#second chapter is ready and will be posted on monday :)

[nolita-fairytale]

make my heart surrender | carmy berzatto x fem!reader | chapter four: friday

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

warnings: lots of swearing, angst, use of she/her pronouns, friends to lovers, smutty smut-smut, this is an 18+ chapter so minors dni, no use of y/n, second person pov

word count: 6.7k

summary: buckle up people, because this is a long one! tonight is the night: the night you and marcus' dessert menu goes live, the night you meet natalie berzatto, and the night that truths are revealed.

a/n: is it hot in here or is it just me? who's ready for some smut? this will be the last chapter i post till sunday/monday, so we can all sit with this. hear me out: it's not that i think carmy is really good at sex. but there's so much tension between these two, i think reader is good at sex, and there's something to be said for being so turned on by the other person that it just hits different.

and here is that song -- the jazz standard turned acoustic cover.

read: part three | masterlist

Friday

“Just remember that we don’t have to reinvent the wheel here. You just have to deliver a really damn good dessert time after time,” you instruct, setting Marcus up, pre-dinner shift. 

“I think we should focus on the burnt basque cheesecake in lieu of the classic. You already have a heavier lift on the bake for the chocolate cake. That way, whatever happens with the mixer, or the ovens… this version of cheesecake is pretty forgiving. And you don’t have to fuck around with a water bath just yet.”

“The tiramisu is perfect because it’s a no-bake option, and you can mix it up with different kinds of flavors – call it a special.” 

“Like what we’re doing Sunday?” Marcus suggests, in reference to the strawberry, lemon, and mascarpone version you be doing at the end of the week.

“Exactly,” you reply.

“Hell yeah.”

“It all fits into the menu so nicely too: elevated classics.”

“A play on tradition.”

“Exactly."

“Ah, I see you, chef,” Marcus nods along, excited about tonight’s R&D night. 

The game plan is to serve smaller portions of each dessert for the price of one, then get feedback by the end of the weekend. 

“Hey, family’s up in a minute. You guys ready to roll tonight?” Carmy asks, stopping by you and Marcus’ little pastry corner. 

“Yes, chef,” you both answer, in staggered timing. 

“She got me workin’ on a strawberry compote. Here, try it, chef,” Marcus encourages, grabbing a clean spoon and scooping out a spoonful from the deli container it’s been stored in. Carmy takes it, putting the spoon in his mouth and he tries the compote. 

“That’s gonna be really good with the tang and slightly bitter outside of the burnt cheesecake. Good work, chef,” he congratulates, inspiring a grin across Marcus face. 

“I’m learning so much from you. Seriously. Thank you, chef,” he says, turning to you. 

“Hey, you’re the one that made the compote,” you reply, redirecting the praise back to him. “Just sayin’.”

“Family’s up!” Sydney calls out to the whole kitchen. 

You lock eyes with Carmy, and he nods towards the front of house as if to say, ‘follow me.’ You and Marcus file in through the limited space that leads from the kitchen to the front counter, then finally, into the dining area of the restaurant. Carmy had told you all about the hellish remodel of this place – that the two tops, booths, and bar remodel had taken for-fuckin-ever. That it looked like nothing more than a diner with a few arcade games before the reopen. 

“Hey, thanks for jumping in so that Angel could cover me the other night,” Ebrahim says to you, as you find a seat next to Carmy, and across from Marcus. 

“Oh, it’s no problem. You feelin’ better?” you ask back. 

“Very much so. A little rest and a little maraq digaag and I’m good as new,” he answers. 

“What’s good, Jeff? Surprised you’ve stuck around this long. Glad we haven’t scared you away yet,” Tina greets. 

Carmy’s shocked, considering Tina rarely warms up to anyone. 

You chuckle in response. 

“It takes a lot more to scare me away, chef,” you reply, confident that you can keep up with everyone’s witty banter. Even though you’ve been welcomed in over the last few days, you know that they were a family before you came. 

And will still be one after you. 

Right. Because this is temporary. You’re only here for a week, you remind yourself. 

“Yeah, thought she’d be long gone after workin’ the line the other night,” Richie chimes in. “Especially considering she’s way out of your league, cousin.” 

“Yeah, yeah, fuck you,” Carmy shoots back, almost instantly. 

“I’m just glad you’re here now. Man, it’s been three days and you’ve leveled my shit up already,” Marcus compliments. 

“Besides, it’s nice to have some solidarity amongst the little boys club we work in every damn day,” Sydney points out, eliciting a scoff from Richie.

The two of you share a look, like a psychic high five or some shit. It begins to dawn on you that you could get used to this: this kitchen, these people….

“What? You got something against women supporting women, Richie?”

“Oh, so what? You’re the voice of feminism now, Syd?” Richie spits back. “Holy shit! Did you guys know that we were here in the presence of the new voice of-.”

You watch as Tina and Gary slump in their chairs, as if to say, ‘here they go again.’

“Don’t be such a prick, Richie. Oh wait.” Sydney challenges. 

“You know what-?” Richie starts up, before being swiftly interrupted.

“Damn, Syd. This is fantastic,” you interject, your voice louder than normal, in reference to her family meal. “These tostadas are fuckin’ perfect and I’m gonna need the recipe.”

Richie continues to go on about god knows what, distracting himself, as Sydney mouths a, ‘thank you’ across the table towards you. You nod towards her as if to say, 

I got you.

*

“Hey, I’m a little behind on plating. Sorry, chef,” Marcus apologizes, and you can tell he’s stressed. He gestures towards the plates that are ready to go out to the bar. 

He hesitates before asking, “Oh and uh… these ones are ready to go out. Can you-?”

“‘Course, chef,” you answer, a mini-pep talk coming his way. “But uh… before you keep going, Marcus, take a breath. I know you struggle a little with pacing – you want everything to perfect – but, it’s gonna come with practice and repetition.”

You can see that he’s flustered – a little frustrated even. 

“Expediting during dinner is a whole other animal, and it’s just night one. You got this,” you reassure. 

You and Carmy had such different leadership styles. While you both had come up in the same kind of kitchens, you didn’t like to yell unless you had to. You were here to teach, and you can’t remember the last time someone screaming at you had ever helped you learn something. 

You’re more than happy to support him by taking these plates out. You spent the first half of dinner service plating so that he could get some face time with customers – since you’d be asking for feedback. Then you’d switch halfway through service.  You also thought it might be good practice for him to lead, considering they’d need to hire more help with the new menus. 

You take a look at the ticket, one dessert tasting - two people - bar top, before taking the dessert plates out to the designated seats at the bar. There’s a gorgeous blonde woman sitting next to a guy in a sweater vest, as you make to approach the bar top. 

“Hi, you guys,” you greet, a cheerful smile on your face. “Sorry to keep you waiting. We’re testing out a few new desserts for our dinner menu, so I’d love to hear what you think.”

“Oh this looks great,” the woman says, looking at both perfectly plated desserts. 

“Here we have a burnt basque cheesecake with a strawberry compote, The Bear’s signature chocolate layer cake, and then a classic Italian tiramisu,” you explain, walking through each piece. 

“Wow,” the man marvels, almost as if he’s surprised. 

You share your name with them, and let them know that, if they have any feedback, that they can ask for you. As you turn to go, the woman calls after you, stopping you. 

“Wait,” she says, her eyes lighting up. “You’re Carmy’s friend.”

“Yes.”

“Pete, it’s Carmy’s friend!” she exclaims, nudging the man next to her with her elbow to try to jog his memory. “You know! The one that’s staying in our airbnb.”

“Oh!” he says, as the light bulb goes on in his brain. “Yeah, we’ve heard all about you.”

“I’m sorry,” the woman apologizes. “I’m Natalie, his sister, but you can call me Sugar. This is my husband, Pete.”

“Oh my god! Natalie! Yes, I’ve heard so much about you too,” you reply, finally registering that this was the same woman in family photos that Carmy had shown you years ago. “It’s so nice to put a face to the name. And great to meet you too, Pete. Seriously, thanks for letting me stay at the place. I mean, you really didn’t have to.”

“Likewise,” she says back. She scoffs before rolling her eyes and continuing. “Leave it to Carmy to ask us for a favor and not even introduce you to us, that soft shitty bitch!”

“Babe,” Pete starts. “Maybe we shouldn’t be so hard on Carmy, you know, in front of his-.” He gestures towards you and you’re not sure what he thinks you are to Carmy. 

Sugar brushes him off with a, ‘whatever,’ before you notice that they’re both in need of clean forks. 

“You guys need clean forks. I’m gonna-,” you start. 

“Oh no! I uh-, let me get it,” Pete interrupts, practically jumping out of his seat. 

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” he agrees, leaving the two of you alone. 

You lean against the bar top towards Sugar. 

“Well, he couldn’t get out of here fast enough,” you say with a laugh, stating the obvious. She laughs with a nod towards her husband. 

“Yeah he’s… special,” she replies. “I think he uh, I think he just wanted to give us some time to talk.” 

You’re not sure what to say next, because you’re not sure what you and Carmy’s sister, one you’ve never met before, would have to talk about. 

“So how’s the place? Do you have everything you need or-?” Sugar begins, in reference to the airbnb. 

“Oh! Yeah, no it’s great. I’ve got everything I need. Again, thank you. You really didn’t have to do that.”

“No, we wanted to!”

“Thanks…” you trail off, suddenly feeling a little uncomfortable – nervous, maybe? Yep, definitely nervous, you realize, as you begin to ramble. “It’s a really great apartment. Beautifully styled.”

What the fuck are you even talking about, you think to yourself.

“Oh, I did that! Styled it, I mean,” Sugar’s quick to respond.

“Oh, wow!” you say. Were all the Berzattos creative? “Yeah, I just-, I really appreciate it. Made getting out here a little easier.”

“No, yeah, it’s-, it’s no problem,” Sugar continues. “Really… anything for a friend of Carmy’s.” 

You’re not sure why it’s so awkward, and it feels like you’re somehow both dancing around something you’re not even sure you should be dancing around. 

“I hope you don’t think I’m a total bitch for saying this but,” Sugar starts, cautiously. While she doesn’t want to make her brother look like a total loser in front of you, she’s also unsure of how else to say what she says next. 

“Bear's never really had any friends… not a lot of them, at least. So I-. Thank you. I mean. For being his friend, I guess… is what I’m trying to say.” 

Bear.

You figure it's a family nickname. You wonder why you’ve never heard it before, and yet, it’s no surprise that he kept it from you. He’d been so evasive about his family when you’d first met. For a bit, it just felt like a topic that was off limits.

You take a beat, processing what she’s just said. In some ways, you always knew that Carmy was a bit of a loner, but you could feel the weight of what she’s saying – how much it meant to her. 

“I know he’s not always easy to love but. I don’t know. He acts like he doesn’t need people, and I know he does. I mean, people outside of this fucked up shit hole anyways,” she continues, gesturing to her surroundings. 

You agree with a small laugh, “Yeah, he can be a real dick sometimes. That’s for sure.” 

“Seriously. Thank you,” she says, genuinely. 

“Of course,” you reply, making sure she knows that her words mean a lot to you. You take a more playful tone as you continue. “To be fair, we did meet in another fucked up spot. Not so much a shit hole though.”

“Yeah, and there’s that,” she sighs, lightheartedly. 

“I’m just glad he has someone. He needs someone. Even when he doesn’t want to.”

The rest of dinner service is a blur, as your mind continues to incubate on what Sugar had said to you. You let your interaction with her sit there, but try your best to focus on supporting the rest of service. 

You all work together to wrap up the evening – a chaotic dinner service with a lot of lessons learned. You and Carmy are the last to leave as you notice he’s wrapping up a few things in his office. With your jacket on, backpack slung over one shoulder, you stop by to say goodnight before heading out. 

He’s sitting in the chair, furiously scribbling a few notes down on a few pages of graphing paper. Your eyes flicker over all of the silly doodles on the whiteboard behind him. 

“Hey,” you say, causing him to look up from his notebook. 

“Good service tonight,” he says back. 

“Yeah,” you nod in agreement. “Desserts were a hit.”

“I heard,” he replies. 

You wait for him to say more, only he doesn’t. 

“So, I’m gonna get out of here. Marcus is gonna fly solo tomorrow morning, so I won’t be in till the dinner shift,” you start, shooting him a polite smile. 

You take a few steps away from the office before he calls out to you. 

“Hey!” 

You stop, taking a few steps backwards so that you’re standing in the office doorway once again. 

“You hungry?” he asks, tentatively. 

There’s a look in his eyes that you can’t quite identify: a little nervousness, and something else you haven’t had a chance to name yet. It’s like he’s not ready to part ways with you yet. You smile back at him, hoping to quell whatever nerves he has about the question he just asked you. 

“Always, Carm.”  

You’re tired and your feet ache from a particularly busy service, but you’re not ready to part ways with him either.

“Watcha thinkin?” you ask curiously, sliding your other arm through the loose strap of your backpack. 

“Can I cook you something?” he proposes, hopefully.

You laugh. 

“Is that even a real question?” 

You wait for him as he wraps up his notes and gather his things. Carmy slips on his jacket and ballcap, ready to head home with you. On the way, he lights up a cigarette, offering one to you, but you tell him that you’re trying to quit – or at least trying to cut back. It’s not a long walk back to his place, and you anticipate it being something along the same lines as what he had in New York: facebook marketplace couch, minimal food in the fridge, a TV and a bed. 

Nothing else – just a place to sleep, before he spends most of his day at the restaurant. 

When you arrive, you’re not surprised to see that your assumptions were correct. Carmy flips on a few lights as you follow behind him. You drop your book bag onto his couch, slipping your shoes off and removing your jacket, as Carmy bee lines for the kitchen. You hear the faucet turn on as you tentatively explore his small apartment, before meeting him in the small kitchen area.

He takes his time, washing his hands, before drying them on a dish towel and throwing it over his shoulder. 

“So what are we makin’, chef?” you inquire.

“We aren’t making anything. You’re gonna sit right over here,” he begins, gesturing towards the area across from his gas stovetop. “Oh shit. Hold on. Let me grab you a-.”

“I’m good here, chef,” you interrupt, making a sound as you hop onto the kitchen counter. You immediately reach for the bag of chips he’s thrown onto it. It’s not even closed properly with a clip or anything so expect them to be stale as you pop one of the chips into your mouth.

“Sour cream and onion? Change up from your regular doritos, huh?”

A small smile spreads across his face as he moves around his kitchen, locating a quarter sheet pan. He opens his practically desolate fridge, pulling out a fresh brick of pecorino romano, guanciale, and a few eggs he throws right into the pint-sized deli container that lays on the sheet pan. The rest follow: an unopened pound of dried spaghetti and black pepper, before he gently places the sheet pan on the counter, beginning to preheat two pans on the stovetop. 

“Are you-?”

“Uh huh.”

You smile to yourself. He’s making one of your favorites: carbonara. 

The first time he’d made it for you, you had just started spending some of your days off together – had just agreed to be a part of each others' quarantine pods. You knew he had Italian-American heritage but it was blatantly obvious when you took your first bite.

“Holy fuck,” you had practically moaned at your first bite. “This-, please don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m pretty sure your talents are being wasted on fine dining, my friend. This is… this is fucking unreal, dude.”

You had tried to convince him that this is the food you both should be cooking, but he vehemently denied the idea, insisting the fine dining was the highest on the food chain and the only way he could make a name for himself. 

He’d been drinking the kool-aid. You both had. 

You sit quietly, as Carmy works. You watch as he cuts perfect lardons, then renders the fat from the cured pork bits. The smell of the guanciale begins to fill the apartment, and Carmy opens a window, just to let the smoke dissipate. 

“You can uh, put some music on if you want,” Carmy says, motioning towards the small bluetooth speaker he has on the coffee table. You agree to, hopping off of the kitchen counter and making your way towards his living area to set up the speaker.

You flip through your phone, looking for a good playlist to put on, settling on one of your dinner party playlists. The speaker booms with the sounds of an old jazz standard, redone as an acoustic cover, and you turn the volume up a little as the water for the spaghetti comes to a boil. 

You spend time looking through Carmy’s bookshelf. It’s filled with thick-spined cookbooks from James Beard winning best restaurants and chefs. You drag your fingertips over the spine of a few classics, but settle on a fairly new book, written by someone at the New York Times. 

“Do you have any other books besides cookbooks?” you call out to him. 

He lets out a dry laugh and you take it as a no. 

You make your way back to your spot on the counter, sliding the open chip bag over, before hopping back up to your seat. You flip through the cookbook as Carmy stays busy with the pasta. 

It’s quiet moments like these that you’ve missed so much. Some days the two of you could talk for hours about sous vide vs reverse searing, and the right way to make a fucking bearnaisse sauce. Other days, Carmy wasn’t much for conversation, and you loved those ones equally. Sometimes, you just wanted company, so he’d come over and work on a recipe and you’d read while he worked in your kitchen.

You could just be together, and it was nice to feel that again. 

No awkward tension of things left unsaid. 

But there was a different kind of tension that seemed to linger between the two of you and you wondered if it had always been there. Had you just never noticed? Between the little comments from Richie about being out of his league, and Pete’s open-ended ‘not in front of his’ you wondered if everyone knew something you didn’t. 

“Which one’d you go with?” he asks, continuing his graceful dance around the kitchen. 

“Korean American. Eric Kim. I hadn’t had a chance to pick up a copy for myself yet, actually,” you answer, flipping through the first few pages.

Your met with quiet as you continue your story.

“You know we’re kind of friends. We went out for drinks a few times. Before I quit my job. Went dancing in the east village and stayed out till two in the morning bar hopping and gossiping about our mutual celebrity crush, Timothee Chalamet,” you add, your attention still fixed on the vibrant, colorful food photographs. 

“Timothee Chalamet, huh?” Carmy asks, amused.

Your attention isn’t on Carmy, or what he’s doing, save for the sounds of him moving around the kitchen. That is, until you look up to find him unceremoniously close to you, peering over onto the page you seem so fascinated with.

“Jesus Christ, Car!” you gasp, surprised by his close proximity. Your heart was beating faster as he took a step back.  “You scared the shit out of me!”

“Sorry,” he mumbles, his head hanging as he takes a few steps back. “Didn’t mean to.”

“No, it’s okay!” you assure. But it’s too late, so you change the subject, deciding to finish your story. “Anyways uh… I had to hang out with someone after you left New York. Make some new friends.”

“We both know you’ve never struggled with that,” Carmy points out, eliciting a playful eye roll from you. 

He returns with the most aesthetically pleasing twirl of spaghetti carbonara. It’s so perfect you almost can’t fathom eating it. He hands it to you, then returns to his kitchen counter, plating a second bowl for himself.

After finishing the second twirl, he carelessly tosses his carving fork into the sink, opening another drawer to grab two forks for eating.

“Come on. You don’t want it to get cold,” he encourages, handing you one of the forks. 

He waits patiently for you to try it first, so you dig your fork in, creating a spaghetti twirl that hugs the fork, before raising it up to your lips. You open your mouth, taking a bite, before closing your eyes in absolute bliss.

“I can’t fucking stand you.”

He smiles, and it’s the biggest smile you’ve seen on his face this whole week. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean. Fuck you. Like… absolutely fuck you.”

He laughs, finally picking up his own fork and digging into the second bowl he’s plate for himself. 

Holy fuck, is it out of this world.

“Like, do you think they’re such a thing as a talent aggression? Like a cute aggression, only I want to squeeze your head off because you’re so damn talented-kind of aggression?” you pitch your idea to him, playfully. 

He laughs, a blush spreading across his cheeks, “Uh… no. I don’t think so.” 

Carmy rests his back against the counter, as you eat together, side by side. You eat quietly, exchange looks and quiet giggles as the two of you finish your pasta, slurping up the cheesy, egg-yolk coated noodles. When you finish your bowl, you put it down on the counter next to you, throwing your head back with a sigh. 

“Thank you,” you say, fully satisfied as you feel the dopamine rush of eating carbs. 

“That good, huh?” he asks, a cocky smirk on his face. 

“So good,” you exhale happily, as you rest your head on his shoulder. “And you know it, you asshole.” 

He chuckles, turning his head towards you just as you lift your head off of his shoulder, your faces mere inches away from each other. You watch as his face turns a few shades darker, the blush across his cheeks running through his whole face. 

Are you two fucking idiots to pretend that you were just friends?

Yeah. Yes, you are.

“Sorry, I’m, I didn’t mean to um,” he stutters, beginning to pull away from you.

“Wait,” you call out, reaching out to stop him. You grab his arm. 

And there it is again… the tension. That thing that, even when you had talked it out, has remained between you two. He stops moving, his eyes fixated on your hand – the one that’s reached for him. The one that feels hot against his skin. 

“Carm, I-. Um, I’ve really missed…” you stammer through, trying not to sound as breathless as you feel. 

I’ve really missed you.

“... your carbonara.” He looks up at you with those beautifully sad, cerulean blue eyes, and if you weren’t breathless before, you certainly are now. 

“You should make this more often,” is all you manage to get out, and you know you sound helpless. 

He doesn’t know what to say back. That he can hear the ache in your voice – a yearning for him that he never imagined anyone could ever have for him. That it’d be world war three, trying to get a carbonara on the dinner menu. That screaming would ensue over a goddamn emulsion. That there’d be no way to pull this off authentically, and that he’d have to use heavy cream, and no fucking way would he compromise on that. 

On your favorite fucking dish. 

That he only has these ingredients on hand because he went out and bought them in preparation for your visit. 

That he only got them for you. 

Because he maybe only wants to make carbonara for you, and only you, for forever and ever. 

That he’s missed you too, and that wanting you is one of the scariest things he’s ever felt. 

His eyes flicker from your hand, the one still holding onto him, and then back to your face. He’s not sure what possesses him to do it, but he can hear his brother’s voice in his head, let it rip, pushing him to lean in – even closer towards you. You wrap your fingers around his arm, encouraging him closer to you – if it’s even possible. Your foreheads meet and it’s as if all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room. It’s like your vision narrows and the dimly lit apartment has faded away behind you. 

It’s just you and him. 

You feel dizzy – in the most delicious way possible.

You’re not sure who moves in first, but the tip of his nose is ever so gently bumping against yours. You brush the side of your nose against his, neither of you daring to take a breath. 

“Carm?”

He doesn’t answer, so you gently begin to leave a kiss against the corner of his mouth. 

“This okay?”

Then the side of his top lip. 

“Mhm,” he nods, eager to continue where this is going. 

Then you pull back, pulling him towards you so that, as you remain perched on top of his kitchen countertop, he fits perfectly between your knees. You lean in to kiss him, and this time, it’s not as hesitant… not as cautious as you’ve both been. 

No, these kisses are different, each one opening up the door to more and more – more want, more need, more lust – and as it blooms, as it blossoms, you feel Carmy’s hand move gingerly to cradle your face as you fall down the rabbit hole. Your fingers tangle into his blonde curls allowing your sheer want for him to consume you. It’s lips, and tangled tongues, and tentative, soft moans as you continue to pull each other closer and closer.

And you slowly begin to understand: the lingering tension, the avoidance of labeling you from his brother-in-law, why he’s been terrified to say a damn thing to you this entire week.

As much as you tried, and as much as he’s tried, neither of you had put that night behind you. 

Sure, it was shitty timing, and sure he wasn’t in the right headspace then. But now? 

Now, could be different, if you’d let it. 

Carmy pulls away from you, reluctantly, his face hot before asking, “You uh, you wanna take this somewhere else?”

His tone is hopeful, as if he’s the teenage dirtbag asking the prom queen out – like if you heard him, and you laughed in his face, he simply wouldn’t survive it. 

But your response is quite the opposite, and he feels silly for worrying, as you manage a breathy ‘yes’ going back in for one more kiss. He gives you some space to hop off the counter and you grab his hand, leading him towards his bedroom. It’s not a huge place, so you put two and two together about where that is. Carmy leaves the lights off in his bedroom, the only glimmer of light either of you can see comes from the living room lamps, and the kitchen overhead. 

With his hand in yours, you pull him towards you again, and he’s more than happy to let you lead. You begin to kiss him, taking note of how perfectly his top lip feels nestled in between yours. He follows you down to his bed, hesitant to put his full body weight on top of you. You giggle into the kiss, pulling him down to you. 

“I’m not a porcelain doll, Carm,” you tease, gently. 

You feel his lips twist into a smile against yours, as he begins to leave sloppier, wetter kisses down your neck. You allow him to explore as his hesitation lessens, his hands beginning to bunch up the hemline of your shirt. Higher and higher. And before you know it, you’re taking it off, impatiently throwing it somewhere you’ll barely remember in the light of day. You pull Carmy back down for another kiss, this time with a little more intensity, as he covers his body with yours, his hands and mouth exploring every inch of newly revealed skin that he possibly can. 

You’re not sure when his shirt joined yours on the floor but before it registers, you’re running your fingers across the muscles of his back, exploring each peak and valley. You hiss in pure pleasure as he pulls down one of the cups of your bra, his tongue running across one of your nipples. You can feel him smile against your skin, a well-won reaction from the pleasure he’s giving you. His other hand reaches up to give equal attention to your other breast, and moments later, you’re both impatiently pulling your bra off. 

“Wanna try something,” Carmy murmurs, his eyes meeting yours. 

You can feel the wet heat pooling between your legs as you breathe out, “Okay.”

The anticipation is building in your body and you feel like your head might explode. Carmy busies his mouth once again, leaving kisses down your torso as his hands begin to fiddle with the button on your jeans. You giggle, more than willing to help him out as he gets them undone, lifting your hips so that he can slide them off. 

He’s hesitant, and you’re trying your damnedest to be patient as he takes his sweet time to marvel at your almost-naked body. 

“So fucking perfect,” Carmy whispers, in between leaving wet, open mouthed kisses across your hip bones. You can hardly breathe, panting out loud as he continues his exploration. You make space for him between your legs as he slips his hands into your panties, dragging a finger up and down your dripping sex.

He checks in with you, gauging your reaction, and you nod as he continues what he’s doing. 

“This all for me?” he asks. He means for it to sound confident, but as the words leave him, he sounds more surprised than anything.

Before you can answer, he’s pushing your legs wider, his tongue gently running across your clit, causing you to cry out to the gods. He’s tentative at first, but it doesn’t take long for him to gather up the confidence to keep going, with the noises you’re making. At first it’s all tongue, licking, circling and flattening up against you, but you’re losing your mind as he adds his fingers back into the mix. His fingers are buried deep inside of you while his lips and tongue are bringing you far past your edge.

It’s as if the only words you can remember are his name, and ‘fuck.’ 

You feel his lips curl into a smile against you as he murmurs, “Just wanna make you feel good.”

You can feel it – your climax – building up, and Carmy groans, rutting his hips into the bed as he can no longer ignore how hard he is. 

“Carmy, yes. Don’t stop, please. I’m-,” you beg, your voice shaking.

And he has no intention of stopping till he gets what he wants – till he makes you cum. He works you through your orgasm, groaning against you as you cum on his tongue and around his fingers. You swear for a moment that you can’t hear a single thing as stars fill your vision. As you come to, it starts with only the sounds of the heavy pants that escape your mouth. Carmy sits up, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. 

“Holy fuck,” you say, breathless. 

Carmy lays over you once again, kissing you, and you can taste yourself on his lips. 

Your hands fumble with the button on his jeans and you order, no patience left in a single cell of your body, “Off. These need to come off.”

He chuckles, hurrying through the removal of his jeans. You’re so eager to feel the weight of his body on top of yours again that you pull him back down to you before he’s even able to properly take them off. 

He’s kissing you again as you reach down, grabbing his hard length through his underwear. He’s thicker than you remember. You slip your hand into the waistband of his briefs, causing him to grunt. He hisses your name as you wrap your soft hand around his dick, bucking his hips into your hand. 

“Do you have a condom?” you ask, desperately. “I wanna feel you, Carm.”

“Mhm.”

He doesn’t keep condoms around. It’s not like this happens very often for him. But Richie had thrown a pack of condoms at his head the minute he found out that the friend that was coming to visit was a girl. Richie had teased him with some stupid quip like ‘don’t forget to wrap it up, cousin. No one wants a mini-eleven madison park dickhead running around here.’

He hadn’t expected this to happen. But it’s not like he’d thrown the condoms away either – tucking them into the single drawer of his nightstand. 

You wait as he reaches over and pulls out a condom from his nightstand. You want to ask him about why he has them, but as long as you get to feel him, you’re not sure you care. 

You’ve been here before with him, but this is different. He sits up on his knees and you follow him, pulling his briefs down properly and giving him time to roll on the condom. He follows you back down onto the bed as you wrap a leg around his waist so that he can fit perfectly between yours. 

He waits a beat, and then you feel his thick tip pushing against you, causing your breath to catch in your throat. He rubs the head up and down your slick core, before slowly beginning to push into you. 

You both gasp at the feel of each other. 

“Fuck. You’re so fuckin’ tight,” he moans, dropping his head into the crevice of your neck. He hopes you can’t tell how utterly helpless he feels.

You hiss at the way he’s stretching you open, the pads of your fingertips digging into his arms. You’re holding onto his arms for dear life as he fills you all the way to the hilt. You let out another moan as you as he stays there for a moment. 

“This okay?” 

You nod, pulling him down to kiss you again. You start moving your hips against his as Carmy gives you shallow thrusts. 

“Hold on,” he breathes out, holding your hips down for a moment. “Just-, just give me a second.” 

And you do, allowing him to collect himself, before he’s giving you shallow, gentle thrusts. 

But you’re in desperate need for more. 

“Carmy?”

“Yeah?”

“Fucking move.” 

Finally, finally, he pulls almost all the way out, before driving himself back into you, earning a cry from you as the pleasure is just too much. 

“Oh fuck!”

You want more. You want everything and all of him and so much more. And he gives it to you, continuing to check in that what he’s doing is okay. Before you know it, you’re begging him to go faster, harder, convincing him that you’re not fucking breakable and that you want more, grasping at the sheets and his biceps, and his curls –  anything you can hang on to as he’s bringing you over your edge again for the second time tonight. 

You’re crying out his name as you cum, and Carmy thinks it may be the sweetest, best thing he’s ever heard in his life. He fucks you through your climax, beginning to slow down the pace of this thrusts. He pauses, kisses you long and hard, passionately pausing just to be in this moment with you. 

“Carm?” you manage to get out. You wonder if he can hear how much you want him just by the sound of your voice. 

“Hm?”

“I wanna ride you,” you say, and you can feel that your words have gone straight to his dick as he twitches inside of you.

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

The two of you clumsily change positions – him on his back staring up at you in awe, like how the hell does that perfect, beautiful, creature want to be here with me now? You reach down, guiding him back inside of you and you’re both gasping at the contact. You begin grinding your hips against him, watching his eyes roll back as you make your movement a little bigger. 

“Jesus Christ,” he sighs out, the pleasure of it all taking over his brain. 

You know he won’t last much longer as you begin to ride him, rocking your hips back and forth. Carmy hands are on your hips, then running up and down your torso, grabbing your tits, and then they’re pulling you down to him for another passionate makeout as you continue your movements. You can feel his thrusts becoming more erratic as he starts thrusting up into you. You keep riding him, reaching for his hands and placing them along your hips. 

“Show me how you want it,” you whisper in between kisses. 

“I think this is nice,” he manages to say. 

“Show me how you want it, Carmen,” you demand, emphasizing your need for him with use of his full name. “Let me make you cum.” 

You squeeze his hands against your ass, egging him on, and he’s not sure what he’s done to deserve this. He holds onto your hips, before thrusting up into you, setting a bruising pace as your moans become louder and louder. You scream out his name, as he brings you closer and closer to your high, chasing his with him. 

He grunts, his thrusts becoming sloppier, messier, more desperate and you let him use your body in the most delicious ways. 

“Are you gonna cum?”

Instead of answering, he’s driving into you like a fucking mad man, and you’re riding him through his high till you both collapse. 

Carmy lets out a strangled moan as he cums, so you begin to slow your movements. You’re breathless, hunched over him, your foreheads touching as you exchange a laugh.

It's a kind of 'I can't believe we just did that' kind of laugh.

“Holy shit,” he says, shaking his head. 

“Yeah,” you agree, a stupid, blissed out smile on both of your faces.

“That was-.”

“Yeah.”

You get off of him, allowing him to get up and dispose of the condom. He’s not gone long before he returns to you, wrapping the both of you up in his sheets and into his arms. It feels unlike anything you’ve ever had. 

It feels… magnificent. 

“Stay with me tonight?” he asks, leaving a few soft kisses along your shoulder. 

“After that?” you giggle, as his lips against your neck begin to tickle. “You’re not getting rid of me, Berzatto. Not a fucking chance.”

read: part five

taglist: @lazypeachsoul @bookwormvoyageuse @allthefandomstogether @gaysludge @sobshoney

[goldenseresinretriever]

Snitches Get Stitches: Chapter 6

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Summary: Jake Seresin, golden boy of the NHL and Captain of the Dallas Stars makes headlines when he unexpectedly signs with newly-formed San Diego Dogfighters. When your future seems at the verge of crashing down, you receive the opportunity of a lifetime to become the team physician for the Dogfighters. You never expected to be working directly with your favorite hockey player. Jake has a secret and you have a job to do. Will he be able to trust you enough to help and will you be able to trust him with your heart?

Series CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, violence, sports violence, medical stuff, blood probably, angst, fluff, (eventual) smut, forbidden romance, sexual harassment, suggestive language, medical inaccuracies, hockey inaccuracies etc. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: This is a repost of my completed series, Snitches Get Stitches. It was originally posted in October-November 2023, and was lost when my blog was deleted.

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

You pull onto Jake’s street at 7:05 on Monday morning, barely suppressing a yawn. You’d originally planned to show around eight since the two of you weren’t expected in until nine but Jake had texted you last night asking you to come over earlier because he “needed help with something.” He’d also explained that the garage would be open for you to park inside. You know that has nothing to do with safety since no one in this neighborhood looks desperate enough to steal your piece of junk on wheels, so you wonder absently if Jake’s ashamed of having said vehicle parked in his driveway. On second thought, maybe it’s simply a privacy measure in case the paparazzi come snooping for a peek into his personal life.

As you catch sight of the familiar beachfront property, you note that the garage is, in fact, open. You suppress a snort, rolling your eyes as you pull into the garage and see the newly added, hand-painted wooden sign at the front of the space designated for you. Bright green letters announce it as “the carrot patch” complete with crudely painted carrots adorning the rest of the plank. You absently wonder what you’ve gotten yourself into. After your conversation with Jake on Saturday night, you’d agreed to be friends, but part of you is starting to become lightly concerned with exactly what Jake’s definition of friendship looks like.

You park and head back to the front door, ready to tease Jake about the sign when he opens the door and every thought in your mind flies out the window. He’s wearing an apron that says “Grillmaster” in flaming text over his pajamas.

“Mornin’ Bugs, ready for business?” His grin is wide and infectious and you roll your eyes. It’s way too early for him to be so cheerful.

“You’re in a good mood.” His eyes dance playfully as he wraps his free hand around your arm, the other wielding a spatula, pulling you inside where Pudding dances around behind her owner, just as excited to see you. You drop down to give Pudding a big hug, not minding as she slobbers all over your scrubs. Jake moves past you towards the kitchen. Pudding pulls away from you, dancing on her toes as she looks back to make sure you’re coming with them.

The kitchen smells amazing and you watch Jake as he flips pancakes with one hand and sips coffee with the other. The scene is endearingly domestic as he looks up from the pan to where you’re awkwardly standing in the doorway. He smiles, using his chin to direct you to the barstools across from him as he asks, “How do you like your coffee?” He nods in the direction of the coffee machine to his right.

“Oh…” You hesitate as you sit down on one of the stools. “I don’t.” You give him a nervous laugh. “I’m a matcha girl.” He just nods, smiling at you.

“Duly noted, Bugs. We can stop somewhere on our way in.”

You shake your head, waving him off. “It’s fine, Jake. I don’t need one every morning, I only really make one when I have time.”

“We have time today.” He gives you a gentle shrug as he passes you a plate with three pancakes.

“Thanks.” You blush softly at the fact that you’re here, sitting in Jake’s kitchen, discussing your favorite morning beverages while he’s cooking you breakfast. “Speaking of time, why’d you ask me to come over so early? You mentioned you needed help with something?” You take a bite of the pancakes and barely suppress a groan at the tangy burst of blueberry that coats your tongue. “Jake, these are amazing.”

He chuckles at your reaction before he sighs, leaning on the counter slightly. “Pudding needs a walk and I’m supposed to be on leg rest so…” He trails off and you can tell he doesn’t like having to ask you.

“Sure thing, Jake, I can take her out.” You reach down to scratch Pudding’s ears where she’s sitting on the floor next to you. “You don’t mind, do you, Princess Pud? We’ll go on a walk while your dad gets some rest, yeah?” She snuggles up to your hand and you don’t think she minds at all. “I’ll finish these up and we can get going.” You pause, thinking. “Jake who took her out over the weekend?” You’re trying your best to keep the accusation out of your tone, but you ARE his physician after all. He just chuckles in response.

“Javy did, don’t worry. I’m adhering to all your rules, Bugs.” You nod.

“So you talked to him?”

“Yeah, I talked to him. He deserved to know before the rest of the team. We usually tell each other everything, at least until now. He’s my best friend…” Jake looks at you ruefully. “I can’t lose him.” The TOO is implied in his eyes and your heart aches.

“How’d he take it?” You ask carefully.

Jake’s face lightens at that as his lips curve into a smirk. “He offered to move in.” You choke on your pancakes, giving him a bewildered look. Jake offers you a glass of water you hadn’t noticed him fill. After washing down the chunk of pancake lodged in your throat, you’re back to glaring at Jake.

“And you didn’t think to take him up on that?” You were here in his kitchen at 7 am and you could be asleep in your bed. Jake’s face twists in disgust.

“Just because he’s my best friend doesn’t mean I want to live with him. The last thing I want is for my house to become a revolving door for puck bunnies because he refuses to grow up. And if any of them saw me?” He shakes his head. “News of my injury getting out before we make an actual PR announcement sounds like a nightmare and a lecture from Zam that I’d rather avoid.” He shudders. You nod slowly. He’s not wrong. Javy Machado may be a sweet person and a good friend but the man was notorious for being more than a little cavalier in his personal life. He was frequently pictured leaving games or bars with a woman or three on his arm.

Admittedly, however, Jake had been similar during his early years. He and Javy were a dynamic duo on and off the ice from college through their time together in Arizona. Both had been surrounded by women and yet neither had ever been in public committed relationships. After leaving the Coyotes, however, Jake had seemingly aged out of his playboy ways. While his popularity had only continued to skyrocket once he joined the Stars, the photos stopped.

“So,” you start and Jake arches an eyebrow in your direction to let you know he’s listening as he flips another pancake effortlessly. “You used to be like Javy, and who would blame you, you’re a celebrity, but why’d you stop I guess? Was it just what you said, you grew up and Javy didn’t or…?” You trail off, not really sure why you want to know, but hey if a secret wife and child are about to walk into the kitchen to help themselves to pancakes, you’d like a heads up.

Jake shrugs. “I guess I ‘grew up’ if that’s even what you call it. In the beginning, it was so exciting, all the attention, the women, et cetera but at the end of the day I’m in this gig to do one thing and that’s play hockey.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re good at it then.” The comment slips out before you can stop it and Jake smirks at you.

“Damn Bunny, you a fan?” Your heart skips as he shines the full force of that charismatic media smile on you. You can’t let him get to you, though.

“Contractual obligation, remember?” You wink. He chuckles at you bantering back.

“You gonna keep that excuse up and the next thing you know, you’re wearing my jersey opening night.” He winks back and your cheeks are flaming. Little does he know it wouldn’t be the first time you wear his jersey. You’re not sure how to respond so you give Pudding’s head a muss and stand up.

“We should get going. Be ready to go when we get back or else we’re going to be late.” Jake chuckles at your deflection but waves the two of you off, collecting your empty plate and depositing it in the sink beside him, replacing it with his own.

***

When you and Pudding get back from your walk, Jake is on the couch, attempting to tie the shoe on his bad leg, awkwardly bent over the straightened limb. He’s clad in a Dogfighters tee and athletic shorts. What really throws you for a loop is the plastic tiara on his head that proudly reads “Passenger Princess.” You roll your eyes before crossing the room to drop into a squat by his foot. He looks up, surprised, as you take the laces in your hands, tying them for him, before sitting back on your heels.

“You ready to go, Passenger Princess?” You quirk an eyebrow at him, a smirk tugging at your lips, but his face is still an expression of quiet awe.

“Y-you didn’t have to do that.” His cheeks are dusted with the prettiest shade of pink. Your smirk melts into a soft smile at the sight.

“Yeah, but I wanted to. Plus, you’re a princess right?” You give his knee a gentle pat over the brace as you stand, smirking at the tiara. “You ready to go?” You hold out your hand to him and he doesn’t hesitate to take it, not breaking eye contact as he lets you help him up. You grab the strap of the duffle bag next to him, making to hoist it onto your shoulder before it almost takes you down. You’re off balance and about to tumble when Jake grabs your waist. “What the actual fuck do you have in that bag, Jake?” You stammer out as you try to ignore how your heart is pounding against your ribs. You convince yourself that it’s from the almost-fall and not because you’re currently pressed chest-to-chest with Jake, your head craned back to look at him due to the awkward angle.

“Bricks.” He half chuckles the words out but you can tell he’s flustered from the sudden movement too. “Here, I’ve got it.” He rights you, sliding his hand under the strap of the duffel, fingers brushing your shoulder as he transfers it to his own.

When you get to the garage, you face off with Jake’s truck once again. You shift nervously, not breaking eye contact with the behemoth. “Are you sure we can’t just take my car?”

“Nope.” He pops the P. Before going to open the door for you, tossing his duffle bag into the back. “Come on, Bunny, up you go.” You head over, defeatedly and Jake swings you up into the driver’s seat. You know you should probably just ask if he has a stool or something you can keep in the car but a small terrible part of your brain is addicted to the feeling of his hands on your hips, warm and solid, and the way the muscles in arms ripple as he swings you up like it’s nothing. While you’re lost in thought, he’s gotten in himself, before he holds out his hand to you, palm up. “Here, let me see your keys.” You pull them from your purse before tossing it into the back with Jake’s bag. He expertly slides a ring with two keys onto your larger collection. Attached to them is a green puffball with bunny ears that makes your lip twitch as he hands the keys back to you. You tear your eyes away from the keychain to examine the new additions to your keys. The spare fob for the truck, you half expected but the smaller key next to it is a surprise.

“Jake, you did not just give me your house key.” You look at him, incredulously. He shrugs like he gives out his house key to just anyone.

“You’ll be coming here every day, I might be in the shower and I don’t want you waiting outside. Plus, what happens if I fall and I can’t get up? Or some other kind of emergency. It makes sense.” You hate to admit that he’s right because it feels odd. You’re his doctor, and maybe his friend and now you have the keys to his car and his house. “You can argue with me later, Bunny, and I look forward to it, but we’re going to be late if we don’t get going. Turning the keys in the ignition, your eyes bug out as you see the numbers on the dash clock. He’s right. You curse under your breath as you pull out of the garage and Jake reaches over you again to click the remote for the door.

***

You make your way through the training area, towards the locker room. Jake’s called a team meeting to let them know what’s going on with leg and he invited you to come for moral support. Some of the guys, including Jake, are still lingering back in the gym, wrapping up their morning workouts. Your eyes are drawn to where he’s seated on a weight bench and doing bicep curls. “Hey, Hungman!” Your head turns to where some guy from the second line is calling out to Jake, your eyebrows twitching in annoyance.

“It’s Hangman.” You do your best to control your irritation as you correct the other man. Jake turns to where you’ve just come in.

“Really? Well, maybe you just haven’t gotten all the information, doc.” The other man smirks at you, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “Because he’s most definitely Hungman.” He laughs at his joke. It’s not original by any means. It’s one of the many nicknames Jake’s attractiveness has earned him from thirsty puck bunnies. “Or do you prefer Bangman, huh Captain?” He rounds on Jake, expecting him to join in on the teasing but Jake shuts it down coolly.

“Just ‘Captain’ works, Lennox.” His green eyes are cold and shuttered and you fight the urge to cross the room and put your hand on his arm. He sets down the weight in his hand, standing. “Let’s go, we’ve got the meeting in five.” He makes no move to wait for the other man, heading over to where you’re waiting by the door, the ice in his gaze thawing as he gets closer. He doesn’t make any move to touch you and you appreciate his restraint because you can tell that he wants to in the barely there twitch of his muscles. “Thanks.” His voice is so quiet that you almost miss it.

“Don’t mention it.” You glance up at him, briefly. “We’re a team, right? We stick up for each other.” His mouth tugs up at that.

“Always.” He agrees and leads the way to the locker room. Most of the team has already gathered and are sitting on the benches. You linger by the door, present but not intruding. Maverick gives you a smile and a nod from where he’s standing in the back next to a grumpy-looking Cyclone, Zam, Nat, and the rest of the staff. Jake’s chatting with other members of the team as you wait for stragglers. Zam makes her way over to where you’re standing, grabbing your arm and dragging you over between her and Natasha.

“So,” she whispers, raising her eyebrow conspiratorially. “Word from Nat who heard from Javy is that you’re driving Golden Boy to work? What’s that about?” Nat looks just as curious.

You shrug nonchalantly as if it’s that simple. “He asked me to.” You nod towards the front of the room. “He’s actually about to explain that. Well, sort of.” Zam’s eyebrows fly straight up her forehead as she and Nat turn their attention to where Jake’s clearing his throat, standing at the front of the room. Every eye in the room is on him, but not on his face. He’s wearing shorts today and his knee brace is on display.

“So, I should probably just get straight to the elephant in the room,” Jake says and he’s wearing his biggest and brightest media smile, Zam should be proud. “I tore my MCL in June during playoffs. It’s been left untreated for the past two months until last week.” Chaos breaks out. The guys are shocked and next to you, Zam drops her clipboard as Nat’s lips are pulled tightly into a thin line. Silence falls again as Jake tells his team the same story he told you last week and the mood in the room shifts to somber. “I didn’t come to San Diego to half-ass this. Hockey has and is always going to be my first priority and that means being the best player and captain that I can be. I know I haven’t done the best job as either recently but I want to ask for the chance to start over. I’m going to be working with Bugs to heal as quickly as possible and if everything goes well, I’ll still be able to play in the season opener. Since I can’t be on the ice, I’m delegating leadership to our alternate captains, Machado and Bradshaw. Still, feel free to come to me with stuff, but they’ll probably be more available.”

Zam elbows you, jerking her chin towards the front of the room, indicating that you should say something. You begrudgingly squeeze your way to the front and Jake gives you an encouraging smile as you stand next to him. “I’m in the process of scheduling official tests to confirm my hypotheses but as of right now, my professional opinion is that Jake should be able to play in the opener or at the latest be able to come in by the second week. He’s going to be just fine.” You smile and pat his arm, gently. You and Jake field some questions from the team before he squeezes your shoulder in silent thanks as you head back to your spot in the back. Jake wraps up the meeting and Maverick and Cyclone start to head to the front of the room to make some closing remarks when the door to the locker room opens.

The room falls silent as Tom Kazansky steps inside, propping the door open behind him. He’s the owner of the Dogfighters and this is the first time you’re seeing him in person. He’s just as much of a hockey legend as Maverick and Cyclone and you think fondly of your dad as your heartbeat speeds up at the sight of Iceman. “Hey team,” he greets warmly. “Glad I could catch everyone together! I have an announcement to make.” He rubs his hands together. You glance at Zam and she shrugs. She’s just in the dark as you are. “There’s been some concerns raised about the current coaching situation we have here.” Your fists clench in silent fury. You know this is Cyclone’s doing and sure enough he’s wearing a satisfied smirk on his face as Maverick looks nervous next to him. Zam’s face is a mask of quiet rage as she does the same. Iceman’s eyes dance with humor, however. “So I’ve made the decision to bring on an assistant coach.” Murmurs rise among the players. Sure, most teams have multiple coaches but everyone can tell that something bigger is going on right now. “Without further ado, let me introduce you to your new assistant coach.” Iceman smiles, extending his hand to the open door. Your hearing goes muddled and you don’t hear the name he calls because you’re so dumbstruck by the woman who walks through the door. “…though you probably know her best as Dare.” Iceman claps the woman on the shoulder.

She’s wearing a smart navy blue suit and her hair is flawlessly pinned back from her face, the gray streaks in it tasteful. Her eyes glint as smiles out at the dumbfounded team. “Assistant Coach Dare Mitchell, reporting for duty.”

[hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog]

Limelight Series - Chapter 5

Happy Monday! So this chapter 5 of Limelight is a bit longer than the last couple of ones for a few reasons.

1) I felt after reading the first draft of this chapter that I was ending on a downer conclusion, which I really didn’t want to do.

2) This longer version gives a wide range of emotions which I think make for a fun reading experience. We get some swooning times with Jensen, some angst, some laughs, and then ends on a cliffhanger, but I think it’s a more manageable one.

I want to thank you all for reading this story and going on this journey with me and a big thank you to @hobby27 for sending in the ask/message for this story.

All your likes, reblogs, comments and ask to be on the tag list are appreciated and helps my confidence grow as a writer.

I am thinking this story has one more chapter to it, but I am really liking these two, so I may come back to them from time to time.

If you haven't read chapter four, click here to read it and then come back to read chapter 5.

This series came way of a message/ask from @hobby27 she asked:

"I would love something with Jensen and reader. He sees her when he’s at a convention and he’s bonkers for her. She isn’t so interested in a relationship with him because of the fame. So he has to woo her. Make her understand that he’s not a typical movie/tv star. Slow burn."

So I give you the Limelight series- It's a Jensen x reader (plus size, curvy girl) story, Jensen meets the reader in a bar, he falls fist, she is reluctant of course, but secretly she fell for him the second he walked through the door. So can a small town girl and a celebrity make it work?

Warnings for the whole series: language, multi-pov and switching between the pov mid chapters (sorry I can't help it), Jensen coming off aggressive for a hot second but then cooling off. Some douche side characters and some lovable ones, body shaming, angst, fluff, swoon, Jared is there and Micha is mention.

This story takes place an AU where Jensen is not married but Jared is and has kids.

This chapter is 4K+. Feedback, likes and reblogs are always welcomed. Please don't post as your own work, this is my work. If you would like to be added to my tag list, just ask, I am always happy to add you.

Thanks!

Next Morning

Your 5 am alarm goes off and fills the dead silence of your darkened room with that of the standard chime tones that progressively get louder and louder before you slap the phone and shut the alarm off. Fuck, why does 5 am come so goddamn early, you think. Your brain quickly catches up and reminds you why you have a splitting headache about your date with Jensen and the makeout session to end all makeout sessions.

You bolt up in bed and silently pray your alarm doesn't wake him. However, for him to hear the alarm, he would have to be in your bed, and he's not. Being the gentleman he is, he insisted that he take the spare bedroom since he didn't want to drive back to the city at such a late hour and didn't want to rush things with you. 

You are thankful he suggested the sleeping arrangements since you were also not ready to share a bed with him. Getting up and finding your navy plaid robe to wrap yourself in as you head out of your room and down the hall to Jensen. 

The door is open, and you see that his bed is already made up, and the sound of the coffee pot pulls you to the kitchen. He's there with his back to you, searching in the fridge. 

"I told you I didn't have much in the house." You say, startling him, as he quickly turns around to face you. You give him a smile, walk over to him, and grab two coffee cups from the cabinet. 

"Yeah, you don't." He jokingly agrees and shuts the fridge door. "Guess we will just have to go out then." He says, leaning in to give you a kiss. 

You quickly turn your head so his lips make contact with your cheek and not your lips. "Well, that's different from last night." He says with confusion, wondering what had changed in the few hours apart. He thought you two were on the same page when you went to bed last night.

You quickly turn to face him and give him a reassuring smile. "Sorry, I haven't brushed my teeth yet. As soon as I woke up, I came to find you." You reach behind him and grab the coffee to pour him and yourself cups. 

"I just assume you wouldn't want to taste my nasty morning breath, is all." Bringing the steaming mug to your lips, you start to blow in it to cool it slightly. 

Jensen waits for you to take a drink, and he does the same. Once you set the mug down, he pulls you to him and touches your lips. "I could never not want your lips on mine. Morning breath or otherwise." He states, after breaking from you. "So where do we get breakfast? Rosie's?" He questions, leaning up against the counter and drinking his coffee.

You take a moment, taking him all in. His casual demeanor, just hanging out in your kitchen drinking coffee on a Saturday morning, makes it seem as if this is a regular thing that you two do. 

"How can you make me weak in the knees one minute by kissing me and declaring you love my morning breath and, in the next breath, casually talk about where we're going to get breakfast from?" You question, wrapping your arms around yourself and wondering how this guy is real and how he is still single if he uses lines like that one on women?

He gives a short laugh, " Well, first of all, I love that I make you weak in the knees with my kisses. I will definitely use that to my advantage in the future. Second, you make me feel like myself. I can be myself around you. I don't have to put up a front or be 'on,' as I call it, when I am around other famous people, my management team, and fans." 

He sets down the empty mug in the sink and pulls the robe tied to him and you along with it. 

"Lastly, I don't use these 'lines' on other women; you're the only one I have felt this way in a very long time, " he states, giving a chase kiss. 

You let your head fall onto his chest. "Oh my god, I actually said that out loud! I am such a dork!" Your voice muffled as you talked into his chest, embarrassed to even look up.

Jensen gives a short laugh that shakes his torso. "Don't be, you're adorable. I love that you say what's on your mind. It's refreshing." He replies, rubbing his hand on your back. "Now, where can I take you for breakfast, and do you prefer pancakes or waffles?"

****

You decide on breakfast in the city, actually in the hotel lobby, since Jensen needs to get back for an 8 am panel, and you need to do some work at your studio anyway. Of course, Jensen insisted that you ride with him and that he could bring you back home once he was done for the day. Still, you won out with the argument that there was less chance of the paparazzi snapping a photo of you leaving his car and printing another salacious story about you two if you drove separately.

Jensen must have called ahead while driving, as the hotel was ready for you two once you arrived and made sure to have a corner booth in a private area waiting for you. Getting to the booth and sitting down proved most challenging for Jensen. Fans have camped out around the lobby and flock to him as soon as he steps in.

You entered the lobby a few moments after him, and although he gives you a pleading, 'I am so sorry about this look.' You knew better than to try and intervene or save him. He has Quinn holding the fans back at arm's length, and you start walking towards the restaurant when Evan approaches you. 

"This way, Miss. Y/N," Evan says in a serious, low voice, lightly placing a hand on your elbow and guiding you through the restaurant, bypassing the hostess station and going to the private area behind.

"This isn't necessary; I am a big girl and could have found my way." You quip, pulling your arm back from his touch. Jensen is the only one who you will let manhandle you. Hoping he will leave as soon as you get to the table.

"Sorry, it's my job. You don't have to like it, but I am here for Mr. Ackles's and his protection." He replies, keeping his face stone cold and neutral, showing no emotion or feeling whatsoever.

You take your seat facing away from the entrance, not needing to watch the mob that is still going on in the lobby. "Well, maybe you should go out there and help Quinn. I am fine with sitting by myself." Picking up the menu, you fake look it over as if it was the most exciting thing you would read today.

"My brother can handle it. Mr. Ackles asks that I stay with you."

Oh fuck, so they are brothers. "I don't need a babysitter, and your conversation skills are something to be desired, to say the least. Lest we forget you and I didn't get off on the right foot a few days ago." You quip, remembering that he was the one who was disappointed in the fact Jensen and Jared had dragged them out to a bar in the sticks.

You pull your eyes from the menu to see his face has fallen, and he looks genuinely upset by your words. 

"That wasn't my finest hour, Miss. I am sorry about that. I was a bit buzzed and tired from working all day." He starts to explain to himself, "That's no excuse. I was off the clock but acting not professionally at all."

He is genuine in his apology. "It's fine. Nothing I haven't heard before." You reply, it's best to put it in the past and move on. It's not like you will see him again after this weekend, nor will you see Jensen again. 

Losing your appetite suddenly, you look at your phone and see it's 1/2 hour to 8 am. Fuck, he's never going to make it to his panel if he doesn't get in here. 

"Is there a back way out of here?" You ask, getting up from the booth and quickly glancing at the lobby. The crowd has not let up, and although you want to stay and have more time with Jensen, you also know you've lived in this fairytale long enough.

You look back to Evan, and he seems slightly panicked and confused. “Yes, through the kitchen. The back door opens to the alleyway." He says pointing to the kitchen behind him.

"Great, thanks." You say, making your way past him, stopping and turning back. 

"Tell Jensen…I had to…something came up, and I am sorry." You give him a nod and turn back to walk out of the restaurant and out of Jensen's life. 

****

You put your phone on Do Not Disturb mode as the back door to the restaurant shuts behind you in the alleyway. Letting out the breath you had held ever since you got up from the table. Your lungs feel on fire as you walk the few blocks from the hotel towards your studio, your second safe haven.

Holding back the tears you felt coming on as soon as you had walked away from the table, you keep your composure until your studio door shuts behind you, and you can finally cry it out.

Sliding down to sit on the wood floors, the feeling of the world's weight is somehow off your shoulders, even though you're more miserable than ever. 

Why did you let him get under your skin, into your heart, and make you feel something again? How could you think this would have ended any differently? 

He wasn't going to give up everything for you. You wouldn't wake up and be OK with living in the spotlight, having your every move watched and analyzed by every stranger who picks up a gossip magazine. To compete with fans for his attention, becoming resentful over time, and learning to get along with the bodyguards.

“Fuck!!!!” You yell out, slamming your head against the door and your fists into your thighs. You have never been more thankful this studio was sound proof in your life. 

You sit on the floor for a few hours. You have no energy to move or do anything; you just sit with your thoughts, thinking about him, replaying your conversations repeatedly. Remembering his lips on yours, feeling his body against yours, how you wish you could just get over your insecurities and just be with him. Stop being too rational and thinking about the long game.

You're probably overthinking, thinking he's heartbroken by your leaving. You're sure he's not. Maybe he's happy you decided to walk away so he didn't have to. Ultimately, he keeps his face and looks like the good guy.

A knock at your door pulls you back from going down that dark thought process of him just using you. God damnit, you really don't want to see anyone. 

Keeping quiet, you hope whoever it is will just leave. But they keep knocking. Finally, you get up, dusting your pants off and wiping your cheeks; you take a deep breath and open the door.

****

"What the hell are you doing?" James questions, giving you a look of confusion and slightly pissed off. 

You're taken aback by his attitude. " Excuse me?" you ask, keeping the door slightly closed as you stand in the slightly open doorway and not letting him in.

"I said, what the hell are you doing? You up and leave Jensen in a restaurant with no explanation. And then don't answer your phone while he calls and leaves you dozens of texts and voicemails. The man is out of his mind!" He states he is trying his best but failing to keep his voice reasonable. 'Are you going to let me in or what?' he asks, not waiting for an answer as he pushes his way through.

You're slightly stunned by his tone. James is not one to get pissy with you. Even at his worst, when you two have fought before, he's always the level head of the two of you. 

"Do come in," you quip. Shutting the door behind him, you turn to see he has made his way to the couch. 

Giving the cushion a light pat next to him, you leave and sit down. "Explain yourself." He states after a few moments of silence.

"What? I told Evan that I had to go. Oh, did you know Evan and Quinn are brothers? Besides, Jensen was busy with his fan, and he wasn't going to make it to have breakfast with me and his 8 am panel. So I figure…." you start rambling but then let the conversation drop off. 

James obviously knows what happened or some version of it. "How did you get rope into this?" You question, now wondering why and how he was here?

"Jensen called me when he couldn't reach you. He was, and is, worried about you, " he said, handing me my phone. 

I click it open to see a dozen text messages from Jensen and his voicemails. Begging for you to let him know you are alright, asking for a simple yes or no. Seeing the distress you caused him, how could you be so selfish. 

You're sure he hasn't been himself all day, and the fans have probably noticed. Another reason for them to hate you. "Fuck…what have I done….he probably hates me!" You state to no one. 

Sliding open the text chain, you can quickly send a reply.

You: I'm so sorry. Please don't be mad. I'm fine. I hate that you have been worried about me. Please, I'm fine. 

Jensen: I am not mad. I want to talk. Please, can we talk tonight?

The thought of talking with him about something that can't be changed. You either need to learn to live with or live without this. What more is there to say?

Jensen: Y/N… Please, talk to me.

You know he won't let up. 

You: Come by the studio tonight when you're free. 

Jensen: I will see you at 7, thank you.

You close the text chain and set your phone on the side table. You look up to see James waiting for an explanation. 

"Spill, don't leave anything out. You owe me that much since I had to drive into this god-awful city." He quips, giving you a smile and wink to let you know he wasn't mad that he had to drive in.

"Fine, but I think we need a drink or something," you reply, getting up from the couch and heading for the door.

****

You talked everything out with James over a pint of margaritas and the best greasy tacos, chips, and queso on this side of the Mason-Dixon line. 

"Girl, he is in love with you! how can you not see it!" James exclaims, finishing off his third margarita and pouring the rest of the pitcher into your glass. 

"Can I get another one!" he states, holding up the empty pitcher and motioning to our waitress.

The restaurant is dead, so his outburst through the quiet restaurant is jarring.

"Keep your voice down!" You hush him and give the waitress a sympathetic smile as she picks up the empty pitcher and plates. 

"I promise a hug tip is coming your way," you say to her, hoping it will comfort her.

She gives you a smile, "You're fine, really. If you guys weren't here, I would have to be in the back cleaning. Please take all the time you want." She states, turning and walking back towards the bar.

"She is sweet and a good worker. You should see if she is looking for a second job. She would be…" You start to divert the conversation away from you and your impending relationship with Jensen. Was it a relationship? You've been on two dates and made out a bit.

James can see right through your antics and cuts you off. "No, we are not discussing my need for more staff at the bar. We are here to talk about you and Jensen. So spill why you are sabotaging yourself, " he states, leaning back in the booth, plucking a chip out of the basket.

You let out an audible sigh. God, you hate talking about yourself and your feelings especially. 

"Ok, OK, OK, I am just being a realist. It's never going to work out between him and me. It's just not," you state, hoping that will suffice.

"And why do you think it can't work? He's crazy about you. You've said that you have fun together and feel like yourself around him." Throwing your words back at you. 

James has that perfect recall to remind you what you said when you were happy. Taking a smug drink, he knows that he's right, that you have been happy these last few days.

Ugh, taking a beat, you pour yourself a drink and down it. Fuck, thinking about this is one thing, but saying it out loud.  Running your hands through your hair, you let out another sigh before finally saying it. 

"Because he's….him, and I am nobody. Why would he want to be with someone who can't deal with being in the spotlight, someone that everyone will judge him for being with." Taking a beat, you know, was a lot. Even hearing you say it and putting yourself down like that, you know it's not good, but reality hurts, right?

The waitress comes by, silencing you before you plunge the last dancer in you. "Do you guys need anything else?" She says sweetly, giving you a smile.

"No, just the check will be fine, thanks." You reply, trying your best to be upbeat, but you know you're falling.

"OK, sure. Is it on one or…." She drops the sentence, unsure if we are together or just friends. 

"Together." Both James and I say at the same time.

She snickers, pulls the check out, and sets it in the middle of the table. "Whenever you're ready, I will be back."

You quickly grab the check, but James beats you to it. "What are you doing?" you ask, feeling that you should be the one to pay since we talked about your problems the whole time.

"It's on me, girl," he says, pulling out his credit card and handing the check and card to the waitress. 

“Now, where were we? Oh yes, you lying to yourself and me about why you and Jensen wouldn't work."

"Look, I just know he is in one class, and I am in another, OK. God knows I am not the prettiest girl he could have on his arm or live up to his typical model arm candy." You mumble out.

"Oh, hell no! Y/N, don't you ever think you're not beautiful, OK." James tries to keep his anger and voice in check at a reasonable volume. 

"You are beautiful, a knockout. Do you think he's been slumming it with you these past few days? That once this conference is over, he is going to forget about you and move on to the next town and next girl?"

"Yeah, in a nutshell, that sounds about right." You reply, knowing that James will always come to your defense, especially when it comes to you putting yourself down.

"Has he ever done that? Has he ever come off as a douchebag player?"

"Well, no, but…"

"Exactly, so why would he start now with you? There is a reason why he's never been with anyone long-term."

"Oh, do tell, what is that reason then? And when did you become such an expert in all things Jensen Ackles love life?" You question, wondering where this enlightenment knowledge is coming from.

The waitress stops James from answering, coming back with his card. "Thanks again, guys…and for the record, I think you and Jensen make a cute couple," she says, giving you a smile and wink. 

You're stunned by her comment. She either listened in on the conversation or recognized you from the tabloid. Either way, it was nice of her to say such a nice comment without prompting. 

"Umm…" you're about to thank her, but she doesn't wait for your response. Turning back to head towards the kitchen.

James quickly signs the bill and leaves a generous tip. "See, someone else thinks you and Jensen should be together," he quips. 

Sliding out of the booth. "Let's go, got to get you back to the studio." He states, heading for the door.

****

The walk back is short, and James doesn't pick up the conversation, which you're OK with since talking about this in the restaurant was one thing, but out on the busy street, where anyone could hear, yeah, not going to happen.

Back at your studio, you open the door and walk in, but James stays in the doorway. 

"What? You're not coming in?" you ask. Looking at your phone, you see that you still have a few hours until Jensen should show up.

"I am going to go. You need time by yourself before he gets here, that's all."

"OK, but you never answer me about his love life. Why do you think it's all fake?"

"I mean, come on, his management team has to be behind it. I am sure it was all for publicity; he had to show up with someone." He takes a pause, and you can tell there is more. You give him your perfected stare-down that always gets him to talk. 

"OK, fine, Micha told me, alright!"

"What!? When did you talk with Micha? And why were you talking about Jensen's dating life with him?" You question, now wondering what James said and what Micha knew. Did he know about you baling on Jensen today? Fuck, what did the other cast members think?

"Look, Jensen came through. Micha and Jared showed up at the bar the other night, and we hung out and talked. They both knew that Jensen was out seeing you, and I may have come off a little bit like a protective older brother…"

"What the hell did you say, James!" Now, I really feel your cheeks red from embarrassment. God, why do you do this to me!

"No, it's fine. I just asked if Jensen was a good guy or a player. I keep it very cool and casual. OK, I didn't act all 'I got a shotgun in my truck, and I know how to use it' mode." 

"Ugh, OK, fine, I can't be mad at you for caring." You conceded, knowing that he was coming from a good place and that you should be so lucky that he cares for you like a friend so much that you do not want to see you get hurt.

"So what else has got you wanting to put the breaks on this and shut him out?" He asks, leaning against the door frame. 

"I don't know if I can get used to being second place to his fans. And I would never ask him to choose between me or his career. The idea of having people follow me around taking photos, digging through my past and personal life."

"That's true; it would be something that you would have to get used to, but it's also something that you and he need to discuss and work through. You can't just drop him for something he can't completely control. Do you think he likes having to sneak around or keep you waiting because he can't escape a group of fans? I am sure he would have rather spent his morning with you."

"You're right. I need to be honest with him, tell him what I feel, and see where he is with everything. Come to some understanding."

"Exactly." James phone goes off, and he quickly looks at the incoming text, 

"Oh, I have to go. I am meeting someone," he says cheekily, giving you a smile and wink.

"Would it be Micha?" You question, now wishing he would stay so you could start grilling him about his interactions with the superstar.

"Maybe…come here", he says, slipping his phone back into his pocket. He reaches for you and brings you in for one of his best hugs. Holding you tight against him, the feel of him, the pressure of his arms around you, helps ground you. 

"You got this; just be honest with him," he says in your ear.

"I will," you say back, holding on for a few more seconds before letting go.

To Be Continued......

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[victoria-daydreams]

The Hare and The Tower

Okay, so I know I just straight up peaced out from updating this story with no warning and I really apologize for that, but after the last chapter the engagement with the story had dropped off pretty significantly and I felt discouraged. Like, I didn't even have writer's block, I just didn't feel like writing another chapter at that point. But now, I'm feeling inspiration again and ready to start posting. So, I present to you a snippet of the next chapter of The Hare and Tower. I'm in graduate school now and I have a midterm paper due by Monday, so don't expect the full chapter to be out until sometime next week.

Taglist: @dogmatic255 @sidechrisporn @amethystwonders11 @ladysindar @sweetwanderlust05 @newandykes @helloimlateforeverything @loveofvernonslife @stitchattacks @dariequeen @kishie8 @girlonfireice @snowymarvel1205 @greenlightower @harrypotteranna23-blog @ipostwhtifeel @poisonedcrowns @ninacutebee16 @watercolorskyy

A terrible dread washed through Jesmyn as she approached the carved, oak door ahead of her. The corridor was far too dark, too quiet. Her body felt heavy, and the air was akin to molasses—each step closer seeming to take a greater effort than the one before. Fear, panic, and apprehension coiled and collided within Jesmyn, the onslaught of emotions created a horrible churning, stomach twisting vortex.

Coming to a standstill just outside of the door, she reached out with a trembling hand to knock on the door, but froze in mid-air.

"I've been informed I'll be traveling to Driftmark with Princess Rhaenyra. We sail at dawn," Jesmyn informed quietly, her hand limply dropping back to her side.

Standing outside of Otto’s bedchamber door, a shiver ran down her spine for the night seemed colder than most. Jesmyn could only stare at the warped flaws in the wood, waiting for a reply, but ultimately was met by silence. Jesmyn strained her ears for a sign of movement behind his door, for she knew he was awake, and he knew that she knew it as well. With each passing second, Jesmyn felt her heart turn into lead, sinking down further and further in her chest.

She remained silent for a few more moments.

"I'm here to bid you farewell Husband, as we part on our separate journeys," she continued, placing her hand on the door. "You are angry at me, this I know," she stated, releasing a shaky breath. "But I will not depart without speaking these words. I love you Otto," she said, spreading her fingers out against the door. "Despite the harsh words we traded, my heart remains yours. Should anything—"

Forcefully, the door swung open drawing a startled gasp from her as the heat of husband’s gaze burned into her own. Otto's expression was unreadable as ever, his jaw was set tight while his mouth a thin line. They held each others stare for a few seconds, both waiting for the other to say something. Jesmyn broke first.

"I will not let our last words be ones we regret," she said firmly

Another long, uncomfortable silence stretched between them. Still, Otto only stared at her, an act which only began to draw Jesmyn's ire. She knew her husband well enough that she didn't expect an immediate reconciliation, but the hope was there in her mind. To her, this silence she was being subjected was bordering on ridiculous, did he not comprehend her words? She was set to sail on the unpredictable waters of the sea.

"I see," Jesmyn said softly, with a nod. "I shouldn't have came. I'm sorry for disturbing you," she apologized, dropping her eyes from him to the floor. "May sleep find you well, Husband," she wished, before turning away from Otto.

Wrapping her arms around herself, Jesmyn walked back down the corridor to her own chambers.

"You posses both beauty and brawn,"

A velvety voice broke through the silence, lingering in the air like a caress. Jesmyn froze in place, mid-step, before slowly turning back around. Once more, her brown eyes stared at Otto's blue and for the first time she finally noticed the tiredness around his eyes; the way his face was paler than usual. Their argument had taken its toll on him far more than he would let on.

"It's why I was so keen on securing your hand in marriage," Otto continued, deeply exhaling as he moved towards her. "Yet, your intellect fails you when it comes to Rhaenyra," Otto noted, coming to a stop in front of her. Leaning down, he pressed his lips against Jesmyn's hairline. "Knowingly or not," he uttered, before kissing the top of her head and lingering there for a bit.

Otto drew back and pushed the few loose hairs from where his lips had touched.

"Otto," Jesmyn whispered, leaning into his embrace.

But as quickly as his embrace came, he retreated from her, like a wave being pulled back into the sea. Entering his chambers, Otto spared one last glance at Jesmyn before he shut the door with quiet click.

[acphengene]

Chapter 11 - Go on darling (written)

₊ ⁺ pairing: Jay x fem!reader

₊ ⁺ genre: brothers bestfriend!au, college!au, neighbors/strangers to lovers!au

₊ ⁺ warings: mild angst, lowkey parent manipulation, sibling death, strong and suggestive language, smut

₊ ⁺ synopsis: you move from sydney australia to seoul to get your degree, what will happen when you spill coffee on a handsome stranger?

₊ ⁺ taglist: open - updates every monday and friday - might update on other times if i want a chapter out sooner rather than later

₊ ⁺ word count: 3,8k

₊ ⁺ note: our first written chapter! it's the only one for a while, so i really hope you enjoy it.

<- previously - masterlist - next ->

You had posted the photo of your dress on instagram, and stood in the bathroom of your apartment, biding your lip in suspense. 

You hoped that he wouldn’t see it. You hoped that you got to see his face as his eyes landed on you for the first time, wearing one of your own creations. And for a few seconds you considered if it were better to delete the photo. 

Incredibly enough you felt relaxed and ready for a night wearing the highest of heels. It felt like you had been running around after the guys, steaming shirts, finding jewelry, styling hair. Normally this work would’ve been one for a small army, but you had a vision, and for that to come true, you needed to be the one to do this. 

A small knock on the bathroom door pulled you from your daydreams of how the night might progress. You hoped that your hard work would pay off, and that people would compliment the guys for their looks. and you hoped you might get a chance to dance with a certain heir. 

“Can I come in?” Jungwoon asked through the door. 

You felt how you were suddenly very aware of the design you had made, you were suddenly aware of all the hours you had spent over these last few weeks, and how afraid you were that people wouldn’t find the dress as beautiful as you did. 

“It’s open!” You called back as you decided to figure out what earrings would look good with your updo. It was a desperate attempt to keep yourself busy as her friend entered the room. 

The door slowly crept open, and the catlike man suddenly stood in its opening. 

“Oh…” he almost whispered as you came into view, but the sound was still loud enough for you to hear. 

You looked at him, worry painted all over your face. Was it too much? Was it not enough? Did it hug your figure in all the wrong places? Did you need to get rid of the gloves?

He caught on instantly, and sent a huge smile your way, one that quickly calmed your beating heart. You had never been more beautiful than you were right now, and he had never been prouder of you. 

The four of you all matched. It had been your intention that you would all look like you’d belong together, like pieces of a puzzle. But was it too obvious? Maybe not even obvious enough that all the pieces belonged to the same ‘mini collection’. 

“You look so beautiful” he walked towards you and before you knew it he had pulled you in for a hug. “God damn you’re talented!” He almost screamed. 

You heard the sudden movements of your two other besties' bodies, one clearly falling off the couch, and before you knew it, they were standing in the door opening to the bathroom. 

“Oh wow!” Sunoo said with huge eyes, his hands slowly creeping up to cover his shocked face. 

Niki didn’t speak per say, he just took you in, analyzing the design of the dress with a sly smile on your lips. 

“Everyone is gonna fall in love with you tonight” He then said, a smile reaching his eyes as he pulled Sunoo close to his chest in pure excitement. The two of them couldn’t help the laugh that escaped them. 

“Well we better get going. We don't wanna be late!” You said and hurried past the three men, all of them following close behind, making sure that they didn’t step on the trail of your dress. 

_____ 

Before you knew it you had arrived at the gala. It was a private event, only a few paparazzis and journalists were allowed out front. Still you couldn’t help the constant bounce of your legs as you were sitting in the limousine, waiting to be dropped off. 

Jungwoon laid one of his hands on your knee to calm it. “You need to stop doing that.” He had always found it incredibly annoying whenever you began, but he also understood that it was a way for you to calm your own nerves. 

You nodded, and he sent you a small smile for reassurance. Hoping it was enough for you to finally calm down a little

“It might be your first red carpet, but something tells me it won't be your last” Niki said, as he offered you his arm to hold, right before the door of the limo was opened. He had always been your biggest cheerleader, and in some ways you saw the younger man more as a brother than as a friend. 

“Don’t focus on the lights, if you do they’ll end up blinding you” he whispered in your ear, right before the lights started flashing.  

People were yelling at Niki, yelling at you, yelling at the boys, bombarding you all with questions. And for the first few seconds you found it hard to focus. But as soon as Jungwoon had offered you his other arm to hold, you felt more relaxed, and decided you might as well enjoy the moment. 

Before you knew it, Niki had given you to Sunoo, separating the two of you from one another. He sent you an apologetic smile and said: “I’ll have an interview in a few, so I’ll see you guys inside okay?” You saw a flash of worry in his eyes, but you quickly gave his hand a little squeeze of reassurance. 

“See you inside,” Sunoo said as he sent Niki a smile that was quickly returned.  

“Don’t worry, I’ll sing your praises to anyone who asks me who I’m wearing!” He yelled as he neared the red carpet stairs that led to the entrance. And before you could even answer him, he was halfway to the top, the lights following him wherever he went. 

Niki had been born for the spotlight. He somehow fitted in on this red carpet. It was as much a performance for him as being on stage was. 

You posed for a few photos with your best friends, and before you knew it, you were completely content being the focus of all the blinding lights. Especially when your biggest supporters were right there with you. Making you smile and laugh through it all. 

“Let’s go” Jungwoon said, and the two men started leading you towards the tall stairs, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. 

As soon as you were able to see the doors you spotted him. There he was, as beautiful as ever. 

His hair was dark and swept away from his face, leaving his forehead exposed with just a strand of hair out of place. His lips were curled in a smile as he looked at his father who was speaking to a journalist. 

Him and his parents stood a few meters closer to the door, cameras and microphones and phones all looking in their direction, all trying to get the latest scoop on one of Korea’s most influential families. It suited him somehow, this life. Like Niki, he belonged here. 

He knew you were there before your eyes had found him. It was as if the air had shifted around him. As if he was gravitating towards you, but he had decided not to scout for you before he knew you were closer. 

As you stood tall, on the arms of your best friends he finally allowed himself to look at you, instead of just admiring what he could out of the corner of his eye but he quickly realized that had been a mistake. 

In the middle of a sentence his trail of thought completely stopped. You now occupied every cell of his body, and the only reason he was still breathing was because his heart had to keep beating for you. 

He could hear how the now panicked journalist tried capturing his attention, he could feel how his parents too had turned their heads to figure out just what had stolen his attention. 

“Excuse me” was all he could utter, and he had quickly left his parents behind for the sudden appearance of this mystery woman. 

He stopped before you and the boys, his eyes never leaving yours, a bright pink coloring his cheeks. Cute. 

He didn’t trust himself enough to utter a single word, instead he took a bow, it was deep, it was respectful. And it hid his face from you for just a second, and he hoped that would be enough for him to pull himself together. 

You saw how the lights of the cameras started flashing even brighter, and if to protect you Sunoo took a step forward and gave him what most would most likely call a bro hug, and soon after Jungwoon did the exact same thing. You could see the hesitation in his movements as he tried to decide how to greet you. 

He wanted to do something personal, and if it were up to him he had swept you up into his arms and taken you somewhere, where the two of you could finally be left alone. Somewhere he could finally lose himself in you.  

You decided the best course of action might just be a small wave, it was simple, and in the end it didn’t draw too much attention to the two of you.

But before you got a chance to do exactly that, one of his arms snaked around your waist and pulled you close. His lips then rested for no more than a millisecond on your cheek, it was so fast, so fleeting that you for a second doubted if it even happened. 

“I’m glad you guys could make it” his eyes were scanning the boys outfits. “You all look absolutely amazing,” he said as he slowly let go of your waist. 

If it was up to him, he would keep his arm snaked around you all night long

His eyes sparkled, and he knew exactly why that was. He had come to realize that it had everything to do with you. 

“It's all thanks to this one!” Jungwoon said as his arm snaked around your shoulders, pulling you a little closer. Jay smiled in response to the friendly gesture. 

“You really did an amazing job Y/N…” Once again he completely forgot what to say as his eyes caught yours. 

“Thank you” you said, as your chest filled with pride over his praise. For some reason it felt special coming from him. He was still just a stranger, but he was one with class and style. 

“I better get back to my parents, I’ll see you guys inside when I’m done” 

He turned around and walked away from you, shaking his limbs in the hopes that it would make your lingering perfume disappear from his suit. 

“That went better than expected…” Sunoo said, but your eyes couldn’t concentrate on anything but him as he walked away. 

“Do you think we need to carry her inside? I mean she’s practically pudding in his hands, I’m not really convinced her legs will be able to carry her” Jungwoon said, earning him a laugh from Sunoo and a hit of his arm from you. 

The inside of the building was magnificent, perfectly lit with candles everywhere. Tables were scattered all over the place. The sudden fear of being seated with people you didn’t know hit you, but being your brother's sister, you hope that meant you would be well taken care off. 

“Y/N!” You heard your brother call out for you, and you quickly found him seated in a bar with what you could only assume was the remaining men of his friend group. 

They were both handsome, they both radiated power and money. But their eyes were kind, just like your brothers, and just like Jays. 

You sat down between your brother and Sunghoon, as Sunoo and Jungwoon quickly started a conversation with Heeseung. 

“So you’re the little sister huh?” Sunghoon said, a smirk painted on his lips as his eyes scanned your figure in the sparkling dress, and unlike when his friend looked at you, you suddenly felt the need to cover up. 

“I am” you said, trying your best to seem as confident as possible. Jake laughed at the little powerplay that was unfolding before him. He knew both of you well. Sunghoon wasn’t one to give up without a fight, and you had to be one of the most stubborn people he had ever met. 

“Hoon if you’re hitting on my sister we’re gonna have a problem” Jake then said, as he sent a wink your way. 

You returned it with a little chuckle. He had always done that, protected you from the men of the world, especially if those men were his friends. He was the protector your father never was, he was the most important part of your family. 

He quickly raised his hands in defeat. Laughing at your brother. 

“Why is your bestie calling me over?” Jake then said with furrowed brows, right before he drowned the last of his champagne. 

You turned towards the large dancefloor, and saw Niki waving your brother over. You knew exactly what that was about, and you couldn’t help but smile. 

“How should I know I know, Niki can be a little all over the place, but maybe don’t let him wait? He’s talking to Min Yoongi after all” you said and quickly saw the panic in your brother's eyes. 

“See you guys later!” he almost yelled as he ran towards the youngest of your friends, leaving the spot next to you free. Sunghoon was quick to grab the seat, forcing your attention to be on him alone as he was now seated next to the wall. 

He liked to hold the sole attention of the women he talked to. Even the ones who were forbidden fruit. Hell, that made it even better if you asked him. Despite his fuckboy tendencies Sunghoon was more loyal than most when it came to his friends, he would never dare to pursue you if Jake had told him no. But the spark in you had caught his attention. 

He didn’t really know why, he only knew that there had to be a reason for it. 

“It’s a lovely dress” he said and took in the sight of the fabric clinging to your curves, this time admiring the design instead of the body the fabric was hiding for the world. 

“Thank you” you answered and let your hands run down your thighs, desperate to soothe yourself. 

The ballroom was cold, and the lack of both a coat and alcohol in your system definitely didn’t help. And Sunghoon made you nervous. 

Sunghoon couldn’t help but chuckle. He stood up to remove his jacket, but it was as if something caught his attention, freezing him in his place. 

You didn’t dare to turn around, whatever wordless conversation he was having, it seemed private, and you didn’t want to disturb it. 

Jay had caught his best friend's eyes. And Sunghoon could almost feel how his twin flames heart fell, at the sight of him wanting to drape his jacket over your shoulder. At no point did Jay look at his friend, his eyes were only focused on you. 

Sunghoon saw how he instinctively had started removing his own suit jacket, how he had left the conversation he was having behind, without any regards for the old and dusty CEO’s that tried to capture his attention. You were all he saw, so he backed down, and instead just held on to his jacket, telling you a lie about how the champagne had made him feel hot.  

He couldn’t help but smile and shake his head at his best friend. That fucking idiot. He thought to himself. 

“Jay” he said, as his friend was standing directly behind you. 

“Hey” Jay answered. 

Sunghoon then saw how your eyes found his friends as soon as he entered your vision. He saw the involuntary way you started smiling, how your whole demeanor became more relaxed as soon as Jay's signature scent of ‘black orchid’ hit the two of you. 

“May I?” he asked as he towered over you, and looked at his suit jacket, signaling his intentions. 

“Please” you answered. It was no more than a whisper, some might even have called it a whimper, and Jay felt how his heart started beating even faster than it had just done, and his cheeks were once again painted with a subtle pink color. 

Sunghoon couldn’t help but roll his eyes, and chuckle silently at the sugarsweet interaction that was happening before him. 

You loved the way Jay’s heavy suit jacket surrounded you. You loved how the smell of him suddenly was the only thing your senses could pick up on. 

Jay smiled at you, hands lingering on your shoulders. Sunghoon just stood there observing the two of you. He didn’t dare breathe, he had a feeling that that was all it would take for the two of you to retreat back to the people who had already decided they were gonna close off their hearts for one another. 

“Y/N, this is Sunghoon,” Jay said, finally acknowledging his best friend. “He’s my best friend” 

Sunghoon smiled at his words; “don’t forget the love of your life” 

Jay laughed, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sound. 

“We all need one of those,” you stated.

Sunghoon couldn’t help but feel relieved by your words. His worst fear had always been that Jay would end up with someone who didn’t quite understand the bond that the two boys had. But if you did, and if Jay did in fact want you as bad as Sunghoon expected, he would move heaven and earth to help the two of you. 

“We do, don’t we?” he said and patted his best friend on the shoulder and then suddenly pulled him in for a hug. 

“It’s her, isn’t it?” Sunghoon whispered in his ear. 

Jay pulled away a little and looked at him with big and choked eyes. 

“Don’t you dare lie to me Jongseong. I’ll always keep your secrets. But I think you might need to prepare her, your parent are walking over here as we speak” 

Sunghoon quickly smiled at you and then excused himself. 

“He’s something else” you stated and couldn’t help but chuckle. 

Earning you an instant smile. 

“He really is,” he responded. 

Then he stretched his arm out, offering his hand to you. You took it and looked at him with skeptic eyes. 

“What are we doing now Park?” you asked, as you got on your feet. The height of your heels prevented him from towering over you, instead you were able to look directly into his eyes. 

“Well don’t freak out now, but my parents are on their way over here, and I thought my mother deserves to see the dress that you’ve made” once again his eyes were sparkling as he looked at you. And you couldn’t help but think that you could get used to him looking at you like that. 

And then the severity of his words hit you. His mother. She was a talented business woman, a designer, and your all time idol, and here you were, sitting with her son's jacket flung over your shoulders as you smile as an absolute idiot and cling to his every word. 

“Shit!” you whisper yell as you pull off his jacket as fast as you possibly can, and throw it back in his face. 

The jacket hit Jay in the face, and he couldn’t help the surprised laugh that escaped him as he pulled it from his face. He just looked at you with complete shock and admiration. 

His father then coughed to capture his son's attention, an accomplishment that hadn’t been easy that night. 

“Mother, father, allow me to introduce you to Sim Y/N, Jake's sister” he said, eyes never leaving you. 

You bowed at the two parents, one they returned quickly. 

“Your Jaeyun’s sister! How come we’ve never met you dear?” his mother said and gave you a polite hug, as she kissed each of your cheeks in a greeting. 

“Y/N just recently moved back here from Australia” Jay answered on your behalf. 

“I’m pretty sure the woman can speak for herself Jong” his mother then said, as she sent her son a look. 

You laughed. 

“Ah let him be a gentleman in front of her my love” his father then said as he pulled his wife a little closer as she rolled her eyes at her husband. 

“Your gown is exquisite Y/N” his mother then stated as she looked you up and down, taking in all the little detail and the fine hand stitching. 

You felt the instant heat in your cheeks, and your eyes quickly found the floor, afraid to meet her eyes. 

“Thank you, so much… it means a lot coming from you!” you said as you once again bowed. One that the host once again returned this time with the kindest of smiles. 

“It’s her own creation mother, Jake encouraged her to give it a go when I invited her and her friends” Jay then said. 

His mother saw how her son stood a little taller when he talked about you, she saw how his hand involuntarily stretched every tenth second, as if he was trying to suppress the urge to take yours. And the actions brought a smile to her lips. 

“Well sweetheart, you need to tell me all about your creative process!” she then said. 

You bit your lip, a trait it seemed that you shared with your brother, and looked at the beautiful man who stood by your side. He felt pride in his chest. He felt at home with you so close to him. 

“Go on, darling” he didn’t catch the pet name before it had already rolled off his tongue. 

He wanted to curse at himself, he wanted to take it back at once. But when he saw how your eyes suddenly got bigger, how the words were suddenly caught in your throat and how you fluttered your lashes at him, he knew that he would call you darling for as long as you would allow him. 

His mother then took your arm and let you away from her son, generally wanting to get to know the young woman who had captured her son's eye. 

His father laughed as the two women left them alone. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this, Jong,” he said. 

“Like what?” Jay said, and looked at his father with a raised brow, once again pulling his jacket back on. 

He laid a hand on his only son's shoulder, much like Sunghoon had done earlier. “You look at her, the same way I looked at your mother when I first met her…” 

Jay laughed, “dad, please stop. It’s not like that” it was now his fathers turn to laugh. 

“Oh but it is, don't deny it, and most importantly, don’t let her go because you’re afraid” 

He then left his son alone with his thoughts.

________

₊ ⁺ Taglist: @addictedtohobi @deobitifull

(please like and reblog the post, it means the world to me, my ask is also always open for feedback or theories)

[canirove]

In The Name of Love | Chapter 6

Author's note: Since next Monday is Christmas day, I will be posting the chapter that should be up that day on Wednesday, which means that next week you will have new chapters on Wednesday and Thursday 😊 Also sorry about this chapter being a bit meh and on the short side, but I think I am making up for it on the next one 😁 Also, to those of you who are just reading this and don't follow me, happy holidays and merry christmas to those of you who celebrate! 💜

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

Good luck tonight! Hopefully it won't rain, because those clouds look so bad… (📸) Also look at the sea. Back home it doesn't get like this  (📸) The food here is just 🤤 (📸) You have fans who aren't teenagers 😱 (📸) I wonder if they'll think I'm one too (📸)

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"And?"

"Nothing yet" I sigh. "This was a good idea, right?"

"It was" Emma says, giving my hand an encouraging squeeze. "Traveling to the other side of the country to watch him play is so romantic!"

"I don't care if it is romantic or not. I just want to explain everything to him and for things to go back to the way they were."

"Who would have thought you would end up missing a teenager's dick, uh?" she laughs.

"I should have brought Silvia with me" I reply, rolling my eyes.

"But sadly, she's too busy with Pau finally being back, so you'll have to deal with me" she smiles.

It's been a month since that stupid engagement party, since Pedri and I had that argument, since I last saw him in person. And I've felt like shit every single day.

I should have been honest with him. I should have opened myself to him, share all my fears. But I couldn't. I was too much of a coward, and because of it, I may have lost the person who managed to finally make me close a chapter of my life. The person that gave me what I needed to finally let go. 

But I'm ready now. I'm ready to tell him everything. And that's why Emma and I are here, though her first plan was a bit stalkery.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"I just sent him a good luck message before the game and he has left me as read. Again" I sigh. 

"At least you know he hasn't blocked you."

"Yeah, I guess. But I can't keep living this, I have to do something."

"Why don't you just show up at his house and don't leave until he listens to you?"

"I can't do that, Emma. He'll end up calling the police."

"Then why don't you go watch him play at the Camp Nou? Maybe his friends can help you corner him somewhere so you can talk."

"That isn't such a bad idea, you know… Though they are going on international break after tonight's game." 

"Then let's go watch him play with Spain! You could even wear his shirt, I'm sure he would like that. You aren't allergic to that one, are you?"

"I'm not, no" I laugh. "But I don't know where they are playing and when. And there may not be tickets left."

"Then let's find out" she says, taking out her phone and starting to type.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

A couple of hours after that conversation, and mostly thanks to Ferran, we had it all ready. We would be spending the weekend in La Coruña, a city in the West of Spain where the national team is playing, and where, hopefully, I will find a way to convince Pedri to let me explain myself. 

"Is it him?" Emma asks when my phone buzzes.

"Oh my God" I gasp. "It's him, he has replied!" I say, my hand shaking.

"What does he say?"

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

Val, what is all that? 

Are those photos real?

Yep

Are you here? 

In La Coruña? 

And wearing my shirt? 😳

I am

Wait a second

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Emma, he's facetiming me."

"Then pick up!"

"How do I look?"

"For the love of God, Valeria. Who cares? Pick up!"

"Ok" I say, taking a deep breath. "Hello" I smile.

"Show me around."

"What?"

"Show me around, Valeria."

"Don't need to be so rude, Pedro" I say, moving so he can see where I am. Emma and I had sat down on a bench not too far away from the stadium to kill time until we can go inside.

"You are here. You… Why?"

"Well, Emma and I had a free weekend and wanted to disconnect from the kids, we saw an ad about the game, we had never been to La Coruña, and we said, why not?" I shrug.

"Let's go disconnect from the kids by watching other kids play" Pedri chuckles.

"Asensio isn't a kid."

"Then why are you wearing my shirt?" he asks, arching an eyebrow.

"It was the only one left in the shop" I shrug again.

"Sure" he laughs.

"It was yours or Morata's, and you know how I feel about him."

"I do, yes" he laughs again. God, I had missed hearing him laugh. "Anyway, I gotta go, we are leaving the hotel now."

"Ok."

"Thank you for coming to the game."

"Of course" I smile. But he doesn't. He's gone serious again.

"Bye, Valeria."

"Bye" I say before he hangs up.

"That went well, didn't it?" Emma says.

"Did it?" I sigh.

"It did! You had a little moment there, so there still is hope."

"I guess, but he kept calling me Valeria and… Wait" I say when my phone buzzes again.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

Don't forget to send me your good luck text. 

It is the last thing I always read before warm up

I won't. I promise 😊

❤️

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"See? There still is hope!" Emma says, grabbing my arm and squeezing it. She's actually hurting me, but I don't care.

Because there still is hope.

[anguishedlurker]

Don't Shoot; It's me! No, the other guy! (#38, fake body swap)

HI Y'ALL welcome to my ecto-imposion fic! I'm the writer of course and my wonderful artist was @astravis , and @thesilentbard plus @dragonsdomain he;ped me out with betaing! Check them all out! Buckle up, because this is just the first chapter! And maybe look at the ao3 posting

Of things Danny should have predicted, Skulker and Technus teaming up one day was going to land pretty high on the list.

It all started so normal, too! Getting multiple ghosts at once wasn’t uncommon anymore, and Skulker appearing? Must be a day that ends with Y.

Technus, though...

“I’ll pelt you yet, whelp!” Skulker bellowed, having been ineffectually brained with the remains of a lamppost.

Technus was thusly absorbing the lamppost's remains into his suit, adding yet another object that would qualify as a taser in the right circumstances.

“AND I, TECHNUS, WILL USE THIS OPPORTUNITY TO-”

“No, really, do you ever shut up?!” Danny cut him off, meanwhile diving behind the remains of- ooohhh this was that vegan place Sam liked. He was going to hear about this one for weeks.

“Your disrespect remains immeasurable, child.” Skulker growled, not wasting time in obliterating what was left of the building.

“YEAH, WHAT IS HE? CHOPPED LIVER?”

Danny didn’t pay this mind, throwing some potshots at the both of them as he skittered away for new cover.

“He’s a mecha pain in my- AAA”

We interrupt this smart comment for debris! Debris; A mark of your failure to protect.

Debris wasn’t a new threat, but regardless? That was going to bruise.

Danny was ready to punch them to paste barehanded if it’d get this fight to stop. Skulker already had a weapon making shield borderline painful to maintain against blasts, and with Technus in tow couldn’t be trusted to not get a random power-boost.

Meaning this needed to end, now!

However, “now” would have to be sometime after Technus’s blasts stopped slapping him down like an especially annoying kitten.

“Ah, finally showing cowardice whelp?” Skulker taunted, lazily aiming one of his guns as Danny darted somewhere over an alleyway.

“I prefer to call it intelligence!”

“RUNNING WILL NOT HELP YOU HERE, PEST!” Technus borderline giggled.

Clearly, Danny thought as a piece of roof exploded behind him.

… That one might’ve been that weirdo occult shop that was trying to set up without him noticing. Couldn’t say he’d miss it, if nothing else.

It was really starting to look like “damage control” meant doing some damage himself to cut this short.

He was absolutely going to hear it from Sam once he was done here, as it wasn’t like ecto-ice was easy to clean up. (God knows what's IN that Danny!)

Somewhere in the distance the Fenton GAV wailed, a bad sign for all participants.

So… one shot to do this, maybe two… Eh. He’s had worse odds before!

One last sacrificial rubble pile to buy a second, aaand-

“I DO BELIEVE WE MUST CUT THIS ONE SHORT! SKULKER, IF YOU WOULD?”

“It's a pleasure to use this new toy.”

Danny didn’t even get time to throw an icicle at them.

The rubble exploded, and then Danny exploded, flung across the street like a sack of potatoes and making several things give an upsetting crack on landing.

Screw bruising at this point, he’d be lucky if all of this managed to heal before Monday.

Note to self: Never ever let Technus Skulker pair up ever again.

“FASCINATING RESULTS!” Technus beamed as Danny groaned his way onto his feet.

“Your move, whelp.” Skulker growled, gun pointed at Danny.

“That little toy? Ha, it barely even-!”

And see, there’s many things about Danny’s powers that would never be properly explained to his friends. How intrinsic they all were by now, above all else.

A running start and pathetic hop into the air didn’t actually mean much for flying; by all accounts Danny could go from zero to sixty in a standing position.

So, the raw humiliation of that pathetic hop- intended to be a full assault launch- landing him in a kneeling position took a second to process.

It was just so impossible.

The metal on Skulkers helm twisted to a smile as the gun gave a shrill whine.

Technus giggled as he absorbed a car into his already overburdened monstrosity of a mech, clearly thinking this fight was done.

The GAV siren had never been so loud.

There was really only one choice: Run. Run for his life.

The street lit up behind him, adrenaline carrying him much faster than he had any right to be on foot.

“RUNNING AGAIN, WHELP?” Technus shouted, much too close for Danny’s liking.

“That’s Skulker’s thing!” He shouted back, at a total loss for anything witty.

“I’ve done no such thing as run, child!”

“I THINK HE MEANS THE TERM WHELP.”

Oh good, yes! Get distracted!

“Your thievery of my vocabulary will not go unpunished; yet, for now, we have our prey-”

“UNPUNISHED? WE ARE ALLIES! TO RAISE YOUR HAND IN VIOLENCE AGAINST ME NOW WOULD-”

“Not right now you imbecilic-”

The blasts behind him were slowing down immensely already, buying him a slide around a corner with enough lead to shove himself between buildings.

Still, even with this he wasn’t exactly well hidden.

His options, in this fine back alley, were… A broken mirror, two cardboard boxes, and a dumpster.

…

The dumpster was uncomfortably moist as he shoved himself in and closed the top, and the smell- is this the nasty burger dumpster??

Slowly the town map in his head adjusted. Eugh… Desperation carried him farther than he thought.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN WE’VE LOST HIM!?”

“The shot must have suppressed his signature. The tracker will be borderline worthless unless we are on top of him.”

Oh, good! Truly, a fair trade for his powers! And once he was done being sarcastic, probably the single blessing he’d get out of this.

“I WOULD CALL THAT EVEN LESS THAN BORDERLINE.”

“Your worthless insistence on semantics is duly noted.”

The bickering continued into the distance, followed shortly by the GAV wailing and his father pointedly screaming.

“Rotten ghosts, molecule by molecule would be too good for you!”

“Phantoms not re-appearing on the radar, but keep an eye out regardless. Who knows what cloaking tactics it’s come up with this time. To the right!” His mom warned, getting fainter and fainter (in the wrong direction) as the GAV sped after Technus and Skulker. Or wherever the altered signal was leading them.

One would think it’d only work the once...

Danny was left to contemplate the situation in silence. Nothing would get done in the dumpster, sure, but hey, uncomfortably moist? More like comfortably hidden.

But beyond that being cowards talk, he reeaallly couldn’t sit there and trust that his parents or even Valerie would pull through on this one.

Okay, well, first task; Phase out of the dumpster.

An action that should be on the same level as ‘flex your jaw’, and yet, Danny was no less uncomfortably moist in sauce juice by the end of his attempt.

The whole thing was unpleasantly reminiscent of the Fenton crammer, minus the shrinking. Powers suffocated to the vaguest wisps in the back of his skull, borderline hallucinations to his futile attempts to use them.

Still stuck in the dumpster, Danny mentally conceded to plan B; Phone a friend.

Tucker was, unfortunately, out at a tech event for the weekend. Which meant it needed to be Sam.

Sam, who was stuck appeasing her parents today in exchange for the stunt with Ms. Hoffman last week.

Somewhere in the distance shots sounded off, indicating that someone had found his two enemies.

Danny didn’t have high hopes as he popped open the dumpster lid and shakily dialed. First of all it’d require Sam to already be out of the dreaded social situation, and secondly it’d mean he got a stroke of good luck if she picked up either way.

His anxiety collapsed to resignation as the ring tone meandered on, leaving him to ignore the layers of irony and humor in his ringtone having been changed to Mystery Skulls’ Ghost.

Pink blasts flashed in the sky from somewhere distant, meaning either Vlad got involved or Valerie had shown up- one more likely than the other.

“Hi! If you don’t know who this is, you shouldn’t have called anyways, and if you do and I didn’t pick up then I’m ignoring you specifically and your voicemail better give me a good reason to call back. And Tucker, if that’s you, I’m not paying for that. You know I’m not. Stop asking. Leave a message after the-”

Danny didn’t wait any longer to hang up. No voicemail would ever be secure enough to risk actually leaving one, and leaving one wouldn’t even speed up the response time.

An especially bright pink and green flash washed over what was probably half the town, and a large crash sounded from several different points in the area.

Now down the phone a friend option, Danny elected to revisit and modify plan A by throwing his leg over the side of the dumpster instead.

You know, the lame way to exit.

None of his bones liked him as he hit the ground, the wind in his metaphorical sails really not keeping up with what he needed to be doing.

Even with the self deprecation heavily suppressed, the situation didn’t really brighten outside of the dumpster. How, precisely, would boxes aide him here? Box Ghost was still pretty peeved over the whole cardboard-boxes-dissolve-in-water solution...

A thoughtless attempt to transition between forms left a suspiciously glass-like popping noise to ring in his ears and leave him fallen face-first onto the ground.

The most intact piece of mirror sat across him, dimly processing as unsafe for workers to be near as the gerbil controlling intelligent thought in his head took a smoke break.

… Seriously, why not have just tossed the thing into the dumpster itself? It’s right there!

The gerbil returned from its smoke break as Danny took in his reflection somewhat, the wheel powering his thoughts creaking back to life.

The crammer had slowly stripped him of every Phantom attribute until only Fenton remained, while right now the present cause to all his woes seemed to have merged his clothes straight down to his hoodie and left every other feature untouched.

It was… weird.

And deeply irrelevant, actually. He needed to either try calling Jazz (ugh) or haul himself home to see if he can’t glue a solution together (different ugh).

Time to shove himself back up to kneeling and pick the gravel out of his teeth (hrng).

While he was at it, it might be a good idea to start a list of cameras that’d need their footage wiped. Even if Fenton’s clothes weren’t incriminating he just didn’t need-

There was an ecto gun by his head, the safety giving a click as it was turned off.

“Would you like to beg?”

He knew that voice- by god did he know that voice. Valerie had to be on that hoverboard just out of his field of view.

He had to have missed some sort of movement while slumped forward by the mirror- it’s not like he wasn’t in enough pain for reality to start blurring.

But that didn’t help, did it? Because he was readily identifiable as Phantom to a girl who wanted half of him dead(er), with zero powers or wit to throw at the situation that wouldn’t just get him shot faster.

But what would help!? She didn’t have any interest in listening to Phantom, barely had any in listening to Fenton, though her lethal intent would at least be lower!

Somehow, someway, the gerbil in his head clipped through the wheel's geometry and resolved to never return.

“Don’t shoot, Val, it’s me! Danny!”

The gun got MUCH louder in response

“Well, Danny Phantom, I think knowing my name-”

“N-No! Fenton!”

He could hear the dial-up noises in Valerie's head, he himself stuck on trying to process how royally he just screwed himself over.

“Let’s suppose, for just one second here, that I don’t believe that.”

“L-look Val, belief doesn’t have much to do with the fact that I’m like, super harmless right now. Literally what would I gain by telling you that?”

He could feel her eyes stare even harder, dissecting his identity in this new light.

“Time.”

Well, he had a good run…

The alleyway promptly exploded, leaving Valerie to skitter off to who knows where as she swore worse than any adult Danny had had the displeasure of listening to.

Danny himself was left hyperventilating in the dust, promptly hopping back into the dumpster and burying himself in the worst effort towards hiding he’s probably ever managed.

“I TOLD YOU IT WOULD BE HIGHLY UNLIKELY FOR HIM TO HAVE HIDDEN HERE.”

“Disappointing, and unexpected. The chase is far more important, but what distracted her?”

“I DO NOT BELIEVE THIS TO MATTER. YOU MAY HAVE SAID PRACTICALLY ON TOP, BUT I THINK AT THIS POINT IN THE ALLEY IT’S SAFE TO SAY HE’S NOT-”

“Move it or lose it, socket-licker. One of our high value targets is running.”

“YOU ARE ONE TO TALK, SHORTSTOCK. INSULTS ASIDE, I WAS GETTING THERE.”

Skulker’s “No, you weren’t. And you’re lucky we’re working together you-” got fainter as the two continued to completely miss his idiot self hidden just under the surface of two tonnes of food slime.

This was now the second time Danny was in the same dumpster, and honestly? He STILL didn’t want to leave!

He couldn’t cave to the desire this time either- trying to out his identity to Valerie in a last ditch effort to save his hide was officially going to go down as one of his dumbest decisions ever.

He couldn’t even think of anything funny his friends would mock him with this time. It was stupid all the way down.

Feet to the ground, eyes peeled for enemies- gone for now.

Time to unbend his pride and beat his mile run record while trying to call Jazz. Hey, multitasking!

He was going to lose his mind over this one. Even without his personal missteps this was bad.

“Hi, this is Jasmine Fenton! Hopefully I can get back to you soon, but for now, please leave a message after the-”

Click.

Two options, he pondered as he did a running slide past the corner grocery store.

One: Jazz was doing tutoring and had her phone off.

Or, possibly, two: Their parents loaded her onto the GAV and didn’t take no for an answer.

He didn’t hear her earlier trying to scream advice in an attempt to circumvent the danger their parents posed to everyone, but was it even a Tuesday for her to be busy with tutoring? Or maybe she does tutoring on Thursdays…

None of it mattered obviously. He had to get to Fenton Works ASAP.

There wasn’t strictly much that could help him, but he couldn’t imagine anything going even more wrong by using the splitter to try and get some part of him functioning again.

At worst, he’d have two people to drive the Speeder so he/they could gun it to Frostbite and see what could medically be done.

This totally didn’t gloss over every logistic and science issue ever, no sir!

And even if it did, what kind of options was he supposed to come up with right now!?

One more cut through an alleyway and Danny was in the home stretch towards Fenton works.

This moment was of course the same one a massive crash and crunch of metal sounded off a block away. Maximum.

Before he’d had the saving grace of a hiding spot. Now? Not so much! All it’d take was for Skulker or Technus to remember that they could fly above buildings and-

Well there went his survival odds!

The second after, Valerie flew above their heads, shooting down at them even as they launched onto his street.

And, for as distracting as she was, he couldn’t say his odds just got any higher.

Danny nearly took the door off its hinges trying to get in faster than anything could shoot at him, barely in before the street was awash in pink and green.

Just because he knew he couldn’t get blamed for this (mostly) didn’t mean the sense that he was so dead over this stopped creeping in.

“I, TECHNUS, WOULD LIKE TO REMIND YOU THAT-” Technus screamed, caving the door in with a broken lamppost, Technus himself soon followed suit, seeming to have shed most of his mecha well before the door- though he was losing more in an effort to get in with ease.

“If this is about the extended car warranty-!” Danny shouted back, trying to bolt for the basement. Or literally any of the house defense buttons- screw that they’d target him too!

“I WOULD NEVER SINK TO SUCH LEVELS, PEST!” Technus cut him off, the severed mecha parts bursting into and spreading wires and metal throughout the house in seconds.

Skulker didn’t waste time squeezing through besides Technus, grinning even as he was focused solely on the street outside.

“The basement.” Was all Skulker said before the option was gone from him, tangled in too much metal and wire to ever think about it again.

Danny wasn’t going to get time to think about this one, bolting upstairs instead as the door frame exploded into pink.

“All of you-”

Valerie interrupted herself with a gunshot to Technus.

“, rat bastards! No respect for-”

Skulker, now.

“anyone or anything! This is a house!”

Danny, now. He could feel it burn through both his shirt and suit even as he passed the last few steps to the second story.

Thank god for adrenaline.

Dashing down the hall as Technus and Skulker both roared into action, he performed the best running leap he’d ever managed to grab and pull the chain for the ladder.

Of course, having leapt for this privilege in a house meant for his dad meant he kept sailing through the air as the ladder slammed down behind him.

That was fine! Valerie was still distracted, just roll and climb! So easy.

So easy to corner himself on a roof with no options except to jump if he wanted off.

The fight continued on beneath him as he stared over the side, his world totally silent otherwise.

Grasping for inane details in the hopes one would matter, he saw nothing of use.

The day was bright, and clear. The town was quiet. If he turned slightly, he could pretend the wake of destruction didn’t exist.

But then he’d be ignoring the wires spilling out his front door, a shell of a car deposited in the center of the street- seeming to host most of the mess as a battery.

Valerie swore worse than ever below.

Nothing could help him right now. He was stuck either standing or jumping.

Or well, maybe he could at least do something about the gaping wound in his side… that might be good.

Slowly and carefully he stripped his hoodie off, noting that the hole was smaller than he’d been mentally giving it credit for.

His side still dripping as he dropped it unceremoniously, he realized that this was a dumb plan and that he couldn’t do anything anyways.

His side wasn’t a spot he could tourniquet. Pressure only helped so much in ghost form, as even with bones he was notably more squishy(?) than a normal human.

The fighting paused for one brief moment, before getting ten times worse, Valerie inadvertently teaching him new slurs for ghosts.

Danny looked over the edge of the building again, reaching for his pocket with a prayer.

…

“Hi, this is Jas-”

Click.

…

“Hi! If you don’t know-”

Click.

…

…

“You have reached this 🌟Too Fine🌟 of a voice mail-”

One last click off, phone thusly tucked back into his pocket.

Danny stood alone over what was closer to a three story drop than a two story drop (stupid vaulted ceilings…), and quietly sat on the edge as the fight below went silent and stayed silent.

Hand to his side regardless of if it’d help, he watched the car-battery-wire mess power down and simply waited.

Sure, he could jump, but the adrenaline was winding back down. He was already hurt, bad, in multiple ways. Valerie could fly and right now he couldn’t. There was nowhere on the street to hide and even if there was plenty of places the street over he wouldn’t get that far.

He was dead meat any way he went.

He could hear the ladder clack behind him as Valerie hauled herself up.

“What a surprise! All nice and ready for me.” Valerie huffed, immediately standing at the ready with a gun. Danny only just copped a glance before turning back towards the view.

Odd, no suit nor hoverboard. Maybe Technus had managed to hit her just right and made it shut off.

“Yeah. They go through the portal at least?” He asked, barely looking back as he gripped his side a little tighter.

“And here I- what? Um. Yeah, to my knowledge.” Valerie stuttered slightly, the earnestness of his question seeming to trip her worse than Danny’s previous bomb drop.

“Good. Lock the portal when you go back down. My parents will probably open it up by next week, but hey! Stops everything for now.”

Her steps towards him slowed to a crawl, and he could sense the caution and the suspicion even as she continued regardless.

God, he was really doing this. It occurred that he could still just shove himself off the edge, but he couldn’t think of anything that could possibly solve. Guns can be pointed over roof edges.

“Uh. Thank. You? B-But no uh, tricks or-”

She stopped by his side, gun still pointed as her eyes tracked across the roof for the surprise that simply must be coming.

“Valerie, I’m really sorry you think I could ever hurt you, but I’m out. Injured and done. It’s you or it’s splatting on the pavement. Dunno how much bounce back I’ve got left right now.”

“Any last… uhm-”

This is a super stupid way to die. But he’s pretty sure he’ll be a grease stain if he jumps, which is even stupider.

“I guess... Tell Sam, Tucker, and Jazz not to beat themselves up over it.” He hummed, finally looking at Valerie again.

He wondered how much of this mess the town behind him was seeing.

The gun shook silently before lowering and turning away.

“You are him, aren’t you?” Valerie asked softly, gun already dropping from her hands.

The gun dropped with an uncomfortable clatter as Danny gave the least shaky and uncomfortable smile he could manage, Valerie's eyes not even seeing him as she fixated on his stained hoodie.

“Phantom was never this sweet.”

Valerie clearly hadn’t focused on the words, so lasered onto her revelation that Danny’s brief twitch was entirely missed.

He couldn’t even be insulted right now; there was a certain amount of venom their fights had always had.

Silence extended further as Valerie only barely looked back up at him, still shaken.

“Thanks, I think. But uh. What now?” Danny asked, genuinely not sure. He just had to accept that insults to his other half could be addressed later.

How a reveal would go had always haunted him slightly, and this was probably a better ending than most of the realistic ones.

But even then, those fantasies always ended when she understood.

Valerie snapped to at the question, standing straight and returning to her facade of confidence.

“Helping. How’d they even do this to you?”

“Technus made Skulker a new gun, I think. It goes downhill from there.”

Carefully, Danny slid himself back onto the roof. He was struck with the sense that sudden moves would still get him killed, somehow. This was.. Too easy, almost.

Anxiety or not, the pain was also holding him back.

“Figures that those assholes would do this. Don’t suppose there’s an obvious way to fix this?”

“Not really? I mean… there might be something in the basement to help, but outside of that it’s not like I’ve got options beyond to sit here and suffer. Maybe see if Frostbite knows anything.”

“The basement, huh… Oh, thaaat’s why Skulker growled something out about it. Maybe we can-”

The GAV started wailing again, suddenly.

The offending vehicle was only streets away, and if he focused hard enough he could almost hear his dad yelling about having fixed something or other.

Farewell pain, hello adrenaline!

He was going to be so sick after today. He could just feel it.

“Bail!” He shouted, running back towards the ladder.

“What!?”

“Do you trust my parents not to shoot on sight!?”

The look of fear was immediate.

“Oh, god! Bail!”

In total agreement it was borderline a fight for the ladder and to get down to the first floor.

The wires hadn’t disappeared, leaving them precariously stood on the mess next to the kitchen.

“What’s your plan, Danny?! It’s their house!” Valerie hissed, eyeing him and the wires cautiously.

“WINDOWS ARE ALWAYS FAIR GAME!” He screeched, launching into the kitchen.

The voice of doubt in his head pointed out that it was incredibly lame for all his best executed moves for today to be so fundamentally stupid in nature.

Regardless, lifting the stand mixer and tossing it through the back window in one single uninterrupted motion, punctuated by the shattering of glass, was probably the smoothest thing he’d do today.

“YOU COULD HAVE OPENED THE WINDOW-”

“NO WE COULDN’T HAVE!” Danny yelled back, already launching himself through the opening regardless of potential cuts.

“WHAT?” Valerie screeched back, lingering before following suit.

“The Fenton Family Home Defense System locks the windows upon activation, with or without shutter activation! Even when it turns back off they’re stuck until you do a manual unlock!”

He was already bounding through the backyard, sailing himself over the fence without a second thought.

“Danny, in what world does that make sense!?”

Valerie was close behind.

“The one where my parents designed it! And the one where you’d then be stuck in a house with more weapons than people!”

“Danny, your parents are still nuts for locking-!”

“Losing battle! Pick and choose! Keep running!”

Valerie’s laugh was clear, like bells as they continued across town.

The stress was obviously getting to her- yet it was almost infectious. This was insane!

Eventually, well after they’d gone from a residential area back to business, he was yanked into a new back alley, Valerie still grinning as she caught her breath.

“And what about the door?”

“Also locked.”

She missed a beat before speaking again.

“So, what, not even the doors work until you do a system reset? That’s stupid.”

Danny had to laugh at himself right now.

“No, I just don’t remember the passcode! That door is pretty normal.”

“But you can’t leave without a code from the inside?”

“Normal for my house!” He giggled.

They were left with wheezing laughter over a near miss that wasn’t that funny to begin with.

Eventually Valerie’s hand left his shirt collar, moving to push him back slightly. Intimacy time over.

“Okay, Danny. Your parents are nuts and we don’t trust them not to shoot. Where are we going?”

“Well I could always hide in a dumpster again, but outside of that I don’t have any ideas. Sam’s busy and Jazz… well, is it Tuesday or is it Thursday, actually?”

Valerie gave him the blankest look imaginable for his question.

“It’s Saturday.”

… Well then!

“Okay, well, Jazz is tutoring. Probably. So she’s busy.”

“And Tucker, since you seem to trust your friends with this one?”

... What?

“Uh. At a tech camp somewhere in-”

“Got it. The basement might help, you said?”

Right, back to topic.

“I cannot stress that ‘might’ part enough. We’ve got a lot of weird stuff down there that’s come in handy in really stupid ways before.”

“Okay, well, that’s not great. You got an idea on how to get your parents out of the house?”

“Not in the slightest.” He admitted, shrugging as he spoke.

“Superb. Just fantastic. Okay, maybe we could camp at my place for an hour? At least until... or. Hm.”

Valerie finally lost her focus on him, looking to the side in thought.

Danny had to give credit where it was due that they were screwed in a different way, now.

Valerie’s fast turn saved his hide so he was certainly much farther than he thought he’d get, but there wasn’t much they could throw at his parents to make them disengage with the mess of wires Technus left behind. It was now valuable research material, at best.

Delightful.

“My place is probably for the best. Christ, that’s a distance to go.” Valerie muttered.

“Not to interrupt, but yeah actually. How are we getting there? Is your suit broken, or…?”

“Broken is a strong word. It self repairs, but yes, I’m grounded right now. And though I care about you, the huntress getting seen towing Phantom would not be good.”

There it was again, slighter than before but still present. The slight dissonance in how the situation was getting viewed.

Easy to shrug and move on though, right?

He probably shouldn’t.

“So… not to-”

“Look, we need to start moving. You’ve got a hat or something?”

“Man, I wish.”

“Okay, okay… shitty question, but Phantom can fly. Obviously. What can you do right now…?”

Uh.

“Uh. Nothing? Look, the blast- I think… Sorry, but what do you think happened? I just-”

Valerie’s eyes narrowed a touch in preemptive insult.

“Calling my explanation the abridged version gives it too much credit! I just want to make sure you understand what happened, and what you’re asking??”

Best cover he could’ve used, honestly.

Valerie cringed in on herself, obviously realizing something.

“Uhm, sorry, I didn’t mean to… Look, sorry. I know being in his body is probably really weird? But my place is over in Elmerton, and it’d be really helpful if one of us could… I’m sorry.”

She’d dodged the real question, but still managed to give the answer Danny needed.

In… this body…?

Oh. Oh boy.

[chrissbluehat]

Nervous

part 1

Pairing : y/n and Chris Sturniolo 

Summary: you lived a pretty standard life, you kept to yourself mostly, and never felt you drew the eyes of anyone. Though this always felt conflicting when comparing yourself to friends. This was until a boy came into your life and flipped it completely around.

Sorry I kept forgetting to post this, hope you enjoy

Warnings : none

I have the window down, the evening breeze running through my hair. Jenna is driving me back to my house. As we travel all I can think about is the interaction I had with Chris earlier. The whole thing felt like a fever dream, it all felt a little too pleasant as if I was thrown straight into a book with no warning and the chapter was re-enacted around me. I didn’t understand why he would have gone out of his way to talk to a girl he didn’t know before then, maybe his drink got to him and he was simply bored. The thought of him felt suffocating, my thoughts were then broken by Jenna catching my attention. “Are you good? The way you���re staring is starting to creep me out a bit”, I can hear her laugh a bit, and I give her a half smile.

“Yeah I'm okay”, Jenna nodded at my response and looked back at the road. I contemplated telling her about my conversation with Chris but I didn’t want to make it into a bigger thing than it was, I mean it was just one conversation. I wasn’t hiding it, it simply just was not that big of a deal, I thought to reassure myself. 

She drops me home and I head straight up to my room, quietly, since it was late and I knew everyone would have been asleep. I slump onto my bed, thoughts all still on one person. Is this what it feels like to like someone? This feels like a form of torture, I needed a break but I couldn’t get one. My mind was not free of that brunette and I honestly wasn't sure it would ever be. I change quickly and get into bed, thoughts still captured.

The rest of the weekend wasn’t much different. I saw him in everything I did, it was starting to become exhausting. The worst part was that he probably hadn’t given a second thought since departing from that bench and that hurt more. I mean there was no real reason for him to remember that, it probably wasn’t even significant to him remotely. My days ended the same, with him plastered around my mind similar to the way girls had posters of their celebrity crushes around their room, when thinking about it that way it became slightly comforting.

On Monday, I got up slightly earlier. Usually I stayed in bed until my mum came in and yelled that i’m going to be late. I started getting ready straight away. Shower and then skin care that I kind of just had for the aesthetic. I then put on more make-up than I usually would, it wasn’t heaps, just mascara and a tinted lip gloss rather than my usual bare face that I was too lazy to cover up. I found an outfit that was reasonable, a simple brandy graphic tee and jeans and I went down for breakfast, my mom gave me a weird look. She usually would if I changed anything about my appearance, but I ignored her and had my breakfast and started walking to school. 

Once in homeroom, I took my seat. Fortunately they were assigned which removed the anxiety of having to make sure no one has taken your unassigned seat each day. A couple minutes later my friend Maisie came in, she sat just in front of me so I had someone to talk to through that period. As we were talking a bunch of guys arrived late making an unnecessary amount of noise, I looked up to see who it was and then I spotted him, the guy that had consumed my thoughts all weekend. How I even let him slip my mind was beyond me. I looked over at him, but he didn’t even glance in my direction, I could tell that his eyes didn’t even search for mine. He headed over to his seat before the teacher came up to him and one of his other friends and made them hand out something with each of our names on it as some kind of punishment for arriving late rather than just giving them the usual detention, I guess she was tired of signing for them. They made their way around the classroom and Chris then walked towards me.

“Are you Y/N?” I nodded my head and took the paper, in the moment I felt crushed. He didn’t even remember my name. I wanted to crawl into a ball and hide from everyone but I knew I couldn't do that, so I acted as natural as I could and pretended that that comment didn’t bother me in any way. I thought about that moment for the rest of the day, it distracted me all day and I paid no attention to anything else. I practically ran home so that I could finally wrap myself in my bed and sob over a boy that I barely knew. My feelings about him confused me. I was confused as to why I was so sure I would be significant for him to remember, I'd built up a big moment for no reason and I felt utterly pathetic for it. 

He continued consuming my thoughts but not in the way I had previously enjoyed when he appeared in my mind. The cold memory was on replay as if on a bad vhs tape, I couldn’t escape it. Every time I saw him all I could hear was his voice asking for my name. I tried to replace it with the memory from the party but that file was damaged and wouldn’t fill in the void the way it once did.

After the first week I had nearly given up hope, that was until I caught him glancing at me. I caught his eyes and he quickly turned back around. I put my head down smiling to myself. After that we communicated in looks and quick glances from across the room and in between classes in the hall. It started off once or twice a day and began to grow more frequently. We were both conscious to do it when our friends weren’t looking and their attention wasn’t on us. When I thought of him I now saw flashes of his pretty blue eyes and the way his hair gently draped over them, this slowly started to eat away at the negative memory and replaced it, the thought of him no longer hurt. 

After the first glance I'd become a little bit invested in him, to the point where I found myself searching for him anywhere. This search started off at the sports games that I was forced to go to, though the thrill of him maybe being that washed out the annoyance. Though after a couple games I discovered that he’d never go, which I thought was off considering his friends were all there. There was one time that I thought he’d come for once only to realise that it was someone that looked exactly like him, I then discovered there was another. I’m honestly shocked that I never realised that there were triplets here, luckily they each have pretty different hair so I now know how to tell when it’s Chris and when it’s not conveniently. I searched for him online. In the weeks that we started noticing each other, I became tempted to just message him, I had found him online after stalking through his friends' accounts. 

It wasn't too difficult to find, he used to post a lot but I'd noticed he hadn’t updated it in a couple months, I also noticed that he posted with his brothers a lot, it was easier to tell them apart when they were next to each other, which was helpful. After looking for a way to message him I ended up coming to the conclusion that it was better to not interact with him there, just so I didn’t come off as overbearing too early on. I’d wait for him to give me a signal first. I then searched for him in conversations. In homeroom one day I overheard his name being mentioned by Maisie and some girl that I wasn't really familiar with. I knew she was linked to Chris's friends though. I heard her refer to him as weird and kind of peculiar. 

“Yeah since he quit lacrosse he’s been a bit off, like he was a bit much before but now I forget he’s even there”,

“Literally, and when you do realise he’s just acting all moody and miserable, like why drag yourself somewhere if you’re going to ruin it for everyone else”, Maisie scoffed. I furrowed my eyebrows at her words. I wasn’t sure why I felt so offended for him. I mean I didn’t know him, we were barely even friends. My eyes slowly wandered over to him, and I realised he already had his eyes on me, making me smile a bit. I often wondered how long these glances would last before he either lost interest or spoke to me again, little did I know one of those options would happen a little faster than I thought.

[ariundercovers]

Palladium (Prologue)

Title: Palladium (Prologue)

Co-written with @ezras--moon

Pairing: Pilot!Frankie “Catfish” Morales x F!Reader

Word Count: 3,828

Warnings: None for now

Chapter (Prologue) Summary:

After his time in the army, Frankie gets a new job as a med-evac helicopter pilot. Reader, a paramedic who has been working on the chopper for quite some time, is unsure of her new coworker and has some serious doubts about their compatibility. 

Authors’ Notes: Slow burn with lots of smut. Multi-chapter fic in progress. F!Reader, referred to by a nickname in later chapters. No use of y/n. 

This fic is co-written by @ezras--moon and @ariundercovers. Please follow both of us for updates! We will be going back and forth to post each chapter, but catch a masterlist pinned to each of our blogs.

Day 1 - Monday, September 4th

The early morning light bathes the bedroom in an orange glow and the warmth of the sunlight hitting your face tickles you awake before your alarm can. You lay there silently for a long while, letting your brain slowly catch up with your body until it’s no longer comfortable and a groan slips out, slowly rolling over to your side to stretch your limbs. Eyes finally blinking the sleep away as you rise, the alarm goes off right as you sit up and put your feet down on the floor.

 A quick shower wakes you up, and a steaming cup of french press coffee immediately afterward motivates you to get ready for the long day ahead of you. You hastily grab a cream cheese bagel along with another cup of coffee to go as you head out for the base, morning news on the radio barely registering in the back of your mind as you pull into your designated parking space.

 Briskly walking to the locker room, you frown when you find it empty and remember what day it is. 

Phoebe’s gone.

The pilot you’ve been partnered with for years, your closest friend and confidant - you can’t blame her for leaving, as much as you’d like to be angry. Her promotion, which comes with a really nice pay raise, meant a transfer to a new base, away from you. 

“Well, fuck,” you mutter under your breath, frustrated with the change. You steady yourself, take a deep breath and a sip of your second coffee, before you slip into the rest of your gear, bright yellow warning vest last. Heading down the hall to the office, you clock in, hoping to see if you can find Benny or catch a glimpse of the new pilot. As far as you can tell, neither of them are anywhere to be seen - not that you would even know what the new pilot looks like. So, you go check in with your boss, Chief Lewis, who is in his office as usual, mustering up an enthusiastic greeting.

 “Morning.” He greets you with a smile and immediately hands you a stack of paperwork. “I need you to meet your new pilot out back, fill this out over the course of your shift today, and then hand it back in tonight before you leave.” You raise your brows and look at the pages stapled together at the upper left corner. Glancing down at the header, you realize that it’s an evaluation, and he wants you to report back about any issues with communication and cooperation between your team and the new member.

“This is just the initial review, you’ll do a few more later on. One next week and the other in six. Alright?” he folds his hands under his chin and looks up at you expectantly. 

You nod, still reading the questions on the paper in your hand, “Alright.” 

You’re caught off guard when he continues. “And, if there’s nothing urgent coming in soon, you’ll be doing a test flight or two to get the crew acquainted with one another. So, go grab Miller and get started on that first.” The disapproval seems to be evident on your face, as he’s now the one to raise his brows. “Please, don’t scare off the new guy with that frown on his first day, now.” There’s a lighthearted chuckle to his tone, but the words he chooses don’t slip past you, either. 

New guy. 

You’re the only woman left on your little team of three. Chief Lewis ushers you out of his office then, and you let out a frustrated sigh in the hallway as you make your way to the heliport to find Benny.

 When you come to find out neither of them are dressed for work yet and are, instead, engaged in some kind of animated discussion while just standing around next to the helicopter, you’re fuming. This means that, most likely, you’re going to be the one carrying the equipment out and loading it into the chopper while they catch up on getting ready, which they should have done at least ten minutes ago.

 Benny spots you stomping towards them and you catch him nudging the new pilot who’s just out of view behind him from where you’re approaching. The stranger is sporting a gentle smile and waves shyly at you as he sidesteps Benny, emerging from behind your trusted nurse.

 Your breath hitches in your throat just for a split second when you see him fully. His face, his imposing build, the messy mop of dark hair that he quickly hides beneath a baseball cap…

He’s handsome. You can feel your eyes start to widen for a split second before you reel yourself back in. 

The moment passes quickly, however, almost instantaneously replaced once again by the annoyment from before as you set down the two heavy bags of medical supplies you’re carrying. 

“Why aren’t the two of you dressed yet?” you almost bark, Chief Lewis’s request not to scare off the new guy going straight out the window. 

Benny raises his hands in mock surrender and rolls his eyes. “Well, good fucking morning to you too.” The new pilot’s smile drops into a neutral expression and it occurs to you briefly that you’re being rude. 

You sigh and ease up a little bit, but your brows remain furrowed as you step closer. “Morning, Benny.”

 The new, aggravatingly attractive guy introduces himself as Francisco, ‘but you can call me Frankie’,shaking your hand firmly and confidently. The sheer size of his palm compared to yours makes you swallow dryly, adding to the list of annoyances  you’ve already racked up today. 

“Please, go get dressed. And hurry. I’ll get started on loading up.” The two men disappear out of sight and you get to work.

 At least they don't take long and have the courtesy to bring the rest of the equipment on their way back out. And then it's not much longer until you’re finally seated with your headset on, buckled in, and Frankie’s communication with air traffic control layers staticky over the vibrating thrum of the chopper starting up.

 It’s deeply annoying that even his voice is nice to listen to, but you know that’s not the source of your frustration... It’s the fact that he’s replacing your friend - your best friend. 

It’s that you’re outnumbered by men, and it’s especially that they’ve already known each other forever. Benny told you as much while you were strapping everything in and sanitizing surfaces before take-off - apparently he had put a good word in for Frankie to be hired.

 There’s an easy banter between the two of them over comms, in which you decidedly don’t partake; it feels like you’re the third wheel, intruding. You feel out of place with them, on this helicopter, on this job. You’ve never felt like this at work before, not even on your own first day when you met Phoebe. She made you feel included and comfortable from the moment you shook hands, and you immediately worked together as a cohesive unit. 

 You’re in the middle of an inner monologue about the situation, talking yourself deeper into the frustration, when Benny addresses you. You’re settled in the air, finally at altitude as Frankie smoothly tilts the helicopter along a predetermined route given to him by air traffic control.

“What’s that you got there?” he asks, pointing at the slightly crumpled evaluation form you’re clutching in your hands. He’s aggressively chewing gum and bouncing his leg, it makes your facial muscles finally relax into somewhat of an easier expression. At least it’s still the same Benny you’re working with. You hand him the sheet and he skims it, then gives it back with a grin, but doesn’t say anything. 

 “Are you okay back there?” Frankie asks when there’s no verbal reply to Benny’s question, glancing back over his shoulder. 

“Yes, don’t worry about it. Focus on getting us back down in one piece,” you respond. It comes out a little harsh, but you don’t pay it any mind.

Frankie shakes his head and turns back to the windshield, flying them smoothly and competently along the route. The longer you’re in the air, the more frustrated you feel, finding nothing about his demeanor or his flying that you could legitimately be disappointed with. Nothing to write down as a negative on his evaluation form.

Turns out, he’s infuriatingly and devastatingly competent.

You can feel your own leg start to shake back and forth a bit, the inner boiling beginning to affect you a bit more outwardly. Frankie’s voice sounds over the comms as you all arrive at your given location - just a mile or so out from the hospital.

“Turning around, and heading back to base, now.” The smoothness of his voice catches you off-guard every time. It’s like an expensive liquor in your ears, even through the static of the comms and the deafening loudness that is the inside of a helicopter. You close your eyes and sigh heavily, shaking it off. It feels impossible, but you just have to get through today. You could go home tonight and pour yourself a big glass of wine over it, but you have to figure out a way to not let this affect you. So, you shift in your seat, looking out over the city in front of you, and you count your breaths a few times, trying to regulate yourself. It helps, at least a little, and you sit back in your seat with a small sigh. 

Frankie has the helicopter back in no time. He’s landing at base, again without a hitch, and you unbuckle yourself so that you can shuffle out of the chopper and back into base as quickly as possible. 

You hole yourself up in the dorm for as long as you can, figuring some distance might help you shake the ugly feeling in your chest. Trying to focus on a new book Phoebe gifted you as a going away present, you’re laying back in your cot as you flip through the first pages. 

An alarm blares over the intercom. They’re sending you out on your first call with the new pilot. A glance at your watch tells you you've lost track of time a little bit, it's almost noon already. You groan but immediately get to it, tossing the book onto your bed and grabbing your bag before jogging out to the helipad. Frankie is already there, climbing in, and you meet him inside just as Benny arrives as well. Everyone’s headsets are on in barely a moment as the chopper starts. Frankie turns and offers a nod to each of you - which you reluctantly reciprocate - before he takes off in the direction of the accident.

It’s a short trip - only a few minutes, really - and you land on a closed-off highway that’s got a three-car pileup blocking all lanes of traffic. There must be hundreds of cars unable to pass and waiting on tow trucks, police and your own team to clear their path. Ground EMS is there, too - you can see the lights from where you are, and you jump out of the helicopter, booking it toward them as Benny pulls out the stretcher to meet you there. The firefighters have already pulled your patient from the car, laid out on one of their stretchers with a very visible head injury. You crouch down, telling them your name and a few gentle pleasantries. You’re not sure they can even hear you, but you do it for all of your patients, no matter how bad of a shape they’re in.

“We’ve got you, now. Don’t worry - my team’s gonna get you to the hospital in no time at all, we’re gonna take good care of you.” One of your fellow paramedics on the ground gives you the low-down on the patient, explaining their injuries, position in the crash, and how the firefighters pulled them out. You nod, taking note of everything as you scan the patient yourself for visual confirmation. Asking a few follow-up questions, you nod to them and offer a polite ‘thank you’ as they stand and step to the side. 

Benny jumps in then, offering you a smile before locking eyes with you. On the count of three, you lift the patient over to your stretcher. Two of the firefighters jump in toward the foot of the stretcher, grabbing the backboard along with you and Benny, and the four of you move quickly over to the helicopter as you load the patient into the cabin. 

Frankie glances back at you, watching to make sure everything goes according to protocol. You and Benny finish buckling the patient down, and then sit in your seats, turned toward them as Benny continually takes vitals and you apply pressure to a deep wound on their shoulder. After one last cabin check, Frankie takes off, en route to the second closest hospital, given it has the resources to tend to your patient properly. 

“Three minutes to General.” He calls back to you, and Benny nods with a ‘roger’ in response. Those three minutes are always both the longest and the shortest all at once - Benny and you working seamlessly to tend to the patient with all of your supplies and training available to you. You’re watching them inevitably deteriorate at once, so you’re grateful when you can finally feel the descent down to the helipad. 

Doctors and nurses are waiting on the pad with a stretcher already, making the transition an easy one as you slide the patient off of the backboard. They run off then, Benny in tow, and you lag behind at the helicopter as the blades above you slowly whirr to a halt. Frankie climbs out as they stop, walking over to stand next to you. 

“Everything go alright?” He asks.

You sigh, the adrenaline of the call slowly starting to wear off. “Yeah. As alright as it could have.” You’re not sure what else to say, so you stand there awkwardly, thoughts bouncing around in your skull for a long while. “I’ve gotta do some paperwork.” 

You walk off, moving back into the cabin of the helicopter to grab the papers Chief Lewis handed you this morning. Setting them up on a clipboard, you settle into your seat and cross your legs, propping it up. It’s not actually that much paperwork, really, but it’s enough to make your head swim. This is, and will always be, your least favorite part of your job.

You fill out the pages on auto-pilot, jotting down route numbers, ID badge information, and generally recalling the course of the day so far. It startles you, then, when you hear the pilot’s door open up. Frankie steps in and takes a seat, swiveling his legs around to face you. He ticks his chin up at you and says, “Hey.”

You lift your eyes to him only briefly, not looking away from the page for more than a second, and raise one eyebrow at him in confusion. “What do you need, Morales?” He blinks back at you a few times and shakes his head.

“Nothing, just… wanted to say hi, I guess. We didn’t really get much of an introduction earlier.” You raise your chin to meet his gaze, settling against the back of your seat as you regard him.

“Well, hello. Consider us introduced.” You sigh, getting back to work on the papers and doing your best to ignore him further. - - -

The look on your face confuses Frankie to no end. He feels like maybe he did something wrong, said something wrong, perhaps? Made a wrong call during their test flight? It has to be something horrible to make you dislike him so blatantly, but you’ve only been working together for a few hours or so at this point. 

He’s been replaying the day in his mind over and over again, searching for the moment where he slipped up, that moment when everything went wrong, but no matter what he does, he can’t find it, can’t quite figure out why you’ve grown to detest him so much already. He shifts in his seat, staring blankly out through the windshield as he waits for Benny to get back. It’s another internal battle to figure out if it’s worth it to keep trying, or if he should just give up and let you sulk. Maybe it had nothing to do with him, after all. 

But, he’d never know if he didn’t try.

Sighing, he turns back around again and gives you a once over before speaking up once more. “Hey, uh… I feel like maybe we got off on the wrong foot or somethin’. Can we try this again? Tomorrow, maybe.” You huff, but acquiesce, looking up at him with a scowl on your face.

“Sure, fine. Whatever you want, Morales.” You look back down at the papers in your hands as Frankie brightens just a little bit, feeling better at the chance for a fresh start, even if you’re less than enthused about it. He sighs, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in, and turns back to the windshield, eyes trained to the hospital doors that Benny would hopefully be walking back out of soon.

It’s a few more minutes only and he’s doing exactly that, climbing up into the cabin of the helicopter with one of his bright signature smiles that makes Frankie shake his head. They head back to base in silence, unloading themselves and their equipment to clean and sanitize. They restock their bags, reload the chopper, and then they’re left to their own devices again. 

Amazingly, they don't get another call for the rest of their day. Frankie stays largely in the day room with Benny, and he doesn’t see you for the rest of the shift, or even when he goes to leave. Benny walks up to him as he’s slinging his backpack over his shoulder and they walk out of the base together.

“Hey, Fish. Decent first day, I hope?” Frankie sighs, pulling off his hat so he can run his fingers through his hair, putting it right back atop his thick dark curls.

“Decent enough, I guess.” Offering a nervous chuckle, he shifts his backpack on his shoulders as they start to head out. “Very different from flying in the army, that’s for sure.”

Benny smiles back at him. “It’ll take some time to get used to, but you’re a natural. Knew you would be, man.” Frankie nods, appreciative of the compliment, and they continue to walk in silence for a few more steps before he perks up with a question of his own.

“Hey, Benny, can I ask you somethin’?” Benny turns, regarding him as the cadence to their steps slows.

“Sure, man. Whatever you need.” They pause in front of Frankie’s beaten up truck, turning to face one another. Frankie’s head ticks toward the base.

“Is she always… like that? Feel like I did somethin' wrong… real wrong, if I’m being honest. Is she cold like that with everyone? Or is it just me?” Benny lets out a hearty laugh and claps Frankie on the shoulder, squeezing him reassuringly.

“Just give her some time. I think she’ll warm up to you pretty quickly. You’re a good guy, Frankie, so just keep being you. She’ll get there, I promise.” Frankie nods in understanding, accepting Benny’s words with a frustrated huff.

“Alright, If you say so.” They offer each other a curt nod and head in their own directions, Frankie ducking into his car and taking a moment to settle himself before driving off in the direction of his apartment.

~ ~ ~

It takes Phoebe a while to pick up when you call her that night, leaning over your kitchen counter and fidgeting with the handle of your spatula. You almost give up when the line finally connects and you hear her voice at the other end. She’s just slightly out of breath, making you think she must have rushed to find her phone at the other end of her apartment.

“Hellooo,” she sings as a greeting and you hear her sit down in her creaky porch chair, front door falling shut in the background. You sigh before you say anything, but then muster a squeaky “Hey.”

It must be so obvious, the exasperation in your voice, because she makes a sympathetic sound before she asks you what’s wrong.

“Oh no, honey, rough day? What happened?”

You sigh into the phone and plop yourself down in your kitchen chair after flipping your food in the pan. “It’s just… the new pilot. He’s a man so I’m left now as the only woman on the crew. And, even better, he and Benny have been super close for years already, and it was him who recommended him for the job. I’m like the third wheel. It’s horrible!” You can hear a breathy laugh on the other side that she tries to cover up, unsuccessfully. “Oh come on, Phoebs… You’re living your best life in your new cushy job and I’m stuck with these two big burly boys. By myself. You’ve abandoned me!” You’re joking mostly, at this point, but the feelings inside are still real, even if you’re covering them up with a bit of laughter.

“I know. A new start like this is tough. But give the guy a chance. If he’s friends with our Benny, he’s gotta be a good one, right? He deserves a fair shot. Give it a couple of days, and see how you’re feeling about it then. It’s too raw right now to be able to make any real sense of it, anyway.” She pauses for a moment and you take a deep breath, standing up to check on your food.

“I’m sorry, sweetie. I know I didn’t give you much time to prepare for it, either. It’s hard, no matter how you swing it.” You nod your head, even though she can’t see you, and look out into the distance of your living room.

“It is. But you’re right, too. I can give him a couple days, that’s only fair.” You sigh, frustrated to know that she’s right, but always grateful for her advice, anyway.

“Exactly. If it was you in his position, you’d only want the same, wouldn’t you?” 

You huff, her wisdom starting to whittle away at your misplaced rage. “Yeah yeah, voice of reason. I know. I’ll give him a chance.”

She chuckles on the other side of the line. “Now that’s my girl! I’d bet he makes out to be pretty decent, after all. Benny wouldn’t stick his neck out like this for just anyone, and you know that.”

You nod in agreement even though she can’t see you. “Definitely not.”

“So just keep your head up and ride it out. You’ll know soon enough.”

[eclairfromleclerc]

Hello everyone. It’s been a long long time since I posted here but I guess life has caught up. I have been writing this chapter for god knows how long because I just couldn’t bring myself to write certain scenes. I still have so many ideas and directions about where this fic can go but as you understand, I need my time to actually try and write those ideas. I am now giving you the 8th chapter of this story which is a generous 14.6 K words to make up for my long long absence. I really hope there will be people still interested to read this. Always keep in mind that english isn’t my native language so pardon any mistakes or inclarities. I hope you will enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Wait patiently for the next part. Take Care, xx.

All’s Fair

(Toto Wolff x Reader) Chapter 8

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4 chapter 5 chapter 6 chapter 7

Landing in Jeddah feeling like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders, after closing the deal with the Bahraini investors from your Monday meeting, is the only thing you could have asked for. Nothing has been bothering you for the past few days but the fact that Christian still hasn't said anything about you being late to your meeting, made you feel a little weird. Your little text exchanges with Toto made up for the whole madness.

As soon as your phone connects to the network you see a new notification popping up.

Christian Dad Horner 

No need to come over today, I got everything scheduled for the press, me and Helmut will handle it

Get some rest.

You raise your eyebrow reading , not knowing what your father is up to. Is he drunk? Is he out of his mind? You lock your phone and get off the plane. You check in your hotel, go to your room and settle in. As you take your clothes off your suitcase you find once again Toto’s Mercedes shirt in it and you take it out and put it on a hanger and in your closet. Thursdays are supposed to be a fun day in the paddock because of all the media and generally relaxed vibe that everyone has. The fact that no sessions take place on Thursdays doesn’t mean everyone isn’t working hard but still Christian thought your presence was not necessary, so here you are. Your phone rings with a new notification

Wolff

What’s your schedule for the press today?

You 

Christian told me he and Helmut will handle it, I won’t be joining today

I am just bored, sitting in my hotel room 

You open the camera on the app and snap a picture of your computer on your bed and some snacks nearby and you hit send

Wolff 

So you get to relax.

Enjoy it for all of us who have to work

You 

Will do :)

You spend the rest of your day in your room and meet Max to grab dinner at the hotel restaurant. Much less eventful for a usual race week Thursday. 

The next day you wake up, have breakfast and get ready to leave for the track. You check you have everything you need with you including your iPad and your badge to get in the paddock and you drive the Aston Martin, you lease for the weekend, to the track. You get to the entrance and scan your badge. To your surprise the screen in front of you shows a red cross and a message saying ‘Access Denied’. You try once again but the same message appears. You reach for your phone to call Christian to get you from the entrance. You wait for a couple of seconds before you hear his voice, the noise from the garage familiar to your ears. 

“Hey Dad” 

“Hello” you hear him answering

“It seems like my pass isn’t working, can you please come here and let me through?” you ask

“Oh I am quite busy right now sweetheart.”

“Can you send someone else instead?” 

“Um, I am sorry I have to tell you this but there’s a reason why your pass isn’t working.”

“What ?”

“It is going to remain like this for sometime, before I trust you to come back to the team”

“Did you cancel my pass because of what happened on Monday?”

“You should have been ready for this. I can’t discuss it more right now, we are having a meeting before FP1”

“Can you at least let me know about the meeting?”

“No, you are not in the team currently so, nothing to share. Feel free to fly back to England or Monaco with the next flight you find” Christian tells you and then ends the call. 

Thank god you thought about moving a bit further from the entrance so no one heard your discussion with your father. You feel a rush of anger coming at you but you hold yourself and walk as gracefully as you can back to your car, as people are watching you. You drive off the track and you pull over at the first parking space you see. You sit there in silence, since you were so confused that you didn’t even think to put some of your playlists on, and you try to realize what is happening. You let out a scream and tears roll over your face as you think of your father and all his five year old antics. But then you get the best and the worst idea you could possibly come up with. You drive fast back to your hotel and you run to your suite. You open the closet, grab Toto’s Mercedes shirt, stuff it in your new bag  that you haven’t worn in public, put on some tight black pants, some flat shoes and search furiously for that Mercedes face mask that Toto gave you that day in your travel bag. You get back to your car and drive to the track again, pulling over to wear the shirt and making yourself look like a mercedes employee. You leave the car a bit farther than usual so that fans don’t recognize you coming out of the car with the Mercedes gear. You once again walk to the paddock entrance. Hair tied on a bun, face mask and huge Gucci sunglasses covering your face. You get there not having thought of a way to get in. So you go with your instincts. 

“Hey” you say to the security guard. 

“Hi, how may I help you?” 

“Um, I am a new employee for Mercedes but I can’t seem to find my badge to get in.” you say with the best American accent that you have. Not that it mattered since the guard was Saudi Arabian. “Can you maybe call Mr. Wolff to come here? I’ll explain the situation to him” 

“I’ll reach Mr Lord.” he says

“No, no. You should call Mr.Wolff instead. I am not sure Mr. Lord is aware of my arrival here.”

“I’ll try to call Mr. Wolff then.” 

5 minutes later you see the Austrian walking to the entrance of the paddock and on his way there he waves to people, greets others and takes some photos. 

He goes to the security guard that called him

“What is it?” he asks

“This lady claimed that she’s a new employee for your team but she seems to have lost her badge, she insisted that I should call you instead of Mr. Lord.” 

Toto turns to look at you and you don’t hesitate. If you are going to get in, this is your chance. 

“Hello Mr. Wolff. My name is Mindy Roosevelt, I am here from the American branch of Daimler.” you say-again in your american accent- not being even 1% sure that you are making any sense. “I was sent here to assist you but it has been a really tricky week for me.” you look at Toto and he looks as confused as ever. “I was supposed to be here yesterday but my flight was canceled so I had to travel to Abu Dhabi to catch a connecting flight.” you try to give him hints of who you are, not being sure he understands. “ I had to look for the advisor of Daimler US Anri Hakkassan to give me my badge but then my wallet got stolen at the airport so I was left without a badge and my ID to show you who I am.” you see Toto’s eyes getting wider and wider as he realizes who you are. Your story seemed convincing for the security guard but Toto can’t leave you outside. He takes a deep breath 

“Ah yes miss Roosevelt I was waiting for you all day. Sorry to hear this. Come on.” he says and signals to the guard to let you through. You walk in the paddock and to the Mercedes hospitality, Toto not hesitating for a minute at the thought of you coming from another team. As soon as you both get in you see Bradley drinking coffee in the main lounge area of the motorhome and he greets you.

“I don’t want anyone bothering me for the next half an hour at least” he says to Bradley and he walks to his office as you follow him closely. You close the door behind you and Toto reaches and locks it. You take off your mask trying to apologize for the mess you’ve created. 

“I am so sorry Toto” you say and you hear him laugh 

“What is this?” he asks as he continues laughing

“Are you mad at me?” 

“No, I am just wondering how the hell you got yourself in this situation.”

“Christian blocked my paddock pass”

“He did what?” he asks looking slightly amused 

“This isn’t funny Toto, you know how much I love being in the team”

“That’s why you are hijacking my team?” he asks

“Christian thought that removing me from the team for a couple of races is a good way to punish me for being late at that meeting we had.”

“He did it just because you were 35 minutes late?” 

“You don’t realize Christian has a mind of a five year old when it’s about work right?”

“You said the investors were not mad that you were late, you even managed to charm them into signing a deal.”

“Yeah but Christian was mad, and he says it’s not about the investment, it’s about basic work ethic. Anyways, I can’t buy a paddock pass because I am not the type to sit in the lounge to watch the race. I need to be in the team. Plus I can’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me depressed because I am not at the pitwall or the garage.”

“How stubborn.”

“Yeah I am.”

“That’s very Horner of you.” he tells you and you roll your eyes at his obvious reference to your father’s stubbornness.  

“You are my only chance Toto, the other teams don’t even have a reason to accept me, except from Alpha Tauri, but I can’t go begging Franz about a paddock pass when he is clearly influenced by my dad.”

“Why are we even your only chance, we are your main competitors.” he asks

“I swear to god Toto I will do anything just to be here until Christian decides to drop the farce that he started. I will sign an NDA, I will keep my mouth shut about anything I see, I will delete it from my mind. Just let me be in the garage for the next few races.”

“How many races?” he looks at you

“I don’t know 3 maybe 4?” you tell him barely whispering.

“That’s a lot.” he replies “But for you I’ll try to do my best.” 

You try not to scream as you stand up from your seat, walk to his chair and hug him. You catch him off guard as he widens his eyes but then you feel his tension leaving him. 

“From now on you are Mindy Roosvelt and you came here to assist me as a part of your internship at Daimler US. You studied in New York, and you are American. You don’t know for how many races you’ll be here but it’s not long term.” Toto says taking his teacher look

“Understood.”

“You should never remove your mask in front of others, just tell them that you are at risk or something. Don’t wear high heels. We should do something about your hair so that people won’t realize it’s you and I advise you to wear sunglasses as much as possible, I’ll have Lewis hand me his collection from the Police Collaboration.”

“I’ll buy a wig. Can I have some more shirts and a couple of masks?”

“Is this shirt mine?” he asks and you nod “Looks good on you.” he says

“I’ll use yours then.” you tell him and you see him grinning. 

“I’ll have someone send you a couple of shirts, pants and shoes. I'll request your new paddock pass and I will be printing your NDA.”

“If anything leaks into Red Bull I swear I’ll be the first to go to court even if I am innocent.” you tell him and he laughs “Don’t laugh, I need you to see how serious I am about this. I won’t be saying anything to anyone.”

“I trust you. The NDA part is only about the team having to be legally protected.” 

“Okay” you say 

“Your office must be ready. It’s just the room next door, please lock it when you’re in.” he advises you “And please don’t forget your American accent once you go outside.” 

“I won’t forget. If we happen to see Christian around, just stay calm, I’ll handle it.”

“Okay” he says and you sit in silence for a couple of minutes. 

“I’ll go next door now.” you say and you stand up. “Oh sorry Toto, can I ask you about one last thing?” 

“What is it?” 

“Christian told me that I am free to leave with the next flight so I will be checking out of the hotel and I thought maybe I should be at the Mercedes hotel?” 

“I’ll arrange it. See you later.” he replies as you put on your mask and go to the room next door.  

20 minutes later you hear the door knocking, you stand up and reach for it 

“Who is this?” 

“Miss Roosevelt, I am Mariah. Mr. Wolff gave me something for you.”

You put your mask on and open the door 

“Come on in.” you tell her and she steps into your fake office

“I have this new iPad for you, Toto wanted you to have this. It has all of the passwords you’ll need and direct access to Toto’s schedule so you’ll know where you will be going and what you’ll be doing.” 

“What passwords are there?”

“Company email, team communications and private accounts.” 

“Okay thank you Mariah.”

“If you need anything else please do not hesitate to ask me, have a nice day.” she tells you and she leaves the office as you lock the door and remove your mask

You reach for your phone and text Toto 

You

Didn’t need to have access to all of this

Wolff

You have to If we are planning this lie correctly. 

I also sent you the details on your company email about the hotel room. I arranged it.

You 

Give me a minute I’ll have to get used to all of this.

The iPad is nice, I’ll give it back once I get all the details.

Wolff

Adaptability is key

Keep the iPad I don’t want you walking around the paddock with your old one, it’s practically a part of your looks, everyone will realize it’s you

Wolff

Anyways gotta work, I will be in the garage with Nyck for FP1, you’re welcome to hang by the fantasy island if you ever get the energy. 

For any question just text or call. 

You sit around for a while until your phone rings with a new notification from your calendar for the session starting in 5 minutes and as soon as you get it you stand up and leave for the garage. This time though it feels different. You used to take all your stuff with you in your pit wall seat but now there’s no pitwall seat, you’ll be just standing next to Toto, in the garage. You never got to stay in the garage, Christian always made sure you had a place at the pitwall, the garage was essentially a passage to get from the hospitality to the pitwall. You never spent a whole session in there, but now you will. The difference is the garage is not the one you are used to. It’s the Mercedes one and it’s clean, organized and much more hospitable than the one at Red Bull. At the long entrance of the garage there’s someone looking at you, making sure that you’re one of them. Little does he know, you think. 

“I am looking for Mr. Wolff.” you tell him

“He’s sat at the fantasy island with Nyck. You’ll see them once you get in.”

And you certainly do. The fantasy island splits the garage in two smaller ones for the two drivers of Mercedes, you get next to Toto and you don’t say a word. You look around you trying to take everything in, how the garage looks, how everyone is focused on what they’re doing and Toto next to you trying to manage everything that’s happening. He’s too far in to realize that you’re next to him and he nearly jumps as you touch his arm. 

“Sorry” you say quietly behind your mask. 

“It’s okay, I never realized that you came.”

“Well, I couldn’t turn down the proposal, plus I am supposed to be your assistant so I have to be with you.”

“I am not complaining.” he says and thank god Nyck is too busy chatting with Bradley next to you. Bradley hasn’t asked anything about you, he just keeps looking and staring at you but he’s not saying anything. 

For the next half an hour you see Lewis and George doing their laps, coming and leaving the garage during the session but during all this time you realize that you haven’t looked at the RedBull’s performances. The Mercedes garage felt like home for some reason. You weren’t doing nothing, you were just standing with your headphones on hearing comments about the car that you swear to yourself that you will never reveal to your team. Next to you Toto sits and watches the whole team working like a well oiled machine that he engineered. You are sure that he feels proud of himself, he has that grin on his face that makes you think so. You don’t know him really well but you have learned to pick some of those signs from the times that you’ve seen him around or that you’ve hung out with him. Again all of your thoughts are interrupted by a vibration from your pocket where your phone is. Goddamn it.  Another calendar reminder but this time it is from Toto’s calendar that you’ve managed to sync to your iPhone earlier. 

Meeting: Team Principals, FIA and F1. (1 assistant is allowed to attend) 

You widen your eyes at the notification and you tap Toto’s shoulder who is watching the timings and the data in front of him. He turns to look at you and removes the headphone from your side. You do the same but you realize Nyck is looking at you. 

“Sir, I just got a notification about your meeting with the F1 and FIA execs.” 

“It is half an hour after the session ends right?” 

“Yes but am I required to attend?” you ask

“Miss Roosevelt I believe that you were asked to be here as my assistant so since the meeting allows assistants it is your duty to be there.”

“Okay Mr. Wolff” you say and put your headphones back on to watch the rest of the session. 

“If you feel uncomfortable just excuse yourself and leave.” he turns and tells you and you nod. 

After the session in which your cars -yes, Mercedes cars- finish 1 and 3 you leave the garage and go back to the hospitality while waiting for Toto to finish his press duties.

Wolff 

I am done with my interviews, meet you outside our hospitality in 5?

You

Yes, I will be there. 

You leave and find him at the spot he told you to. You walk side by side to the race control building where the meeting is supposed to take place, him towering over you and you feeling miniscule beside him. When you are just outside Alpha Tauri’s garage you see your dad discussing with Franz and you roll your eyes praying that they will just let you go by. You get temporarily relieved when you are already past them but of course Christian has to talk to you. The man is trouble without trying. You hear him yelling “Hey Toto” from your back and you turn to face him. Toto frowns a bit but his expressions are mostly covered by his sunglasses. 

“Are you heading to the meeting?” Christian asks

“We are, yes.” Toto replies as you keep walking, Christian catching up with you. You take a sharp breath trying to persuade yourself that he won’t understand who you are. You’ve got your face covered after all. 

“I’ll join you.” Christian announces not even asking Toto who is clearly getting angrier. “I don’t believe we’ve met before” he says and turns to you.

You freeze but you regain your strength and reply to him “No, we actually haven't.” 

“I am Christian Horner, team principal of Red Bull Racing.” 

“Mindy Roosevelt, nice to meet you.” you say in your best American accent hoping that you won’t get recognized. 

“And you work for Mercedes I see. Let me guess’ Public Relations?”

“No, I am here to assist Mr. Wolff for a couple of races, it is something like an internship from the American branch of Daimler.” 

“I figured from the accent that you might be American.” Christian replies “Are you planning on staying at Daimler or leaving to get a job at motorsport?” 

“I don’t know yet I’ll see where it gets me.” you answer

“If you plan on staying here please text me your details, I got a very interesting assistant position for you.” 

“You had your daughter as your assistant from the beginning of the season, what happened to her?” you ask, trying to understand what he’s doing but you hear his phone ringing. 

“It’s complicated with her, I need something stable, and I know Wolff always gets the best of the best so I might have to get a taste.” he replies as Toto, who was silent before, scoffs in the background. Christian checks his phone and excuses himself as he runs back to the Alpha Tauri hospitality center. 

You let out a breath that you didn’t realize you were holding as you are walking to the meeting. 

“Red Bull will be trying to have technical directives for the next few races to try and stop us.” Toto says. 

“I know, I built that case and all the arguments. I know exactly what to say to convince the FIA in favor of Red Bull.” you reply “Can I talk during the meeting?” you ask

“What do you mean talk?”

“Like defending our team’s points, why technical directives shouldn’t be changed, and counterarguments.” 

“No, your role is the one of the assistant, not the meeting participant. You will only be allowed there to keep notes.” 

“I can write my points to you and you can read them and elaborate more, can’t I?” 

“Yes, you can write notes for me to read.”

“Nice, let’s get no regulation change for today.” 

“Isn’t this bad for Red Bull?”Toto asks

“Right now I am working for Mercedes, and Mercedes is only treating me right.” you answer

Toto raises his eyebrows “I am both flattered and surprised by the fact that you want to favor us.”

“You know what Toto? I am tired of thinking how Christian and Helmut will be using my case to present in this meeting. I worked hard for this and I was supposed to present my point. This meeting was supposed to be my first one.”

“Didn’t you go when you were younger?” 

“No, I didn’t Christian always had his assistant with him and never managed to get me in even when I started working part-time for him. It is frustrating to see how your own father looks to replace you at a job. And now the team that I accidentally got in, even has the ability to read my notes and present a solid case.”

Toto doesn’t say anything, he just looks at you, his body language revealing that he is scared to say anything to you. 

“Am I really that bad?” you ask 

“No. Don’t you ever say that again. You were great, you got a deal with some investors, you helped run a team and you are doing a good job at even being an assistant in the team you probably hated the most.”

10 minutes later you are already sitting at a long table. Toto is sitting on your left. You take your new iPad and a Mercedes notepad with a matching pen and rest it on the conference table in front of you as team principals and other officials are taking their seats to start the meetings. Once everyone is gathered there Stefano starts the meeting with all the formalities needed the conversation starts and after a while you start discussing the burning issue. You open your updated document that you had created this morning with all the arguments and the possible answers that could be said from Mercedes’ side, those ones you hadn’t given to your father. This was only to help your presentation to get the regulations changed but now you are using it for the opposite reason. Christian finishes presenting all the planned points and it’s time for Toto to express his opinion. You managed to write a couple of things on paper and showed him some of the points that he needs to discuss. The man has done this countless times you’re sure but he’s totally letting you handle this. 

“Okay, this is an answer to Christian’s concerns about how the regulations right now are not in the right direction. I do not have an exact answer to each and every point of Christian’s speech but I will be trying to get most of them.” he says and glances at the paper in front of him “I’ll start by Christian’s point that the issue affects multiple teams, when in fact it’s not even the majority of the grid that faces the issue that you are aiming to get changed. I can’t see the reason for the regulation change, clearly it’s not that dangerous to drivers health according to doctors and also it would be a huge waste of our resources to just redesign certain aspects of the car when we have the budget cap this year. That’s how I see it.” Toto finishes his monologue and all the eyes are on him. 

“Clearly there will be a vote for this.” Stefano says 

“Thank you for the notes.” Toto says turning to you and you nod back

Later on the vote takes place and the results are the ones that you expected. That means increased performance from Mercedes and Red Bull chasing them right behind. In other circumstances you would be fuming but now you are happy Mercedes got the chance to stop the regulation changes with your help. The meeting ends and you lobby around for a little longer but afterwards you are back to the paddock walking to the garage for the second practice session. Toto walks by your side and you feel he wants to ask you about what happened there but before he can you inform him you will need some time in your office and you leave him behind. 

You get back to your office and you text your friend Sara who lives in Monaco

You

Are you in Monaco?

Sara

Of course I am in Monaco.

The question is where are you?

You 

Issues with dad, he won’t let me enter the paddock because I was late in a business meeting and now he removed me from the team

Still in Jeddah though

Listen, I need a favor from you and your magic contacts in Monaco

Sara

I don’t wish to know more about the dad-daughter drama

But I am here to help you with whatever you want

You

I need a place to stay in Monaco

Sara

You can crash on mine or I’ll book you a hotel

You 

I am thinking more of an apartment tbh

Sara

How long do you plan on staying here?

You 

Permanently?

Sara 

OMG, you’ll become a fellow Monegasque?

I will be in contact with my estate agent

You

Yes, I am planning to finally start living in Monaco. I don’t even know if Christian will take me back to the team to be honest but even if he does I can still live in Oxfordshire or in my apartment in London.

Sara

How fast do you need it?

You 

As soon as possible please 

You lock your phone as you take a deep breath to realize the decision that you just took. Moving to Monaco has always been your dream, since you have been to the Grand Prix there you fell in love with the place and you have spent quite some time in Sara’s house during the summer when you were younger. But now you want to do this alone, you want to feel independent in the country that you loved so much. You immediately think of contacting your father. You decide email is the best option. If he wants to be a bitch so will you

Hello father, 

I am sending this email to inform you about my decisions. I will be moving to Monaco in the next couple of weeks, on my own. I believe I will be able to make my own living with the money I currently have. I am requesting my last paycheck from the team since I have been fired and I am not aware of your intentions to hire me back or not. I wish that my personal space in our estate in Oxfordshire remains unchanged in case I am able to return to my obligations to the team, and I inform you that the apartment in London will still be mine. I am still in Saudi Arabia arranging my flight to Monaco. I will be quite busy during the next few weeks so I will not be able to contact you. Should you decide that I am able to come back to the team please inform me. 

Wishing you the best. 

And send. 

You go back to the garage 20 minutes in the session and you spot Toto sitting alone at the top of the fantasy island wearing a pair of headphones while another one is resting  on the desk in front of him. You go to his right and check the timings. Currently Mercedes 1-2. He looks at you and removes the headset so he can listen. He hands you the spare headset.

“Isn’t this Nyck’s?” you ask

“No this is yours, Nyck is not joining us at this session.”

“Thank you” you say and you wear the headphones 

During the rest of the session Toto shows you all the graphs about the car performance as well as all the communications systems in the team. You are convinced that he is not supposed to do that, it’s knowledge that an assistant could live without knowing and wouldn’t affect their job but still he seems so invested in letting you understand how the team works. This experience is not about gathering information for Red Bull, you think. It’s more about how a team should be and how correct management is done. Something that you feel is missing from Red Bull. The session finishes and Lewis and George are back to the garage with another top 3 finish for the team. 

As soon as your day ends you drive your Aston Martin back to the Red Bull hotel, pack your baggage, check out and drive to the airport where you are supposed to leave the car. When you manage to do so you go to the car rental area of the airport and visit the kiosk of the company Toto texted you about and get the keys to a brand new Mercedes AMG. Shortly after that you get dressed with your Mercedes gear once again and drive to the Ritz-Carlton to check into your new room. 

Turns out Toto has not only arranged a room for you but it’s also a huge fucking suite that you’re sure most Mercedes employees wouldn’t even consider having. You take a look at the suite and you open the closet door to find it full of Mercedes team shirts, hilfiger pants and the usual Mercedes designed puma shoes. You snap a picture of the closet and you decide to document those weeks of alternate reality that you are currently living in.

When the anxiety of the weirdest day you’ve lived wears off you check your phone for your newest messages

Sara

Gerard just reached out to me.

He has a wonderful loft 2,5 km from the Quartier Du Port.

Generally peaceful location

Sea views as well

Let me know if you want to see it.

You 

If you can go there and get some pictures please do. Thank you <3

After that long day you realize that you didn’t get the chance to have a proper meal so you decide to order room service to finally eat something. You think of how pathetic it would look if you eat alone in this huge suite and before you can even cope with that thought you reach for your phone and call Toto. He picks up after 2 rings

“Hello” he says

“Hi, how’s everything?”

“Good, I am getting ready to go downstairs to the restaurant to have dinner, how are you?” “Oh same I was thinking of getting some room service for dinner since I can’t actually go to the restaurant to eat, but the suite is big enough to not feel restricted in one room. Thanks for that by the way.”

“I am sure you’ve only lived in suites for the whole year now so I thought why not. Don’t let the rest of the team know that though.” he says and you hear his laugh on the phone. You stay quiet and he does the same but when you actually decide to say something he speaks again “Maybe we can have dinner together now” he says.

“That’s why I called you in the first place” you admit, but you think you definitely sound a bit in despair. “I can’t order food for two people though it might seem weird.”

“You can come over to my suite, I’ll make sure that it will look as if I am having a meeting with either James or Shov.” he suggests

“Is it okay?” you ask again

“Definitely, I will be ready in 10, suite 264. See you.” he says and terminates the call.

You take a look at the closet trying to decide what to wear. You choose a graphic t-shirt and your most comfortable pants paired with your white sneakers, the only flat pair of shoes that you carried with you. You take a look at the mirror, readjust your hair, put on a nude lipstick and after 10 minutes you are finally ready to leave. You put on your mask because your goal for today isn’t getting caught from walking in some hotel corridor and you navigate your way to suite 264, you knock on the door and Toto is right there letting you in. He’s wearing a pair of black sweats and a gray T-shirt but he is barefoot. 

“Hey” you say and you walk in the suite looking around. It does look like your suite when it comes to furniture but the rooms are a little more private. There’s a desk that has turned out to be more like Toto’s office for the weekend. You sit on the couch while he closes the door behind you and walks in the living room. You take your mask off and sit there looking at the ceiling. Toto stands in front of you with a menu card in hand.

“I was thinking, maybe pasta?” he tells you

“That’s what I planned to order today.” you laugh as Toto reaches for the phone on the table next to the couch and orders 2 plates of pasta ai funghi with two glasses of red wine. 

“They’ll be here in 30 minutes” he tells you

“Great” you reply and stand up. You look at the place around you, stand up and walk to the desk. You sit on the only chair there and you put on his round glasses and put on your serious face as you move your fingers on the mousepad of his mac which -to your surprise- is unlocked so you are able to navigate in his computer. You open up his email but still he doesn’t react even though you are looking at you closely and you start typing and reading out loud. 

“Hey Michael, I am just sending you an email.” you say and you keep being serious while you hear Toto bursting in laughter at the couch.

“Lewis is the best of all time, he did nothing wrong, everything is red bull's fault.” you say again and he keeps looking at you. 

You keep joking, acting like you are typing a new email “Hey FIA, it’s Toto, please let us use the das. It's a great innovation and we are so smart to think about it. We are not illegal, or at least that’s what James Allison and Shov said. It’s not our fault that we are both smart and sexy. Thank you in advance.” 

“That’s not what I said” he laughs

“I’ll need proof for that.” you say “Would I make a good Toto Wolff?” 

“The best. I’ll be sure to leave you in my position once I retire.” 

“What will Daimler say for that though?” 

“You are doing your training so why would they have an issue?” he replies and you laugh. 

“Isn’t this suite a bit too big just for you?” you ask

“You have the same one but yeah it is a bit big.”

“Mine isn’t as big.” you say “Most times I feel lonely in those suites. Mine don’t have kitchens though.” 

“You cook? Too bad we have ordered already.” 

“Maybe another time.” you say and you hear the door knocking. 

“Quite fast.” Toto says and he stands up to open the door. 

You walk around the suite once again and enter his bedroom and look at the open closet which is once again full of Mercedes button ons so you grab one and put it on. You hear Toto talking and you go back to the living room but he’s still talking to the person outside the door. 

“I am kinda busy here Cynthia. I am sorry.” you hear him say

“Please Toto.” a female voice replies “Is there someone else? Is that why you ordered two plates, two glasses of wine?” she asks

“Cynthia I am in the middle of a very important business meeting, it’s about tomorrow’s qualifying and James is waiting inside to eat so that we can continue our meeting. Thank you for the service.” 

“Will you call me when you are done?” 

“I will be asleep when we are done.Thank you” he says and closes the door. 

You stand there in his living room wearing his button up feeling stupid for believing this thing could go anywhere further. 

“I should get going.” you say 

“Now that the food is here?” he asks but you don’t reply, “Is this shirt mine? Are you going to take this one too?”

“I will get back to my suite and you can call Cynthia, or whatever her name is, and tell her that James is gone and that you are okay for her to come back and do whatever you two do together.” 

“Wait, are you jealous? Of Cynthia?” 

“I am not jealous, just not in the position to get involved with someone who’s fucking around with the girl who brought him room service 3 times.” 

“I am not involved with her.” he says

“Well she seemed awfully too comfortable to be just a stranger Toto.” 

“What do you want to hear?” he asks

“That you’ve fucked her?” you tell him

“We slept together once last year.” 

“That’s all I needed to hear. Goodbye Toto.” you say as you walk towards the door, his shirt still hanging on your shoulders but before you can leave he manages to grab your hand 

“I only saw her once this year and I just said hi. We hadn’t spoken since last year but as soon as I arrived she didn't stop appearing in my way. She had reached out several times since we left last year but I never got back to her.” 

“So she’s nothing to you?” 

“She was just a fling.” he replies and you turn around to sit on the dining table. 

“Fine” you say, irritation apparent in your voice “Am I just a fling?” you ask yourself in your head so you decide to ask the same to Toto who is holding the pasta plates leaving one in front of you and one opposite to you  on the table. He doesn’t answer, instead he does the same with the two glasses of wine. His silence makes you feel like his answer is not the one that you want to hear but as he leaves the glasses on the table he doesn’t sit down, he stays there towering over you and looking at you. 

“If it was just a fling I wouldn’t risk destroying my team for it. Also I wouldn’t have done anything that I’ve done for you in any case.” he replies. “Technically you can’t even call it a fling because we only made out two or three times and we were drunk.” he says and just stays still “And still there are two glasses of wine that I ordered on that table. I am never going to learn, am I ?” he laughs

“Sorry ?” you ask but he leans in, reaches for your face and kisses you catching you off guard. You stay still in your chair as he sits opposite to you not saying anything

“The wine is red” he says then

“I can see that.” you reply

“They say that red wine can get you drunk easier.” 

You try to understand where he’s going with this

“And?”

“We haven’t drunk any of it yet so we are sober”

“Why are you explaining this to me like I’ve never drunk before?”

“This is the most sober that I will be tonight and you said that I didn’t have the guts to make a move without being drunk.” he says

“You won’t get drunk with a glass of wine Toto.”

“I know I won’t but still I didn’t want you to blame this on a single drop of alcohol.” he replies and you smile and you start eating. No one talks during dinner but you are laughing at each other when you’re struggling with eating the pasta without actually making a mess. It feels natural to just sit there and eat with his company, like you are finally where you are supposed to be. For this moment you forget everything else and you focus on what you are currently living. After some time you both finish your food and you see Toto standing up. 

“We should finish our wine on the couch.” he says, taking his glass and you copy his moves. He sits on the couch and you do the same but you don’t sit close to him. You rest your back on the couch arm and lay there putting your feet on his lap. He turns and looks at you but he doesn’t say anything. He rests one hand on your feet and he grabs his phone with the other one unlocking it and looking at his mails. 

“Do you want to work?” you ask

“It’s Friday night so no.” he replies

“Then close your phone”

“What can we do instead?” 

“Talk like normal people?” you tell him

“About?” he asks

“I am thinking of moving to Monaco” 

“That’s a bold choice, have you thought about it enough?” he asks

“I have and I think it’s the best thing I can do to be honest, I have some of my friends there and I really want to leave home, I really can’t deal with Christian while he keeps treating me like this.” 

“That’s good.” he replies “What about going to the factory ?” 

“How are you doing it? You live in Monaco and you also have to go to England at the factory.” 

“It’s really tiring to be honest, you need to have a place to stay close to the factory “

“I have my apartment in London available.” you tell him

“London to Milton Keynes isn’t that easy to do on a daily basis.” 

“Anyways, going to the factory isn’t my main priority right now, I am not even on the team.” 

“You are on Mercedes.” he says

“Is this an invitation to Brackley?” you laugh

“You swore it was just for a few races, not that you will be staying permanently” 

“It was my masterplan to get hired by Mercedes.” 

“We don’t want you with us.” he jokes

“Why?” you ask 

“You are distracting the team Ms. Horner.” 

“How am I even distracting the team?” you say whining “People don’t even know who I am except from you.”

“You answered for me.” he tells you “And now I have to deal with you walking around Monaco.” 

“Oh sorry, I’ll cancel my plans then.”

“Oh no, Monaco needs a twist.” he says and you look at him but say nothing. He doesn’t attempt to start a new conversation, he just readjusts on the couch, grabs the remote and opens the TV. He navigates through Netflix’s homepage and you eventually make him watch a movie which he tried to convince you not to watch. Again, none of you speaks during the movie. Halfway through, you realize you’re far too invested in the movie and turn to look at Toto who is fast asleep on that same couch. You decide that there’s no point in staying longer in his suite and you remove your legs from his lap as smoothly as you can, you grab your phone and your shoes which you had earlier taken off and head to the door tiptoeing. 

“Stay here tonight.” you hear his raspy voice which takes you by surprise and you almost scream

“It’s better that I leave, you are tired and need some sleep.” you reply

“There’s a spare bed if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

“And there’s an empty suite down the hallway.”

“Come on, aren't you bored to leave when you can just sleep here?” he tells you and well, he’s kinda right. Plus it’s not like you don’t want to spend some more time with him and it would definitely be questionable if someone saw you leaving his suite at midnight. You don’t go back to the couch but you leave your shoes down while Toto eyes every single move you make. 

“It’s quali day tomorrow, we need to sleep. Come on.”  you tell him and you walk to his room. Seconds later he follows you and enters the room. 

“I’m taking the left side.” you say and he smiles at you with a sleepy face. 

“You’re sure you don’t want to sleep in the other room?” he asks

“It’s not like it will make any difference. Except if you have a problem.”

“No, definitely not.” he replies and both of you lay on the bed, facing each other. 

“I’ll wake up earlier to go to the gym, then we can get ready and hit the track. We’ll have breakfast there.” he says and you nod. He seems very calm, eyelids heavy with sleep so you decide to lean and kiss him goodnight. As you come closer to him you can now feel his scent and warmth and you put your lips on his. The kiss is slow and sweet, somehow different from the rest that the two of you had shared up to this moment. 

“Goodnight Wolff.” you say

“Goodnight Horner.” he replies and both of you drift to sleep. 

The next day you wake up without an alarm and you find the bed next to you empty. You hear water running and figure out that Toto must be taking his post gym shower. You keep laying there and grab your phone to go through new updates and messages. Not a lot of time passes until he emerges from the bathroom wearing nothing but a white towel wrapped around his waist and he holds another one trying to dry the water off his hair. You admire the sight for a while and you say “Good Morning”. He looks at you and replies

 “Good Morning Horner. Slept well?” 

“Very much thank you” you say “How about you?”

“Slept really well, and I started my day with a good session at the gym with George and Lewis.”

“Oh that must have been interesting. I would have loved to join you three.”

“It would be funny to see their reactions.” he replies as he dries his hair on a smaller white towel while he’s looking at the nightstand on your right where his things rest . He tosses the towel he was holding on a white chair in the room and he approaches you. He climbs on the bed and puts one hand on the headrest while his other hand is stretching to reach the IWC watch on the nightstand. His already toned muscles are a little more observable now that he’s lingering above you. You draw a sharp breath at the sight trying to contain your thoughts and your self but you still look up and stare at him while he makes sure that he gets the watch. When he actually does, he looks down at you and he catches you staring. 

“What?” he asks, staying still in the same position and you don’t answer but instead you scoff. You take a quick glance on his body and you let your instincts take over. You grab him from his neck and pull him down for a kiss. He immediately reacts by holding your face with his now free hand and he pulls you closer as he deepens the kiss and bites your lip. You melt into the kiss still laying down as you feel your heart racing faster than any racing car you’ve ever seen. Your breath gets quicker as you get the sheets out of your way trying to feel his skin on yours. Toto mutters “Fuck” in between your kisses making you a little crazier. He breaks the kiss and walks to the end of the bed, he grabs your legs and starts leaving trails of  kisses all the way up from your calf to your upper thigh until he stops and looks at you, eyes full of lust. He lingers above you for a second or two and he looks at you intensely trying to make sure that he has your consent for his following actions. Once you understand what this is about you nod while you're trying to regulate your breath. 

"Stay still for me baby" he requests and you try to follow his order by just laying there as he dives his head between your thighs. Your breathing gets faster and deeper as he works his way down on you making you feel like you’ve never felt before. You sense his smile while his tongue makes circles down on you. It’s more sensual than you’ve imagined it to be. And god the man definitely knows what he’s doing. He keeps going on for a while with the same dedication as he started and you feel getting closer and closer to your absolute limits. You look down on him as he now uses his hands on you, and you see him staring back. “You look so good baby” he says and all you can manage to say is his name followed by a moan. “Toto I’m so close. Fuck” you say out of breath and he dives in once again as if he heard the magic phrase. He works his magic and shortly after you probably have the best orgasm you’ve ever had. Then he stands up, his hardness still apparent. You manage to regain your strength and crawl at the end of the bed. “Time to take care of you love.” you tell him and he looks at you with a sparkle in his eye. You reach for his neck and pull him in for a long kiss as you move your hand down his torso and on his crotch. You feel him, how hard he is, and you’re secretly taking pride in your effect on him. You start touching him, trying to make him feel good in your hands. His breathing gets faster as you continue and you can sense him coming closer and closer. You want to give him your best so you slowly lean down but he stops you. “Let me feel you?” he asks, almost sounding tortured. You feel a burning desire in you. You’ve imagined this for some time. You cannot say no, not now. Instead you say “Yes please” and get on his lap. You kiss him, while you’re repeating in your head “i am actually fucking Toto Wolff”. You give him one or two strokes getting ready for him but instead of following he looks around, probably for protection. “I am on birth control” you tell him and he turns his attention back to you. You place yourself in the right position as you feel him pressuring your entrance. Once he’s in you start riding him until  you feel yourself getting out of breath. All this time muttering his name like a mantra and he is just repeating something in the lines of “God you feel so good.”, both of you feeling like you’re in another world. As soon as he gets that you are tired he lifts you up and lays you down on the bed. Now he is on top and he’s thrusting in and out in a rhythmic and satisfying way. He looks you in the eye. It’s not awkward. Not even close. You both seem to enjoy it quite a lot. It’s not after a long time that both of you finish at the same time, in an almost poetic way. 

Now both of you lay naked on Toto’s queen sized bed. No one is talking. You just lay on his torso while his hand is round your shoulders. At some point you decide to break the silence

“That was a decent start to the day.” you say and Toto looks down on you 

“Beats the early gym session to be honest.” he says

“I would be angry if you preferred going to the gym with Lewis and George to having sex with me” 

“If it wasn’t for the gym you wouldn’t be here now”

“You think it was the ‘semi naked with a towel’ appearance that made me want to sleep with you?” you laugh “I would give it to you any time of the day, even if you were wearing a garbage bag Wolff.” 

“Nice to hear that you are unreasonably horny.” 

“It’s not without a reason though. I think you’ve figured out that I do not consider you a bad looking man.” 

“I have yes.” 

“All I had to do is to just find the courage to just throw myself at you.” you laugh 

“And you kind of had to be drunk to do so?” he asks

“Yes”

“Isn’t it ironic though?” he says “That we actually slept together during the moment of our biggest clarity and sobriety?”

“What is it with the philosophical questions Toto? I just wanted to have sex with you for a long time and I did.”

“Long time I hear?” 

“Yes, are you surprised?” you ask

“No, just glad that I am not the only one. Was it good at least?” 

“God Toto, you’re asking the cringiest questions.” you say “Yes, god, it was perfect.”  you answer and you hear Toto laugh. 

“Now as much as I want to stay here and repeat this through the day, we have to go to the track” he says

“Ah yes, I am dying to get some breakfast as well.” you say and Toto laughs 

“I’ve already had mine” he says with a smirk and as soon as you get what he’s talking about you grab your pillow and start hitting him playfully. 

“Come on, let’s get ready.” 

A hour or so later, you find yourself parking a shiny black Mercedes at the track's parking area while being already disguised as your alter ego, full on Mercedes’ gear.  Today you are wearing Toto’s shirt, which is a little oversized but you manage to style it in a great way. You grab your bag, draw a sharp breath and open the door. You walk to the paddock and scan your pass as you go totally unnoticed by people around you. To them you look like a regular Mercedes employee that they have no reason to care about. Little do they know that this is actually you. To be honest you kind of love the calmness of it, how no one is chasing you for a photo or a statement on a recent drama or event of the F1 world. You just walk unbothered. You get so caught up in that thought that you don’t actually notice how fast you got to the motorhome. You get in and put on your show, greeting the majority of your colleagues that also seem ignorant to your presence there. You go to the buffet area and grab a tray for your breakfast which you eventually bring to the small office that Toto managed to provide you. Once you settle in,  you sit down to eat but you take a photo of the breakfast as a part of documenting that crazy weekend. You also decide to send the photo to Toto. 

You 

[photo]

Grabbed breakfast and brought it to the office. Drop by if you don’t have anything better to do. 

Wolff

Just walked in. I’ll grab my coffee and be there in 5. 

You 

Cool.

Five minutes later you hear a knock on the door followed by “Miss Roosevelt it’s Wolff here.” 

“Coming.” you say and unlock the door for him to come in. 

“Hey” you say

“Hello” he answers and looks at the full tray “You got quite a lot of food there.” 

“Yeah, that start to the day just opened my appetite.” 

“That’s good to hear” 

“So, what am I supposed to do today?” 

“Well, practice starts in 45 minutes and then we have qualifying.” 

“I am aware of the program, thank you.” 

“You won’t let me finish my thought will you?” he says

“Sorry” you tell him and look at him 

“I am thinking, maybe you can join me and Nyck in the garage for practice.” he pauses to think “And then you can take a look at the data before qualifying.” 

“No I cannot do that” you say 

“Why not? I know you can read data, you have the basic skills and knowledge to judge a performance run.” 

“I don’t want to be involved with your data. It’s confidential.” you reply.  It is actually crazy that Toto is okay with the idea of you handling the team’s data, as if you are not his number one opponent. 

“I know it is. But I trust you, plus there’s an NDA that you’ve already signed. And the fact that you deny reading the data makes me want to give you access to them more than before. Because I know how serious you are about not leaking stuff.” 

“Okay I will take a look, but only for a short time.” you tell him 

“Oh and then I want you to do a tour to a group of visitors that will be coming to the garage.” 

“Aren’t there people responsible for this?” you ask, reminiscing the fact that in Red Bull you have people who are responsible for the hospitality packages. 

“There are but they are shitting their pants because Christiano is dropping by later.”

“Who is Christiano?” you ask, slightly confused

“Ronaldo” he replies

“He’s coming to the race?” 

“Yes. He’s actually coming both today and tomorrow and the team is invested in doing everything perfect for him.” he says and you are still staring at him with your mouth open “We are a bit short staffed in that team so an extra help would be amazing.” 

“Good. I’ll do that too.” 

“Great, thanks love” he says and you freeze at the name but before it gets too awkward the door knocks. 

“Toto, this is James, do you have some time to review the quali strategy?” you hear through the door

“Yes, I will be there in a sec.” he replies “Gotta go now, i’ll see you in 45 right?” 

“Right” you tell him and he is out of the office. I

You spend the next 30 minutes scrolling through twitter and eating the breakfast that you got earlier as well as taking a look at Toto’s schedule for the day. Later on you leave the office, mask on once again, and make your way to the garage and to the top of the fantasy island where Toto and Nyck are waiting for the session to start. Both cars are in the garage waiting for a sign to leave once the lights at the end of the pitlane turn green and at the same time all the mechanics are making the final touches on the set ups. You greet everyone sitting on the fantasy island and put on the spare headphones as you did the day before. The session is done as usual, the drivers  going in and out of the garage to change setups on the car to find an optimal one for the qualifying. Performance runs are also on the programme but only during the last fifteen minutes of the session. Everything concerning telemetry is being sent directly into Toto’s computer on top of the fantasy island as soon as each lap ends so that he can see how they are done and areas where they can be corrected. The session ends quicker than it usually does when you are at Red Bull because suddenly all the chit chat becomes interesting and not as boring as it is with Christian. 

“P1 and P2 huh?” you ask him. Nyck is already out of the garage, something about having to talk to some foreign media made Toto let him leave before the small pre qualifying debrief.  

“It isn’t bad is it?” he asks back.

“It is not for us” you tell him “ It is for the rest of the grid though. I bet Christian is fuming right now.” 

“It is not bad for them. If we are in front they will have to innovate more to reach us. It motivates them.” 

“I bet they are not seeing it this way though.” 

“Is Christian really fuming if we finish in front in practice?” 

“Yeah, he’s not a fan of coming second in any session of this sport.”

“Too bad for him.” he says and you laugh. At this moment your phone rings with a notification from the calendar app reminding you of an interview Toto has to attend. 

“Oh, I am seeing now that you should be outside the media pen for an interview.” you tell him

“I am very much aware, thank you.” 

“Well, why are you not there now?” 

“I prefer to hang out with my beautiful assistant instead.” he compliments you

“Oh my god, shut up” you laugh and he does the same “Come on, interview, now!” you say as you tug him and try to push him to the corridor that leads to the paddock playfully. 

“That’s unfair. I am the boss. You are not in the position to prohibit me from doing anything.” he laughs as he walks reluctantly to the paddock. 

“Well, it seems like I am in charge of what you are doing so technically I am allowed to tell you what to do.” you tell him “I will be enjoying a cold cup of coffee in the meantime.” 

“Once again, that’s unfair Horner.” he says the second part whispering so that people are not able to hear. “Also, you have work to do. The telemetry data is already in your email inbox waiting to be read and commented on, so if I were you I would actually save the coffee for later.” he says and you look at him flabbergasted. “Oh and as soon as you are done with that you have the little tour to do in an hour and a half. Take care Ms. Roosevelt.” 

Before you are able to form a sentence he is already gone, more like running to the media pen. You on the other side, walk back to your office, open your new iPad and take a look at the data. The lap times look good, still slower than the lap time that you calculated the pole position would be on, but they look good. In the data you can see clearly that the engine mode is in a much less aggressive setup that you are sure will change during qualifying. You add some comments using your iPencil concerning parts of where you think the drivers can gain time, as well as some questions for the strategists and the mechanics. When you are done, you forward your notes to Toto’s email and check the clock to see that it has actually been 1:30 hours and that it is actually the time to go meet the people you will be giving your tour to.

You find them all standing on a circle by the garage entrance at the paddock, discussing, taking pictures and being excited. There are 5 of them, 3 guys and 2 girls, all of them close to your age. You approach them and greet them. One of the girls looks gorgeous. The boys aren’t bad either. 

“Hello everyone.” you say “You must be waiting for a paddock tour right?” 

“Yeah” one of the boys says and the rest of them nod. 

“Okay!” you say in an excited tone, trying to engage with them. “I am Mindy. I will learn your names during the tour I suppose.”

“Nice to meet you” says one of the girls “Likewise” you answer “So, should we start? Are you all excited?”

“Very.” one of the boys says.

 The tour starts and you take all of them for a walk in the paddock to see all the motorhomes and where you actually work and you are actually describing all the details about what you are showing to them. You take them by the media pen, where you spot Toto giving another interview for pre qualifying. All of the guys and the girls get very excited and try to snap a picture even from far away. Then you take them by the garage but just before you manage to get in, you receive a new notification on your watch

Wolff

Just finished the interviews at the media pen and managed to see your notes and questions on the telemetry data. I forwarded them to James and he immediately got back to me asking who made all those brilliant notes and questions. I guess you are wasting yourself with management, you should become a mechanic instead. 

Oh I also caught a glance of you and the guys during the tour. I hope that you are doing alright. We don’t want to make Ritz’s employees sad, we still have a few days left before we check out. 

You read the message and realize that the people that you’ve been interacting with are people working at your hotel. So you decide to stop the tour and actually get to know them. 

“You know what? Let’s introduce ourselves before going into the garage.” you tell them and walk back to a bench located at the paddock. 

“So as I told you before I am Mindy Roosevelt, I am currently working at Mercedes AMG Petronas F1 but my position is totally different to what I am doing right now. I am actually working as an assistant to upper management, but the hospitality team has a very special guest for this weekend and they were busy enough so you are left with me.” you say  “Go ahead, introduce yourselves.” 

One of the guys starts talking “I am Ahmad Hussain and like everyone here, I am working at the Ritz-Carlton in Jeddah. I am working as a cook in the hotel kitchen so everything that you’ve tasted in the past few days might have had to do something with me.” 

“I loved everything that I’ve tried, thank you Ahmad.” you tell him

“I am Benjy Ayad, I am half american half saudi arabian and I am currently working at the Ritz-Carlton as an economics advisor.” he says

“Mohammad Dawoud, and I am working at the Ritz-Carlton in room service.”

“Oh, I will be requesting for you Mohammad.” you laugh and he takes a bow showing his honor. 

“I am also working as room service at the Ritz.” you hear one of the girls saying. This time it’s the pretty one

“That’s nice. What is your name?”

“I am Cynthia Jones.” she says and you freeze as you realize that the girl standing in front of you has slept with the man you slept with this morning. Jealousy as well as curiosity are your main feelings so you ask for more information. 

“Sounds very non-Saudi Arabian. Where are you from Cynthia?” you ask

“I am from the UK actually. I was born and raised there, my parents are British but all of a sudden I ended up here. I was looking for a position in management in some big companies here in Saudi Arabia and I got this job as a part time until I figured things out but I ended up staying for two years.” 

“That’s crazy. And why management? Do you have a degree?” 

“Yes, I actually do. I got my degree in Switzerland and I tried pursuing it but right now I haven’t found anything that I like.” 

You nod in agreement, trying to register all the information that you’ve learned from her directly. Toto was secretive about their relationship so learning even the slightest about her is important. Finally you turn to the last girl left

“Alina Mohammad, I work as a receptionist at the Ritz. Nothing to know exactly. I was born and raised here and I got a degree in touristics so I got the job of my dreams.” 

“You guys seem really happy with what you are all doing. I hope you keep doing what you love.” you say “I mean you all managed to buy a paddock pass that most people wouldn’t dream buying at what? 24?” 

“No actually we didn’t buy a pass, the team invited us to join today’s action.”  says Benjy

“Oh shit, I didn’t know that.” you say 

“Yeah they came in last night and handed us the passes just before our shift ended. We went crazy.” says Cynthia and you look at her. 

“Sorry Cynthia, if I may ask, what time do you finish your shift on average?” 

“I don’t know, maybe like 11pm or something? Yesterday I finished at that time.” she replies. At this point you are now sure, Toto asked her to come there today. There’s no other explanation. As soon as he saw her he wanted her to come back. That’s why he invited her. It wasn’t planned for you to do the interview, but he changed it to make you interact with Cynthia, to actually hurt your feelings. 

“Mindy, is everything okay?” Mohammad asks as you have totally zoned out

“Sorry, I spaced out for a bit. Yes, everything is good. Shall we continue with our garage tour?” you ask and they nod. You go back to the garage trying to explain as many things as you know about the things there. To be honest, your mood isn’t quite the same as it was before you knew who the beautiful blonde by your side was. Luckily, the tour comes to an end 30 minutes later but sadly it is qualifying time so you have to be by Toto’s side by the time the session starts. Cristiano Ronaldo is also there by Toto’s side. You nod and greet him as Toto introduces you and you just get back to work. 

During qualifying you sit there, not talking, just looking at the screen and the timings and occasionally checking your burner twitter account for any comments.  Although you are pissed at the man next to you you definitely don’t want Mercedes to qualify in bad positions so through Q1 and Q2 you are relaxed since it is obvious that both cars will be through to Q3. During Q3 you keep your fingers crossed and mostly during the last runs for pole position you keep praying as you usually do in Red Bull. When the timer runs out Lewis and George are sitting P1 and P2 respectively, locking the front row for tomorrow’s start and as soon as the team figures it out, the whole garage erupts in cheers. Toto reaches Ronaldo for a handshake, celebrating the results.  Your eye catches the guys from earlier cheering and hugging each other, taping with their phones. Toto turns to you and you do a high five with him as he smiles at you. You remain indifferent in his reaction, keeping yourself busy until George and Lewis are back to the parc ferme to congratulate them. Once you are done with that you simply say goodbye to everyone there and leave. 

You go back and grab all your things and without saying a word to anyone you drive back to the hotel. When you are ready to go back to bed, you see a new message

Max Emilian Verstappen

Where are you? I missed you on track these days. 

You

Sadly Christian thought it was a fair deal to throw me out of the team for god knows how long.

Happily for you I will be out of your way for that time so you will relax. 

Also congrats for the P3 today, it was a decent run but the mercs had the pace. 

Max Emilian Verstappen

Oh Christian…

Shut up, I already miss you. Are you in England?

Thank you H.

You

I am in Monaco, at a friend's house. 

You feel kinda terrible for lying to him but there’s not much you can do. 

After you chat with Max for a while, you order some food to eat but then get another message. 

Wolff

Lost you after qualifying and when I asked they told me you had left. That wasn’t a bad result. 

Anyways I am going back to the hotel and I am planning to order something to eat, you can hang around my suite if you want and we can discuss strategies for the race. 

Let me know what you are about to do 

You 

I’m not feeling very good, sorry. 

And tomorrow I will be coming in late, probably an hour or so before the start

Wolff

Okay. Do you need any help? Should I drop by your suite? 

How am I supposed to work without my assistant?

You 

I am not your main assistant Woff, you have a hundred people helping you, me not being there won’t be a huge issue

No, don’t come. 

Just let me fucking be for once okay? 

Later on you see that he read the message and didn’t reply. You take a hot bath and go to sleep for tomorrow. 

You wake up the next day pretty late but just in time considering the fact that you are planning to leave in 2 hours. You order breakfast to avoid having something at the track and start getting ready as you are waiting for room service to arrive. You eat and then leave. 

Since you left the hotel earlier your time of arrival is estimated earlier than you actually planned so you decide to take a drive in Jeddah’s streets to soak in the country. An hour or so before the start you actually arrive at the track. You park your car and walk to the hospitality. Then you lock yourself in your office and just read notes for the race. Later on you hear a knock on the door. 

“It’s Wolff” you hear him say and you open the door even if you don’t want to. You don’t speak. You stay there and look at him. “Are you feeling okay?” he asks 

“I am okay, yes.” you reply “Do you want anything else?” you ask him since he’s standing there just watching, 

“Why are you acting like this?” he asks

“Like what?” 

“Like Christian Horner’s daughter?” 

“Yeah, you should be expecting that since that’s exactly who I am” 

“You haven’t been like this since Bahrain.” he says

“Well if you don’t like it then you should call Cynthia.” you tell him

“Is this what this is all about? Are you jealous?” he asks

“Listen Toto, if you want to discuss this I will discuss it outside this office please.” you tell him

“Okay then, follow me.” he says 

“What? Now?” 

“I want to solve this right now if it’s okay.”

“The race starts in 30 minutes.” you say 

“It will take less than 30 minutes, follow me” he says 

Both you and Toto walk in the motorhome before he manages to open a door at the end of the hallway. You climb off the stairs and you reach a place somewhere in between a wall and a closed section of the motorhome. 

“Speak” he says 

“Bossy much ?” you ask

“Yes, now please tell me how did the whole Cynthia thing reoccur after yesterday morning?” 

“Don’t tell me you don’t know.” you tell him

“I do not have a clue.” he says 

“You don’t have a clue about inviting her here?” 

“Who?” 

“Yesterday you made me do a paddock tour to a group of people.”

“Yes, they were the Ritz employees, I am aware of that”

“So you are aware that Cynthia Jones was proudly here watching F1 and enjoying qualifying with a VIP pass right?” 

“I was not.” he says and honestly he seems like he’s telling the truth. 

“You didn’t see her in the garage?” you ask

“Well, believe it or not I do not see everyone who is in the garage.” 

“You didn’t invite her ?” 

“Nope.” 

“She said that she got her invitation right after her shift ended. And her shift ended after you saw her.”

“I was aware that they were going to be here. Just not the names of who was coming. The hotel management was supposed to do a draw and pick 5 people to join us as a gift. It’s part of our contract.” he replies

“So you didn’t know she was coming?” 

“I am going to say no once again.” he says “You can search my messages if you want to.” he says as he hands you his phone. 

“I trust you.” you tell him and you hand him his phone back 

“After all I am not that big of an asshole to invite an ex fling and then sleep with you the next morning.” 

“Don’t you dare do this again.” 

“Invite people or sleep with you?” 

“Oh Wolff fuck off.” you joke

“With you, gladly.” he replies

“Shhh” you tell him 

“You are not going to shut me up this way.” he says and then looks at you “Also take off this goddamn mask now that no one can see us, I am tired of seeing you with it.” 

You take of your mask and smile at him

“You’re sure that no one can see us here right?” you ask and he nods. 

You lean on him and kiss him, catching him off guard. He returns the kiss as he smiles in it .

“I am sorry, Wolff. I won’t overreact about Cynthia again.”

“It’s alright Horner.” he tells you. 

“The race starts in 15, should we go?” 

“Let’s go.” he says and both of you walk back to the garage and your usual places. 

At the start of the race both Lewis and George start off well, keeping their initial positions with Max lurking just behind George. Standing next to Toto, you have access to everything on his computer so you see lap by lap each and every thing you’ve learned to look for in order to plan a strategy in your head. When things get tough and Max gets behind Lewis in P2 your brain is running as fast as it can. The Mercedes strategists are proposing possible pit stop strategies based on the data that they have. However they don’t know one thing that you do. As an executive at Red Bull you have to be aware of code phrases over the team radio, which to be honest can’t be forgotten in a day. So as you’re seeing in the data Lewis is trying to manage his tires and you hear the message “Okay Max, it seems like we are going for a one stopper here.” , you feel the bells ringing in your head. 

The “It seems like” phrase is a code name for doing exactly the opposite that the phrase says so you are 100% sure that they are going for a two stopper in order to win. Something that Mercedes has done countless times. 

Toto had told you earlier that if you want to intervene you can press the button and speak but he thought that you wouldn’t be crazy enough to actually do it. When you crack the code of the Red Bull strategy you immediately press the button saying strategy and speak. 

“Red Bull is going for a two stopper.” you say and Toto looks at you with his eyes wide open. “In about 5 to 10 laps they are going to be back on the softs to chase us. I would suggest pitting Lewis for a second time, turning the engine up and trying to chase him.” 

“Are you sure?” he asks

“The “It seems like” is the key phrase Toto. Please let Lewis know. ” you tell him

“Okay. Do what she said. I am waiting for your calculations. Get back at me in two minutes.” he says while pressing the strategy button 

“Thank you.” he says. 

Later on it seems like Red Bull is caught off guard by Mercedes’ move and they try saving it as well as they can but they fail. At the end of the race the checkered flag is out and Lewis wins the grand prix in Jeddah. 

“Yes boys, come on. Amazing strategy” says Lewis through the radio as everyone in the garage is celebrating. George finishes P2. 

“Thank you for the amazing drive Lewis.” says Toto 

“Get in there Lewis!” says Bono through the radio. 

Toto turns to you and says thank you while he’s off to congratulate the other team members. After Lewis gives his post race interview to Naomi Schiff, you storm off to the pitlane to watch the podium ceremony. Max is also there and he seems a bit disappointed by his streak of P3’s during the season, but you’re barely worried. Right now you are celebrating about Lewis and George. You take your phone out and snap a picture or two. After the champagne opens and the trophies are given you go back to your office and lock yourself there once again. You’re hearing all the congratulations from people in the hospitality center and you sit on the office couch feeling that happiness and euphoria of winning. You haven’t spoken to anyone since the race ended but you are now just laying there happy. A long time after, you hear a knock on the door. You’re sure it’s Toto since the race debrief and the interviews must have ended by now. You ask who it is though.

“It’s Lewis. Can you please open up?” he says and you freeze, stopping dead in your tracks. You put on your mask and you open the door. 

“Oh my god Lewis hi. Congratulations on your win.” you tell him

“Thank you Mindy. It’s Mindy right?” he asks 

“Yes it is.” you tell him

“And you’re a Daimler intern?” 

“I am yes.” 

“Can you please take off your mask so that I can remember your face?” he asks and at this point you are pretty sure he knows that you’re not who you say you are. 

“I am sorry but I am at great risk, I don’t want to get COVID or anything.” you tell him trying to avoid the situation. 

“Don’t worry, I am wearing masks and I also tested negative this morning, so you can take it off.” 

“Is it okay if I don’t want to?” you tell him

“Yes it is.” he says and he turns to face the door, finally going to leave. “We will be outside celebrating the 1-2 with the team, it will be amazing if you come, even for the picture.” 

“I am not sure I have to be there.” 

“I know you had something to do with that win, this strategy didn’t make itself Horner.” he says and you freeze as you register how he called you. 

“Excuse me?” you tell him 

“Next time that you fight with Toto, don’t do it outside my driver’s room Horner.” he says. “I know what happened between you two, I saw you without your mask and I saw you kissing my Team principal, there’s no denying.”

“Shit. Toto said no one could see us.” 

“I could see you but Toto thought I would be at the grid by then when I clearly wasn’t.” 

“I am sorry. You can’t say this to anyone.” you tell him

“I don’t plan to, I just find it funny that you switched teams.” he says

“Yeah, I had to because my dad’s an asshole.” 

“Okay, now you get what everyone’s saying right?” he laughs

“Yeap.” 

“You should come outside, let’s celebrate. You earned this victory as much as I did. Plus I want to have you in the picture. You can wear your mask.” he says and he extends his hand to make you stand up from the couch. 

“Okay” you say and you walk with him 

“Oh and by the way, Wolff is heads over heels for you, I am pretty sure he’s liked you for a long time and he hasn’t stopped thinking about you. That Cynthia thing is completely bullshit.”

“Really?” you ask him and he nods smiling. 

Both of you walk outside to celebrate that amazing day with your amazing achievements. Mercedes really feels like home for you. Toto’s eyes light up when he sees you outside, in between the mix of employees. He stands by your side for the photos and then all of the team starts playing with champagne. It’s a really great night in the desert that makes up for the craziness of the weekend which makes you relax ahead of the new week coming up. 

[bellaxgiornata]

This week's update news:

I am in the process of giving Safe Haven a little makeover with a new banner and story divider (I changed it up a little from the last one I shared). Hoping to give y'all the next chapter for this one maybe next week.

The second and final part of If We’re Being Honest is finally fully edited! I'll be updating that fic either Monday or Tuesday.

The second chapter of my Frank Castle fic Neighbors is almost written! So hopefully in another day or two I'll have a rough draft ready.

Matt is still MIA in my head for those who read the internal dialogue I posted this morning (found here.) Though I'm pretty sure now his problem is that he needs a little emotional hurt/comfort or some fluff to make up for all the angst I've been piling onto him recently. Not sure if this will result in a new one shot or if I can work it into one of the fics I have for him... I don't think he'll cooperate for me otherwise because he's absolutely silent right now.

[angelhotchner]

roze & twine

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Style: Multi-part Fic Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x [named] Fem!Reader [non-descriptive OC] Timeline: Post ep100 Fic Content: Pining, eventual friends to lovers, smut Chapter Warnings: None

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Prologue

Everyone had their own outlet. Morgan loved to renovate houses - he was on his sixth property now, each one different from the others but all built with the same fervour: every wall holding secrets of the sight of the agent breaking down, letting his anger leave him, allowing hope to enter his soul once again. Garcia had literally everything. Knitting, ukulele, clay models - you name it, Penelope had tried it and created something adorably loud and vibrant, then displayed it in her cave if she could. The goodness of the world penetrated the disgust and heartbreak that she saw on her screens every day and it kept her outlook fresh. Reid was similar to Garcia...his interests were seemingly endless, but specific. As long as it was knowledge that he hadn’t gained yet, he was interested in it. Magic seemed to be his number one though - if it had been a particularly bad week, he’d arrive on Monday morning with a set of new tricks he’d learned. Prentiss...she had weekends away. No-one really knew what she was doing, although JJ had the best idea, but she always came back refreshed and focused. Her outlet usually landed her in Atlanta for two days - that’s all she’d ever given away to the team. JJ had her family - most importantly, Henry’s Sunday soccer games. Watching her son run around the field, dribbling the ball between his feet with his little face scrunched in concentration warmed her heart so much that she could forget the week she’d just had and the week that was waiting for her the next day.

Hotch shared the same outlet - his son was the light of his life and the only thing that really kept him going. Raising his son in the shadow of his passed wife was a hard feat, but when the little guy said something so pure and innocent it touched Hotch’s heart deeper than he’d let on, pulling the dark clouds in his mind away for a little while. Rossi had company. Whether it was hosting a dinner party for old time friends or enjoying himself at another charity banquet, he found solace in the people around him and their stories. Meeting new faces, listening to their own wisdom - it granted him a better outlook on life, a more peppered perspective on the world. The team teased that his outlet was finding another wife, but they knew that Rossi had almost given up hope on marrying again. Harris had bracelets. Seriously. Ever since third grade queen Lola Grey had taught her how to braid tiny strings of wool and what the best colour combinations for beads were, Harris was obsessed...even when Lola rejected the bracelet that she’d spent hours creating for her. When Lola’s friends threw it into the muddy puddles on the playground and laughed, Harris saw that as a challenge to do better. That kind of thinking followed her as she grew up, straight into the FBI Academy and into the hands of the Behavioural Analysis Unit. Never quit, do better.

It was no surprise that this case had taken a toll on her. The unsub had suffered the same upbringing as her - the only difference was their responses to it. Harris had channeled all of her hurt and frustration into making her life better, the unsub had channeled his into ending other lives. She had been the one to know the most, to understand him the best, and ultimately tackle him into an arrest with just a small scratch on the side of her cheek. Now, she sat quietly at the back of the plane, her hands twirling and knotting the burgundy yarn until it began to take shape. She didn’t need to look down and concentrate, the muscle memory of her fingers took over as she gazed out of the window. Hotch glanced over. He studied her face for a few seconds, ready to focus his attention back to the file in front of him but his eyes drifted down to her hands, catching the movement. He watched with curious amusement, flickering his gaze between her face and her hands, noticing how her eyes seemed to droop a little further with every twist of the wool. Her shoulders were beginning to relax, her mind becoming easy. He smiled gently, although he wasn’t sure why, and turned his attention back to the paperwork. “Aaron Hotchner, did you just smile?” Hotch’s cheeks felt flushed as he dipped his head slightly, realising he’d been caught out. Of course he had. Harris never missed anything. He raised his head and looked at her, finding her still twirling the wool but looking directly at him. Her cheeks were lifted with a small smirk, her eyes shining with devilment. She seemed cool and mischievous, but Harris’ mind was freaking out like a teenage girl. Hotch just smiled at you, she thought. For no reason. He never smiles. He smiled at you. He cares...no, no. Hotch doesn’t care about you like that. Maybe it wasn’t a good smile. Maybe he was laughing at you. The bracelets. He thinks you’re childish. He- “It happens,” He shrugged, knocking Harris from being locked in a battle of her own thoughts. “Your work on this case was exemplary, Roze,” She felt giddy with hearing the praise, but maintained her cool expression. “Thanks, Hotchy,” The nickname awarded her with another small smile. Hotch wasn’t sure when she started calling him that, but he welcomed the playful nature. He knew he shouldn’t be revelling in the fact that she hadn’t given any of the other team members a nickname, it probably didn’t even much to her, but he savoured the idea of being someone that stood out more than anyone else to her. She nodded at him and turned back towards the window, her brain dangerously close to overdrive. God damn praise kink. ══ ⋆☆⋆ ══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════ ⋆☆⋆ ══

[assortedseaglass]

The Seamstress & The Sailor- Chapter Four

Tom Bennett x OFC

[Masterlist]

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 4.3K

Note: I know I said this chapter would link up with the series, but that will be the next chapter now – I didn’t want Tom getting in trouble with the police to be so sudden. I hope you don’t mind! More detailed notes at the end!

August 1939

Monday morning, two days since the dancehall, and the street was alive with activity. Two women were pushing prams along the pavement, a chatter of children following in their wake. Satchels of schoolbooks swung at their sides, and a few of the little boys already looked ready for playtime. Some of the older women were beating rugs over chairs, making the most of the early morning sun, and Dennis Warley had just been by with the morning post.

Outside the Vaughn’s house, Cora was seated on an upturned bucket from the yard, polishing a pair of her father’s shoes. Bess sat on the bottom step, reading her newly delivered fashion magazine. Dot peered over her shoulder.

“That one,” Dot pointed to a buttercup yellow tea dress. “Could you make it for me?”

“I could,” Bess puffed out a stream of cigarette smoke. “If you buy the fabric.” She flipped the page and Dot huffed.

“Do you know how much most girls pay to have dresses made by Bess, Dot?” Cora said, not looking up from her work.

“Not enough,” said Dot.

“Amen.” Bess shut the magazine and handed it to her younger sister. At that moment, Fergal appeared in the doorway, plate of bacon and eggs in hand. He stepped, with socked feet, between his daughters and sat on the step.  

“What are you up to today, Bess?” He said through a mouthful of breakfast.

“Going over to Robina Chase’s, that suit of hers is finished.”

“You watch yourself on the roads, my girl.”

“Yes, dadda.”

Footsteps thundered down the stairs and a second later, the long legs of Albie Vaughn were stepping over his sisters too. “Double, double, toil and trouble,” he teased. Dot pretended to put a curse on him as he crossed the street and knocked on the Bennett’s door. Bess watched him curiously. He didn’t usually fetch Lois in the mornings.

“There you go, dadda.” Cora passed Fergal his shoes, which he slipped on as he handed his plate to Bess. The Bennett’s door opened, and Albie exited with Tom trailing behind him. Fergal went to join them.

“Dadda said he’d got Tom a shift at the dockyard,” sniffed Dot. “Good to see he’s got him some honest work.” Bess and Cora raised their eyebrows at Dot’s air of superiority and smirked at each other. Just as she looked to the three men, Bess caught Tom’s eye. Her cheeks prickled with anxiety but she didn’t let her nerves show. Besides, he wouldn’t be able to see from his side of the street. Instead, she stared him down. Tom watched her a moment, then smirked. Bastard. Fergal clapped him on the shoulder and the three men began their way to the dockyard.

“See you later, girls!” Fergal and Albie waved behind them. Tom Bennett swaggered forward, staring resolutely ahead.

 “Ah, here she is!” Lois appeared at the doorway, tucking a stray curl under her scarf.

“Ready?” She called. Cora and Dot stood.

“We’ll be back around 6, ta-ra!” Cora kissed Bess on the cheek, and she, Lois and Dot made their way to the factory. Up ahead, the men were just rounding the corner, and Bess could have sworn she saw Tom cast a sideways glance in her direction. They hadn’t spoken since Saturday night. Not that the chance had been given; the curtains of his bedroom remained shut and Lois said he was nursing a hangover and an almighty bollocking from Douglas.

“Can’t imagine your dad raising his voice,”

“It’s Tom we’re talking about Bess,”

There hadn’t been a moment to forget about the night either, for the next morning it was all Dot could talk about.

“And then Tom told me to go inside so I went to find Cora and Bess but heard this sound like a gunshot and that black-haired man that Bess had been dancing with was on the floor and then then Tom hit the other two before punching the man-”

“Breathe, Dot,”

“-and I went and got Albie and him and Lois’ fella pulled Tom off them. You’ll never guess what Tom did next, dadda. He spat on him! Tom spat on that poor man!”

When the police arrived at the Bennett’s, searching for Tom, Dot had nearly screamed. Fergal shook his head.

“Can’t the police leave us alone on a Sunday?”

“Don’t think crime has Sundays off, dadda.” Albie said.

That night, when Bess was finishing her final checks of Mrs Chase’s suit and the rest of her family were in bed, she saw Tom climbing the drainpipe outside his and Lois’ room. She had half a mind to go and tell Douglas until she saw Tom shimmy back down the drainpipe and bolt away. Bess wasn’t going to break first. She wasn’t some girl he could charm with a flash of his smile and a quick fumble at the back of the picture house, and if he didn’t know it yet then God help Tom Bennett.

*

Gravel popped under Bess’ bicycle wheels as she pushed it up the Chase’ drive. Robina Chase was a client of the Manchester atelier. When she discovered that one of the girls who trained there lived nearby, she had ceased her journeys into the city and had Bess attend her personally. She never came to the Vaughns, like most of Bess’ clients. No, each time she insisted that Bess come to her.

Bess looked up at the enormous house. On her street, some families were crammed seven or eight into a two-bedroom house. In their own home, the Vaughn’s had five. Here, it was just Robina and Harry. Still, nothing could make Bess swap their cramped home for the halls of the Chase’s. Each time she stepped through the door a chill descended on her, no matter if it was midwinter or midsummer. The door opened before Bess could reach it.

“I saw you coming.” Robina said curtly. Bess opened her mouth to speak, but Mrs Chase was already walking towards her lounge. The spacious room was the lightest in the house and best, therefore, for Bess to do her work. Someone had brought down a silk screen from Mrs Chase to change behind and when Bess entered the room, this was where she was, clothes laid on a chaise lounge and, stood in her cotton chemise. Everything that Bess used to visit Mrs Chase had to be portable and light enough to strap onto her bicycle, and so, she took out the foldable tailor’s platform that her father had made her and placed it on the ground. Mrs Chase stepped onto it and watched Bess continue unloading her things. She said nothing. When Bess held up the red suit for her to examine, she simply said “Lovely,” and pursed her lips. For half an hour, Bess added the final touches to the suit; taking the hem up a centimetre, adding a little embellished stitching along the collar.

“I’m off to see the boys before I go,” a knock sounded and Harry Chase, with his weary eyes and boyish charm, appeared at the lounge door. “You look lovely, mother. Oh, hello again.”

Robina was waving off his compliment when she stopped. “You know each other?”

“We met at a dance,”

“Mm, well, don’t be home late or drunk. I shan’t wait up.” She turned back to Bess, whom Harry nodded to before leaving. When the front door slammed and the car engine kicked into life, so did Robina Chase. “Harry told me he stopped a fight at the dance on Saturday.”

“That he did,” Bess said, still looking over the garment to make sure everything was in order.

“No doubt over some woman.”

“I don’t know what is was about,” Bess grew quiet, and Robina continued.

“Who was the man? Do you know?”

At this, Bess stilled her work and hesitated. “Tom Bennett, ma’am.” She said quietly.

“Bennett? He’s not related to that Lois girl, is he?” There was a definite air of disdain in Mrs Chase’s voice and Bess fought hard to control herself. We need the money, we need the money, we need her money.

“Her brother, ma’am.”

“Well, with her spending the night in a cell it only makes sense that her brother is the very same. I met that father of theirs, Dougal?”

“Douglas,”

“Quiet as a dormouse and mad as a March-hare. No wonder his children are so wayward. And I can’t imagine living in Longsight helps, amongst all those ruffians. You’d think modern Britain would be rid of slums but here we are.”

Bess wanted to stick her pin in the papery flesh of Mrs Chase’s thigh. She resolved, however, to walk back to her sewing box and place it neatly with its fellows. “All done.”

“It’s lovely, thank you. It was £5 for the remainder, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Bess took the cheque from Mrs Chase and began strapping her tools to the bicycle.

“I’ll be in touch soon with some ideas for the spring. A new decade surely brings new fashions.” Her ignorance was astounding. Her son was back from war torn Poland, about to go back, and news of Hitler’s plans for the rest of Europe was spreading like wildfire. Not to mention what she thought of the poor.

“If I may say something, ma’am,” Bess took a shaky breath. She could count the people that scared her on one hand. One was stood in front of her, perfectly manicured fingers waiting to close the door, eyebrow raised in challenge. “I can’t make excuses for Tom’s behaviour, but no-one could ask for a kinder confident or supporter than Lois. And I mean no-one. Rich or poor, kind or cruel, she’ll look after you. And as for Douglas, he is one of the gentlest men I’ve ever known and we’re lucky to have him as our neighbour. Yes, our neighbour. He’s been a great friend to our father.” She swung her leg over her bike as Robina stood a little higher and haughtier. “Make sure to tell your friends the new suit was by a “ruffian” of Longsight. See you in the spring.” She pedalled away before Mrs Chase could raise her snobbish voice in argument.

*

By the time Bess had cycled the hour from Mrs Chase’s to Longsight, the summer dress she wore was soaked in sweat. Leaving the bike outside, she dumped her tools on the kitchen table and ran upstairs. Stripping down to her underwear, she filled a bowl with cold water, opened the window of her room and let the curtain down. Cora and Dot would thank her when they got back from the sweltering heat of the factory. Grabbing a flannel, she dipped it in the cold water and ran it over her body. Goosebumps rose across Bess’ skin and she sighed. Hair tied in a loose knot, held in place with one of her mother’s silk scarves, Bess held the flannel against her neck. She squeezed it in her palm and let the droplets fall down her back. In the breeze, the net curtain shuddered and brushed against her skin. She looked through the window. Their bedroom faced Lois and Tom’s. As children, Lois, Cora and Dot would wave to each other and commune in their own secret language. When they had gone to sleep, or first thing when they hadn’t woken, Bess and Tom would hold their palms to the windows. They never did anything else, and they certainly didn’t talk about it in the day.

Dressing in a light blouse and yellow skirt of linen, Bess padded barefoot downstairs and opened the front door, before retreating to the kitchen and doing the same to the yard door. Cool air filled the little house. Back in the kitchen, at the foot of the stairs, was the piano. Bess lifted the lid protecting the keys and sat at the stool. A photograph of her great-aunt Iris sat proudly atop the upright. Her face was gentle, white hair pulled back, a shawl draped round her shoulders. The eldest of five, Iris held dreams of becoming a great concert pianist, but her family couldn’t afford to continue her lessons once more children came along. She worked as a parlour maid from fourteen to save her own money and, at seventeen, bought a ticket to London. Feigning sickness, she caught the early train from Manchester and within hours found herself at the steps of the Royal Academy of Music. Iris had written her own application with the help of a kind woman from central library and was invited to audition. She played a programme of Liszt, Chopin and Rachmaninov for the admissions board and had impressed them with her sight-reading skills. She was back in Manchester in time for supper. When a letter bearing the academy’s emblem arrived two weeks later, Iris pocketed it in her apron and ran to the yard to open it. She’d never know such a fleeting whisper of joy as this again, for below her congratulation of acceptance, were the academy’s fees. Iris Vaughn lived the rest of her days teaching, playing piano on Saturdays for the cinema’s afternoon showing.

Bess had no dreams of becoming a concert pianist, but she intended to forge her own path. For herself, and for great-aunt Iris. Kissing her fingers then touching Iris’ photograph, Bess began to play. A few Bach preludes to warm up. Iris loved them. Rigid and mathematical, they were beautiful in their ornamentation and meandering grandeur. As her fingers danced over the keys, she thought about how Bach managed this feat of emotional engineering within such a confined structure. Rigidity, confined structures. Suddenly, Mrs Chase’s pursed lips and flared nostrils entered her mind. The music stopped. Bloody bitch. Bess moved to the jazz standards; My Funny Valentine, One O’Clock Jump, Frenesi, On the Sunny Side of the Street. Surely Mrs Chase hates jazz, it’s something Harry likes.

Bess played for an hour or so, lulling herself into a waking dream. The breeze cooled her calves, the sounds of the piano drifting with it into the street and, occasionally, the peal of a child’s laughter reminded Bess that she was in her family kitchen, not the Ritz. The scent of cigarette smoke from the street beyond gave Bess pause and she grabbed the packet hidden in the cutlery drawer, the packet Cora thought no-one knew about. Cigarette lit, she played a little Joplin in honour of Iris before the sun fell behind a cloud and the breeze turned from calming to crisp. Bess near skipped out of the kitchen and to the front door, such was the affect of an hour’s playing to alleviate her mood, but her steps came to an abrupt halt as she rounded the door into the hallway. A man was sat on the front step, collar up against the chill, a plume of cigarette smoke rising into the early evening sky, the effect making his blond head look alight. He turned slowly round, cigarette held loftily between his thin lips.

“Don’t stop playing on my account,” he grinned.

“You’re back early.” Bess folded her arms and stood firm in the hallway.

“Your dad and Albie have taken an extra shift.” He stretched is arms in an exaggeration of tiredness. “Besides, I don’t think labouring is for me.”

Bess gripped the door. “Right, well, if you could move, you’re letting in a draft.” He did as he was told and stood from the step but as Bess moved to swing shut the door, he placed a boot between it and the frame.

“Bess.” An edge of desperation lined his voice.

“Tom.” Hers was weary.

“Bess. That man was a prick, and if I hadn’t sorted him out some other bloke would have. But,” he placed his palm on the door and pushed it open a little, revealing Bess to him fully. “But I am sorry for what I said to you. You didn’t deserve that.” She scanned his face. The smirk had gone and his usually bright eyes were solemn, but all Bess could to do was nod and rapidly blink back tears. Tom stepped away from the door and allowed her to close it.

I’m not jealous of a bloke who dances with the only girl who doesn’t say no because she doesn’t say anything at all.

Her eyes stung, and she flicked away a tear before it had the chance to fall. Cora and Dot would be back from work soon, and they couldn’t know she’d been crying over Tom Bennett. Even if he had broken her heart a little. All those years she thought Tom hadn’t seen her as a freak or recluse. An oddity worthy of stares and ridicule. With one fell strike, he had proved she was wrong.

The evening passed quickly. In a heavy-hearted haze, Bess made soup and sandwiches for the Vaughn’s supper. Cora and Dot were exhausted when they returned from the factory. A long day in the oppressive heat of the factory had worked up an almighty appetite in both of them, though they could barely lift their spoons. They retreated to the cool of their bedroom at 8.30. Bess sat in the dim of the kitchen, the comfort of her father’s armchair easing her unrest a little. She stood when he and Albie arrived home, but he waved her down, kissed her cheek and took a plate of sandwiches to his room.

“What’s happened, Bess?”

“Hm?” She looked up from her perch by the hearth. Albie stood in the door to the hallway, dishevelled and ready for rest. The middle Vaughn children were closest in age and closest in mind. She didn’t begrudge it of Cora and Dot; Cora had to bear too much responsibility for the family, and Bess would not steal Dot’s youth from her. But she sometimes imagined that she and Albie were connected by an invisible string the others didn’t have. When one felt sad, elated and anything in between, the other felt the tugging of the string that had hooked itself neatly beneath their ribs.

“What’s happened?” Albie repeated.

“Oh nothing,” Bess reached for her book and glass of whisky. “Was over at the Chase’s this afternoon.”

“Ah, say no more,” Albie smiled but his gaze lingered on his sister, and she knew that he didn’t believe her. “Night, Bess.”

“Night, Albie.” She listened as he trudged up the stairs and shut the door to the room he shared with their father. Bess opened her book but instead of reading, stared into the empty room around her. The light outside turned from fuchsia pink to ashen blue and, just as she finished the last sip of her drink, she heard the patter of running footsteps on the street outside. Any moment now, the door would click open, Tom would smile boyishly at her and settle himself on the end of the kitchen table. He always did hang around a little more after they had argued. Bess waited for his shadow at the window. Breath hitched in anticipation, she edged to the hallway and watched the door. Now. The door handle would turn and he’d appear.

The night was quiet. The faintest snuffled snoring from upstairs punctuated Bess’ breathing. The door didn’t open. Bess hurried to the kitchen window and pulled back the netting to see a leg disappear through Tom’s window. He didn’t close it.

*

Next day, Bess had no clients. After making breakfast for the working members of her family, she cycled to the dockyard. There was something about the hum of industry sidled up to the crashing water, and the canal leading to the sea beyond it, that thrilled Dot. She spied Albie and her father ascending cranes to deliver goods. Sure enough, Tom was not with them. As the sun continued to rise in the sky, the heat along with it, Bess retreated home. Turning into the street, Douglas Bennett passed her on his on cycle and touched a finger to his cap.

“Morning!” She called to him. Leaving her bike where Douglas’ would have been minutes before, Bess rapped on the Bennett’s door. No answer. Lois would, of course, be at work with Cora and Dot. She tested the handle. It opened.

“It’s rude to just walk into someone’s house without being invited.” Tom was slouching down the stairs, pulling a shirt over his head. The pale skin of his abdomen drew Bess’ eye and she blushed a little, looking down so that her hair fell forward to cover her shame.

“You do it often enough at ours.”

By way of an answer, Tom lit two cigarettes and handed one to her. As he did so, she saw the smattering of red cuts across his fingers. They were small, like little paper cuts, and certainly hadn’t been there yesterday. She looked to his other hand. He was covered in them.

“Better get them sorted or they’ll get infected.” Bess nodded to his hand. He merely shrugged, picked some bacon out of the pan Lois had left on the stove and wandered into the sunlit back yard. Bess took the pan from the stove and filled the sink with hot water. Lois, like Cora, needed any help she could get when it came mothering her family. Once the pan was washed, Bess filled a pitcher with warm water. Rooting around in the cupboards, she found a bottle of Douglas’ whisky.

“Sorry, Douglas.” With a clean cloth, bandage, the whisky and pitcher of water, Bess pushed open the yard door with her foot and sat by Tom. His head was leant against the brick of the house, exposing the lean muscle of his neck. The cigarette in his mouth was barely lit, and he pursed his lips to puff it into life. Bess watched the smoke unfurl in the air and caught site of his shadow against the wall. Sharp, harsh and angular. He looked like a Roman statue. Not one of a great emperor, mind. One of those spoilt man-childs that fucked their way around Rome before dying of syphilis. Bess snorted as she sat on the bench beside him. Tom eyed her sideways.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Bess took his hand in hers, soaked the cloth in the water and brought it to his knuckles. “So, where were you last night?”

“Met a girl down Belle Vue,” Bess hummed to at least sound interested, but she had no inclination to hear about his conquests. Now his hand was clean, she dabbed a little whisky on the cloth. “Showed her a real ride, if you know what I mean.” His wink turned into a grimace when Bess pressed the alcohol into his cuts. “Steady on.”

“Where did these come from?”

“Got them working down the dockyard,” he sniffed. His nose always wrinkled when he was lying, or annoyed. Bess caught his eye as it darted to the end of the yard. Looking down the little garden, she saw a pile of scrap metal hidden under an old dust sheet. She didn’t let on that she’d seen.

“At least you’ll get no more cuts, now you’ve retired from hard labour.” She took out the bandage and began rolling it around his hand. “What are you gonna do now?”

Tom watched Bess at work. “Ah, you know me. I’ll find my way around.” She hummed and, as she tied the bandage, instinctively brought it to her mouth where she kissed his open palm. Fuck. Bess could feel heat rising up her neck, every muscle tensing. The opposite happened to Tom, who huffed a laugh. They spoke in unison.

“Sorry, I always did it to Dot when she hurt herself.”

“If you wanted to kiss me, you could just ask.”

They froze.

Tom’s bandaged hand closed around Bess’.

Her eyes flickered to the smirk slowly disappearing from Tom’s face. He licked his lips.

“Hiya!”

Just like at the dancehall, Tom dropped Bess’ hand faster than Queenie Warren’s knickers, and knocked on the window that adjoined the yard to the sitting room.

“Out here, Lois!” Tom turned back to the yard. The door leading to the narrow alley behind the house was swinging shut, a flash of copper hair disappearing behind it.

Note: Hello pals! Just a note to say that I (finally) caught Covid, and there has been a huge ecological disaster where I am from. Not being able to go back and help due to having Covid is really hurting and I’m feeling pretty weary. That being said, I am hoping that writing this will keep me going, though if updates take longer that’ll be why.

£5 in 1939 is about £250 in today’s money, and Belle Vue (Tom references it when he’s in the Paris hospital) is an area not far from Longsight that had an amusement park and zoo. The jazz standards that Bess plays on the piano were all released in 1939 or before, have a listen if you’ve never heard them! My great-great aunt Ida (!) was a pianist for silent films and I think that’s just the coolest job ever, she’s the inspiration behind Iris. Shout out to @myfandomprompts for the amazing gif!

I’m not particularly happy with this chapter, I know I said I wanted a slow build but crikey. It’ll pick up in the next few chapters. We all know what’s coming…

Tags: @aemonds-wifey @multiple-fandoms-girl @jessssica1234 @babyblue711 @anditsmywholeheart @allthefandomtherapy @valerie977 @bookwyrmsblog @phantomontheinternet @chainsawsangel @greenowlfactif @thelittleswanao3 @yentroucnagol @sophielangdonx

[harknessxo]

Chapter VIII ✦ Calm Before The Storm

Paring: Rhea Ripley x Dominik Mysterio

Summary: Rhea and Dom have a moment again.

Warnings; a bit of smut

Word Count: 4.5k

Playlist

Masterlist

A/n: Sorry I took so long, I forgot to post this chapter 😭

The airport was a bit busy on a Sunday night as most of the passengers that arrived just now were already taking their bags and going home. Among the crowd, Finn, Damian, Dominik, Solo, and Jimmy were waiting as they all looked around for any signs of Roman and Rhea. Days have passed since the duo had left for South Carolina for the events that they were asked to assist, and now, they were finally returning back home.

“Uce just texted,” Jimmy called out as he looked at his phone. “Said that he’s already grabbing his bag. They’re gonna be here in a minute.”

“Good, cuz I’m starving.” Finn said as he sighed while he looked at the time. “Would it be a good time to hit the bar and get a quick bite?”

“I don’t see why not, but we can’t be drinking tonight. Monday Night Raw’s tomorrow and we gotta be ready.” Damian commented. “Especially with Rhea and Roman who are now back.”

“True.”

Dominik then perked up when he got a text notification from his phone. He dug his hand inside his pocket as he opened the message. It was Rhea.

‘Just grabbed my suitcase. See you in a bit. 🖤’

Dominik smiled, excited that he’ll get to have his Mami back. Soon Rhea and Roman could be seen in the swarm of people getting out the gate. He ran towards her and picked her up into a hug which she returned.

“I missed you Mami.”

“I know Dom Dom, I missed you too,” Rhea said before pulling Dominik into a sweet kiss. Roman could only watch from afar in jealousy.

However before anyone would notice (with the exception of Solo, who instantly noticed his expression the moment Rhea and Dom kissed), Jimmy had come up to him with a huge grin. “Hey Uce!”

“Hey,” Roman suddenly said, his cousin giving him a small pat on the shoulder.

“Yo, how did it go? Everything good?”

“Yeah… yeah, definitely.” Roman nodded as the group walked away from the airport and into the parking area.

“We saw the meet and greet pics, too.” Finn commented as the group made their way to the car while Damian opened up the trunk of the car. “How did that go for you guys?”

“You know, the usual.” Rhea was the first to comment as Dom helped her put her suitcase inside the trunk. “The fans were excited when they saw us too, we tried to get as many pictures as possible with many of them.”

“Would’ve been better if we were there, am I right Dom?”

“I don’t know man, I mean, Rhea can tell you that.”

At the comment, Rhea chuckled. “Yeah- it would’ve been better if you guys were with us. You missed a whole lot.”

“Yeah, I assumed so.” Damian stated as Dom closed the trunk of the car.

“Come on, come on guys, I’m hungry, let’s go!” Finn urged as the others began to get in the car. Damian was the last one before he saw Roman, Solo, and Jimmy from the other side getting in their car as well.

He swore he saw Reigns suddenly look away the second he looked in their direction.

At that, he didn’t say anything before he got inside and began to drive off.

The group stopped by the bar inside the hotel to eat some dinner, with Finn being the one paying for their meals as they all sat down and waited for their food. As they did, Rhea took the opportunity to get her suitcase back to her room while Dom accompanied her. Once the two were gone, Damian and Finn were left chatting.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait… I thought we agreed not to talk about it anymore.” Finn said as Damian made a face before he spoke.

“We did… but listen here,” The taller male began. “Even Solo himself said that after the entire thing blew over, Roman still hasn’t stopped going after Rhea lately.”

“What, just because he stares at her every chance he gets? Damian, Rhea now knows her boundaries and she’s learned her lesson. She’s trying to fix things with Dom too, especially now.” The Irish male told him as he looked around to make sure no one was listening before he kept speaking. “I mean sure, they were away for five days alone, but come on now. Knowing Rhea, I can guarantee you that nothing happened between them during that time.”

“Look dawg, I don’t know.” Damian mumbled. “And this is the second time I’m going to question her but… I hope that you’re right on this one. Because that shit should’ve never happened to begin with.”

“Let’s hope things don’t get out of hand anymore.” Finn mumbled, taking a sip from his glass of water.

Meanwhile, Rhea closed the door behind her as she left her stuff inside her room while Dom waited for her. She then kept her keys in her pocket.

“You got that suitcase from Zelina?” Dom asked her as they both walked down the hallway.

“Yeah, since my dress wouldn’t fit in mine then we decided to switch suitcases.” Rhea told him, folding her hands inside her pockets. “And so? How did everything go while I was gone?”

“It went well, actually.” Dom told her, omitting the fight with Jey. “Well aside from the whole tag title issue—“

“No, no, I don’t mean any of that.” Rhea interrupted him as they paused in their steps. “I meant… how did it go while I wasn’t around?”

Don furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You know, have… have you changed your mind about us?” She mumbled as she faced him, seeking an answer from him.

At that, Dom pondered. He then sighed as he looked down at her and spoke. “Well, I haven’t. Have you?”

“… No. No, I haven’t. Not even for a single second.” She told him softly as she held his hand, her gaze meeting his. “I… I want to continue on with this, Dom. I really do. I want us to move on past everything and go back to how we were.”

A small smile appeared on his face before he held her hand back. “Me too.” He felt her remove her hand away from his only to cup his cheek as her thumb caressed it slightly.

“I missed you, you know?”

“I missed you, too, Mami.”

She smiled warmly before they both shared a kiss, with her cupping his face as he held his hands around her waist.

The elevator doors opened as they shared their moment together, unaware of who was coming out with a neck-pillow that Rhea had accidentally forgotten back at the airport. Somehow it was mistakenly placed inside Roman’s suitcase and when he found it, he realized that it wasn’t his, but Rhea’s.

It was then that he saw the two kissing that he paused in his own tracks

At that moment, he only mentally debated on doing one thing: either just walk away back to his room and give her neck pillow later when she wasn’t occupied, or interrupt them and give it back to her anyways.

And by god, he wanted to do the second option, because at this rate he couldn’t stand watching this sight in front of him.

However, he decided to discard all thought away as he pretended that he was not standing there the entire time as he approached the two and cleared his throat. Causing the two to break away and face him.

“Sorry, excuse me— but, you dropped this back at the airport. I was gonna find you but I couldn’t look for you after we all left, so.” He gave the neck pillow back to Rhea.

At first, Rhea seemed hesitant for a split second before she only nodded and took it from his grasp. “Yeah- thanks,” she mumbled, looking at Roman who had an unreadable expression on his face.

However, he only nodded his head before he turned and walked away and back to his own room.

Rhea could only watch him leave before she shook her head and turned her attention back on Dom, who was witness to the short interaction, though he looked at Rhea with concern.

“Mami? Is everything alright?”

Rhea was silent for a few seconds, before she placed a hand on Dom’s shoulder and looked at him and spoke. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just… it’s been a long flight and I really want to rest.”

“Oh, well, I can go and buy dinner and bring it here if you want. You know, for the both of us.”

At that, Rhea looked at him in surprise. When she did, Dom blinked before he realized what he said as he paused momentarily. “Unless you don’t want to then—“

“No, no, I do, it’s just—“ She blurted out then paused and began to reconsider the thought. “Do you… want to spend the night with me?”

At the question, he looked at her. “Well, I mean, if you want to then—“

“Yes, yes I do.” Rhea replied more confidently without a second thought as she got her keys from her pocket. “It’s been a while anyways—“

“Okay- um, let me just grab a quick bite, do you want anything?”

“No thanks, I’ll be alright.” She reassured him as she unlocked the door. Don nodded as he then went to the elevator to go down the bar to buy his dinner while Rhea waited for him in her room.

Dom had finally arrived at the bar downstairs when he saw Finn and Damian talking and eating before the latter stood up. He watched as Finn nodded at him while he continued eating before he turned and began to leave the bar. When he did, he noticed Dom walking in.

“Hey, all good?” Damian asked him. “Where’s Rhea?”

“She’s resting up, I’m just gonna buy food to go and spend some time with her.” He told him. At that, Damian blinked in surprise before a smile appeared on his face.

Dom realized what this meant as he gave him a look. “Damian, it’s not—“

“Oh no, no,no, chill, no he dicho nada.” He quickly said as he chuckled and patted Dom’s shoulder.

“Look man, I’m just taking things slow with her, okay?” Dom quickly told him as he raised his hands in defense. “We both agree to start all over again after… you know, everything.”

At that, Damian understood. “I get it.” He told him.

“Hey Damian.” Dom began as he seemed to ponder. “… you trust Rhea, right?”

At the question, Damian stood there in confusion as he looked at the younger male before him. “Yeah… yeah, of course I do.” He mumbled as he crossed his arms. “Why? Do you trust her?”

“Yeah- I do, it’s just… I’m worried about her, Damian, you know? After everything that happened…”

“Hey. It’s gonna be alright.” Damian reassured him as they both walked inside the bar back together. “If Rhea asked you for a second chance then it means something. She genuinely cares about you, a lot.”

As he said this, Dom slowly gave a nod as he understood what he meant. “I know, but…”

“Hey. Don’t start getting any doubts, man. The more you do, the less your chances are of fixing things with her.” Damian quickly told him. “Now, I’ll need you to go up there and I’m gonna need both of you to be the Rhea and Dom that I know you guys are. Talk things out, set a plan, rules, anything just that you both can be happy again. Alright?”

“Alright,” Dom smiled, “Thanks man.”

“Don’t mention it.” Damian once again parted his shoulder as Dom ordered his food while Damian began to walk away from the bar.

When he did, he saw the elevator doors open and noticed Roman coming out. He watched as the champion looked around before he walked all the way to the back, right where the pool and lounge area was.

At that moment, Damian pondered as he remembered Solo’s words from days ago. He then looked back at the bar to see that Finn and Dom were talking as Dobm waited for his food before looking back at the direction Roman went. Taking the opportunity, Damian decided to follow him.

He needed to have a chat with Reigns.

“So it’s true? They want the titles to be split?” Roman asked over the phone as he spoke with Paul, sitting on one of the chairs near the pool.

“Yes, my Tribal Chief, but get this,” Paul spoke to him. “I was able to arrange a meeting regarding this after Crown Jewel. It took me a while, but I was able to convince Nick and Pearce regarding this issue, and they will be letting Triple H know about this. Apparently they were supposed to let us know after Crown Jewel, but the issue was that it was never meant to be known to anyone else other than you, the Bloodline, and the Judgement Day. Given that you were the one who gave the authorization to unify the tag titles, you also have a say on this decision. So, basically, both Nick and Pearce want your input before they announce or do anything.”

“Wiseman, let me remind you something. Right now, the Bloodline isn’t the one holding those titles. It's the Judgement Day.” Roman recalled as he shifted in his seat while looking around to make sure no one was listening. “If they want my input on that, it’s going to be a big no.”

“Yes, yes, I understand completely.” Paul quickly agreed. “The thing is that we need to remind them that anything that is being instructed or told to them needs to go through you first. And that’s what they’re not understanding, my Tribal Chief.”

“Exactly. Which is why that meeting is going to happen.” Roman quickly told him. “I don’t give a damn what they think. The next time they want to try and screw the Bloodline and the Judgement Day over, they’re gonna have to go through me first.”

“About that… shouldn’t Miss Ripley also be informed about this too? I mean- yes, you work with her, but she’s technically the leader of the Judgement Day, and with you being the leader of the Bloodline especially with both groups basically unified…”

“I’ll let her know, too. Don’t worry about that. For now, I just need you to make sure Nick and Pearce get the message and not say a single word about the titles until we get to that meeting.” As he said this, Roman saw from the corner of his eye someone approach. He turned his head, noticing it was none other than Damian, and from what he could tell, he wanted to speak to him.

Sighing, Roman turned back to his phone. “We’ll talk more tomorrow. If there’s any updates, shoot me a text. I’ll see you soon.” With that, he hung up, keeping the phone inside his pocket before he stood up as Damian had already approached him.

“Priest,” Roman greeted as he folded his hands inside his pockets. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Yeah, well…” Damian casually spoke as he crossed his arms. “I’m not that tired yet, so I figured I’d stay up for a bit. We need to talk.”

“About what?” Roman asked, curious as to what the other male wanted to discuss.

“Look, I know I already told you to back off from Rhea,” Damian began, “But… I’ve been getting this weird vibe from you lately, especially ever since you both came back from South Carolina. And if I’m being honest, I don’t know how to describe it. But it worries me, because I’m starting to think that you’re not being a man of your word.”

It was only quiet for a few seconds as Roman looked down at first before he rubbed his face as he looked up at Damian, giving his statement to him. “Look, Damian. Like I’ve said before, what happened between me and Ripley was a mistake. And I guarantee you that nothing is going on, at all.”

“Are you telling me the truth?”

“Do you really think I’d be lying to you right now?” Roman asked him.

Damian only stared at him before he began to think of his next choice of words before he spoke. “I’m hoping that you are not. Because right now, we need to focus on what’s going to happen to all of us next.”

“Fine by me. As I said, I only say the truth and the truth only.”

“… alright.”

With that, Damian turned and began to walk away.

“Oh, before I forget,” Roman suddenly called out as Damian paused and turned to him. “I just got off with Paul on the phone. You guys might expect a meeting after Crown Jewel regarding the tag titles.”

“… so the rumors are true?”

“Unfortunately yes,” He explained as he sat back down on his chair. “But I told Paul to let Nick and Pearce know that I told him to not mention anything until that meeting happens. Because they want my input on it and all I’m going to tell them is that they should be advising you guys rather than not saying a word about it to you directly.”

“… but out of curiosity, if it was your input only, would you allow the titles to be split?”

“Hell no.” Roman quickly said, taking a sip from his drink. “I was the one that unified them in the first place. They got unified, so they stay unified, no matter what.”

Damian pondered over his words as he looked at him. Ever since the deal was made, Roman was someone who was more than willing to uplift the Judgement Day, as well as someone who is willing to do whatever it takes to remain on top. Even if it was with the help from his own blood or from the Judgement Day themselves.

And to be fair, Damian would hate to see the deal being off some day. Which is something that he hoped wouldn’t happen.

“I’ll let the others know about this, but if you want, you can let them know too in advance.” Roman told him as he stood and took his empty glass. “I’m gonna rest up. See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah… see you.” Damian mumbled as Roman walked away while he remained alone. He stood there for a few minutes before he suddenly heard a text notification from his phone. Blinking, he got his phone out from his pocket and opened up a certain text message.

He only read it immediately before he then looked around and replied back to the message. Afterwards, he kept the phone in his pocket before he went back inside the hotel, just after agreeing to meet with a certain someone at the bar.

“You guys really killed it on that meet and greet though.” Dom said to Rhea as the two laid down in bed in her room while she showed him several pictures from South Carolina. “How long did you guys have to be there for?”

“Five hours.” Rhea explained to him before he gave her phone back. “Compared to other meet and greets, this one was the longest I’ve been in so far. I’m telling you though, you guys should’ve been there.” She insisted as she took a french fry from his plate and ate it.

At that, he shifted a bit on the bed to face her. “You’re saying that you were bored out there without us?”

“Oh, definitely.” She quickly said as she sat up and her back was leaning against the bed frame. “I felt like I was talking to a brick wall sometimes. Plus, I… honestly missed this.” She mumbled, gesturing at herself and Dom.

At that, Dom gazed at her before he closed up the food container as he stood up and went to put it away. He then came back shortly as he sat down beside her. “I missed this too, and… I wish we do this more often now that we’re fixing this.”

“We will,” she mumbled as she held his hand and gazed at him, “Only if you’re up to it.”

She cupped his cheek as she said this while he leaned against her touch. As he did, Dom gazed at her softly as he also kissed her palm.

Rhea smiled softly at the gesture. However, something in the back of her mind was yelling at her that this reminded her of something- or someone- but she immediately discarded the thought away. She leaned closer before she kissed him, cupping his face as she did so while Dom held an arm around her waist. Dom then pulled Rhea into his lap to straddle him.

“Are you sure you want to keep going, Dom Dom? I know you said you wanted to take things slow.”

“Yes, I want to keep going. I know I said to take it slow but let’s just consider this as make up sex, please?” Dom panted. Rhea chuckled at his desperate state and began to kiss him again. She took her shirt off while Dom admired her body like he always did.

“You're so beautiful mami.” Rhea smiled.

“Thank you, baby. You are so beautiful too.” Dom flushed at the compliment. Rhea took off the rest of her clothes as well as Dominik’s and began to kiss down his body. She went down towards his waist until he stopped her.

“Wait, mami, I wanna taste you, please?” Rhea nodded in agreement before Dom flipped them over. He kissed her face then down her jawline to her neck then he paused for a second.

Were those…hickeys?

She wouldn’t lie to him again…would she?

“Dom?”

“Yes?”

“Are you alright? Do you want to stop?”

“No, no, I’m fine…” He continued his way down, between her legs. He took his time licking up her folds, savoring her sweet taste that he missed dearly. While Rhea moaned in pleasure, her mind took her back to a certain someone and how good that person made her feel, but rushed that thought away immediately because now she was with Dom. She wanted to fix things with Dom. She wanted to stay with Dom, right?

Roman was in his room on his phone reading some emails when he got a text from none other than the irresistible force, Nia Jax. Roman, confused, opened the text.

When he did, however, he was met with a video that she had sent. It was a video of him and Rhea walking up to the hotel after they got off from their rental car, then suddenly Rhea leaned in to whisper something in his ear (which he knew what it was at that moment), before he was seen chuckling and going inside the hotel with her. From what he could tell, this video was taken from a distance.

Then he saw her text:

‘Someone sent me this. Would be a shame if I exposed this tomorrow during Monday Night Raw…🤭.’

At the text, he sat up and looked at it for a few minutes.

How the fuck did she find out and who sent that to her in the first place?

Immediately, he stood up from the bed, debating on whether he should call and confront her or not. Then the thought of Rhea popped into his head and before he knew it he was calling her.

Meanwhile, Rhea laid comfortably by Dom’s side as he was spooning her in his sleep. She tried to slowly let herself drift away as she was moments away from sleeping before she suddenly heard her phone vibrate at the table lamp beside her. Blinking in confusion and wondering who would call her this late, she slowly and carefully removed Dom’s arm away from her waist before she grabbed her phone.

She wanted to hang up as she rubbed her forehead when she saw who the caller was. Roman.

She took a deep breath before she took Dom’s shirt and her pair of panties from the floor as she quickly put them on before she quietly went to the bathroom with her phone in hand and closed the door quietly, locking it in the process before she answered Roman’s call.

“This better be a good reason to wake me up.” She told him in a low tone, yet firmly.

“Nia Jax knows.”

At the sudden statement, Rhea paused as she blinked a few times. “… Excuse me? Knows about what?”

“About what we did in South Carolina. And she has evidence, she’s also threatening to expose that evidence tomorrow at Raw.”

At that, Rhea’s expression immediately changed as she spoke quietly and paced around the bathroom. “Well then, are you going to do something about it? You both are related- make sure she keeps her mouth shut.”

“I’m going to find her first thing in the morning—“

“I don’t mean later, I mean NOW.” She almost hissed. “Find her now, she should be here in this hotel. I can’t deal with her just yet until Crown Jewel.”

“Look, I’m gonna go and find her now.” He immediately told her as she heard some shuffling in the background. “But what I need you to do is to not cause anything. If she confronts you—“

“Wait. Hold on.” She interrupted him when she heard a text notification from her phone, immediately, she looked at her phone, noticing the text message was from Nia. Frowning, she opened it.

‘Tomorrow @ 12 PM, meet me at the cafeteria in the hotel. Don’t be late. Or I’ll leak the video.’

Rhea remained silent as she stared down at the text. She willed herself not to lose her temper right then and there, holding her phone still while Roman was still on the line.

“Ripley? What’s going on—“

“You better go and find Nia, set things straight with her, and make her keep her mouth shut.” She interrupted him yet again. “Because now she wants to talk to ME tomorrow before Raw.”

“Wait. Don’t.” Roman immediately said to her.

“Reigns, if I don’t do it, she’s going to expose us—“

“She threatened you?”

“Of course she did. What else could she have done?”

“Okay- you know what, stay put. I’m gonna go and look for her asap. Do NOT do anything yet until you hear back from me, understood?”

“Reigns, if I remember correctly, I don’t take orders from no one, especially you. You go deal with her now, I’ll deal with her tomorrow. End of story.” With that, Rhea hung up and almost slammed her phone near the sink. She then took a deep breath while looking at herself in the mirror.

She knew why Nia was doing this. All because of her Championship. She’d do anything to make Rhea fall and crumble. But that was not happening anytime soon. Not as long as she remains on top.

She was going to remind Nia who she was dealing with.

Taglist:

@sassginaswanmills @riptideripley @tonuitekan

[pariskylar]

Part 3: Rude

Monday: August 30, 2021

Beatrice, bitch please. you know who I be nothin' else, none other the number one stunner.

she pulled up to The Thrombey Mansion for her second week of work.

working for Harlan has been very uneventful, borderline boring. all she did for the past two weeks was take calls, email business people back and proof reading. proofing was the only part of the job she actually enjoyed.

she entered the house and went straight to Mr. Thrombey’s Office.

“good morning.” she signed her time sheet.

“good morning.” Marta greeted.

and as usual Harlan said nothing.

ignoring that she pulled out her iPad, where she had transferred the planner and began briefing him about his schedule today.

“today you have a doctors appointment at 8:30 AM, a meeting with Mr. Walt Thrombey at the publishing company at 11:30 AM and and dogs have a vet appointment at 1:00 PM.” she read off.

“Marta is taking me to my doctors appointment.” he said while stacking three different piles of papers “these need to be proofed.” he handed them over to her.

she nodded waiting to see of he had anything else to say, but of course he didn’t. she took her assignment out to the front porch. she sat tailored style on the bench pulling out her sticky tabs, red pen, post-its and the matching highlighters .

and began her reading. this is the shit she loved. well introduced characters, well thought out details. this is why she wanted to be an editor.

forty five minutes later she proofed seventy percent of the first chapter and Harlan and Marta came out the house.

“we’re off to the doctor.” Marta said helping Harlan down the steps.

“ok, well be safe.” she said automatically.

pulling out her phone she saw the time read 7:56 AM. she’d been out there for nearly an hour and her bones and joints felt it. she stood from her seat stretching and loosen up her joint.

standing up straight she grabbed all of her supplies and moved to the steps.

after two hours she was finishing up the second chapter when she heard the revving of a car engine. she looked up to see an old school BMW flying up the driveway. she put a tab where she just finished reading sitting up properly, ready to greet whoever the guest was.

when the car door opened out stepped a white man with brunette hair sporting slacks, a striped shirt and sunglasses. he slowly made his way to the house.

“hi, how may i help you?” she asked as he made his way up the steps.

he totally ignored her and went inside. she grabbed her keys that had her mace on them. she sat the papers aside and grabbed the iPad, rushing in after him.

“um, excuse me? sir?” she followed him into Mr. Thombey’s empty office. “um, sir.”

“what?” he turned to her finally acknowledging her existence.

his presence was a bit intimidating, causing her to take a few steps back. he rolled his eyes making an exit from the office.

she switched the latch on the mace.

“um, do you have an meeting set with Mr. Thrombey?” she followed him.

“a meeting?” he asked seemingly confused heading for the stairs

“yeah, like an appointment.” he turned from the second step with the same confused look “you know when you set a time to talk to someone.”

“i know what a meeting is, i’m just confused on why i’d need one. i’m his grandson.”

that’s Ransom?

“oh, the one with the bi-weekly visits.” she closed the mace.

“yeah.” he said with faux enthusiasm

“well Mr. Thrombey had a doctor’s appointment today, but he’ll be back any minute now. you can wait for him in his office.”

he didn’t say anything just going back to his office, slamming the door behind him.

she huffed, snarling. there’s alot of thing she can take, and has, but one thing she can’t stand is an unnecessarily rude person.

there was no reason for him to come in that aggressive and to be that harsh.

she made her way back to the front porch to try and finish up her assignment

her alarm that was set 10:45 went off, but Harlan and Marta wasn't back yet. she didn't have Marta's number so she had no choice but to wait this out. she re-scheduled the meetings and vet appointment, while waiting. she was chewing on her pencil eraser nervous. she was 99 percent sure she was gonna lose her job.

after the most daunting 42 minutes Marta and Harlan finally pulled up.

she stood up from her seat grabbing her bag and rushed to the car. once the car came to a full stop she opened the door and help Harlan out.

“Mr. Thrombey, we’re late for your meeting with Mr. Walt.” she closed the door and walked to her car as fast as she could without dragging him. “i called and rescheduled the meeting for 12:00 and push the vet appointment for 1:30, i just need to get the dogs in the car and we can go.” she tossed her bag in her backseat, before taking off to the backyard.

whistling at them she gained their attention.

“come.” she squatted down waved them over.

they ran up to her.

she stood up straight and began jogging to her car with them her following. when they got there Mr. Thrombey wasn’t in the car.

“what the hell?” she said under her breath.

“i took him to the meeting with Walt.” Marta said from the side of her.

“oh, well thanks.” Jaz nodded "um, can i get you number." her social anxiety began to kick in.

"just so when you take Harlan places i'll know, y'know" she over explained.

"no, yeah, i get it." Marta pulled out her phone handing it over.

"personal or work?" she asked pulling each from her pockets.

"both?"

Jaz nodded handing them both over.

Jazlyn (Personal): (504)-xxx-xxxx she entered her personal number first then her work number Jazlyn (Work): (857)-xxx-xxxx.

they exchanged phones back.

she looked at the new contact in her phone, Marta :) (857)-xxx-xxxx.

"um, thanks."

"no problem." Marta nodded.

they walked back towards the porch. she took a seat on the bench and Marta went back into the house.

she set a new alarm for 12:30.

the dogs ran up to her, tails wagging.

“hi, babies.” she giggled at them scratching behind each of their ears.

one tried giving her a kiss but she dodged it.

“no kisses, just rubs and hugs.”

she spent the next 50 minutes cuddling the dogs and trying to calm herself down from mini freakout she had.

what the heck bro. that was so rude and inconsiderate. he could've told me that he was going to have Marta take him to the meeting. and why the hell did the receptionist let me change times if he was already there?

while in the midst of another freakout her alarm went off. she sighed getting up from her seat, heading back to the home.

they tried following her in the house.

"sit." she commanded "stay." they obeyed.

she knocked on the office door.

“come in.” he called from the other side of the door.

walking in she saw Harlan and Ransom sitting across from each other.

“um, i’m taking the dogs to their vet appointment.”

Ransom scoffed at her turning back to his granddad.

rude

“ok.” Harlan nodded

“is there anything you need while i’m out?”

“no.”

she nodded leaving the room. she grabbed the leashes from the hooks on the foyer.

-

after taking the dogs to the vet and a long day of doing nothing she went back to her townhouse.

"hey, baby." Tia greeted her from the couch.

"hi." she kicked off her shoes at the door.

she sighed flopping next to her, handing over a pint of Ben and Jerry's.

"lemme guess, boring day today?" she grabbed a spoon from the bowl on the coffee table.

for the past week she had been complaining non-stop about how freaking boring it was to work for Harlan.

"no, stressful." Jaz shook her head unbuckled her belt.

"how?"

"he had a doctors appointment and Marta took him. i was supposed to take him to his meeting at his publishing company, but he had Marta take him." she began to explain taking her pants off. "but he ain't tell me shit, so i'm running around thinking i'm finna get fired. i rescheduled the meeting. they come back talking bout 'i took him.' then his grandson came there almost giving me a heart attack."

"his grandson?" T asked around a bite of ice cream

"yeah, Ransom. he fine, but he rude as hell."

"how fine? you know my fine and your fine are two different fines." Tia pointed the spoon at Jaz.

"as fine as you can get for a white boy." she shrugged pulling her hair back. "i'm finna shower and take this makeup off, then we gon talk about them crazy ass people you work for." she stood up.

"good because bitch i got some shit to tell you."

[ubiquitouslyme]

The Odyssey of Imrrick - Chapter 4

It's MONDAY!!! Chapter 4/10 of the @rq-gift-exchange for @alexandia03

Summary:

The story of how Imogen and Garrick fell in love - told from their POV while they get ready for their wedding with their friends.

This work will be ten chapters, to be posted every Monday and Friday until August 1st.

Chapter 4 Summary:

Garrick and Xaden have a tense moment discussing the past few years. Garrick then tells Ridoc and Xaden about the first time he and Imogen slept together.

Snippet:

He reached for her hand and gripped it tightly.  They both fell quiet, each lost in thought.  Finally, after what felt like seconds or an eternity, Imogen whispered, “Garrick?”

“Yeah, Immie?”

“Tomorrow, everything could change, right?”  She stared up at him with such earnestness, it was so un-Imogen like that he couldn't help himself.  He pulled her gently toward him and wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her toward him, wrapping her in his arms.  For just a moment, everything felt right in the world.

“Or it could stay the same,” he told her, although, like Imogen, he didn’t think they had many more days like this.  Maybe not any more days like this.

She nodded, then pulled back to stare up at him, her eyes unguarded.  “You once promised me something.  You promised you would always be my first, remember?”

Of course he remembered.  He’d thought of little else since the day he had kissed Imogen on Xaden’s birthday more than fifteen months ago.  After, he had wanted to do nothing but hold Imogen and keep her close, but everything had changed so quickly.  Just days later, Fen had announced—internally at Riorson House, but of course Xaden and Garrick had overheard—that he was planning on traveling to Poromiel to make a deal with Tecarus.  It had all happened so fast from there.  The alliance.  The responsibilities thrust upon Xaden’s shoulders.  The succession.  And then the apostasy.  It had felt like they’d had their childhood stripped from them in a matter of months. 

And it had been nothing but war with Navarre for the past year.  None of them had done much other than live in fear and worry.  All thoughts of anything with Imogen had completely disappeared after Fen’s announcement.

“I remember,” he told her cautiously.  Why was she asking this?

Imogen looked unsure of herself for a second.  “Did you mean it?”

Chapters:

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4