she was the first person I chose to tell myself."

"I'm sorry." Morty said quietly. "About your parents and... Diane."

Rick sat silently, staring at the work bench in front of him without saying a word.

"Is that... why you guys divorced, or?"

"No, Morty, jesus." Rick huffed. "She was actually the only one that didn't treat me like less than because of it. I mean, until BP and Squanch."

"So why–?"

"I don't want to talk about my failed marriage, M-morty." Rick sighed.

"...Sorry."

Rick shrugged.

Silence stretched on as Rick went back to his project again, it wasn't an uncomfortable silence, but it wasn't exactly comfortable either.

"It's embarrasing. Sometimes." Rick said haltingly. "When I get overstimulated. Becuase I know that doesn't happen to normal people and I don't like admitting I need help with things that other people don't. It's a sign of weakness."

"That's not–!"

"Shut the fuck up, Morty. This isn't a discussion, you got what you wanted out of me, so now you can fuck off."

"But, Rick you–"

"Morty, just fuck the fuck off."

Morty hesitated for a second, before lunging towards Rick and trapping him in a tight hug. Rick tensed up.

"Morty, you little shit, get off me!" Rick wriggled, trying to get out of Morty's embrace.

"I love you, grandpa. Thank you for opening up to me, I know it's hard for you." Morty whispered, which only made Rick thrash around harder. "I don't think you're weak, by the way. Or that there's anything wrong with you."

Morty finally pulled away from the hug and Rick crossed his arms again, his face now a little flushed in embarrasment.

"Don't do that again, you asshole." He grumbled. "I don't like it when you hug me."

"Sorry." Morty said, mostly meaning it. "Hugs always make me feel a lot better."

"Well I'm not you, Morty, and they m-m-make me uncomfortable."

"Sorry." He repeated. "But I-I still mean everything I said."

Rick pouted, turning away. Morty knew Rick was stubborn, and that he wasn't going to erase years of self-hatred and internalised ableism in a few minutes, but he hoped that one day Rick let him in enough to at least try.

"Okay, bye grandpa. Love you."

"Bye, asshole." Rick muttered back.

Love you too he thought, but didn't say.

+ extra

Rick had been in a shitty mood all day, and Morty could tell something was brewing under the surface, but he couldn't tell what until they were already on their way back home from grabbing some crystals from some drug planet Rick stole from all the time.

Usually Rick would be in high spirits after another succesful crystal-stealing mission, but today he just glared through the windshield, gripping the steering wheel tightly. Morty could tell that, despite his intense stare, he wasn't really paying too much attention, so it wasn't a huge shock when an large asteroid chunk flew into their field of vision and Rick didn't even try to swerve.

They crashed into the asteroid hard and an alarm started blaring, red rays flashing in the interior of the spaceship. Rick's hands flew over his ears, squeezing his eyes shut tightly.

Morty had seen this alarm go off several times, due to Rick's often reckless driving, and it usually didn't bother Rick very much at all, not warranting more than a curse and flipping the alarm off annoyedly.

Rick bit down on his knee hard as Morty hurried to shut down the alarm, Rick's hands moving into his hair and tugging when it was finally switched off.

Rick had a tendancy to hurt himself when he was overstimulated and it made Morty endlessly anxious. He searched desperately in the backseat for the noise cancelling headphones he'd given Rick and "forced him to wear" as Rick would say, but Morty could tell he appreciated it. Especially when he snatched them out of Morty's hands before he'd barely even handed them to him, shoving them onto his head agressively and clicking the button he'd added himself for improved noise cancellation, claiming the headphones were trash and that he'd had to modify them to make them at all a useful tool.

He slumped back in his chair with a sigh, his eyes were still shut but Morty could see the tears that had collected on his eyelashes.

"Do you want me to drive us back?" Morty asked, barely finishing the sentance before Rick was hitting the button that switched their chairs around so Morty would be in front of the wheel. Morty let out a small exclamation of surprise, but quickly took the wheel, putting the ship back on track.

Rick didn't say anything else for the short journey home, jumping out of the ship before it was even parked properly. Morty hurried to keep up with him as he unlocked the door. He stopped abruptly in the middle of the entryway and Morty almost crashed into him, managing to stop himself just in time.

"Thank you." Rick said gruffly, not giving Morty time to respond and just rushing off to his room.

Morty still smiled, though. He knew that was about as close as it got to his grandpa expressing affection.

"Love you too, Rick."

---

THE END IM CHEESEY OK I KNOW SORRY BYE