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#the tea only aged him LIKE FOUR YEARS GUYS
llannasvsp · 17 days
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Does it ridiculously annoy you when people micharacterize your favorite character? Do you feel like you want to implode when you see it happening?
Because I sure want to.
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navierae · 1 month
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Because I Missed You
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CHARACTERS: James Potter x Reader Summary: An unexpected reunion with your old friends from Hogwarts causes your once buried feelings for the spectacled boy to resurface unexpectedly. a/n: bye this is my first time writing this long and for James Potter no less BUT WHO WOULDNT AM I RIGHT. anyway i hope you guys enjoy! likes, comments, feedbacks and reblogs are highly appreciated !! wc: 2.3k
“It’s the same old feeling back again, it’s the one they had way back when they were too young to know when love is real.”
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“That would be $23.45.”
“Hold on,” I open my wallet to take the exact amount out and hand it over to the cashier, making sure that nothing falls, “Here you go.”
“I received the exact amount.” The cashier says, counting how much I gave before putting it in the register and handing over my receipt, “Come again.”
“Thank you.” I take the paper bag containing my groceries, trying to hide how I was slightly struggling with carrying it, my arm strength was something that I was never proud of, makes me glad that I use a wand for self-defense instead of my fists when need be.
I step out of the grocery store and start my journey back to the small apartment I know a few blocks away. It's been a few years since I graduated from Hogwarts, and a few months since I decided to live amongst the muggles. After that incident during 7th year, I thought it was in my best interest to distance myself from anyone who knows me or could possibly recognize me. Though I still keep in touch with some of them, namely Lily Evans, and to be fair, she's really the only I still talk to that has any relation to the wizarding world.
I make it halfway to my apartment when I spot the cafe I frequent during my free time. I need a break, I think to myself as I feel the dull ache in my arms starting to form from carrying my grocery bags. I push the cafe doors open, the smell of coffee and pastries immediately greeting me, as well as the sound of customers talking. My eyes scan the menu, trying to find something I have yet to order, before settling on the Jasmine tea and blueberry muffin. Turns out I'm not in the mood to try something new today.
I go to stand in line behind a group of men who seem to be my age, they're a bit loud if you ask me. Okay, scratch that, they're loud. A guy with the black hair is laughing loudly, and the brunette is pushing him by the shoulder, and the last guy is just looking away. I sigh, looking to the side, trying not to pay attention to them. Just order, pay, wait for it, eat, and then go ho-
“Y/n?”
What. I look back at the front to see who called me, the black haired guy now facing me, I quickly glance at his whole being before focusing on his face. There's no mistaking it, even after all these years, how can I forget him?
“Sirius?” I ask, eyes wide in shock, I didn't expect to see him here. What was he doing here? Wait, if he's here, then the other two are-
“Prongs, Moony, I told you it's y/n!” Sirius taps both of them on the shoulder with a grin on his face, they both turn around with shocked faces mirroring mine. “It’s so good to see you again, y/n! It's been a while hasn't it?” 
I nod with an unsure smile on my face, “Yeah, it has.” I look over them one by one, to see what had changed since the last time I saw them, which was at least three or four years ago now. Remus, who's smiling at me, and Sirius both hadn't changed much, except for the fact that Sirius’ hair is much longer and Remus sporting some scars that weren't there the last time I saw him.
And James… I turn to James and see him wearing the same glasses he wore back then, and the same boyish grin he gave everyone he would come across. His face had a shocked expression on before our eyes met, it turned into one with an awkward smile as he tried to mask whatever he was feeling at the moment. Disgust and the urge to leave as quickly as possible I assume. 
He opens his mouth to say something when the girl at the counter calls out the next customer, making him turn around along with Remus and Sirius, to give their orders. I stare at their backs, their voices mixing into the background, who would've thought I would run into them here out of all places? 
I focus my attention on them as they finish ordering with James paying and leaving to find a seat first, Sirius and Remus face me with hopeful smiles on their faces. “Are you busy? We were hoping we could catch up for a bit, who knows when we would see each other after this?” Remus asks, nodding his head to the direction where James went, eager to hear my answer. 
…That shouldn't be too bad right? Just a quick catch up then we'll be in our separate ways after this. I nod at them, their smiles growing as they leave to follow James. I step forward and dictate my order while reaching for my wallet, the girl behind the register stops me as I hand over the amount needed. 
“Oh, no need to pay, one of the guys before you offered to pay for whatever you would order.” I furrow my eyebrows before thanking her and walking away to where the boys were seated. “You didn't need to pay for me.” I say as I approached their table, James looks up from their conversation and makes eye contact.
“I know, but I wanted to.” He says smiling, not breaking eye contact, as if daring me to go against him. I stayed silent and stared at him for a few seconds, before saying thanks and sat down at the unoccupied seat. Which was, unfortunately, next to James. The table goes quiet, a somewhat awkward silence falling on us. I busy myself by playing with my fingers under the table and staring at the pattern of the table, when Sirius speaks up.
“So… how have you been y/n? No one has really heard from you since we graduated a few years back.” I look up and see all of them staring at me, the sight taking me back to Hogwarts, where they would be looking at me while listening to me rambling about my day. The only difference was we had grown older, our faces slowly losing our teenage features, being replaced with signs of aging.
I tap my fingers on the tabletop, following the rhythm of the music played by the cafe, wondering where and what to start with. I take a deep breath and open my mouth, deciding to say whatever I think about first.
“I’ve been doing pretty well, you know, with adjusting to living amongst the muggles and living life the way they do.” Smiling, I waited for them to answer after I asked the same question. Sirius says he’s been the lead singer for one of the muggle bands he joined, and that the band had a gig nearby. That explains why they were here in the first place, what were the chances that they would be at this particular cafe out of the numerous other ones that are spread around this town? 
Remus talks about how he became a professor at Hogwarts for Defense Against the Dark Arts, and shared how he would see Severus Snape from time to time and exchange glaring glances at one another. Our conversation was interrupted by our orders getting called to be picked up at the counter. I was about to stand up when a hand was placed on my shoulder, stopping me in place, his hand searing. 
“I’ll get it.” 
He said, smiling at me as he stood up, before walking off. The warmth from his hand had gone cold too quickly, taking it with him, it had only been a few seconds but I was starting to miss it- 
Stop that. Stop that right now. 
My eyes widened as I realized the words that had gone through my mind, that was a highly inappropriate thought about someone, your ex-boyfriend no less. I shake my head and put my focus back on Sirius and Remus in front of me, about to tell Remus to continue his stories while waiting for James to come back, which shouldn’t take him too long. But their eyes were somewhere else, I followed their gaze and saw James talking to a girl our age, well more like the girl was talking to James as he was trying to get our order. We were too far from the counter to hear what it was they were talking about, but judging from how the girl was looking him up and down, I was certain it was flirty remarks disguised as a casual conversation. 
“Ohoho, seems like Prongs has another one trying to get his number, huh Moony? Isn’t she, like, the fifth one today?” Sirius laughs loudly as he swings an arm around Remus’ chair, leaning forward to get a better view of what was happening, the latter just sighs and shakes his head. “Don’t forget to mention that it's only our second day here, and she’s the fifteenth one since yesterday. And I’m pretty sure they all tried to ask him on a date as well.” 
“All tried to ask him on a date”? Did he accept any of those offers? I mean, he doesn’t have a reason to not give one of them a shot, especially if they’re extremely attractive like that girl he’s talking to right now. Makes me wonder how many people asked him out the past few years. Wait, is he even seeing someone right now-
“y/n, stop staring at him so hard, you might burn a hole through him.” I snap out of my train of thought as Sirius taps the space in front of my hand, catching my attention. “You look like how you did when other people asked him out to the yule ball back at hogwarts.” He continued while laughing, my face falling at his comment. Had I been actually…? 
Remus gets startled as he notices the change in my facial expression, he slaps Sirius at his arm while telling him to cut it out, the latter letting out a small yelp at the impact. Remus turns to face me again, slightly hesitating, the next words that came out of his mouth made me grab my things and stand up. 
“But… Do you still like him, y/n?” 
“I’m leaving, it was good to see you guys.” I say as I start heading towards the door, making Remus and Sirius stand up while calling after me. 
Did I actually still like him, even after having no-contact for years? The question remained in my mind as I walked out of the cafe, missing the way James’ expression turned into one of panic when he spotted me going out. Excusing himself from the (one-sided) conversation the girl was having with him and rushing after me, forgetting about the orders. I hear someone yelling out my name, but I pay it no mind, instead opting to yell back. “I have to go, sorry!” 
“y/n, wait a minute!” 
A hand wraps around my wrist, the one that wasn’t carrying anything but my purse, stopping me from going forwards. I turn back and see James panting a bit, his hair ruffled from running, small beads of sweat starting to drip down the sides of his forehead due to the heat of his jacket. We both stopped in the middle of the walkway, no one speaking, the only sounds that can be heard were from around us and his breaths, his hand still keeping me bound to where I stood. 
After catching his breath, he stands up straight, making eye contact with me. “Why’d you leave?” He asks, his eyes searching mine for an answer. I shift and look away, pursing my lips, unsure of what to answer.
“I have things to do.” 
“But your order?”
“I can live without it.” 
Silence falls on us again, my answers rendering him unable to keep the conversation going, and getting the answers that would satisfy his curiosity. I was about to pull my wrist out of his grip, and excuse myself to leave, when he spoke up again.
“I missed you.” I look back at him upon hearing his straight-forward statement. He had missed me? 
“...You did?” He nodded, not missing a beat. Everyday ever since you left he adds. I didn't speak after that,I wasn’t about to let him know that I was the same as him, that there was also never a day that I never thought about him. 
“Can I have your number? So that we can hang out again after this, if you want?” 
“...Alright.” I nod and recite my telephone number, watching as he mouthed the numbers to remember, repeating it two more times. Cute. 
“I can, um, help you with that if you want? It's quite a lot.” He offers to carry some of my groceries, his head gesturing to the paper bags in my other arm. I shake my head, refusing his offer. 
“It’s fine, I can handle it. But, I really have to go now.” I tell him, turning my body away from him, taking my wrist out of his grip in the process. He wants to say something, but ultimately decides against it as he nods his head in understanding. 
“Okay… can we meet each other at this cafe tomorrow then?” He asks.
“I… don’t see why not. Sirius and Remus are also going to be there right?” 
He shakes his head. “No, just the two of us tomorrow.”
I furrow my eyebrows at his answer. Don’t assume things, y/n, ask him why first before you get ahead of yourself.
“Why?”
“Because I missed you.”
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dc418writes · 3 days
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Trial & Error
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Summary🪄: Joel tries to help you get some rest
🚨: no outbreak!Joel, minor age gap (reader is late 20s, Joel is mid 30s), AU with no Sarah (pls don’t hate me 🫣) pretty much all fluff💕
A/N🎤: this is my submission to @beefrobeefcal ‘s Married Joel Sat on Me challenge (please check out the other works and/or submit your own if you’d like☺️!), and I hope you guys like what I came up with✨
*DISCLAIMER!: I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of pictures used as they were all found via Pinterest. Although my writings are imagined with a black reader, anyone can read and enjoy😌*
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“Baby,” Joel drawls in that deep voice smooth like silk that always makes you melt, “you should be sleeping.” His lips sweetly press against your forehead after carefully tilting your head back so your doe eyes would be on him.
He wasn’t surprised to see your silhouette through the front curtains as his black pickup pulled in the driveway. The living room illuminated with flashes of blue as you watched something he couldn’t quite tell - if he had to guess, probably one of baby Morgan’s favorite shows you tended to play so she could calm down.
It had been a bit of a habit now with your newfound insomnia. And having to take care of a sick five-month-old while being under the weather yourself didn’t help.
“I’m not tired though.” Even upside down, it was obvious to see the exhaustion in those pretty features that had him addicted from the first time he saw you. The darkened puffiness under your eyes. The dull look to your usually bright skin.
“But you need sleep. The past couple days you’ve only been gettin three, maybe four hours.” Although calm, you could feel his concern. Knew he was stressed that his two girls were dealing with things he couldn’t seem to help with. Especially not with this new house taking up all his time.
“I don’t know what else to do.” You sigh, leaning your head on his shoulder as he sits beside you draping his arm around the back of the dark sectional. Any other time, his overall presence along with the warmth emanating from his wood and leather scented skin would have you relaxed enough that you could easily find rest. Now it was just one of a long list of futile attempts.
“Wanna try those sleep gummies again?”
“I think my body’s used to it since it didn’t work that first night.”
His deep hum rumbles under your fingertips on his sternum. “Tea?”
You shake your head, “Being sick made me all tea’d out. Plus I think the chamomile’s gone.”
“Could always try warm milk?,” he suggests with a slight grin. He already knew your answer, but he loved watching your cute, button nose crinkle in disgust.
“I’d rather be knocked over the head,” you answer making your husband deeply chuckle. “Let’s face it, this is just how things are for now. I’ve tried pretty much everything.”
Joel wasn’t one to easily accept defeat though thanks to his stubborn nature.
“I uh was talkin’ about it with a buddy on the job. He mentioned something about a..weighted blanket? Said it works for his kid so I tried to find one at the store, but the lady said they’re all out for now.”
Tilting your head up, a soft smile curls along your lips meeting Joel’s cocoa gaze focused on you. It shouldn’t be anything surprising at this point of your relationship, - being together for three years and married for two - but you can’t help how your heart flutters at how caring he could be. If a certified cure was revealed today or tomorrow, you know he’d make a way to be the first in line.
Leaning forward, you peck his lips once before moving to his bearded jaw, “Thank you for trying.”
His mouth finds yours again easily sliding your hips, with his thick hands, to sit across his lap making you giggle between each nip and press of your lips against his. “I’ll stop by tomorrow to check again. Try that other store across town too.”
As if feeling left out from all the love, Morgan first whimpers then cries from her nursery just off from the living room. You mentally groan dreading how long it’ll take to get her back to sleep.
“I got her,” Joel states leaving a last kiss on your forehead. “You try to rest.”
“No it’s okay, I got her. Plus I’ll have to check her temp-,”
His hands only tighten on your hips preventing you from standing. “Baby I can do it. Relax.”
“What if she’s hungry?”
“I can warm a bottle.”
“I can at least help though,” you pout trying to wiggle free. Instead, you’re manhandled to lie down with your husband sitting on your lower back and butt pressing you into the plush cushions. Turning your upper body as much as you could, your eyebrows slightly furrow in shock and amusement while Joel just crosses his arms as if you’re now permanently part of the furniture. “J-Joel! Wha-?”
“Ya left me no choice. It was the only way I could get you to stay.”
“By crushing me with your big ass?!”
You could be so dramatic. “Hey, this big ass is your fault,” he laughs. “Fillin’ me up with all that food and pastries.”
Marriage had been good to Joel. His mental health and financial stability had improved, and he seemed overall a happier person. The only drawback seemed to be the effect it had on his waistline. His once toned abdomen now a pleasant pouch and thighs a bit thicker causing him to go up a size in his jeans - and even then they still hugged tight.
Not that you minded. You loved Joel’s new ‘dad bod’ just as much as his more slender form. Sometimes even more as you watched him get ready for work or walk around in his sweatpants as he carried and played with Morgan. If it wasn’t for your current situation, you might even be pregnant with baby number two you were so attracted to him.
“Sure, it’s my fault and not that burger and fries you get every day for lunch,” you playfully huff trying to shimmy your way from his hold.
He slightly tilts his head from left to right knowing you had a point, “Alright fair.” Eventually, you finally submit to the fact you weren’t leaving letting your arms extend in front of you. And dare you say, it even began to feel comfortable. “Now, if I get up I trust you’re gonna stay here?”
“Yes seeing that my back is broken,” you reply rolling your eyes. That earns you a warning - yet always playful - smack to the back of your thigh as he stands now leaving you to the cold, open air. “Good girl. I’ll be right back.”
The softest of smiles forms of your lips rolling onto your back to watch him happily stride to tend to his baby girl. “Hey love bug! How ya feelin huh?” Her cries instantly silence into hiccups as soon as she’s lifted to lie on his chest. She even babbles as if having a full conversation while he presses the back of his hand to her forehead. “No fever that’s good.”
A certain, familiar smell clues Joel to what the issue is though. “We gotta get this diaper off you babygirl,” he states moving to lie her on the changing table. “That’ll make you feel better right?” It’s like she understands every word reaching her chubby arms up with a short giggle. They grow into excited squeals as Joel takes turns blowing raspberries onto her bare stomach and tickling that spot under her chin between cleaning her up with baby wipes.
Such a daddy’s girl through and through.
It takes maybe ten minutes more of coos mixed with rocking and bouncing before Joel has her asleep again; carefully lowering her into her crib for the night. ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’ playing on a low, constant loop from her star projector to make sure she stays that way as he eases out her room and shuts the door behind him.
His ebony eyes are trained on you now padding the short distance to the couch and leaning over your body. That one curl at the top of his head tipping forward. “Alright, your turn princess.”
You only lift your arms with a smile letting him lift you over his broad shoulder to carry you down the hall to your shared bedroom. Luckily you’re already in your pajamas when you gently flop against the brown comforter. He leaves you to get comfortable - shifting under the covers and wiggling to find that sweet spot - while he discards his clothes in the bathroom to shower and brush his teeth.
In a few minutes, he’s appearing through the misty doorway with wet almond strands still trying to dry and a pair of black boxer briefs over his hips. The little “ooh” that slips from your lips as he slides into bed makes him furrow his brows in confusion while you twist to lie on your stomach reaching back to pat your bottom. “I got an idea.”
“Yeah?,” he smirks wetting his bottom lip. “We definitely haven’t tried that before.”
“Jesus, get your mind out the gutter. I mean crush me again,” you laugh.
Although he scoffs in faux offense, he still does as you say positioning himself so half his body covers yours and long leg nearly straddles your back. His nose mere centimeters from yours blowing steady streams of air as you practically share your pillow. “What’s your plan here?”
“Well, until we find one, I was thinking..maybe you could be my weighted blanket,” you shyly explain. “I know it’s probably dumb, but earlier-,”
“Worth a try,” Joel winks closing the small gap to peck your nose then lips. His fingertips tracing soothing lines back and forth along your neck.
For a while, you both just lied there talking about your respective days or whatever came to mind. Around one in the morning, Joel could see your blinks become slower and slower until it was an apparent struggle to keep your eyes open. Your words even beginning to slur and answers sound like adorable nonsense.
You hadn’t even realized you eventually drifted off until the next morning when you were woken up by Morgan’s cries through the monitor. The sun shining a bright golden hue through the crack in the curtains.
A note on the nightstand is the first to catch your attention - clearly written by your husband from the tilted and slightly mushed together handwriting - making you tiredly smile.
‘Glad to see you got some rest xx’
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suppose-i-was-worm · 1 year
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Ghost on the Stairs
**alright, alright. I asked and y'all answered. Here's my siblings Bruce and Danny fic!**
“Boo!”
Bruce clattered to a stop on the floor, holding his arms out for his baby brother as the boy toddled his way forward.
“Hey, Danny! Did you miss me while I was at school?”
Danny waved chubby arms, clearly delighted that Bruce was waiting for him. He was all of two years to Bruce’s seven, and the two of them were almost inseparable.
Chancing a look over to his mother, Bruce found her and father smiling fondly at the two of them. Alfred was coming up behind them with a tea tray.
“Boo!”
Bruce turned back to his brother, only to lurch forward as his tiny brother took a step straight into a swirling green portal that opened up from nowhere.
Danny’s screech as he fell was cut off by the portal shutting with a snap, leaving Bruce on his hands and knees, reaching for air.
Mother, father, and Alfred all clustered around him as he began to cry, and the four of them began desperately looking for the youngest member of the family.
They never found him, and a year later, Bruce lost his parents to a gun. At least that was something he could fight against.
When Bruce became Batman at the age of twenty-two, he finally erected a gravestone for his baby brother, right next to their parents. If Danny ever came back, he wouldn’t be the same boy who had vanished.
~~~
Red Robin swung into the building, breaking through the window with his momentum. The cult surrounding a magic circle on the floor of the warehouse had been causing a ruckus in Gotham, and the bats had finally had enough.
Just as they finished knocking out the cultists, the magic circle flared to life and a green pool bloomed from the floor.
Tim, purely out of scientific curiosity, leaned closer, only to be pulled back roughly by Batman.
“Stay away from it.”
“B?”
Batman grabbed a batarang from where it had landed in the melee and threw it with a precise hand, cutting through one of the lines of chalk surrounding the pool.
Narrowing his eyes, Tim watched Bruce’s face- his expression right now was all Bruce, no Bat in sight- sorrow mixed with relief.
Once the pool had vanished completely, Bruce pulled Tim into his arms.
“Woah, what’s up B?”
“I cannot lose you too.”
The moment passed, and Red Robin found himself following Batman as the vigilante swept out of the building.
~~~
“Constantine.”
“Bats. Nice of you to call. What do you need?”
“I sent you a data packet. What is the summoning circle for?”
Constantine was quiet for a long while as he perused the files Bruce had sent him. Bruce paced in front of the batcomputer, glad that all his children were in bed for the night. Somehow they had known something was wrong, and every single one of them had come to the manor- even Jason.
“Looks like an attempt to summon a being of the Infinite Realms to me.”
“Infinite Realms?”
“Mhmm. The afterlife, if you will.”
Bruce couldn’t help the small wheeze as his airways caught. Constantine didn’t seem to notice, as he continued.
“The ghosts haven’t been as active lately, not since the new king came into power. It’s been maybe two decades since?”
“I would like to meet this king.”
“Why?”
“It would be politically intelligent of us to make allies.”
Constantine sighed, long and loud.
“Fine. Give me a week to gather up the stuff.”
~~~
Jason glanced over the thin information brief that Bruce handed down, skimming it at first, until something caught his eye.
“B?”
“Hn.”
“According to this, the being we’re trying to summon is damn powerful. Wouldn’t it be better to do this on the Watchtower with more backup?”
“Yeah B,” Dick chimed in, “Constantine’s report does say that the guy is rumored to be a wandering spirit, which limits his power, but what if that’s not right?”
Jason looked back down at the papers, his eyes darting through to find out what a wandering spirit was.
A ghost that couldn’t find its grave. Part of Jason ached at the thought, and he didn’t quite understand why.
“Fine. We will summon the king at the Watchtower.”
Small victories.
~~~
Bruce was not a praying man, and yet here he was, hoping against hope that this ghost could assist him in finding out what happened to his brother.
The sigils on the floor flared to light, and a now familiar green portal swirled into being. The entire room waited with bated breath for a few moments, and then a young woman rose from the portal.
Batman knew what it felt like to be stabbed. There was no way he could have been, and yet there was a knife in his gut as he stared at this girl who looked so much like his mother, except for the inverted colors.
“The Ghost King thanks you for your call- Unfortunately he is currently unavailable. Please leave your message after the-“ the girl’s professional, almost robotic voice petered off. “Wait a minute- it’s here!”
Her eyes were wide, as was the smile she flashed at the group.
“Please hold.”
She sunk back into the pool, and Bruce took a step towards it, despairing of his chance.
And then she returned, dragging a young man up with her.
“Can you feel it, Phantom? It’s here! We can find it!”
“Calm down, Phantasm. We can go looking soon- first we need to find out why I was summoned.”
The young man turned to Diana, who was standing at the front of the group. She had been chosen as diplomatic leader, seeing as she was a Princess and Ambassador.
“Pardon my sister, how may I assist?”
Bruce let their conversation wash over him as he cataloged the young man’s features. They were so very similar- so close.
The man was both too young and too old. Daniel would be in his mid-forties had he lived, and only two if he’d died. This young man couldn’t be older than thirty.
As Diana’s explanation ended, the young man smiled.
“I agree. It would be advantageous of us to be allies, knowing what I know of this reality now. As allies, I must ask- what is the real reason I was summoned?”
He turned his green (wrong, too much like Damian’s) eyes to Bruce.
“Will you explain? The summoning was filled with great longing for something.”
Bruce stumbled forward, and surely to the shock of his teammates, friends, and children, fell to his knees before the king.
“My- my brother. He fell through a portal so similar to yours and I- I need to know what happened to him. Please.”
The king and his sister looked at each other before looking back at Bruce.
“The Infinite Realms are just that, infinite. However, I may be able to help.”
“Phantom!”
The king ignored his sister.
“What was his name, this brother of yours?”
Bruce hadn’t spoken his brother’s name in decades.
“Danny. Daniel Wayne.”
The room was so silent he could have heard a pin drop.
“And you gave him a grave when he never returned to you.”
Bruce looked up at the king, who was looking back contemplatively. The king’s sister was staring up at her brother with her mouth agape.
“I did.”
The king was very, very quiet, and the moment stretched on and on and on.
After a time, the room grew darker as the green pool closed slowly, and the two ghosts landed with barely a whisper of sound.
“I died at age fourteen,” the king began, musing his own thoughts. “As I died, I thought that the color of the ectoplasm surrounding me was too familiar in color and movement for that to have been my first experience with a portal.”
He took a step towards Bruce.
“It was terrifying and I was so afraid that I would be ripped away from everything I ever loved again.”
Two bright white rings circled the king, and Bruce found himself looking at a man who looked just like his mother, but with a twitch of the lips that was entirely his father’s.
“Hello, Boo. I’m afraid I can’t remember your name properly.”
Bruce took his cowl off slowly, wanting his baby brother to see him despite the fact that he was crying.
“We’ve got his chin, Danny.”
The girl was standing a little behind Danny, smiling. She winked at Bruce.
“He always did want to find his bio family.”
Bruce held his hand out, and Danny took it, using his position and apparently superior strength to pull Bruce into a hug.
“Bruce. Bruce Wayne.”
“Danny Nightingale- well. Nightingale-Wayne, I suppose.”
~~~
Danielle Nightingale (Wayne?) watched her original and his brother(!?!) hug it out. The big man in black was obviously not used to hugs.
“Miss?”
She turned to the inquirer, the nice looking ambassador from before. (Sue her, Dani hadn’t been listening to the conversation. She had been trying to pinpoint the location of their grave!)
“How can I help?”
Ambassador lady smiled at her.
“We were unaware that our teammate had siblings, and clearly Daniel has introduced himself. May we ask your name?”
Dani grinned.
“Oh, I’m not a sibling. I’m sibling-adjacent. Sibling clone? One of those. My name is Danielle, but I go by Dani with an i. It gets a little confusing since he’s Danny with a y.”
“I see. Welcome to the Watchtower, Dani. May I ask what you and his majesty are looking for that was found here?”
“Our grave, of course! Since I’m Danny’s clone, I can feel it too- a little distantly, but it’s not like I’ll get my own. I was born dead.”
Ambassador lady was looking a little faint. Dani took pity on her.
“But now I’m a kickass princess, so all’s well that ends well.”
“I suppose so.” The ambassador looked over at Danny and surprise brother with a small smile. “I suppose so indeed.”
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kindaasrikal · 3 months
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Garmadon and Morro and their possible stupidity that should’ve been used in the departed realm, part 4:
Part 3 - Part 5
Morro: Garmadon.
Garmadon: Yes?
Morro: no, Garmadon-
Garmadon: What is it this time, child?
Morro: this is kidnapping.
Garmadon: *carrying Morro over his shoulder.* You must be a child to be kidnapped, Morro.
Morro: what exactly classifies as a kid to you.
Garmadon: Hm..I suppose a child is under 25 years. Mentally speaking for most Ninjagians, though for me and Wu I’d say somewhere around 5017 years?
Morro:….God, you’re old.
Garmadon: Wha-I am not-
Morro: besides the point, Garmadon how bloody old do you think i am???
Garmadon: Well…are you not 28?
Morro: excuse me. TWENTY EIGHT??
Garmadon: Ah, was I off? I did always assume you may just look a tad young for your age of 34.
Morro: THIRTYYY FOURRRRR???? YOU THINK IM THIRTY FOUR??
Garmadon: …Yes? Was I still a bit off?? *Garmadon, who is now thinking Morro might be in his early forties with great genes or skincare, everyone.*
Morro: Garmadon oh my GOD.
Morro: IM EIGHTEEN.
Garmadon:
Garmadon:
Garmadon: YOU’RE A BABY??????
Morro: A BABYY?????
Morro: I’M SORRY I’M SORRY I’M SORRY I’M SORRYYYYYY-
Garmadon: RUNNING WILL NOT PROTECT YOU FROM YOUR FATE, CHILD!
Morro: I DIDN’T KNOW!
Garmadon: HOW COULD YOU POSSIBLY NOT KNOW?!
Morro: WELL ITS NOT EVERYDAY YOU LEARN THE GARMADON COULD-
Garmadon: Finish that damn sentence. I dare you.
Morro: …no?
Garmadon: Ah, Morro! There you are, I was wondering-
Morro: Everyday I question my very existence. The overwhelming guilt that transcends my body feels as though it is choking me from the inside out. Like claws are scratching at my throat, golden coloured and dusted red with the insides of my very being. The regret that flows between my eyelids as I storm through a stampede of memories of what once was constantly fills my brain with tears of longing. I wonder, on a daily, what destiny had out for me. Did my endless running from my fate, only lead to the inevitability of my end?
Garmadon: ….Please, for the love of everything good, get therapy.
Morro: but then i don’t get to trauma dump on you at random :(
Morro: hey, Garmadon?
Garmadon: *smacks his hand onto Morro’s face and pushes him into the grass* You ask too many questions.
Morro: ow what-
Morro: personally, i think four legs would’ve been cooler.
Garmadon: Personally, I think green on black is an ugly combination.
Morro: *clutches his hair* well, personally, i think having red eyes just makes you look like a dumb cartoon character!
Garmadon: Wha- then personally, I think having a dirty gi on for decades is bad hygiene!
Morro: you and i both know i can’t change that! And personally, i think aging over a thousand years in just ten means you aged like milk!
Garmadon: And I think not aging at all for over four decades is just plain stupid!
Morro: wELL EXCUSE ME FOR DYING-
*in the distance (like a few feet away) two figures stand*
Cryptor:….what are they even doing?
Mystake: *pouring tea* hm?
Cryptor: I mean, why are they arguing like two toddlers??
Mystake: Ah, well.*sips tea* That maybe my fault.
Cryptor:…what did you do?
Mystake: I may, or may not, have accidentally given them the great idea of releasing their pent up anger through childish insults. It was only a coincidence they both chose each other as their victims. *grimaces as the voices get louder*
Cryptor: Well, *grabs a tea cup* it makes for good entertainment.
Garmadon: I DO NOT HAVE DADDY ISSUES!-
I find my self hilarious, guys please i think this is better then part 3 maybe hopefully possibly. The one with morro running away is something you can just lowkey assume on what morro found out/did (i like to think its cause Morro found out if you pull a dragons tail hard enough they jump onto the nearest, and tallest, thing and hold on for dear life like a cat whilst hissing, Garmadon hates it). The first one is under the impression they’re all still green. Also i was thinking of that meme audio about guessing someone’s age and each time it gets higher the person screams. If you know what I’m talking about.
Is this me trying to sell my Cryptor and Morro duo to you guys? As Garmadon’s students? Maybe. Also Mystake I love her guys her death was honestly heartbreaking to me.
Also if you wanna find the other parts I think clicking the tempest duo tag will show them.
Guys please i swear I’m funny-
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badomensbaby · 7 months
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so into you. lrh
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pairing: luke hemmings x fem!reader
summary: luke hemmings, a voice actor you've been working closely with for quite some time, ends up confessing just how into you he really is.
warnings: 18+ only. minors DNI. flirting/flustering, protected smut, degradation, praise kink, slight sir kink, dom/sub undertones, swearing, oral sex (female receiving), mask kink, explicit sexual content.
words: 4,680
a/n: iiiiii cannot express where i came up with this idea. i don't mention explicitly in this fic what video game luke's working on but in my head, it's COD MW3. (i may have a small obsession with ghost. whatever.) but alas, i left this fic alone for like a week and finished it on a whim. enjoy. x
feedback and constructive criticism welcome. requests are open!
Copyright © 2024 badomensbaby. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.
Ah, Luke Hemmings, the bane of your existence. 
It’s not that you hate him or anything, unless feeling so sick to your stomach because he’s too damn pretty to be working as a voice actor counts as hate, then maybe. But it’s really quite the opposite. 
You’ve been working at the video game development studio for almost two years. Your title has changed far too many times, as well as your responsibilities, but you get to see ideas come to life from the loose concept to the console screen so you can’t complain too much. 
Right now, you’re in the middle of a contract for a multiplayer war game. It’s a sequel, or a prequel- whatever, it doesn’t really matter. The franchise has been around for ages but they’re always coming up with new content and it’s part of your job to make sure every voice and cgi actor are dressed and ready to perform accordingly. 
Even though your manager can be a little overkill, like how he demands any voice actor be in full dress while they’re in the recording booth. It really doesn’t do much for their performance but your manager refuses to listen. 
You’re in the middle of skimming through your to-do list for the day. There’s three people who still need to get some lines of dialogue done for the storyline of the video game so it’s your responsibility to make sure they don’t fuck around in the booth all afternoon. First up, and is already late, is none other than Luke. 
It doesn’t surprise you. Despite looking like a total diva with his sharp jaw and soft, fluffy blonde curls that seem to be immune to any humidity, always laying so perfectly, he was probably the sweetest guy in the industry you’d ever met. Always polite and charming. Sometimes you think he might be flirting with you but it’s likely he’s just that nice. 
A paper cup of branded coffee suddenly invades your vision, blocking your view of the list you’ve been working on all morning. It’s warm and smells like cinnamon, your favorite. Looking up, way way up because he’s impossibly tall, is Luke, with a half-crooked smile and bright blue eyes. 
“Mornin’ Miss Y/N,” he says, despite the cheeriness on his face his voice is slightly raspy. You try not to think about it too much. It’s only eight am and you’re stuck listening to Luke in the booth until noon. “Blonde roast with cinnamon. You still drink that, right?”
Skeptically, you take the cup from him. Luke doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest by your hesitance. “Thank you?” It’s meant to be a statement but it slips out as more of a question. “Is this why you’re late, Hemmings?”
A glint of mischief flickers in his eyes. “Why, were you worried about me?”
Your stomach seems to flutter rather easily at his words. Shut up, brain! Luke’s a coworker, stop it. “We’ve only got four hours in the booth and almost fifty lines of dialogue,” You roll your eyes, trying to remain professional. “We need every minute we can get.”
“Fair enough, I’ll go get dressed. Have you got my gear ready?” Luke sips at his own drink and you can smell it from where you stand only a foot away. Chai tea latte with hazelnut. Man has taste. 
“Yeah,” You clear your throat, trying to keep your eyes away from the frothy milk of his latte dribbling down the side of his lip. Christ. “Yeah everything’s ready to go. Just get your gear on and meet me in the booth.”
“Aye aye, captain,” The blonde mock-salutes you with a wink, before heading off to his dressing room down the hall. Thankful for the ability to properly breathe again, you quickly shake your head and go inside of the small recording studio and begin to organize the dialogue Luke’s meant to be working on this morning. 
It’s almost as if you forget how to operate when Luke steps into the small room. It’s only the two of you today, as the sound technician won’t be in until later but you have a decent grasp on which recorded lines will sound best in the final production. 
Luke’s already absurdly tall, well over six feet but with his full gear on he’s pushing halfway to seven feet. With thick combat boots on his feet, and full camo gear covering every inch of his lengthy body. A thick, heavy armor carrier plate is fixed against his chest, and his mask is held loosely in his hand. You force yourself to swallow the thick lump stuck in your throat. 
“Can you turn the air on?” Luke asks, oblivious to how you’re struggling to breathe when he looks like that. “M’gonna fuckin’ roast in there if you don’t.”
“Yeah- yeah, sure,” You stumble both verbally and physically, barely managing to catch yourself as you twist behind you to turn the air a little cooler in the small room. It won’t help the flush that’s spreading across every inch of your body. You can’t face him yet, so you pretend like changing the temperature is a little more time consuming than it really is. “You can go ahead whenever.”
The sound booth’s door shuts with a soft click. Your heart’s beating a little hard but at least there’s thick glass separating yourself and Luke now, and once you’re sitting with headphones on you’ll barely be able to see him. God, what a terrible time to remember that stupid masked man fantasy of yours. 
Luke does well, as usual, hitting the perfect low pitch for his character that your manager hired him for. He plays the character well, you have to admit, hearing his voice rasped and grovely is almost too much. You lower the volume on the headphones just to spare yourself the embarrassment of getting worked up. 
It’s eleven-thirty when he finishes up. Every line of dialogue is near perfect and you’re sure they’ll make production without a hitch, so you have no qualms about turning off the recording light that illuminates the hall outside of the small studio. 
You’re in the process of organizing the recorded files for the sound technician to look over when Luke steps out of the booth. 
Instead of peeling the mask from his head, he left it on, his gloved hands clasped on the doorframe a few inches above his head. Christ, he looks like he stepped out of a fairly inappropriate fantasy dream you could conjure up after a glass or two of wine. “Even got time to spare.”
You can tell Luke’s smirking beneath the black and white mask, if the glimmer in his baby blue eyes is anything to go by. You just blink, too dumb to come up with anything to say, pulling the headphones to rest around your neck. “Uh- you- you did great.”
“Thanks, Miss Y/N,” his head cocks, helmet almost knocking into the side of the door frame but Luke doesn’t notice. “I love when you compliment me. I know you mean it.”
Your cheeks feel hot. It’s too warm in here, that’s all. Maybe the air isn’t working or something. “I do mean it,” you say softly. “You’re a great voice actor. I’d be lying if I said otherwise.”
Luke drops his hands from the door frame, instead leaning against it, his eyes still fixed on you. “You okay over there? You look a bit flushed.”
“M’fine sir- Luke,” You quickly clear your throat, hoping Luke hadn’t caught your stupid slip up. How fucking embarrassing, do you not have a filter? Suddenly a man all dressed up in gear and a mask has you calling him sir? Get a grip! 
“Sir?” Luke echoes, his voice syrupy sweet and laced with curiosity. “That’s a new one. Usually all I get from you is Hemmings. I like that, you should call me sir more often.”
You want to look away but it’s impossible. Like a damn car crash, your eyes are fixated on the tall man. It’s fucking sinful how good he looks like that. “It was- it was nothing, don’t read into it.” You deflect. 
“Yeah, okay,” Luke says sarcastically, followed up by a slow, dramatic sigh. “It’s a shame, though. Figured you’d finally admit you’re into me so I can stop pining after you in silence.”
Your eyes widen. “What?” 
A low laugh erupts from Luke’s chest. “Don’t tell me you’re that oblivious, Y/N. I’ve been obsessed with you since day one. Why do you think we’re always working together?”
“My manager said I’m doing well-“
“That was after I gave him season passes to every game the Dodgers play, sweetheart. Told him I won’t work for him unless m’with you.”
Your brows knit in confusion. Has your growth within your position all been at Luke’s doing? You’ve been working with him nearly as long as you’ve been with the company. And suddenly it all makes sense. 
Why your manager never seemed to care what you’ve been working so hard for, complimenting you regardless of any efforts shown to him. Why he doesn’t hang around the studio anymore to micromanage your every move. 
You stand abruptly. “You asshole!” The words escape without a second thought. “You bribed my manager so you could work with me? That’s- that’s…”
“I thought you’d be flattered,” Luke says, almost somberly but you know he’s anything but. He’s a voice actor for crying out loud, he can make himself sound however he wants, regardless if it’s real. “What’s the big deal anyway? You have almost total freedom and you’re stuck with me all the time. It’s a win-win.”
Whatever attraction you have towards Luke is pushed to the back burner of your mind. Yeah, you have a stupid crush on him but how could he meddle with your job like that? The two of you aren’t even friends, he had no right.
“That wasn’t your decision to make. Who knows now if I’m doing well because of me or because of you? Terry could be spewing bullshit about my performance reviews to keep you happy!”
“You’re being dramatic,” Luke drones lazily. “Of course you’re doing well because of you. All I did was keep us working together, s’not like I fucking paid Terry off to give you a promotion.”
“I don’t know that!” You yell frustratedly, fists balling at your sides. “God- you- take that fucking mask off, would you?”
Luke remains still. “Now why would I do that?” he asks lowly, stepping toward you. Your shoulders draw inward, despite your attempt to keep confident. “Clearly it’s distracting you. Which I think is working in my favor.”
“It’s not.” You mutter weakly. 
“Liars aren’t cute,” Luke tuts. “What, does my mask get you all hot and bothered, Miss Y/N? Huh? Because I’m bigger than you? Because I can do anything I want to you and you can’t stop me?”
“Luke-“
“Tell me I’m wrong, Y/N,” his voice impossibly lowers, until it’s a hushed rasp, his chest only a mere few inches from yours. Craning your neck to look up at him easily makes you weak in the knees. You know he’s right and you can’t find the words to tell him otherwise. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
Your lip quivers nervously. The words are right there, the lie you could easily spew but it won’t make it off of your tongue. His eyes are too dark to resist, swirls of pretty blue swallowed by his pupils. Blown out and expectant. “You..”
“You can’t, can you? Because you know I’m right,” Luke continues, clearly feeding off of the nerves you’re trying to swallow down. It’s written all over your face, you’re sure of it. Like a book printed in size twenty bold font. “I’m not stupid, Y/N. I see the way you look at me. I watch you quiver every time I put my gear on,”
Nothing escapes you except a helpless, trembling whimper. One of Luke’s gloved hands slowly raises to push a strand of loose hair behind your ear. Your eyes are nearly brimming with tears of frustration, of how badly you’re ready to give in to him, of how stupid you feel, wet and desperate between your thighs. It’s the mask, you try to tell yourself, but it’s useless because you know damn well it’s a lie. 
It isn’t the mask, rather the person behind it. Luke’s probably the most attractive person you’ve met in a long time, it was inevitable you’d end up crushing on him, but when he’s in full dress you can’t deny there’s something inside of you that seems to light a flame inside of you that’s impossible to put out. 
“What is it you like so much, hm?” Luke’s head cocks curiously, his cloudy eyes slowly raking over your body. You can tell he’s smirking beneath the mask at how tightly your hands are balled into fists at your sides, holding yourself back from doing something you shouldn’t. “You know what I think? I think you like giving up control. Obeying. Submitting. And when I’m dressed like this you really have no choice but to listen to me.”
“Luke..” your lips weakly spew the man’s name out. He seems to hum in content, he knows you’re close to giving in. He wants to push you over that line. Cross it with no shame. “I..”
Luke’s gloved hand grasps your jaw, firmly but delicately, so much so that it makes your head feel dizzy. “Speak up,” he demands lowly. “Tell me what you want.”
“I..” You can hardly meet his eyes. It’s pathetic of you, trembling like this and stuttering over yourself. Luke knows it too. “I want.. you.”
“Me?” He echoes, but it sounds a little demeaning the way it falls from his mouth. “You’re not giving me much to work with here, Y/N. Better spit it out.”
“I.. want..” Your eyes threaten to fall shut. You’ve never really been confident when it comes to sex but there’s something about the way Luke’s speaking to you that makes you feel a bit bold. Maybe it’s a leap but fuck, you won’t know unless you try. 
With a trembling, hesitant hand, you grasp Luke’s unoccupied wrist, slowly drawing his hand downwards until it’s caressing your clothed core. “You. Please.”
Luke actually whimpers. It could easily be mistaken for a breathy sigh but you’ve been listening to this man’s every vocality for years, you know nearly every noise he can make. “Christ, Y/N,” It’s as if he wasn’t expecting your bold move. “I swear to God I’ll fuck you right here. I will, if you’ll let me.”
“Yeah- yes,” You frantically nod, too dizzy to provide any other words of confirmation. It’s all Luke needs, really, before he’s pressing his hand harder against your damp underwear, warm and inviting, he swears he can almost feel your arousal through his glove. “Luke, please.”
“Yeah, m’gonna take care of you, promise,” Luke releases your jaw, working to strip his gloves from his hands. You almost whimper from the loss of contact but you know what’s coming next is far better than a measly touch outside of your pants. “Gonna be a good girl for me, Y/N?”
You whimper out something along the lines of “yes” that Luke seems to be satisfied with because he’s planting a firm hand on your shoulder and spinning you around, using his grip to shove your body forward until your palms collide with the sound booth’s desk. Careful to avoid pressing any buttons you shouldn’t, you adjust yourself slightly, breaths heavy as Luke shuffles behind you. 
You can feel how hard he is through the thick, camo pants he’s wearing, cock strained against the fabric and digging into your backside. Your toes curl inside of your shoes. He feels big. You feel Luke’s fingers tease at the waistband of your jeans. “Can I?”
“Yes- fuck,” You mutter through gritted teeth. There isn’t anything for you to properly hold on to while Luke’s fingers work to unbutton and unzip your jeans, before shimmying them down your hips and the swell of your ass, leaving them pooled just above your knees. 
“Don’t have a lot of time, Y/N, Mark’s up next isn’t he?” Luke slowly teases his fingers along the dampened material of your underwear, resulting in the soft arch of your back as your hips move closer to him. “Such a shame. The things I’d do for a taste of that pretty pussy..”
“Luke, can you just-“ You’re filled to the brim with frustration, desperately wet and on the edge of bratty at the amount of time Luke’s wasting. He seems to understand easily, because a hand comes down on your left cheek, leaving a pretty little pink handprint on your skin. 
“Don’t be a fuckin’ brat,” Luke says around a scoff, sliding your underwear down to join your jeans a little rougher than necessary. “Just for that, m’gonna fuckin’ do it. Don’t care if Mark comes in here to see my tongue deep inside your needy cunt.”
Luke’s words are sent straight to your core, stupidly wet and braindead from how badly you’re soaking the skin between your thighs. You hear the sound of Luke’s knees hitting the carpeted floor, the sound of his mask shuffling and the feeling of his warm breath on your flushed skin. 
Luke’s thumbs sink into your flesh easily, spreading you fully for him, your body falling further forward and ass in the air. You know you’re glistening pathetically, all for a hot blonde voice actor in some stupid war gear. “Y/N, you’re fuckin’ drenched. Holy shit,” Luke mumbles in disbelief. “You’re so goddamn pretty.”
You aren’t sure if Luke’s going to continue speaking but it doesn’t matter, his tongue’s busy trailing a fat, long stripe along your heat. Christ, his tongue is so goddamn warm, humming happily against you as he works, alternating between suckling your clit between his teeth and nuzzling his nose against you. Like he just can’t get enough. 
Blindly, your hand slips and without either of you being aware, the recording light outside of the small room has been illuminated. 
“You taste so fucking good, Y/N. So goddamn good,” He hums again before diving back in, practically fucking his tongue inside of you every which way, like he’s claiming you and drawing his name with every lick. You let out a soft, helpless cry when his teeth graze your clit again. “Could eat your pretty pussy for hours, baby. Wanna spread you out on my bed like a fuckin’ feast.”
“Luke-“ Your voice wobbles, a desperate breath following. You’re so fucking lightheaded it’s insane, all you crave is Luke inside of you. “Luke, please. Please fuck me.”
“Yeah baby, gonna fuck you,” Luke presses a quick, messy kiss against your clit before he pulls back, running his tongue along his lips to gather any excess. You don’t hear him slip the mask back on but you definitely hear his belt unbuckle, along with the fly of his camo pants. “Look at you, what a fuckin’ dream. Bent over and fuckin’ soaked, begging for my cock.”
The sound of Luke tearing a condom packet open with his teeth catches your attention. You hardly have enough strength to look over your shoulder but he’s already rolling the latex over his dick that’s just out of your view. “Where did you get-“ You don’t get to finish your sentence because the words die out in your throat, replaced with a strangled gasp as you feel the head of Luke’s cock slowly trail up your wetness. “Oh, fuck.”
Luke makes a smug, pleased sound before slowly pressing inside of you. And yeah, fuck, he’s definitely bigger than anyone you’ve slept with. Which, honestly, hasn’t been very many people. “Yeah, that’s it,” You hear Luke sigh behind you, hands attaching to your hips as he continues to feed his dick further inside. “Fuck, you’re swallowing my cock up. So desperate for it, aren’t you?”
It’s almost too much. Your eyes pinch shut, teeth sinking into your lower lip to keep the tears at bay. He’s stretching you out so good every inch he sinks inside, until he’s buried to the hilt and stills his hips. “Luke.. fuck, you’re- you’re big.”
You hear Luke chuckle behind you. His fingertips press harder into your hips. “What’s the point of being so cocky if I don’t have anything to show for it?” he says, amused but a little breathless. He’s just as affected by your tight warmth as you are by his sizable dick. “Don’t tell me it’s too much for you, Y/N. You’re a big girl, I know you can take it.”
“Just.. give me a minute?”
“We don’t have enough time, baby,” Luke says soothingly, almost somberly. “I promise you’ll get used to it.”
You intake a sharp, quick breath as Luke withdraws his hips. It’s definitely too big. There’s no way you’ll be able to fuck anyone ever again without remembering how full Luke made you feel.
 Then Luke snaps his hips forward and the tears you were desperately trying to hold back fall freely down your cheeks. A borderline scream falls from your mouth and you tighten around his dick, only drawing a groan deep from Luke’s throat as he begins thrusting in a steady, needy rhythm. 
So quick and forceful that the sound of his hips snapping against your backside echoes the sound room. So desperate that your body falls forward, chest splayed against the desk and Luke’s carrier plate wedged into your back, his masked breaths deep and warm on your neck. You cry out from the new angle, hitting that perfect spot inside of you. “Oh fuck- Luke- god- right there, fuck-“
“Yeah?” Luke asks in a low moan, digging his blunt fingernails into your waist as his thrusts grow more determined and quick, your body rucking upwards from his forceful movements. All you can do is wail and whine against the desk helplessly. “God, Y/N, you feel so good wrapped around my cock. Lettin’ me fuck you, such a good girl.”
Your position is definitely uncomfortable but you’re too cockdrunk to even care. You know you’ll cum soon, especially when Luke’s fucking you at such a brutal pace there’s a tingling that’s spreading from your toes all the way to your spine. You clench around Luke’s cock, only soaking your thighs further as more arousal coats his covered length. 
“Baby, fuck,” Luke’s voice is strained, one hand detaching from your hip to grab at your hair, fisting the strands between his fingers, craning your neck upwards until his masked mouth settles near your ear. “You’re fuckin’ soakin’ my cock, Y/N. Wonder what Mark would think if he found me buried in this sweet little pussy, huh? Think he’d be jealous? Of how desperate you are for me?”
“Oh my god-“ You know it’s coming, your legs feel like static and your head is spinning. Your vision’s beginning to blur as the beginning of your orgasm starts to crash over you. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, Luke-“
“Call me sir,” He’s fucking relentless, pounding into you like he’s got something to prove. It’s messy and slippery and wet, echoing the small room. “Call me sir and you can cum, Y/N.”
“Oh sir, oh my god sir-“
“Come on baby, that’s it, cum all over my cock,” Luke coaxes you, breathing warmly against the skin of your neck. Your nails scratch desperately on the desk as you finally let go, letting out a long string of pleading moans as you finish, clenching tightly around him. “Oh christ- Y/N- yeah, that’s my good girl.”
“Oh my god..” Luke doesn’t stop even after you’ve finished, snapping his hips more forcefully than before. 
“Fuck, gonna cum,” Luke pants out. “Wanna cum all over your pretty face. Can I? Please baby, want it so bad.”
“Ye-yeah,” You half mumble, half moan. 
Your body’s in Luke’s hands as he quickly slips out of you, discarding the condom and wrapping a hand around himself, helping you slink back until you’re on your knees. Confused, you’re unable to question why you’re facing the wrong way until Luke’s hand is on your jaw and tilting your head backwards. 
And that’s a fucking view. It’s upside down, Luke’s masked face staring down at you as his hand works furiously over his leaking, hard cock, groaning and panting. “Fuck, open your mouth.”
You comply, happily letting your tongue fall flat over your lower lip, eyelashes fluttering until you hear a low, guttural groan from Luke’s throat, painting your cheeks and lips and eyelashes in pretty ropes of milky white. 
“Ohhh fuck,” Luke’s strokes slow, milking himself until every last drop is coating some part of your face. “Fuck Y/N… you look so goddamn pretty covered in my cum.”
What doesn’t stay on your face ends up dribbling onto your t-shirt. You don’t really care at the moment, fucked dumb as you curiously swipe your tongue along anywhere you can reach to taste Luke’s release. You let out a soft, pleased and rasped, “Thank you, sir.”
Luke finds some tissues to clean you up, helping you slide your underwear and jeans back on. Once you’ve regained your breath, and began the short trip back to reality, you feel your cheeks grow stupidly hot. Luke slips his mask off. 
“Where the hell is Mark?” he asks curiously. 
“That’s what you’re worried about?” You ask in a soft voice. You really want to ask what this means, the two of you hooking up like this. Was he actually into you or using that as an excuse to get in your pants? 
“He’s like thirty minutes late,” Luke shrugs, running a hand through his flattened curls. “Why? What’re you worried about?”
Your mouth clasps shut. “Nothing, it doesn’t matter,” You turn away, busying yourself with the paperwork you’d brought inside with you. “I have more recording sessions to do. And you probably have somewhere to be.”
“Y/N..” Luke frowns. 
“What?” You snap unintentionally, turning to face Luke with narrowed eyes. “What, Luke?”
“This wasn’t like..” he trails off, looking a bit nervous. It almost makes you feel bad for snapping at him like that. “A one-time thing for me, Y/N. I.. I’m into you.”
“Really?” You ask softly. “You’re not just saying that because I let you.. fuck me?”
“No,” Luke slips out a short chuckle, stepping towards you. “No, I told you m’obsessed with you. This only makes it worse. You’re not getting rid of me.”
“We can talk about this after my recording sessions, alright Hemmings?” Your lips lift into a soft, almost shy smile. Luke does the same, his eyes hopeful. 
“Maybe over dinner?” He asks. 
“Pick me up at six.” You counter. 
Luke dips to press a soft kiss against your cheek. “Text me your address. I’ll go figure out where Mark is and kick his ass for being late.”
You roll your eyes. “If he would’ve been on time that wouldn’t have ended well for both of us, Hemmings,” Luke’s halfway out the door, pausing and turning to you with a sly grin. “What? What is it?”
“Someone left the recording light on. No wonder Mark didn’t bother,” Luke chuckles, amused. “Hey.. I wonder what else we did by accident..” His eyes flicker towards the sound table’s knobs and buttons, your own widening in fear. Which switches were off before? You hadn’t paid attention to anything when your chest was pressed against it. Fuck, what if you-
You turn to reprimand Luke for putting that thought into your head but he’s gone. Before you text Mark, letting him know that you’re available to record, you double check the recording logs for anything out of the ordinary. With pink cheeks, you text Luke your address and a vague note. 
you: [123 Main St]
you: also.. seems we might’ve had an accident. 
you: file.mp3
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disillusioneddanny · 8 months
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People Watching (Jason/Danny)
Jason leaned back in his seat at the bookshop, his eyes no longer on his book but the couple in front of him.  They were around college age, from what Jason could see. He had started watching them when blond girl started laughing at a joke until she started to cry. It hadn’t been an all that funny joke, either but it was cute the way she seemed to hang on the brunet man’s every single word. From what Jason got from their eavesdropping, they had been together for four years. Or well, forty nine months since they had decided to loudly count out the months. 
She had a ring on her finger but she still called him her boyfriend. And they had talked about meeting in some class, metaphysical philosophy, the guy had supplied. Jason’s heart felt light as he listened to them, he was happy for them, he was. 
It was why he was watching them, why he was listening to the guy, his name was Jeremy, apparently, as he teased Hannah, the blond, about how she acted around the holidays. His heart felt light and he felt a longing that he recognized so insanely intimately. It was the same ache that he got any time he spent time people watching. 
He wanted to feel all that love and emotion for himself one day. Dreamt of the day that he would be able to be attached to the person he was holding, not just having someone warm his bed for the night. He wanted to fall without caution, to be so utterly in love with someone that he laughed at their bad jokes.  
He didn’t know if that would ever actually happen for him, though. How could it when he had screwed up so many things in his life? He had died, come back, become a murderer, a crime lord and practically ruined any chance he had at a normal life. Jason had dreams once upon a time, hopes that he wanted to accomplish one day. He had wanted to go to college and fall in love like the couple in front of him had. That wasn’t in the cards, though, not for someone who was still considered legally dead. 
“They’re so cute it’s disgusting,” a voice said with a snort. Jason looked up from his book to find someone taking a seat beside him on the plush couch, a coffee mug wrapped in their hands. “But yet, I still always get wistful when I see couples like that,” they said softly. 
“Yeah, me too,” Jason said quietly, picking up his mug of tea. 
“I’m Danny,” the man said as Jason took a moment to look over his new people watching partner. He was just a little shorter than Jason, dark black hair was pulled back into a bun at the back of his head. Jason could just barely see a hint of a tattoo peeking out from the collar of Dnany’s shirt. But the thing that really got him, was the crystal blue eyes that seemed to shine in the low lights of the cheesy hipster coffee shop they were sitting in.
“Jason,” the vigilante said with a small smile. “So, I’m assuming you’re a people watcher too?”
Danny let out a hum. “I suppose, I mean, I’m only looking just to live through them vicariously. I’ve never really been in love, at least not seriously,” he said quietly, his eyes glued to the couple, a familiar longing in his eyes. 
Jason gave him a small, tentative smile. “No I get it,” he said with a soft laugh as he looked back at the couple, the man now holding the woman’s hand in his and staring at her like she was the only person in the world. “I have a problem with cutting people out if they get too close. I end up all alone each time, but for some reason I just keep hoping that I’ll find it one day.”
Danny nodded and took a sip of his coffee before he looked over at Jason and gave him a kind smile. “It’s scary,” he admitted quietly. “To let someone get so close, to let them love you, even the bad parts of you that you try to keep hidden away.”
“It is,” Jason admitted, carefully closing his book, taking note of the page he had left it on. “It’s funny, I read so many romance novels, I love romantic comedies but to actually allow myself to feel vulnerable like that in my day to day life? It’s fuckin’ terrifying.”
At that, his new friend let out a soft laugh and nodded his head. “It’s so scary to let someone know me. It’s just so much safer to just not allow people to get close and know all of my secrets. But at the same time,  it’s all just so monotone and lonely,” he said, his eyes still shining with an unspoken sadness. 
Jason knew what he was going to say next was going to sound cheesy as fuck. Knew that there was a chance that Danny was going to laugh in his face. But he had to try, had to just give himself a moment to shoot his shot and see if maybe it would work. How could it not? Even if Danny didn’t know Jason’s exact problems or hangups, he still understood where Jason was coming from. Knew just as well at how terrifying it was to let someone know him. 
“I know we just met, and I started this conversation in a really depressing way,” Danny started, turning to fully look at Jason. “But I actually came over here to get to know you. I saw you when I was ordering my coffee and I just, I wanted to get to know you,” he said before his face turned a bright red as he looked down at his coffee and blushed. “I’m sorry, I’m being weird.”
“No,” Jason said with a small smile. “You’re not, not at all. I’d like to keep talking to you. You get it,” he said, feeling his own cheeks heat up slightly at the admission. 
“I get it,” Danny asked, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Jason just snorted and shook his head. “What are you reading?”
“Anna Karenina,” Jason admitted, showing the cover. “It’s considered one of the greatest pieces of literature ever written.”
Danny smiled, a beautiful thing showing off dimples in his cheeks. “Tell me about it? I’ve never read it.”
A wide grin spread on Jason’s face as he launched into an in depth summary about Anna Karenina and why it was one of his favorite novels of all time. 
Somehow a coffee meet cute turned into a coffee date, and then a coffee date turned into a dinner date. The dinner date led to Danny inviting Jason over for dinner and a movie. And that led to book dates and movie dates, it turned into spending more days at Danny’s house than he did at his safe houses. It led to nights in bed, the lights out and the blankets over their heads as they learned each others deepest secrets, whispering childhood stories and childhood traumas to one another in the safety of the dark. 
Jason found himself falling more and more as each day passed by. He found himself holding Danny in his arms as he dreamed about a house behind a picket fence, and started building a home for himself in Danny’s embrace. 
“I love you,” was whispered between the two of them late at night. Soon Jason found himself meeting Danny’s family, a sister and two best friends who were like siblings to him. And Danny found himself being dragged to the manor to meet the insane hoard of siblings and an emotionally repressed father. 
Secrets were passed between them, talks about their deaths, their lives as teen heroes, the desire to just have something normal. That led to the agreement of being one another’s something normal. 
It eventually led to Jason moving into Danny’s home, boxes carried between them and friends as they unpacked Jason’s things and melded their lives together. 
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Danny said with a laugh as he fell onto the couch beside Jason, throwing a blanket over their legs after. He smiled as he held out his hand to show off the silver band that Jason had just given him hours before. 
“I can’t believe you walked up to a random stranger to talk about people watching and it led to this,” Jason murmured, nipping at Danny’s earlobe. Danny snorted and turned his head to give the vigilante a soft kiss. 
“Worth it,” he murmured, cupping Jason’s face in his hands. “Completely and absolutely worth it.”
“I love you, Danny Todd,” Jason murmured, rubbing his nose against Danny’s.  
“I love you too, Jason Todd,” Danny whispered, his lips a hair’s breadth away from Jason’s. “Thanks for letting me in.”
Jason just smiled. “Thanks for not cutting me out,” he murmured before closing the distance between them and kissing his husband deeply.
Come chat with me on the new DPxDC 18+ SFW Discord Server! Dm me for an invite if you're 18 or older<3
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eclairfromleclerc · 8 months
Text
Hello people! It’s been a while since my last chapter but the writer’s block was humongous and I kept pushing myself to write the next chapter. It is another long one, almost 25K words. Please excuse me for my long ass absence and stay with me for the rest of the story! I hope you’ll enjoy the newest part and I can’t wait to see your opinion and comments on it. Take care. Until the next one <3 xx
All’s Fair
(Toto Wolff x Reader!Horner) Chapter 9
chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4 chapter 5 chapter 6 chapter 7 chapter 8
Monaco has the best sunny days in the whole world. You’ve loved going out under the Mediterranean sun every time your family visited Monaco when you were young. Now laying on the couch that you’ve spent almost all of your summers on, you see the light entering the apartment. Music plays in the background as your friend Sara is making coffee in the kitchen and you are laying in her living room as you’ve always done. 
After the victory celebrations on Sunday you left the track and flew straight back to Nice. Your childhood friend Sara picked you up and you’ve been staying in her family’s house in Monaco for the past 2 days. Those days passed by with your usual activities. Having coffee in the casino square, going out clubbing, cooking, gossiping and in general doing girly things. As soon as you arrived in Monaco you visited the apartment that Sara proposed and booked it right away as you had already asked for your belongings to be moved to Monte Carlo. The only thing left for you to do is to move all of those things to the apartment. The thing about being in Monaco is that now you are able to show the world where you are. During the past weekend there was just speculation about where you actually were. You had managed to place yourself in Monaco with some instagram posts but no one knew (well except for Toto and Lewis) that you still were in Jeddah.
“Sweetheart coffee is ready.” Sara yells from the kitchen 
“Bitch I don’t drink coffee” you answer “You haven’t seen me in a month and you already forgot?” 
“Shut up, I made you your Earl Grey just how you like to drink it” she says and you’ve already made your way to the kitchen 
“Thank you idiot” you tell her
“You’re welcome, your majesty,” she says, mocking you for your tea preferences. You sit down opposite to her and start drinking your tea. “So” she interrupts the silence “Do you remember Marc?” she asks 
“Marc who?” you ask
“Marc Taylor.”
“S, are you serious? Are you asking me if I remember the guy I had a crush on for ages?” you ask her
“Well you’ve met a lot of people since you started working in F1 and I genuinely thought you forgot him” she says “Anyways, he saw the story I reposted from yesterday night  at Jimmy’z and replied to it. He asked me if we wanted to join him today.” 
“Join him where?” you ask intrigued
“He will be having a brunch party at his yacht.” she says trying to hype it up 
“Ugh, I’m not sure I want to see so many people.” you say 
“Come on Horner, it’s going to be so great. We haven’t had a brunch party at a yacht in ages, the last time we did was when you graduated.” she pauses “Plus he told me not to hype it up, the only people there will be his friend group.” 
“Marc’s friend group is 15 people. I am only willing to see 5.” 
“Why are you acting like a 65 year old with depression, come onnn.”
“Because my job drains me to the point that I just want to stay at home with a cup of tea and read a good book. I am with people every day and during the weekend I am chased by cameras and fans.” you tell her as she looks at you mockingly “I know, I know. I chose this life and to be frank I love the whole fame,chase and clout that comes with it. But during my non-race weekends, I need to have a detox.”
“You had your whole week off, enough paddock detox, enough people detox. What were you doing in Jeddah? Meditating, visiting the four seasons’ spa, drinking coffee, eating expensive meals. That’s enough, now we get to party.” 
Little does she know that you weren’t actually meditating, not visiting spas, not even staying at a four seasons’ but at a Ritz. You take a look at your best friend as she puts on her puppy eyes. 
“Pretty please.” she says and she crosses her hands as if she’s begging “Do it for me Horner, it’s going to be fun. It’s part of your new life after all. People here in Monaco have brunch yacht parties really often, so you better get your ass ready. We are going.” she says.
You shrug in response, but actually get up from the chair and go to the guest room where all of your belongings currently are. You open your suitcase and take out the sundress you wore the day you and Toto went for coffee together and match it with a pair of Hermes sandals. The weather is now sunny in Monaco and you actually love how it is a great mix of sun, breeze and heat. You put on some makeup and style your hair as loosely as you can, you’re going to be in the sea after all. Later both you and Sara leave the house and go to the location that Marc dropped a pin on. You can hear people talking from the other side of the yacht, the one that faces the Mediterranean. You quickly jump on the platform on the back of the yacht and walk up to the place where everyone’s sitting. 
“Hello everyone.” you say and you see Marc standing up approaching you. Sara is just behind and she waves everyone but doesn’t get any closer to you. Marc comes to your side and hugs you. 
“Miss Horner.” he says in awe “It’s been a long long time hasn’t it?” he asks 
“It has. Thank you for the invitation.” you say “We brought a little something.” you say and you hand him the bottle of Dom that you’ve been holding. 
“It’s really no big deal, I wanted to see you and Sara so I just texted. Thanks for the Champagne.” 
By the time both of you stop interacting, Sara is already sitting on the table and speaking to everyone. You take a seat, far from her in the only two empty chairs and Marc emerges shortly after to take the seat next to you. Without asking he starts filling your plate. 
“You should definitely try the Croque Madame, it’s a miracle.” he says and you smile at him 
“I will, thanks.” you reply as you register his existence next to you. He’s the most charming guy you’ve met, well less than Toto but to be frank, you can see why you were heads over heels with him. At that moment you decide to snap a photo and text Toto.
You 
[Photo]
Much earned gift for my last week’s performance
Wolff
You better recharge, I want you on your A level in Baku. 
[Photo] 
The weather here is freaking awful, I miss Monaco. 
You 
Wait, you actually know how to send pictures? Monaco is amazing today. You should have been here.
Wolff
Replying: Remember who gives you access to the paddock. 
If I were there you wouldn’t be in that yacht right now.
You 
Toto behave, you’re at work. 
Wolff
I’m at a business meeting and I hate those so why not distract myself with some other thought. 
You 
Because I’m so hot you’re going to embarrass yourself. Gotta go now, I've got a whole yacht waiting for me
Wolff
I don't blame them. Have fun, just not too much ;)
You laugh at Toto’s texts as Marc watches you at the same time 
"Are you bored of us" he asks
"No, I just have to text someone" you reply 
"Red Bull keeps getting you busy I see?" he asks 
"Actually, I am not in Red Bull for the time being, I am just enjoying myself  and I am actually moving here next week" 
"Great decision to be honest. Monaco could use a distraction." He says 
"So I've been told" you tell him
"By whom?" he asks and you realize you cannot possibly talk about Toto with him 
"Just a good friend" you laugh 
“ah one of those best friends, I get it" he says and you nod not showing any emotion at all over what it meant
“Are you enjoying yourself in F1?” he asks trying to start conversation with you
“I am. It is a space I’ve grown up in and I already knew everyone as well as everyone knew me. There’s nothing different as to what I’ve lived up to now except for the fact that I have a little bit more screen time than I used to have 5 years ago.” 
“Well 5 years ago I used to see you almost every week and now I have to watch F1 to see you.” he says
“You watch F1 now?” 
“I always watched F1.” he says 
“I’m pretty sure you’ve only watched the Monaco Grand Prix.” 
“Until this year.” he replies “Plus I have a really good reason.” 
“What’s the reason? Max’s racecraft?” 
“Nah, you are” he says and you freeze temporarily
“I’m flattered.” 
“I meant it as a compliment so you should be.” he tells you and he looks at you with a flirty look and you turn to look at Sara who is already too invested in her conversation with Marc’s friend, Tristan. 
The rest of the brunch party goes on in a pretty similar way. Marc keeps flirting with you and Sara is way too busy to come to your rescue. At some point the yacht leaves Monaco and sails in the Mediterranean for two or three hours while all of you party on the deck. Now the sun is setting down the horizon and you return back to the harbor of Monaco and the party has already winded down so you find yourself sitting on a chair sipping your last glass of champagne. Sara is nowhere to be seen, probably too busy making out with Tristan on the inside of Marc’s yacht since they’ve been missing for the last 45 minutes or so. The chair opposite to you is empty but not for long. As soon as Marc spots you he leaves his friends and comes to your company. 
“Did you enjoy the party?” he asks
“It’s been a while since I partied like this but I loved it. Now relaxing with a glass of champagne is the must thing to do.” 
“There’s plenty of space inside if you want to lay down for a while.” he tells you
“I think the space might be occupied by our friends and as close as I am with Sara today isn’t the day that I want to listen to her having sex with your best friend.” you laugh
“The yacht has 6 cabins. I very much doubt all 6 of them are taken.”
“6 cabins huh? The Taylors really have given it some thought before spending money on this yacht.”
“Yeah, my mom insisted. But hey, that’s why we’re working our asses off every day. To spend on things like this.” 
“So you are working?” you ask him
“Yeah, I’ve taken over some of my dad’s companies and I’ve been living between Monaco and Switzerland for a while.” 
“And how is it?” 
“You know how it is. We’ve learnt to live in this world. I love the job but really that’s all I focus on. Thank god all these fuckers are around and remind me that I need to have a work life balance.”
“Oh my god. Marc Taylor is a workaholic?” you say surprised “You need people to remind you to live for a while instead of working?” 
“My mom is so afraid that I won’t even have a wife that she’s trying to get me to meet eligible bachelorettes.”
“Lisa is actually doing this?” you ask shocked
“Lisa has been asking me to ask you on a date for months” he tells you and you laugh hysterically.
“Well tell Lisa that I am twice the workaholic that you are. I am not working and living, I am living my life at work. I am constantly working.”
“How does it feel?”
“It does get a little lonely at times. But as you’ve said I’ve learnt to live like this ever since I was a baby. Sometimes I just wish I had someone to support me.” you tell him and what he does next surprises you. 
He leans closer and puts a hand on your cheek and kisses you. You don’t react. Partly because you were caught completely off guard and partly because your 19 year old self would die for this kiss but the only thing in your head that played over and over again is “You can’t do this to Toto” .  He pulls away from the kiss and you smile but he’s looking for something more and you know it. 
“Marc,  look I am so flattered that you actually like me. My 19 year old self would be dead right now. But as much as I used to like you then, I cannot do it now.”
“You’re not into it huh?” he asks partly heartbroken partly surprised
“It’s not that. It’s that there’s someone else in my life right now and the things with me and him aren’t that simple so I wouldn’t want to further complicate it.”
“I understand.” he says “Although Lisa would be thrilled to have you as her daughter in law, I have to destroy her dreams.” he laughs
“I am so sad. Tell her I love her regardless and if I end up alone you’ll be the first one I will flirt with.” 
“Bold way to tell me I am the second option.” 
“Oh god no that’s not how I meant it. It’s just that you never know how life will play out. We might end up married managing the Taylor Group and Red Bull Racing, but we might just end up as two workaholic friends who push each other out of their working space.”
“That’s true.” he says 
For the next 10 minutes you discuss and when the yacht finally arrives at the harbor you leave the yacht before thanking everyone. You and Sara walk back home and she keeps talking about her and Tristan during the whole way to her house. You keep quiet about the whole thing with Marc and let her vent about what happened for the rest of the day. Late at night just when you’re ready to go to sleep, her in her bed and you on an inflatable mattress Sara is still talking about Tristan. 
“He actually texted me like 5 minutes ago, I can’t believe it.” she says “We are plann-” 
“Marc kissed me.” you say interrupting her mid sentence
“WHAT?” she screams and jumps on her bed
“Yeah, you were too busy screwing Tristan on those cabins but when we arrived at the harbor, he sat down next to me and kissed me.”
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” she asks completely shocked
“Because you were venting about Tristan and I knew you would react this way.” you answer
“Well why aren’t you reacting in this way? You’ve had a crush on him since forever.”  she asks
“Had. Past tense.” 
“Well, do you have someone better than Marc to hook up with? His father is a freaking billionaire and he’s about to inherit all this. He’s handsome and kind and he’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of.” 
“Yeah, now he’s not the one I am dreaming of. Plus, believe it or not, it’s not always about the money.”
“Are you out of your mind? Who is possibly a better option than Marc for you right now? Well, to be frank Charles Leclerc is. You’re not sleeping with Charles Leclerc are you?” she asks and you laugh 
“If you actually knew who the guy who is the better option you’d definitely think I’m out of my mind. And no, I am not sleeping with Charles Leclerc, sadly.” you tell her
“If you don’t spill, I will kick you out.” 
“I most definitely cannot tell you.” 
“Come on, we’ve known each other since we were in the womb, your family is my family, what tells you that I could possibly say anything to anyone?” 
“Okay, I will tell you, just because you actually are my best friend. But don’t you dare say anything to anyone or I will be destroyed. Oh, tell me your wildest prediction.”
“Just so that I have a clear target group, he is from F1 right?” she asks and you nod “Omg, is it Max? Because if it is Max it will be the most iconic friends to lovers boo-” she starts ranting and you interrupt to shock her once again
“It’s Toto Wolff” 
“WHO?” she looks at you like you are a lunatic. 
“It’s freaking Toto Wolff, Team Principal of Mercedes AMG Petronas F1” you tell her and she looks absolutely shocked
“You are definitely out of your freaking mind. Since when are you into older guys and how the hell did that happen?”
“I always thought he was attractive but was blindsided by Christian’s hate for him. But long story short, I got drunk once and we hooked up and it’s only been going downhill from there. I’ll have to explain it to you when I get to my new apartment.”
“I am absolutely shocked.” she says “Is he at least treating you right?” she asks
“We are just hanging out but he’s been decent I’d say.” 
“Now that I am thinking about it,  he kind of is the better option.” she says and she visibly loses herself in thought 
“Just so you know, the only people who know about all this are you and Lewis.” 
“I have a common secret with Lewis Hamilton?” she asks, showing her clear preference for him. 
Your answer is to just laugh and then say goodnight to her. 
The next day you are being woken up by the light entering the room from the window that you forgot to close. It’s the day that you will finally move to your new apartment in Monaco. You grab your phone first thing and you see millions of notifications, more than usual. Your first thought? Something bad happened. And indeed something had happened, not exactly bad, but the headlines from the news, tweets and tags are somewhere in between the tone of
“Red Bull Racing’s newest management addition shows her love with a billionaire’s son in Monaco.”
The first article wrote: Miss Horner and Mr. Marc Taylor were spotted getting cozy at the latter’s yacht party in Monaco harbor yesterday. The pair shared a kiss and they seemed to exchange some fond words. We are excited about this new romance blooming in the streets and seas of Monaco. Are we going to see the Taylor Group entering F1 alongside Miss Horner’s Red Bull Racing? It’s only a matter of time to see.  
“Shit, shit, shit” you keep saying and Sara who has only woken up looks at you like you’re crazy
“What?” she asks
“It’s all over the freaking internet.” 
“You and Wolff?” she asks nervously
“No, god, it’s me and Marc” 
“Wait, how did that happen?”
“Someone must have snapped a picture of us while we were kissing when the yacht was in the harbor. God this is a disaster.” 
“Why is it a disaster?” she asks. Well sometimes you really doubt about her having a brain
“If Toto sees this he’s going to be feral.” you say “Oh god, I should text him right now to let him know that the whole thing is a lie.”  You open the iMessage app
Wolff 
[Photo] 
Flying to Nice from the UK, I’ll be in Monaco for the rest of the week. 
You check the time that this was sent. Yesterday afternoon. You were probably at the party then and you accidentally deleted the notification so you didn’t see the message afterwards but now you decide to reply. 
You
I hope that you have arrived in Monaco safely. I am sure I will see you somewhere here before we get the chance to meet all alone. Sorry I didn’t reply earlier but I must have accidentally deleted the notification while I was at that yacht party yesterday. Speaking of which, I need to talk to you about the whole thing going around on the internet. 
You see that your messages are being instantly read but you get no reply. 
“The moving truck will be arriving at the apartment in 20 minutes, we must get going. Come on, get ready.” Sara says
“S, Toto is leaving me on read, do you think he’s mad at me?”
“No, he’s probably too busy in those company meetings back at Brackley.” she tries to reassure you 
“Toto flew to Monaco yesterday afternoon, he’s not at Brackley.” you tell her
“Well, he’s still working from Monaco so he might reply to  you later. Girl, we really don’t have time for this. It’s moving dayyy.” she says trying to hype you up. “Up, up, up” she says trying to grab you “The moving guys will be at the apartment and you will be lying here all day? Let’s get ready to move in. You’ll worry about Wolff later. And at the end you told me that you’re just hanging out, it's not anything serious so you’re free to do whatever you want. And if he’s sure that you want him he won’t even believe those things.” 
You stand up before replying and put on a pair of sweats and a Red Bull t-shirt to be comfortable while moving in. “I know that we’re just hanging out at the moment. It’s just that the things are confusing as it is now, I don’t want Marc Taylor confusing them more than that.” 
“He won’t. But you’ll have to worry about it from your new bedroom so, shoes on, grab your bag and let’s go to the apartment. 
You do as she says and 20 minutes later you are outside your newest home getting the keys from the owner while the guys are removing boxes and furniture from the truck. 
“Well, you are here.” Sara says. “I have to confess it looks really pretty and modern.”
“Sara, it’s just the outside of the building.” 
“But still it’s pretty. The actual apartment is prettier though” she says and she instructs all of the boxes with your belongings and furniture to be moved to the 6th floor. For the first time in your life you will be living at the top of a building. You and Sara take the elevator to the apartment. You unlock the door while the guys are waiting for you and you enter using your right foot first.
 “It’s for good luck.” you say to Sara and she smiles doing the same 
For the next 5 hours you and Sara assemble your furniture and unpack the boxes with all of your stuff. You show her your ideas on how to put everything into place as you’ve imagined it and as you’ve seen it on your pinterest moodboards. At some point both of you try to settle the bed in your master bedroom. A new queen sized bed that you bought after seeing how big the room is. The one side of the loft is covered in full length glass windows that have a great view to the mediterranean with a huge balcony just in front of them that you will probably enjoy your morning tea in, during the non race weeks. The light enters every room, giving them a great coziness and openness. While you two are trying to move the bed just in the right place you remember that now you happen to have neighbors. 
“Shit S, are we making too much noise?” you ask
“Well, if you know another way that we can move this monster bed and not make a sound, let me know.”
“What if the neighbors are annoyed?”
“They can fuck themselves, it’s not even quiet hours yet.” she says and you help her do the job.
After the bed gets in the right place you lay there for a second
“Horner, come on, what are you doing?” 
“I am too overwhelmed by this, we’ve been working for 5 hours nonstop and this thing isn’t anywhere close to a living apartment.” you tell her
“Oh and wait till I leave you to go to the gym.” she says
“Come on Sara, you are working out here can’t you just skip the gym today and help me a little with those boxes?” 
“I’ve been doing it for the past 5 hours if that says something to you. I will be leaving in half an hour though. And don’t worry. You can take it one step at a time and after some time you will manage to unpack your whole stuff.” she says smiling
“I hate you.” you tell her and you go back to work. 
You set your new office in the living room,  just in front of the large window so that you get enough light and inspiration from the views outside. You also set the couch and the coffee table in front, as well as your new TV. Half an hour later Sara leaves indeed for the gym, leaving you all alone for the first time in your newest apartment. That’s when it hits you and you grab your phone. The messages you sent to Toto, still unanswered and it’s been a long time since he’s read them. You decide to give him a call. You press his phone number and wait for him to pick up. You hear one, then two, then three rings and then it goes straight to voicemail. You hear his voice that you haven’t heard since Sunday. The phone rang but it went to voicemail which means that he’s declining your call. You try once again, the same thing. You get it, he’s probably angry with the whole thing but if he doesn’t want to talk to you nor do you. Instead of overthinking it you throw yourself back at moving. You blast some Taylor Swift on the speakers that you connected first thing as you entered the loft, and drop a huge box of books in front of you which you put on the built-in shelves in the living room. You use your ladder to fill the upper shelves that you cannot reach by yourself. You keep dancing, moving things, chairs, couches and tables. At some point you hear the door knocking. You turn the music off and run to the door. 
“Who is it?” you ask and you hear a voice from the outside of the door
“I live downstairs and I wanted to let you know that it’s quiet time now, you are annoying us with all that music and moving things.” the voice says. You feel very embarrassed about what you did and the last thing you want is to piss your neighbor off so you decide to open the door and apologize. But when you do you freeze. 
“Toto?” you say and he looks at you, his eyes wide as if he just saw something unbelievable 
“What are you doing here ?” he asks
“This is my new apartment in Monaco, I was just moving in.”
“You’re joking.” he says
“Do you actually live downstairs?” you ask thrilled
“I do yeah, I live on the fifth floor loft.” he says 
“How was England?” you ask and he looks at you. 
“Fine.” he replies, obviously bothered.
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you, I texted you this morning but you didn’t reply.” you say “I also tried calling but it went to voicemail.”
“Talk to me about what?” he asks acting like he doesn’t know
“About Marc Taylor. Toto, I know you’ve seen it, it’s all over the internet.” 
“I mean what would you possibly have to say about Marc Taylor? It’s a shared secret that you’ve been wanting him since high school, everyone in Monaco knows it. You must be over the moon though. Handsome, rich, young and charming. Everything you’re looking for.” 
“You have to believe me Toto.” 
“Believe you about what? You clearly wanted the guy since forever so why not give in?”
“You fucking know that the whole thing is fake.”
“There are pictures,” he says, keeping calm. 
“You know how it fucking is Toto, those reporters only take whatever they think will make people engage more with their stories. They only caught the kiss but after that I told him that there is someone else in my life.”
“I wouldn’t know. I am not the one going around boat parties in Monaco and kissing strangers.”
“Just admit you are jealous.” you say
“Now you know what? I find it really pretentious that you get to be angry with the whole Cynthia thing and I am suddenly overreacting to seeing you kiss other guys.”
“It is not the same.” 
“No, it is exactly the same and your position is way worse than mine because me and Cynthia haven’t seen each other since this thing started.” he says
“Well, it’s not like this “thing” is something exclusive so I can see and kiss whomever I want.” you say 
Toto turns and looks at you and this is the first time you see a kind of hurt in his eyes
“Do you ever shut up Horner?” he asks
“I’ve told you before, only if I am made.” you say and look at him 
Hearing these words probably makes a bell in Toto’s head ring because the next thing he does is to grab you by both hands and pin you against the wall like he did the first time he kissed you. He looks down at you as you look up at him and he leans in to kiss you but you push him just a little and grab his hand. You put it against your neck and once he gets the memo he applies a little pressure that makes you go crazy. He kisses you slowly and you kiss him back in enjoyment. A few seconds later he grabs you and runs into the hallway searching for your bedroom. Once he finds the bedroom with the queen size bed he rushes and pushes you to the bed. You lie on your back looking at him. The power that this man holds, you think. You slowly begin to undress him, freeing him of his gray sweatpants and leaving him only with his boxers on seeing him growing hard as he looks at you. 
“Is the bed new?” he asks and you nod
“What a way to use it for the first time huh?” you say and he laughs 
“Let me tell you something Horner, I don’t want you anywhere near me with a red bull shirt ever again” he says and he strips you off of the red bull shirt “It’s the biggest turn off.” 
“I can see it” you tease him. At first he seems pissed off but then he takes your sweats off and then he does the same with his T-Shirt. 
“Enough talking” he says and he leans in for a kiss which you deepen immediately. He leans in on you and you push him towards you from his neck as he stabilizes himself by putting one of his knees between your thighs. You feel the intrusive thought in your brain and you grind yourself on his knee
“Much needy I see ?" he asks and you do nothing but look at him 
“Can’t resist mister Wolff” you say 
“As you should miss Horner.” he replies and his hand moves to your chest while he starts kissing you on your neck. You feel him leaving hot trails of kisses on you as his hand cups your breast. Well he certainly has a way of doing things. His kisses leave you wanting more, needing more so to make yourself feel good you move your hips against him once again and you can feel him laugh against your skin as he moves his hand against your panties 
“So wet already” he whispers to your ear sending shivers down your spine “Does he also do that to you?” he asks clearly, talking about Marc. You shake your head as the words were kind of hard to come off your mouth 
“Use your words baby” he says 
“No, he does not” you say while your breathing is getting heavier
“Is he better?” he asks and you shake your head once again. 
“Toto please, I need you.” you say and he obeys to your plea.
He removes his briefs and pushes your panties to the side as he enters inside you. It feels good. Better than it had in Jeddah. You gasp at the move and you dig your nails on his back as he kisses you. He suddenly grabs your hands and removes them from his back while thrusting in and out in a slow but great way. 
“No touching today.” he says and holds your hands over your head with his strong grip. He keeps moving as you let small moans escape and you feel like you’re in another word. You want to touch him as well and right the time that he loosens his grip on you you try to move your hands but his grip gets stronger and smashes your hands back to the place they first were. You complain for a while but he makes you feel so good that this is the last thing you care about. 
“You’re so good love. Always feeling so good.” the pauses between his words are getting bigger, showing that he’s feeling as good as he does. “Good god.” he says once again and you laugh at him. He keeps going strong though, changing the tempo of his thrusts, hitting and touching all the correct places. You feel getting closer and closer to your climax but instead of laying calm you start leaving kisses on his chest. 
“You make me feel so good.” you say “Fuck Toto, you’re so good. God no you’re perfect.” 
“Are you close?” he asks 
“Yeah” you say and you gasp “You?”
“Very” he says in between his grunts. Some minutes later you come first and he follows you shortly after while repeating your name.
Right after that both of you lay naked on your new bed. Toto is caressing your hair as you are laying on his chest listening to his heartbeat. He breaks the silence first 
“Are we good?” he asks
“I am good” you reply
“I am talking about our fight.” he says
“Oh I thought that it was established when you were repeating my name while having sex with me.” 
 “You’re right.” he says and stares outside the window while the sun is setting. Both of you sit in silence for a minute or two until you break it
“He’s not better.” you say 
“Huh?” 
“Marc Taylor. He’s not better than you. It was nothing but a kiss, Toto.” you tell him “And yes, he might be a European billionaire’s son and he might as well be hot and charming but you are also all those things, which surprise, happen to be everything I seem to look for in a man. But I need you to know Toto, in my eyes you are more charming and hotter than him. I would give Marc Taylor up for you but I wouldn’t give up you for Marc Taylor.” you tell him and you look up at him while he’s staring at you, clearly paying attention to what you were telling him. 
“Thank you.” he says 
You keep laying there and by the time the sun sets you are already asleep. You wake up an hour later and you see Toto is also taking a nap. You nudge him and he wakes up. 
“What is it ?” he says being somewhere between asleep and awake
“Nothing, we just fell asleep here.” you say
“You’ve got a nice bed. Good choice.” he says
“I know but I have to get up to finish the rest of the apartment.”
“No one is helping you?” he asks
“Sara was here until she abandoned me to go to her gym session. Now I have to do this all by myself.” 
“You know you don’t have to do all of it today right? You are going to be exhausted. Plus I can also help you with unpacking.” 
“No, you probably have work to do. I’ll do them by myself and tomorrow Sara will be here to help me” 
“Who is Sara?”
“My best friend. She’s the one that found this apartment for me” you tell him
“So she’s the one that I have to thank?” he asks and you nod while laughing. 
“You will meet her as soon as I get back to Red Bull.” 
“Which is going to be when?” he asks
“I know you want to get rid of me but I don’t have any information yet. Beth usually sends me my schedule the week before each grand prix and judging by the fact that she didn’t send it until now, I think this won’t be the weekend you are looking forward to.” 
“Maybe you should start packing your things for Baku.” he says
“I don’t have anything to do there.”
“Come on, I told people Mindy Rosevelt will hang with us for a while longer.” 
“Second race at Mercedes?” you ask excitedly
“The Ritz in Baku has already been informed that we would like an extra suite.” 
“Toto, a suite? Again?” 
“You always need a suite, love.” 
“Do you have plans for Baku?” you ask
“How about we go to the paddock together, you sleep in my suite and you help us during the race?”
“So you only want me to be there to tell you about Red Bull’s strategies so you can win?” you say playing offended
“I only want you to be there because you make it easier for me to focus when you are next to me rather than in the garage next to ours. And because I want you in general.” he says
“That’s a good excuse.” you tell him 
“After all, even if it was only for the strategy part, you should remember that all’s fair in war.” 
“And love.” you say 
“That also” he replies 
“When are we leaving?” 
“Wednesday night, with my jet from Nice airport.” 
“Good.” you say
“Put some clothes on, we are going to unpack the rest of the boxes.” he says 
“Yes sir.” you say
“Sir huh? Remind me of that the next time I am laying in bed with you” he tells you and you laugh as you stand up to put some clothes on.  For the rest of the evening you and Toto unpack the boxes that you and Sara left. Both of you laugh as he makes fun of your music taste. He even dared to make fun of  Taylor Swift, which you did not take lightly but still forgave him when he danced with you in the living room of your new apartment and when you both watched the harbor from the balcony. It is almost midnight when he decides he has to go. 
“Why do you have to go now?” you ask
“The apartment is almost ready, Sara can help you set up the last box and I have to work tomorrow, unlike you.” 
“You are literally working from home and your home is downstairs, why can’t you stay for the night and leave tomorrow night?” you complain
“Because this is your apartment, your space. You have to spend the night alone to get used to the feeling.”
“I’ve lived alone before, I know how it is.”
“Yes but now it’s different, you'll see.”
“Can’t it be different with you here?” 
“It can, but I am positive you will be better off alone for this night.” he says “We won’t be lost after all, I will be downstairs, you can call me any time.” 
“Okay” you tell him “Can I kiss you goodnight?” you ask
“What happened to you? You are too expressive!” he says
“I know, you are not used to it.” 
“No, I am used to you being expressive, just not very emotional.” 
“Changed state of mind” you say 
“I like it.” he says “And to answer your question” he leans in and kisses you deeply “I was going to do it anyways.” 
You smile at the gesture “Goodnight Toto.” you say 
“Goodnight love.” he replies and he leaves. 
You close the door and walk straight to bed where you immediately fall asleep. 
The next day you text Sara and she drops by for a morning coffee in your new balcony. As soon as she enters the loft she looks around. 
“Wow Horner, did you get any sleep?” she asks
“I actually did.” 
“How did you unpack all of those boxes by yourself?” 
“I didn’t do it by myself” you tell her 
“Omg, who did you invite?” 
“No one, a neighbor helped me.” 
“Oh, you’ve already met your neighbors? That’s crazy. Are any of them hot?”
“Yeah I met one of them because he wanted to complain about the noise. And yeah, he was hot. In fact for me he is one of the hottest.” 
“What happened to Miss Toto Wolff is the hottest man on earth? Did she disappear?” 
“No she didn’t, because actually Toto Wolff IS the freaking neighbor.” 
“What the hell?” she asks “Girl I need coffee and Monte Carlo air STAT.”
You make her coffee and your tea and go to the balcony where you sit on a big white table. 
“Turns out Wolff is my freaking neighbor. He’s living downstairs and he heard the noise during quiet hours so he decided to give me a notice.” 
“But when he saw you he forgot what he noticed” she says
“No actually he did make the notice and then we pretty much fought for Marc, ended up having sex, had a nap and then unpacked all of my boxes. We danced together in the living room and then he left because he had to work today.” 
“You used the bed for the first time to have make up sex with Wolff?” she asks
“I pretty much did yeah” you tell her
“You are crazier than I thought you were.” she says 
“I am crazier than I thought I were” you say 
You tell her everything that happened yesterday night as both of you drink your beverages watching the view from your balcony. Later on Sara helps you unpack the last box and your apartment is finally set.  The next few days you pass your time by hanging out with Sara and your other best friends who happen to be in Monaco. Toto drops by some days and you two hang out for some hours until one day you finally ask him for a Mercedes project to work on so you can spend your time by being more productive. Days pass and it’s finally Wednesday morning when you are actually packing your clothes for Baku. You take mostly summer clothes even though you won’t be able to wear any of the to the paddock. You also take your extra Mercedes shirts and pants as well as Toto’s Mercedes shirt. You make sure everything is there. After that you call Sara to drop by so that you can say goodbye to her and spend the rest of the day alone at the apartment until Toto knocks the door to let you know that your driver has arrived and is ready to take you to Nice to finally fly to Baku.  A car ride and a flight later you and Toto land in Azerbaijan. Both of you wait in the jet until the car is ready to take you from the plane to the hotel. At that time the cockpit door opens and you take a look inside. The pilot who goes out of the cockpit is not Mike. You raise your eyebrow at this and you look at the door more intensely for Toto to notice.
“What are you looking at?” he asks looking up from his phone
“Our pilot.” you say 
“What about him, are you not satisfied?” he asks
“No, I am. But the question is, where is Mike?”
“He’s on leave, why?” 
“Just wondering”
“Why would you care about him?”
“Because I like him” 
“Noted” he says and turns back to his phone without speaking
“Are you jealous Wolff?” you ask
“No” 
“Are you sure?”
“End of discussion” he says and you laugh
“Okay sir.” you tell him 
After that the crew opens the door and you get off the plane. You already made sure that you have your mask on you so people won’t recognize you. Back to the same old ways. You take a ride to the hotel and you walk straight to your suite in which some other Mercedes employee checked you in before you arrived. Toto goes back to his own suite even though he asked you to hang out with him instead. You settle down in your suite and check Toto's schedule for the weekend
13:30-14:00: Press conference
14:10-14:50: F1 Team Principal Meeting
14:50-16:00: Coffee Break
16:00-17:00: Team Meeting
18:00-20:00: Business meeting
20:30: Dinner  
You open your phone and text Toto
You
I’ve been taking a look at your schedule, is everything to your agreement?
 Wolff
Yes, all is checked and approved 
You
Good to know. By what I'm seeing, it’s going to be a full day. I mean press, team meetings and business meetings
Wolff
Oh is it actually on my schedule?
You
The business meeting? Yeah it’s tabbed in from 18:00 to 20:00. Should I remove it, is it wrong?
Wolff
No, let them believe that I’m busy during that time.I have already planned something. It’s not a business meeting, it is supposed to be a meeting for us two but I told Brad that I will be busy so I guess he thought it was business related
You 
Oh, so I am busy  from 18:00 to 20:00 too? What are we going to do ?
Wolff
 I would let you be curious but we are supposed to go to a boat trip in the Caspian. I’ve chartered a boat for a couple of hours and then we will be having dinner too, so please do not wear high heels.
You 
Oh I love boat trips so no high heels 
It’s not like I could put heels on though, I will be dressed in the Merc gear all day long
Wolff
Well pack another outfit but still no high heels
You 
Okay then.  I guess I’ll see you later?
Wolff
Tomorrow
You switch your phone off and fall asleep for a few hours. It’s already early in the morning since you left Nice at night and the flight lasted a long time but thank god you didn’t have to be at the paddock until noon. You wake up at 11 and order some breakfast. You get ready and phone Toto to let him know you are ready. 10 minutes later you are on your way there in his black AMG SUV and you see the fans taking photos of the car. Well it’s Toto they’re taking pictures of since they have no idea about who you actually are. You get out of the car and go to Merc’s hospitality. You wave Toto goodbye and you go to your office while he’s off to his. Later on you hear a knock at your door. 
“Who is this?” you ask
“Mindy, it’s Lewis.” you hear a voice 
You stand up and put your mask on before opening the door. Better safe than sorry. When you open the door you see that it’s indeed Lewis so you welcome him in. You take off your mask and sit on the little couch
“How is it going?” he asks
“Everything’s good, thank you. How are you?” 
“Good. You know how it is. Just running around, trying to keep up with everything.”
“Lewis Hamilton trying to keep up? I am pretty sure everyone is trying to keep up with you, not you with them.”
“Well yeah, when it comes to F1 it’s pretty much how you say it is. But in real life I have so many things to keep up with.” 
“I bet you do. Like I am pretty sure you are flying to New York as soon as the race ends.”
“I am. Met Gala.” he says and you laugh
“So you won’t be here for post race celebrations if you win. I guess I should hand the win to George this time, or maybe let Red Bull win.” 
“Don’t you dare” 
“I won’t Lew, you know you’re my fav. But if you want to secure the win, I need to get in the Met next year.” “Deal.” he says
“Oh god Lewis, I was only joking.” 
“I know, but I am pretty sure that I can land you an invitation.”
“We’ll see until next year.” you tell him “Is Roscoes coming to the gala?” 
“No, I am actually sending him back to Monaco for the week and then he’ll be with me in Miami.”
“Where is he going to stay in Monaco?” 
“At the pet hotel.”
“Why don’t you leave him with me ?” 
“In Monaco?” he asks
“I live there now” 
“You do? I can leave him with you, of course.”
“If you don’t fully trust me I can ask Toto for his help. We live in the same building.” “I have so many questions about this but I have to go. It’s gym time.” he says
“We can figure out the logistics about Roscoe later. Have a good session Lewis.”  you tell him before he leaves the office 
For the next hour or so you hang out in your office all alone and when it is time you leave the hospitality center to accompany him to the press conference. Just when you are outside the press conference center you see Christian and by his side a really familiar face that you cannot remember. You take another look at her while Toto stops dead in his tracks. 
“What?” you ask him and he looks confused. You take a look for a third time. You see a familiar girl dressed in Red Bull gear talking to Christian. It’s then when it clicks. The girl is Cynthia. Cynthia Jones dressed in Red Bull speaking to Christian. What the heck is this about? You can feel the anger rising to your chest
“Breathe” you hear him say
“That’s too far” you tell him 
“It’s crazy.” he says “Go talk to her, find out what this is all about.” 
“I will" you say
“Just be careful not to reveal too many things" 
“Of course" 
Toto glances at his watch. 12:55 
“I should get going, press is starting in 5" 
“Okay, I'll see you later" you tell him and he nods “Do you wanna meet here?"
“I’ll be straight off to the TP meeting. I will see you during the coffee break, okay?”
“Okay” 
“Try to find out what Cynthia is doing here.” he says 
“I will” you tell him and you smile
“And if you are too angry about what you find out, I have some files you can take a look at while you’re waiting.”
“Okay” you say and you leave him. You spot Cynthia hanging out outside the press center and you decide to approach her
“Hello.” you tell her
“Hi” she replies and smiles “Oh, you’re Mindy right? The girl who gave us the Mercedes tour in Jeddah?” 
“Yup, that’s me.” maybe not “What are you doing here?” you ask her
“I landed a job in Red Bull Racing. Isn’t it crazy?” she says 
“Oh definitely. You went from visiting the paddock to actually working here, congrats!” you try to play excited when you are actually fuming
“It was meant to be. I landed the job when I was visiting the paddock in Jeddah.”
“How come?” 
“Christian Horner met us at the paddock club and he asked what we were doing. Once I told him about my studies in management he asked to see me in person and then he proposed this job.”
“What’s your position?” 
“For what I’ve understood, I am currently sort of  replacing Christian’s daughter while I am also acting like his PA.”
“Oh so management?” 
“It’s still too early for that title and I definitely don’t have that much freedom as an executive does. I am thinking it more like an internship in management while also being a personal assistant to Christian.” 
“Oh Christian” you say and you roll your eyes 
“He’s not as bad as everyone thinks he is.” she says “He might actually be better than Toto” 
“Yeah, nah” you tell her “Toto is actually definitely more human-ish than Christian.” 
“And how would you know? Have you ever worked with Christian?” she asks jokingly. If only she knew
“No but judging from the paddock rumors he seems to be a tough one to handle.”
“Absolutely not. He is really kind and funny. Really chill type. He made me call him by his name since day 1. It’s really like we’re friends.”
“That’s really good for you.” you say
“What about Toto?” she asks. As if she would let it go 
“Mr. Wolff is really nice.” 
“You’re not calling him Toto?”
“No, he prefers to keep things professional. He’s more into being formal and things.”
“Must be boring” she says
“It’s pretty good for now and I’m always guessing, familiarity might be a little too much at some point.” 
“Christian has been saying this about his daughter.”
“He has?” you ask slightly nervously
“Yeah, he said that working with family might be a little too overwhelming at some point.”
“Well he’s kinda right. Did he say why she left?”
“From what I’ve taken they decided that she should take a break and she’s currently hanging out in Monaco in her new apartment. He’s thinking of taking her back by the Monaco Grand Prix but he’s not sure yet.” she tells you 
“Oh, well. Whatever suits them best.” 
“Yeah, we are not the ones to judge.” 
“Definitely not.” 
“It was really fun talking to you again Mindy. We should hang out sometime.” 
“Yeah definitely.”  It’s not like you slept with the man I am sleeping with. you think 
You wave at her and leave the press center to wait until Toto finishes his morning tasks. You open the F1TV stream and watch his interview. When Will starts asking a question to Franz Tost you decide to text Toto about your findings. 
You
Turns out Cynthia Jones is staying in my life for good cause apparently Christian hired her in my position during the Saudi GP. And I wasn’t even out of the team for a week 
You see him holding his phone and taking a glance at it while Franz is speaking. He rolls his eyes and puts the phone back in his pocket. You stay once again in your office, going through Toto’s schedule for the weekend and looking at your socials. Some time later your phone rings 
Wolff
She’s going to make our lives hard but it's very typical of Christian to hire someone from the first day that you left 
You
She even proposed that we should hang out
Wolff
If only she knew 
You 
That’s what I said
Wolff
She was waiting outside the press center for Christian and now they’re both in front of me walking to the TP meeting. She’s talking and Christian is laughing like he’s having the time of his life
You 
I figured she’s that type of assistant cause according to her she and Christian are practically besties now. It’s going to be a good one when I get back to rb
Wolff
Remind me to mount a secret mic and camera on you when that happens cause I want to see the Horner-Jones fight. 
You
I bet you she’s going to regret the day she agreed to that position
Wolff
Whoa, too aggressive. How about checking some data before the coffee break cause rumor has it that you love reading data and commenting on them 
You 
Anything to get her off my mind and anything for you Mr. Wolff
Wolff
I’m flattered. There’s a file in your email waiting for your comments and questions. Bet Bono is going to be thrilled. I am off to the meeting, see you soon.
After Toto’s messages you check your email to take a look at the file he sent you. It’s full of data and details about this year’s rocketship. It is then when it hits you. The data are from the simulator and the track they’ve been using is Barcelona. In Red Bull you always used to run simulations in Barcelona so you have the exact same data from your ex team. You open them and start comparing them and finding where Mercedes lacks compared to Red Bull. You also open Adrian’s and GP’s essays on car performances and start noting any questions or things you’ve noticed. You really hope Toto will actually use them in his meeting with Bono and James. However, you keep all of the comparisons to yourself. You are not sure Toto is in favor of cheating so you will probably announce it to him later during the coffee break. You make a new file and email it to his account.  Later on you hear a knock on your door. 
“It’s Toto” you can hear him say and you unlock the door for him to enter. 
“Hey.” you say
“Hi, how are you feeling?” he asks
“I am good. I read all the data and I relaxed so much.” 
“Well, I, on the other hand, almost had a fight with Christian.” 
“Why?” you ask
“Because he was being a douchebag.” 
“Nah, he was just being Christian” you tell him and he laughs
“Was the data any good?” 
“Yeah, I also emailed you my questions and stuff.” 
“Oh, I will be forwarding them to James and Bono.” 
“Speaking of the data, I saw they were sim data from Barcelona.” 
“We use Barcelona almost every time for our simulations.” 
“Well, it turns out, Red Bull does too.” you tell him and he looks at you, suggests to keep talking “I have the comparisons fully made here. There’s also an excel file with all the lacks and the sections Red Bull might present an advantage.” 
“This is interesting.”
“I know Toto. But the thing is, I didn’t email those to you because I didn’t know if you wanted to have access to all that information.” 
“I totally get it.”
“You should understand that this is confidential, but if you decide you want it, it will be in your inbox right away.” 
“This file can affect the whole development path for us.” he says
“I know, that’s why I kept it.” 
“You should keep it for yourself.”
“I swear I won’t give this to Red Bull.”
“I trust that you won’t” he says
“I will always have it at hand if you want to use it though. Anything for Mr. Wolff” you say and both of you laugh
“Thank you.” he says “Do you want some coffee and a snack? It’s coffee break after all.” 
“No, thank you. You can leave this tiny office and enjoy your coffee in your office. I feel bad for keeping you here.” 
“I am only hanging out here because I want to.” he says “But I’ll leave you alone. We’ll have enough time tonight.” 
“Of course.” you smile at him
“Meet you after the team meeting ?”
“I will be waiting.” 
Once Toto leaves for his coffee break and the team meeting later you decide to go out and see the track. There are some bikes available at the hospitality center so you grab one and ride at the track of Baku. You see other people doing the same thing, some of the drivers are also doing their track walks. At some point you spot Max. It’s been a while since you talked considering the fact that you didn’t even see him in Jeddah but you kept texting during that time. When you spot him it is in your impulse that you almost yell at him to go and talk to him. When you remember that you are actually supposed to be an unbothered Mercedes employee you change your mind, and as you are caught up in your thoughts you almost lose your balance. Thankfully you save it before you find yourself in the ground or the barriers and you keep your direction and finish your lap. 6 km later you are back in your office, thankfully not sweaty since you took your time to circle the track, and you also have a cup of tea and a chocolate bun as a snack. You take a bite as you see today’s headlines from the Media day and you also take a look at some market news. After a while Toto texts again
Wolff
Just finished asking all of your questions to the mechanics and they were impressed to say the least because they managed to assess some really important things for the race
You 
Next time I should be present in those meetings
Wolff 
I will personally make sure of it. We will be done in 25, I’ll pick you up. Don’t be late
Those 25 minutes pass by quite fast and you don't realize until Toto is knocking at your door. Thankfully you packed your stuff earlier so Toto cannot complain about you being late. 
“I am impressed.” 
“I didn’t actually understand how fast the time passed. Thank god I had my things packed.”
“That’s why I texted you earlier.” he says
“Yeah but you cannot complain now.” you reply
“No, the truth is I cannot.”
“Are we going straight to the boat?” you ask
“Yes, that’s why I told you to pack another outfit. Tell me you didn’t forget”
“I did not” 
“Good. Now get your stuff, we are leaving.” After that both of you leave the track and go to the boat Toto has chartered for a couple of hours. He helps you hop on the boat and he does the same
“Are you going to drive this?” you ask
“Are you scared?” 
“It depends on whether you are driving this thing or not”
“I am driving” 
“Are you allowed to do this?” 
“You are shitting yourself” he laughs
“Yeah because if we drown, imagine the headlines people will write.”
“We’ll be the next Rose and Jack.” he says
“Yeah, almost.”
“Just so you know, I am fully capable of navigating the boat.” 
“For real?”
“I have a sailing license.”
“Is there anything you can’t do ?” 
“Think straight when you’re with me.”
“Very funny.”
“It’s true.” he says and you take a look around and see people walking up and down the harbor  “What about finally leaving? We’re going to miss the sunset if we take any longer.”
“Let’s go” he sails and he undocks the boat. 
The two of you sail in the Caspian leaving the Baku port behind you. Toto is making sure that everything he does is safe, occasionally checking on the radar to see whether there are other boats in close proximity. You sit by his side and snap a couple of pictures of  him while he’s driving the boat. He looks absolutely stunning. It’s already late afternoon, 19:00-ish and the sky is starting to get sweeter, indicative of the sunset later on. When you are finally out of the waters in a space that is far enough from the shore but close enough so you can distinguish the structures of the city, Toto drops the anchor and stops the boat there. “That’s quite a nice view.” you say 
“I figured you would like it” he says and comes to your side 
“You can actually see the whole city from here.”
“I figured that since we are not able to see the city together on foot, maybe this is the second best option.”
“It is. Although I would have loved a nice walk and a tour of the old city.”
“I would have loved that too.” he says as you keep looking at the city behind you and puts his hand on your lower back. 
“This right here, is the Maiden Tower," Toto points at a tower and your gaze follows his finger
“Legend has it that a young princess jumped from the top and ended her life because her father wouldn’t accept the man she loved."
“Hope I won’t end up this way.”
“God, I hope not.” he laughs and you shift your gaze to the two largest towers in the scenery
“The flame towers.” 
“I know them Toto, I’ve been coming to Baku for a while.” 
“Let me give you a tour, Horner. Don’t be shit.” he says and you smile
“Go on then.”
“The flame towers were finished in 2012. The building is a little less than 200 meters and it has a double purpose. In the first tower there are a lot of offices and apartments and in the second tower there’s a hotel.”
“What are they supposed to mean?” 
“They are meant to symbolize the eternal spirit of Azerbaijan and the country's enduring strength and resilience. Plus the whole flame design idea came from an Ancient Azerbaijani tradition of fire worshiping.”
“I love them, they look so pretty.” 
“And right beside there’s the crystal hall.”
“Never heard of it” you say 
“Eurovision was hosted there in 2012.” 
“Wait, how do you know, are you a fan ?” you ask him 
“No, I hate Eurovision.” 
“What?!” you say surprised. “You’re European, you cannot hate eurovision.” 
“I can, and I do.” 
“But why?” 
“Because it’s kitsch”
“It’s not kitsch, it’s camp, everyone loves camp.”
“It’s kitsch and I hate it, move on.” he says
“I cannot wait for the day that I will make you watch it.”
“I’d rather Christian find out about us.” 
“That’s a bold one” you tell him
“Last but not least, the fortress.” he says ignoring you and points to it
“I’ve seen the fortress, I took a ride at the track today.” 
“How did you like it?” 
“It’s so pretty, but it’s prettier from the sea. And much more interesting when you talk to me about it.”
“Hm” he says and he puts an arm around you 
“How did you learn all those things?” you ask
“I read a lot, even if I don’t have time to see the sights, I like to read about them, get to know the story of the city that I am in.” 
“That’s fair. I was wondering because I’ve been here like five times and I’ve never gotten past the name of each sight here.” 
“That’s good because you can for once, not talk and let me show you around.”
“You’re the best tour guide I’ve ever had.” you smile at him and you leave a kiss on his cheek. 
During the next hour you stay on the boat in the Caspian and see the sun set on the horizon. You take a look at the flame towers which reflect the orange and pink lights of the sunset. You snap some pictures of the scenery as well as Toto who is sitting carelessly in the boat with his white linen shirt and his sunglasses on. He also snaps some pictures of you from both yours and his phone and you also take some selfies. You immediately set the best picture of him as his contact picture and once you are done with the whole photo thing you get back to where Toto is currently sitting and relax with him for a little while longer. You two soak in the views without talking much. As it starts to get darker Toto drives the boat back to the harbor where you dock and leave to get to the hotel. Both you and Toto enter the elevator to get to your suites
“You’re coming over for dinner right?” he asks
“Well, I was thinking of getting some sleep for tomorrow.” 
“Come on, I’ve already asked roomservice to have our table set.”
“Now I can’t say no.” you tell him and smile at him. When the elevator gets to your floor you walk out and follow him to the door of his suite. You enter first and he follows and the smell of food hits your senses.
“It smells fantastic.” you say
“It’s traditional Azerbaijani cuisine.”
“I love it. We should have tried the Saudi Arabian foods as well.”
“Well, nothing can go wrong with Italian.” he says
“Then why didn’t we order Italian” you tease him
“Because I wanted to immerse myself in the Azerbaijani culture today.”
“Is it a part of the guided tour?” 
“Well, couldn’t it be?” he says “Since I’ve already given you a sight tour, I am ready to give you a culinary tour as well” he tells you as he pulls the chair off the table so that you can take your seat
“Thank you.” you tell him and you sit down as he walks back to his side of the table and sits down
“This is called Dolma.” he says as he leaves one of them on your plate “It is grape leaves with a filling of minced lamb with rice and some herbs.” 
“Interesting” you say as you take a look at the plates on the table “Oh god, is this kebab?”
“You know kebab?” he asks
“Literally everyone knows what kebab is Toto, it’s not a secret. It’s actually one of my favorite street foods.” 
“It is really good.” he tells you as he grabs a bite of it “You should also try out the pilaf” 
You take a look at it “What is this?” 
“It’s something like a risotto I guess” 
“I thought you knew the exact recipe of every single plate” you tease him
“Apparently I don’t, I just took a look at the menu and chose what I thought was best.” 
“Everything looks delicious though.” you tell him
“Wait until Miami. We’re going to eat some great burgers there.” 
“Speaking of which, I am not sure that I will be in Miami”
“Why ?” 
“Because it was cringe enough last year, I won’t submit myself  to that whole cringe fest again.” 
“You will be coming.” 
“Says who?” 
“Me” he replies and you sit there taking another bite of your amazing food, slightly annoyed . When he realizes that what he said made you angry he talks again. “Look, it is really important that you should be there. It is supposed to be your home race, we’ve told everyone that you are American, if you are only staying for a few more races it will be weird if you are not present for the only time you will get to go to a race in your country with the team.”
“No one will remember Toto.”
“People will remember. We have a list of each race in which we note whose home race it is. And by what I’ve seen you are already on the list.” 
“I didn’t write my name anywhere.” 
“I am pretty sure Bradley did. He probably remembers that you are American and just added you in.”
“And what about the home race list?” 
“We are kind of celebrating it by giving them less time to work during the weekend, or allowing them to bring their families in.”
“That’s so sweet though.” you say 
“I mean, people are important to us, they are not just workers, they are our companions.”
“I hate this team” you say and you see Toto lifting one eyebrow at you “I mean, I hate how much I already love it. How am I supposed to go back to Red Bull?”
“You can just stay in Mercedes.” 
“And say what to Christian?” 
“Tell him that his team is shit, his management is also shit and that you cannot grow in that shitty environment.”  
“He’ll find out that you told me to say that and then you will find yourself on the cover of Corriere dello Sport.” 
“Won’t be the first time.” he laughs “ Jokes aside, would you ever consider leaving Red Bull?” 
“Now I certainly do. I mean, I hadn’t seen anything aside from how Red Bull worked as a team and the race weekend at Saudi was eye opening.”
“Is that a yes?”
“I am already considering it, yes.”
“Will be nice to have you here one day, without hiding I mean.”
“I wasn’t talking about Mercedes. I am considering an offer at Ferrari.” you tell him jokingly and he almost chokes at his wine
“Where?” 
“Ferrari. It’s a really great team with a great legacy.”
“Ask them for a paddock pass for tomorrow then.” he says and you burst out laughing
“I am only joking.” you tell him “I would consider it if I had an offer from another team though.”
“We will always have a position available for you if you ever decide to leave that shithole.”  
“I’ll tell you when this happens.”
“There’s a when, not an if, that’s good.” 
“I know what’s best for me and I am slowly convincing myself it’s not Red Bull”
“Good.” he says and you two keep eating until you hear someone knocking on his door .
“I’ll be right back” Toto tells you and answers the door. You can hear him talking with someone, his voice is quite familiar. 
“Shov?What are you doing here?” 
“Do you have some time to see tomorrow’s practice program?” you can hear him say
“Um, I am actually a little busy.” 
“It will only take a second, you should only check and approve it.” 
“I fully trust you Andrew, I approve of it.”
“Good.” he says and he almost leaves “Are you having dinner with someone?”
“Yes, with Lewis, we are discussing contract extensions.” 
“Has he been here a long time?”
“An hour or so.” Toto tells him
“That’s funny, because 20 minutes earlier I was at the gym with Lewis.”
“Um…” 
“It’s okay Wolff, I hope you are having a good time with whomever you are hanging out with right now” he says and laughs “Hello unknown person who is having dinner with Toto.”  You hold your laugh until Toto says goodnight to him and he leaves the room. When you see Toto entering the room with his ‘I fucked up’ face, you burst out laughing and he joins you seconds later. “I hope he was not angry” you tell him 
“No he wasn’t angry, I am pretty sure he was thrilled about the whole thing. He’s been trying to get me someone to hang out with for ages.” 
“You are good mates huh?”
“He’s one of my closest friends, yes.” 
“And he still asks for your approval for the program he wants the team to follow tomorrow?” 
“Yeah, I’ve told him millions of times that it’s not necessary but he insists.”
“That’s so sweet of him.”
“I am only taking a look at it before approving it, it’s not like I pay that much attention, I fully trust him.” he tells you and you keep eating
“When are we leaving for Miami?” you ask
“We? I thought you weren’t coming.”
“I am, I also have to bring Roscoe with me, I promised Lewis that I will take care of him from Sunday till we get to Miami so that he doesn’t have to while he’s in New York for the Met.” 
“You promised Lewis that you will carry Roscoe all the way from Monaco to Miami?”
“That we will carry him, yes.” 
“How did I get involved in this? I don’t remember having any conversation about a dog.”
“I told him that I would take care of him and then I promised that you will help me since you’re now my neighbor. I figured you would know him a little better than I do. I mean Lewis brings him to the paddock almost every week.”
“And have you ever seen me with a dog in the paddock?” he asks
“No, but I thought you had a good relationship with him.”
“Me and Roscoe’s relationship is nonexistent, Horner.”
“Oh god, tell me you are afraid of Roscoes” you make fun of him
“I am thinking of leaving Nice on Thursday morning.” he says
“You are changing the subject.” 
“I am not, you asked me when I plan on leaving for Miami and I answered.” 
“Thursday huh? What about Media day?” 
“I’ll have Shov or either one of the two James to do it and we will be present for the Free practice.”
“Cool.” you tell him 
For the rest of the night you hang out together until you decide to leave.
“Will we be going to the paddock together?” 
“I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning.”
“What’s the schedule for tomorrow? Hold up, let me check.” you tell him and grab your phone out of your pocket to take a look. “Oh you have a business meeting after FP1 which is supposed to last almost until the start of FP2. James is set to do the press.”
“I don’t remember having any business meetings. Who is it with?” 
You take a look at your phone reading the name which catches you completely off guard. You blink twice and take another look at it, still the same name. “Who planned this?” you ask
“I don’t know, I don’t remember planning anything for Saturday. Maybe Bradley did.” 
“This cannot be real.”
“It better not be Cynthia again.” 
“Who cares about her right now?” 
“Will you tell me who I am meeting tomorrow for whatever reason or am I going to this meeting unprepared?”
“The guy you hated last week, Marc Taylor?”
“Seriously?”  
“I am dead serious Toto, his name is here.” you tell him and show him the name on the schedule. “You are supposed to discuss sponsorship. Apparently the Taylor Group is interested in investing in F1” 
“This is going to be a hell of a meeting.” 
“This is going to be a disaster.” 
“Funny that both of the people from our past keep appearing in our ways.” 
“It’s not funny, it’s shit. Toto, promise me you will handle it gracefully.”
“Dear, I have nothing to be afraid of. You’ve proven to me who you’re always thinking of. It’s pure business. If he wants to invest and it favors the team then we shall cooperate.”  
You take a deep breath “That’s too much information and it’s already getting late. I am guessing I should get going.” 
“Won’t you stay for the night?”
“Nah, it’s quite early in the race weekend and I want you to focus tomorrow. Both for the testing sessions and the Marc thing.” 
“Okay, see you tomorrow?” 
“I am actually thinking that maybe I should skip FP1 since Marc will be around, I don’t want him finding out who I am.”
“Smart idea.”
“I am going to drive myself to the track and meet you for FP2” 
“Brunch at the track?” he asks
“Oh definitely.” you tell him and you kiss him goodbye as you go back to your suite. You don’t have anything to do so you decide to check your emails before going to sleep. You see a new message popping up the list From: Netflix, DTS
Miss Horner, we would like to schedule our next shooting with you for the newest season. Please let us know if and when you are available to be present at the track where the interviews take place.Kind Regards, The DTS Producers
You shrug and decide to answer From: Ms. Horner 
Hello and thank you for contacting me, I am currently taking some time off the team and I am not aware of which race weekend I will be back in the paddock. I  will however be happy to inform you as soon as I find out about my whereabouts within Red Bull. Regards, Miss Horner
You set your alarm at the same time Toto’s and Marc’s meeting is supposed to take place and then switch off your mobile and fall asleep. The next morning you wake up just in time to actually take a shower and get ready to go back to the track. You arrive there just in time for FP2. Everyone’s already in the garage so you decide to go there directly. As always, you see Toto sitting at the top of the fantasy island watching over the two garages. “Hello Mr. Wolff.”
“Oh, you’re here!” he says
“How did your meeting with Marco Barco go ?” you say and as soon as the words get out of your mouth you see Marc Taylor himself walking next to Toto with his headset on “How did you just call me?” he asks and you freeze, mainly because no one calls him like this except from you, the Horner you, not the Mindy Rosevelt you. “How did I call you?” 
“Did you call me Marco Barco?” he says and Toto looks at the both of you slightly confused
“I called you Marc. Just Marc.” you tell him
“Alright.” “Mindy, this is Marc Taylor, he’s the owner of our newest sponsor. We closed the deal earlier during our meeting.” 
“Mr. Taylor, I am so glad that we will have you around more from now on.”
“So am I, I am glad that I actually decided to go for my instinct and invest something in F1.”
“Absolutely.” 
A short minute after he asks
“Why are you still wearing a mask? Isn’t it bothering you?” 
“Oh no no, it does not. I am actually wearing it because I don’t want to catch any colds and lose my internship days.”
“I see. And where are you from? Mindy right?” By the questions he asks you are already sure that he is suspecting something
“Yes, I am from Boston, US and I ended up here as an intern from Daimler US.” you say and he answers “That’s really cool.” For the rest of the time you don’t interact, Toto isn’t involving in any of your talks and you know it’s because he fears that he’ll fuck this up more if he does. However, he still speaks to you and Marc separately and when he’s talking to Marc he shows off a little more confidence and certainty. It’s like he knows that he’s better than him, which he actually is and you’ve made it clear both that night in Monaco and yesterday after your dinner. The session finishes with the two red bulls on top, followed by the two Mercedes. “P3 and 4 isn’t bad but it’s not P1 and P2 either. I know we’re running similar engine mappings and we still need to be on top.” Toto says in his message to the mechanics.“I am sure we will be there by tomorrow.” you tell him “I should go grab some food because I haven’t eaten yet. I am sure I will see you around Mr. Taylor.” 
“I believe so.” 
“Marc and I are going to talk a little more and he’ll be off in a while. Talk to you later?” Toto says and winks on you while Marc is on his phone “Of course Mr Wolff. See you later.” you tell him and get back at the hospitality center where you get some food which you take to Toto’s office. You unlock the door with the set of keys he has given you and you set your tray at the table beside his office. You lock the door as you stay inside in order to surprise him. After some time you can hear footsteps approaching and the door handle moves but the door doesn’t open“Oh it is locked.” you can hear Toto say and the next thing you can hear is his keys on the lock. He opens the door and just as he enters the office you speak “I thought we should have brunch together.” The man who enters the room stops dead in his tracks. Of fucking course it’s Marc, followed by Toto who is gesturing something to someone in the hallway. Toto stops and looks at you. Marc speaks first “Horner, what are you doing there?” he asks “Shush Taylor, they’re going to hear you.”  
“Why are you sitting in Toto’s office dressed in Merc gear?” 
“Ummm” you say and you pause to think “F1 made us have team principal meetings like this in order to boost our relationship” you tell him, not a good excuse. In fact it’s a terrible excuse. “What kind of bullshit do you think you’re selling to me?” Marc asks. Toto is just behind him shaking his head “There’s no point in trying to lie to him.” 
“Isn’t there?” you ask and at the same time Marc is taking a look at you. “You’re Mindy? I figured something was wrong here.” 
“Look, I need you to shut your mouth about this. No one can know.” 
“Why are you here in the first place?” he asks “Christian shut her out of the team for an unknown period of time and she wanted to have access to the paddock without paying herself.” Toto says. “Why didn’t you ask Franz to take you in his team for a while?”
“Because I didn’t want Christian involved in anything.”
“So you two guys had a fight? And what about Mercedes Toto, how is the team going to be safe with all of this.” 
Toto tries to explain the situation to Marc “She has already signed NDAs about the team, and I wouldn’t even take her in if i didn’t trust her.” You take a deep breath and Toto understands the position you are in so he decides to leave you and Marc alone for a second “Should I go fetch us something to drink?” 
“Yes please.” you tell him
“Why did you end up out of the team in the first place?” 
“I was late to a business meeting. You know how Christian is with them.” 
“And he threw you out. How long has this been going on ?” 
“Not long ago, the GP in Jeddah was my first one with Merc.” you say. Marc stays quiet for a while and his eyes spark with realization a minute or two later. “Oh god, it’s him, isn’t he?” 
“What?” you ask him. “The guy you’re heads over heels with? The situationship man! That’s why he’s the one you turned to for the paddock access and that’s why he gave it to you. You two are dating right?”
“Well yeah, it is him but I told you before, no one can know okay?” 
“Of course. How long have you been together?” 
“We are not together yet, we are just spending time.”
“Yeah right and he took you in his team because he’s just spending time with you.” he tells you and you laugh “I might not know him for a long time but I can tell who I am making deals with. He’s a very direct guy.” 
“I know he is.” 
“If it’s not me, he’s the next best option.” 
“That’s what I’ve been saying since this has been happening.” 
“I am happy for you, really.” 
“Thank you Marc.” you tell him.  Later on Toto comes back with your drinks and the three of you discuss for sometime. Later on and only after you’ve completed your duties for the day you wave Toto and Marc goodbye and go back to your hotel. You sit in your room, have an extra long video call with Sara in which you tell her everything about today and all the days you’ve been missing from Monaco and she texts you a photo from her balcony in Monaco which you post in your official instagram story in order to make everyone believe that you are actually there and not in Azerbaijan. You watch a bunch of drive to survive episodes to prepare for your upcoming interviews and then take a long relaxing shower. Before you even realize it is time for dinner and just as you were thinking of it you get a text 
Wolff
Are you coming over for dinner?
You 
Nah, I am actually thinking that maybe I should get some rest before tomorrow. I will be ordering something here instead
Wolff
Okay. I hope you are alright 
You 
Yes, all good but I would like to be excluded from tomorrow’s practice session. Only if I am not needed that is
Wolff
You are always needed but you are always working hard and think you deserve to have the session off
You
Thank you Toto, I won’t forget that ;)
Wolff 
I hope you won’t 
After your chat with Toto you decide to order some dinner in your room and after that you spend some time on your socials before going to bed. The next day you wake up early as you hear someone knocking at your door. Well, it’s not just someone, in fact, it is Lewis who is at your door and right by his side is his best friend, Roscoe. You were expecting them since Lewis told you he would bring Roscoe over to your suite before hitting the track for FP3 and now you are supposed to take care of him and bring him back to the paddock just before qualifying, when Angela will take over from you. “Good Morning. Were you sleeping?”
“I was yeah but I was planning to wake up either way.”
“This is my good boy Roscoe” he says and he kneels and pats his back “Good boy” he says. “He is adorable.” you tell him and you also kneel to pet him. “He might be a little shy at first, he just wants a lot of cuddling and playing. I am sure he will love you though.” 
“I hope he will, we will have to spend some time together before Miami.” 
“Toto mentioned that you didn’t want to come, did  you decide otherwise?” 
“I did yeah, we are planning to come on Friday so Roscoe will be there by then. When are you flying from New York?” 
“Thursday morning, I have media duties, I am not like you.” he laughs
“Well, I am not going to the Met either so I guess we are even.”
“Yeah right. Am I going to see you at qualifying?” 
“Of course, I plan on coming, I will bring Roscoe to you later.” 
“Good, see you then I guess.” 
“Bye Lewis.” you say as you wave him goodbye.  Roscoe and you enter your suite and you can see him running in his tiny feet trying to take in the space around him. You decide to take a shower but you leave the door open and as soon as you come out of the tub you find Roscoe sitting there waiting for you. For the rest of the time you play with his favorite toy that Lewis left you and he lies on your side as you take a look at the morning news. When the time comes, you get ready and hit the track once again but this time with Roscoe Hamilton on your side. You can see photographers taking pictures of you but you remain completely calm as your face mask and your hair hide your real identity and enter the Mercedes hospitality. You drop Roscoe off to Lewis’ suite where Angela takes over, and text Toto who you can clearly see from the garage that you’re currently sitting in. Toto is just outside making statements to broadcasting channels and companies ahead of qualifying and you are sitting there on the right side of his chair waiting for him to come back as soon as the broadcast of qualifying begins. The session is pretty good for the team, meaning Mercedes and the drivers manage to get P2 and P3. Max is sitting in P1 for tomorrow’s start, a brilliant lap from him you think. “2nd and 3rd are pretty good positions.” Toto says. “The only thing that scares me is Max in P1.” 
“We’ve got him, the setup for the race will be even better, Mick has been running the data from the analysis the engineers made based on your comments on the simulator and we’ve seen impressive lap times. We’ll get this for sure.”
“I never doubted their skills, I am sure they can even make the Williams work.” 
“They are not doing miracles, they are just engineers.” Toto says and you laugh “They had some good guidance, we wouldn’t have found the exact setup if it wasn’t for you.” 
“It’s just Saturday though. We will see tomorrow.” 
“You’re right.” he tells you “About tonight, you don’t have any plans right?” 
“Except for laying in bed as soon as I get back and ordering dinner I don’t plan on doing anything else.” 
“Dinner and movie then?” he asks and you nod  “Hitting the track together ?” you ask and he blinks a couple of times. “How come?” 
“Well, won’t I be sleeping in your suite tonight?” 
“I am surprised that you’re even proposing that.” 
“Well if you don’t want to, I have plenty of space in my suite, I will be sleeping all alone again.” 
“Okay, dinner and sleepover in my suite for tonight.”
“Will you be doing press?” you ask.“Only for an hour or so, after that I need you with me in the post qualifying meeting with the mechanics.” he tells you. “Where?” you ask surprised. “I need someone to write some notes down for me during that meeting so I figured you would want to join.”
“But-” you hesitate and he interrupts you before you can finish up your sentence “I don’t have any issue with you, I fully trust you.”
“I know, you’ve been quite vocal about it.” 
“Well, best believe it. Also, you won’t be there just for note taking, you can partake to the whole meeting with your points or ideas” 
“You cannot be serious.” you tell him. “I am as serious as it gets Horner. Wait for me outside your office in an hour.” Toto says as he waves at you and disappears from your sight. After an hour you find him outside your office. Both of you attend the post-quali meeting where you participate with a lot of questions about the performance of the car. At some point you also hear praise from Bono about the setup that you proposed. Well, he didn’t exactly give credit to you, since for him it’s nowhere near your job to give mechanical input about a car set up but he did say that whoever came up with the insights on the setup was a great help. The car was flying compared to the free practice yesterday. It turns out that you actually helped them and you now, more than ever, feel a part of a team that embraces you even if it isn’t directly said to your face. As soon as the meeting is done you and Toto go back to the hotel, wasting no time in the paddock. You get directly back to Toto’s suite where food is already served. The both of you eat and then you relax for a while on the couch
“I am so exhausted from today.” you tell him 
“Do you want to sleep?” he asks
“How about we watch a movie?” 
“You are going to sleep in the first 5 minutes” 
“I promise you I won’t” you tell him “Not if the movie is good anyways” 
“How about La La Land?” he asks and you look at him and burst into laughter. “You want to watch La La Land? Are you serious?” 
“I just happen to know that you love it.”
“Yeah but do you actually like it?” you ask. Toto clears his voice“Um, I haven’t watched it.” and you answer surprised “You cannot be serious.”
“I am. Whether you believe it or not, I don't watch such movies. Or any movies at all.”
“You are traveling 300 days out of 365 and you don’t watch movies? What do you do on the plane?”
“Read the news, sleep. It’s not that I don’t watch movies, it’s just that it is not on a regular basis.”
“I will make you a cinema fan, I swear. La La Land was game changing for me. That’s what we are going to watch. I don’t care if you don’t like musicals.” you say and you navigate in the TV menu to find the movie stream “Oh and by the way, if you haven’t watched Mamma Mia yet, I will get my ass off this suite and not talk to you until you watch it.”
“I have watched it and I can say that I actually liked it.”
“Aren’t you ashamed to say it Mr. Perfect Image?” you ask him. “Not to you. You clearly watch that kitsch fest that is Eurovision and love musicals so I am not the one to be ashamed here.” he says. “Hey!” you yell at him.“Just press play Horner.” he says and you follow his instructions. During the whole movie you can see he watches with pure interest, even during the songs which he doesn’t know he seems like he’s having fun. You are doing your part to keep him entertained, singing all the songs since this is probably your 50th rewatch. You make all the fun and smart remarks that you’ve seen on socials from other fans of the movie to keep him engaged. When the movie ends, during the epilogue scene and towards the end you can see him tensing, kind of trying to cover his emotions up. As the credits roll you turn to him.  “So? What do we think about one of the most amazing musicals made to this day?” 
“The ending” he says and pauses. “The ending what?” you ask him. “The ending was weird. Like it really made you believe that this could work but it actually was the ‘What could have been’ moment. It was kind of brutal.”
“Well, that was the intention. To show that two people had to let go of each other to achieve their dreams. It’s because they loved each other that they decided to do this. Now that I am thinking of it, it kind of is brutal, but it’s realistic. Life is brutal sometimes.”
“Do you analyze every movie that you see like this?” 
“Well, yeah? That’s the point of watching a movie, it’s not looking at beautiful pictures for three hours straight and then going to sleep.” 
“So you’re really passionate about it then.” 
“I am yeah.”
“It’s kind of nice that you find things that you really like and are so passionate about them” 
“You can also do it, you know. Being that one guy who’s obsessed with managing a team, finance and racing isn’t all you can ever be. You can have hobbies and other interests. I just think you are scared to break that flawless facade, which is funny because I genuinely believe that you are a man that is full of passion and you want to show it to people. You are afraid that if anyone outside of your safety bubble finds that you are human and not a well programmed robot that performs at its peak day in day out, your life will end. I know you try to be open about things that concern you and people around you, like how you’ve been speaking out about your mental health, but showing your real self can be hard for you but you should really try.” you tell him and he sits there just listening “How about we make this a thing? Movie night, once a week. Or more if you have more recommendations.”
“Am I about to turn you into a cinema noob?”
“Shut up.” he says and checks his watch that is resting on the arm of the couch you are currently sitting on. “How about going to sleep? We have to be at the paddock tomorrow morning.”
“Yeah sure.” you say and both of you walk off to the bedroom where you sleep until Toto’s alarm goes off. “Good Morning.” he says, his voice deeper than usual, with that sleep raspiness standing out “Hello.” you tell him and you can feel him shifting next to you“It’s race day” 
“I am aware. I have a really good feeling about today.”
“Hm” he says “Do you sense a win?” he asks and he plants a kiss on your cheek. You could get used to it. “I actually do. I feel like we are going to do well.” and you can almost hear him laughing “Who’s we?” he asks you. “Mercedes?” you tell him and he laughs, content that you actually consider his team yours by now.You lay still on the bed for a few more minutes, sitting in complete silence but you can feel the two of you debating whether or not you should get off the bed. You and Toto are too lazy to do anything but like always he’s the one who takes the initiative and moves. “Come on, get yourself ready. We have to be down at the paddock in 45 minutes.”
“I don’t need 45 minutes.”
“Oh you’re sure about that?” he asks. “Positive. You can time me if you want.” you reply.“Yes?” he asks. “Yea. But I am not going to race myself to get ready without breakfast first.” 
“I thought you were smart enough to figure out that we are always having breakfast at the track.” You don’t reply, you just sit and stare outside the window while Toto is using his phone. With his serious voice he says “Hey Siri, call Jasmine.” and then his phone starts dialing. It’s not after a minute that a female voice answers the phone. “Hello Jasmine, this is Toto, can I have my full breakfast order done and served in 45 minutes in my office?” he asks and waits for a few seconds. “I also want two servings of the same order, that in my office too, same time.” he says and you smile at the chat he’s having with his employee. “Also, it is really important that you find Mr Lord and let him know that I will not be available for the next 2 hours and I don’t want any distraction while I am in my office. Yes. Yes. Thank you Jasmine.” he says and he ends the call. “Now that you know breakfast is waiting, go get ready. Now.” 
“Is this an order?” 
“I am already counting.” he says and you run to get ready.You start running around his suite grabbing all of the things you need for race day as Toto sits on the couch scrolling on his phone while he gives you some glances. 15 minutes later you are ready to go, bag on your shoulder, shoes on. “I’m ready” you say standing and looking at him. “You are quick.” he says, still scrolling. “I am. We could go now, although you are not ready.” 
“It won't take more than 5 minutes.” 
“Really?” you ask “Yes. I just put my clothes on, get my iPad and my computer in my bag and I’m ready to go.”
“Oh I thought you needed time to get your face ready for cameras.”
“Nope, I’m all natural, the one who needs to get her face ready is you.”
“I didn’t do anything on my face except from washing it and applying some sunscreen. I am 100% natural today.”
“I see. Although you cannot convince me that when you were at Red Bull you took less than 35 minutes to get ready.”
“Well yeah I needed like half an hour to get my hair and make up done. I have to get camera ready every day. I was always late and Christian yelled at me so many times. Now no one sees me so it really doesn’t matter if I look like shit.”
“You don’t look like shit, you are great.” he tells you “Aw thanks.” you say and you drop your bag on the floor and sit next to Toto on the couch and give him a peck on his cheek. He turns and looks at you and kisses you right on the lips, instantly deepening the kiss laying you on the couch. You smile in that kiss and keep going, tangling your fingers on his hair, pulling him closer. He puts his hand under your waist and pulls you closer and you can already feel a burning desire. “How about we get back to bed?” he asks. “We have to go Toto” you manage to say between kisses.“I don’t want to leave.” he says. “We can miss the race to be honest.” you tell him. “Yes we can.” he tells you “But we won’t. Plus you’ve already ordered us your breakfast”
“You’re better.” he says and you scoff when you hear his words. “Oh god, behave Wolff” you tell him and you push him away teasingly. You walk away from him and he sits there, resting his head on the back of the couch trying to calm himself. “You got to get ready now” 
“Okay.” he says unwillingly and stands up and starts getting ready. Half an hour later you take the walk from the hotel to the paddock which has already begun getting flooded with people. Both you and Toto take your breakfast at his office and then you follow him around in his pre race routine, from fan zones to debriefs, to interviews and finally to the grid. You spot Christian and Max many times during your time there but Toto doesn’t say anything more than a Hello to both of them. You watch Max get ready to hop in the car in front of both Lewis and George and can’t help but feel a bit of anger that he is sitting on pole. You know Mercedes’ car is fast, it’s more deserving to be in P1 than Max. You know you have to work hard to bring them in P1 and P2, because the Red Bull is not slow either, you know the car from inside out, and you know it’s capable of winning. It’s only a race’s time. When it is time you manage to greet Lewis in a flurry of cameras, fans and engineers at the grid and head back to the Mercedes garage. As you head towards the entrance of the garage you hear your (fake) name being called and you turn to see Cynthia outside the Red Bull garage as she shouts good luck to you and you yell back at her, wishing her good luck. You take your place at the fantasy island and watch the race start. Max launches off perfectly, at the right time and Lewis and George get a little left behind. As the race goes on, Max is still in front of the two Mercedes drivers, who are actually closely following him. You keep watching fully focused on the telemetry screens in front of you, and listening to the talks between team members about pace and strategy. Not long after the race start, you see both cars overtaking the Red Bull and launching off into the distance. The cars are quite quick but Max keeps following them, in DRS range. The rest of the field stays back as the two black and the one blue car fight to get the first place. As soon as it is time for strategy calls you can hear the team agreeing on a double stack for the pit stops, and so it happens, but as it is normal, double stacks can’t always be flawless. George’s stop is perfectly timed and great in duration so that the undercut will be strong enough but on the other hand, Lewis who has been really unlucky with some shitty stops has it again. The front right tire doesn’t come off as quick and the stop lasts a whooping 5.6 seconds, which makes Lewis lose a track position to Max and a whole 2 seconds to him as well. Toto gets so frustrated with the stop that he smashes the desk like he always does and the race continues. Toto is all the time on the radio with the strategists and the mechanics and as a result he has no time to talk to you. Lewis is chasing Max but failing. Max is much quicker than he is and when he does reach him he is not able to make a move on him. The race finishes with George in 1st place, Max in 2nd and Lewis in 3rd.  As always Toto reaches and presses the button to congratulate George and you can see the message being broadcasted on TV. George happily replies and celebrates, thanking Toto and the team. And then Toto moves on to congratulate Lewis. Lewis is much less excited than George was. He just thanks Toto and the team and switches his radio off. You realize from the first minute of the broadcast that Lewis is kinda pissed off and disappointed.
“We won” Toto turns and tells you with a smile on his face.  “Lewis is disappointed I’m sure. But yeah at least George won.” you tell him. “I know Lewis will be disappointed. We let him down today, he’s not going to be glad. He did everything he could but still the car just couldn’t work to get past Max.”. “I am really hoping he will be alright.” 
“It’s Lewis, he’s always bigger than this. A title got stolen from him and he kept on going. I am sure he’s going to come out of this car, go to press and celebrate with us even though he might feel bitter about the third position.”
“Yeah, you probably know him better than I do.” you say and then Toto leaves you in the garage while he’s walking around the paddock talking to journalists, Sky Sports, F1 TV. Later on there’s indeed a celebration with the team for George’s win and Lewis’ podium and everyone gathers there. There’s the usual team picture and then the champagne celebrations which everyone tries to avoid but gets caught up to. After the whole thing winds down you find Lewis sitting outside the garage and you sit with him “Congrats for today!” you tell him trying to cheer him up “Uhh, I don’t know man, this isn’t my best result, but thanks either way.”
“Come on Lewis, you know you did the best you could, and it’s okay, I was in the garage next to Toto and right after that mistake he kept on trying and asking on how you could get past Max and even George but I guess the stars didn’t align for you today but for George.”
“I guess you’re right. I feel like I am overreacting but you know I have to keep my head up, nothing comes out of complaining.” Lewis says. “You just somehow became your own therapist and you overcame the whole thing in like 5 minutes. I hate you.” you tell him laughing. “I’ll teach you how to do it, it seems like you will need it when you leave us.” he says reminding you of your situation in Red Bull. “Definitely” you tell him and you sit there in silence for a while until Toto comes by you. “We’ve got to get going, we only got one and a half  hour before the jet leaves”.
“You’re leaving now?” Lewis asks and Toto nods but some mechanic comes to talk to him 
“Will Roscoe be joining us?” you ask. “About that, I will be flying with Valtteri and will drop him to Nice before flying to NYC. I was thinking about spending a little more time with Roscoe before dropping him off to you. Is it okay if Valtteri drops him by your place later on?” 
“Oh no problem, give him my number so that he can text me once you are in Nice.” 
“Great!”
“Lewis I really gotta get going, I have to pack my things back at the hotel before leaving.”
“Of course. I’ll see you in Miami. Take good care of Roscoe.”
“I will” you tell him and you wave him goodbye. After that you leave the track alone since Toto is still busy at the track. You go back to your suite and pack your things and with 45 minutes still left you take your phone and ring Toto. “Are you in your room?” you ask. “No, still at the track.” he says and you reply slightly surprised “Wait, what are you still doing on track?”
“I am having a discussion with Stefano about technical directives and he can’t stop talking.”
“Are you sure you’re going to make it? Are your stuff packed?” 
“No they are not, I thought I would have enough time to do it now but he thinks we are having a meeting.”
“Why don’t you tell him that you have to catch your flight?”
“Because he will propose that we fly together” he answers “I keep checking my watch but he doesn’t get the message”
“Oh then try to get out of this discussion asap.” 
“Will do. See you in a while” he says and he hangs up. You check your bag and you find Toto’s suite card so you decide to go to his suite and pack his suitcase. You take everything off the closet and start folding them and placing them in his carry on, take his shoes as well as his stuff from the bathroom and place them in the suitcase. Lastly you take all of the chargers and laptops and stuff them into his bag. You take a seat on his couch now both of your suitcases fully packed and ready to go but he’s nowhere to be found. 20 minutes before the time that you have to be in the airport your phone rings and his name pops up on the screen. You accept the call. “Hey” you say. You “We are not going to make it on time. I only just got to the hotel.” he says and you hear footsteps outside his door. “And? We still have 20 minutes.” 
“Everything is unpacked. We are going to be late.”  he replies and the door opens. He sees you sitting on the couch and ends the call. He walks in the hallway with a confused expression“What are you doing here?” he says and you point at the suitcase and bag left in the middle of the living room area. “I packed.” you tell him and you smile. At this very moment you see a very anxious but happy Toto walking towards you and placing a kiss on your head. “Thank you” he says. “I had time to kill, a spare key card and I figured you might be late so I thought why not. I hope that I packed them in the right way. Oh and make sure that I got everything.”
“It’s perfect, thanks.” he says and he takes a look around the suite, looking for things he might have forgotten. Five minutes later you are ready to go, you leave the hotel, you drive to the airport and get there 10 minutes late but still the jet is ready to go. You board, take the seat opposite to Toto and get as comfortable as you can, he takes a book out of his bag and places it on the table in front of you. You take off from Baku and you start feeling slightly worn out. “Sleepy?” he asks. “Is that so obvious?”
“Yes.” 
“It’s just that races wear me out so much. In Red Bull it was easier but now I literally spent twice as much energy because of the whole hiding thing.”
“I get what you mean, I can’t get through it without a cup or two of coffee” 
“It is funny because the race is during the afternoon but it still drains me” 
“You should sleep.” he tells you. “I won’t.” you tell him and he hums “So, tell me about the technical directives you were discussing with Stefano.” Toto starts explaining what he and Domenicalli were discussing along with some other team principals and you try really hard to follow what he was telling you. You were asking him questions but you felt your eyes burning “I will just close my eyes because they hurt but I will keep listening.” you tell him. “Sure” he says and he laughs. “Hey, I won’t sleep.” and he teases you “I bet you won’t.”. You close your eyes and you follow Toto’s voice, keep asking him questions and discussing until you are less and less conscious and fall completely asleep. Almost 4 hours after, you wake up, feeling the plane descending into lower altitudes. You feel surprisingly warm and open your eyes only to see Toto’s jacket all over you. You slept through the whole flight. You move slightly and Toto, who is sitting just opposite to you reading his book lifts his eyes from the book to you.“Glad to see you didn’t sleep.” he tells you  “Hey, don’t make fun of me!” 
“I love it when you know you are not right and still try to convince others that you are.” You roll your eyes at his comment and take a look outside the window. “Where are we?” 
“Almost in Nice, we will be landing in 20” 
“Cool. I can’t wait to sleep in my bed.” 
“You’re not coming over?” 
“No, I’ve had enough of you during the past days.”
“Right.” 
“How’s your book?” you ask. “It is good.” Toto says 
“I’ll read it after you.”
“I’ll be happy to lend it to you.” 
“Oh and if I like it I will need access to that Wolff Reading List.” 
“I don’t have a reading list.”
“Oh god what?”
“It is not a competition Horner, I read for my pleasure.” 
“So do I but I have a reading list. I read reviews and I sometimes write them anonymously.”  
“Well, I don’t give a shit about reviews, I read the synopsis and if I find it interesting I read it. I am sure some of my favorite books have the shittiest reviews but I don’t care.” he says. “Wow, you are stronger than I am. If a review isn’t good I won’t even start the book.”
“That’s some of the shit people of your generation do”
“Oh yes I keep forgetting that you are a boomer.” you joke “We are not going to discuss this again.” he says in a strict tone “Okay sir.” you mock him. “Fuck off, go back to sleep.” he says and he turns back to his book. “Thanks for the blanket by the way.” you say but he gives you no answer and you laugh. “Are you going to drive me back to Monaco?” you ask. “No you should call Marc” he says. “I hate you Wolff.” you tell him. “I hate you too.” he laughs. A short time after you land in Nice and contrary to what he said earlier, Toto orders for all of your baggage to be loaded to his car. You take the drive back to Monaco while discussing  paddock gossip which Toto repeats isn’t a thing he does but he happily participates in the whole discourse. Half an hour later you arrive at home, Toto parks the car in the garage and you get your bags out of the car and take the lift to your apartment. You hug him goodbye and go to your apartment where you instantly unpack and get comfortable and sit in your bedroom where you binge watch gossip girl until it is late enough and Valtteri is calling you to drop Roscoe off. You text him your details and 5 minutes later he’s knocking your door.  “Hi Valtteri.” you greet him. “Hi” he says shyly, holding Roscoe’s leash on his one hand and a bag with Roscoe’s food and toys
“Lewis told me to drop those off. Including Roscoe.” 
“I will be taking care of him while Lewis is in New York For the Met Gala.”
“Oh yeah, I would take care of him but Tif and I have to go to a bike competition in France”
“Don’t worry, I will take care of him instead. Good to see you, did you have a nice flight?”
“Yes, it was pretty decent, you know how it is when traveling in private.”
“Yeah definitely.” you tell him. “We missed you in F1, when are you coming back?” he says and for a moment you freeze before you register that you supposingly weren’t in Baku this weekend. “I missed you guys too. I don’t know when I am coming back yet, I am still adapting to my new life here in Monaco.”
“You are right, we will be happy to see you back.” 
“Thank you for dropping Roscoe off for me”
“You’re welcome.” 
“Good luck for your competition.”
“Thanks, goodnight!” Valtteri says and leaves you with Roscoe.
Roscoe gets in and moves around the apartment trying to get used to it. You play a bit with him but at some point you are too tired and get to bed where Roscoe joins you and curls next to your feet and falls asleep. You do the same for the night. The next day you wake up in your new home, register the fact that now you have to take care of Roscoe. You take him out for his morning walk and you go back home where you decide to text Sara once again. 
You
I am back in Monaco. Are you up for some coffee?
Sara
Oh welcome back! Of course I am up for coffee. Your place or mine?
You 
Cafe de Paris in an hour?
Sara
Omg sounds perfect. Gotta go get ready.
You 
I will be bringing Roscoe over too
Sara
God I love this dog. Of course bring him over, the dog is a socialite
You shut your phone and start getting ready, dressing up appropriately for the Cafe de Paris. You feed Roscoe and get him ready and after an hour you are sitting in Cafe de Paris with Sara. You both enjoy your drinks while the bulldog is sitting by your side and you keep gossiping about people you know. Sara spills her work gossip and you keep discussing different bullshit. Time goes by and both of you get hungry so you propose cooking dinner at your place. You and Sara get back home and you start cooking a risotto while she drinks wine and you tell her all the paddock gossip. “So turns out Christian hired that bitch who was hooking up with Toto.”
“He did what?” 
“Yeah, he hired her during my first week off the team.”
“Oh my gosh. I might sound a bit harsh but don’t you think that your dad is a bit problematic?” Sara asks “I’ve been thinking that since I officially joined the team, S. I just don’t understand his logic” you say and you hear your phone ringing. When you check you see Christian’s face popping up.“Speak of the devil”.
“Hey dad” you say 
“What are you doing?” 
“I’m good you?”
“No, I mean, what are you doing outside with Hamilton’s dog?”
“Oh Roscoe? Lewis is flying to the Met Gala and he wants someone to take care of his dog.”
“And you suddenly became best friends with Hamilton that he trusts you with his dog? You have the audacity to walk him in Monaco’s most crowded places? There are pictures all over the internet.”
“I think you are overreacting.” you tell him 
“How did the dog end up in your hands? Were you in Baku yesterday?” 
“What the fuck dad? I was in Monaco, I had Valtteri drop him off.”
“Are you teaming up with them? Do you think it’s going to make me change my mind and take you back?” 
“Look, I have a risotto cooking up on my stove and I do not plan on burning this place down, so let me get it straight for you. I am just taking care of a dog that for some reason triggers you in a way that nothing ever has. I am doing a favor to a friend. Nothing to piss you off. I don’t know why you think everyone is constantly plotting against you but the reality is that we are not. Take a chill pill and get used to seeing pictures of me with Roscoe until Lewis takes him back. And for fuck’s shake, let me live my life.” you say and you turn off the call. “What was that about?” Sara asks. “There are pictures of us and Roscoe from today and Christian was pissed because of a freaking dog.” 
“Oh then you were right to speak to him like that” 
“Thanks” you say. As soon as the food is ready you and Sara enjoy your lunch at your balcony with a sea view and after a couple of hours she leaves you alone. You clean up the kitchen, do the dishes and get changed to a tracksuit and a pair of sneakers for Roscoe’s night walk. You enjoy a walk along the coast of Monte Carlo and later on you come back to your building. To your surprise you see Toto just outside, dressed in a suit while waiting for his car. “Hi” you tell him. “Hello. Out for a walk I see?” he asks. “Yes, Roscoe needed his night walk.” you say as Roscoe approaches him. Toto instantly takes two steps backwards looking at the bulldog “Where are you off to?” you ask. “I’m going to a business meeting.” you are interested about his day “With a sponsor ?” and he replies giving you all the information you ask for “No, it’s for one of my finance jobs.” 
“I see.” you say and you spot someone with a phone pointing to you two “We are being videotaped”
“It’s been a while since we’ve last seen you in the paddock miss Horner” he says “Oh yeah, I’ve been having some time off that’s why.”
“I’ve heard the rumors, met your substitute as well. When do you think you’re coming back ?” 
“I haven’t decided yet, I am still recharging to be honest.” 
“Good thing to do. Take your time” 
“Thank you Mr. Wolff, take care.” you tell him and leave him to go back to your apartment. You take Roscoe off his leash and he slowly walks to his bed where he falls asleep. You lay on your couch and check your socials. It’s the first Monday of May and your timelines have already been flooded with Met Gala content, from the setting of the red carpet to some of the celebrities and acquaintances getting ready for the event. You promised Lewis that you will stay awake to see him on the red carpet and for this reason you decide to take a nap. It’s not that late but since you have to wait for Lewis until later that night you chose to kill some time this way so you drift off to a sweet nap. In the middle of your sleep you hear the doorbell ringing and you walk half asleep to the door where you check through the peephole to see who it is and you see the one tall austrian outside your door dressed with the same clothes as earlier. You open the door and you let him in.“What are you doing here?” you tell him, voice sounding a bit hoarse so Toto gets the hint. “Have you been sleeping? Did I wake you up?” he asks a little worried, “Ummm, you kinda did” you tell him, “Oh sorry, I should go then, let you rest.” 
“I was going to wake up anyway.  I promised Lewis I will watch him on the red carpet today.” you tell him and he asks “What is it today?”. You laugh with his ignorance “Oh god we are never going to get an invite if you keep asking those questions.”
“Why do we need an invitation for this?”
“It’s one of the most exciting nights of the year Toto, the Met Gala, every relatable celebrity dresses up in custom designer pieces that match to a theme and they have a dinner or something.” 
“Prom for rich people?” 
“Kinda. I am surprised you aren’t aware of it, since Lewis has been going during the past 3-4 years if I’m not mistaken.”
“Pop culture isn’t my thing.” he says while he takes off his jacket and hangs it on a chair nearby. “I can see it” you reply. Toto joins you on the couch, he sits on the side, takes off his shoes and unbuttons the top button of his shirt. You grab your computer and sit close to him. You open the TV and you play the Vogue Livestream of the event while Toto sits bored next to you switching his gaze from the television to the ceiling, to your laptop, to you and then back to the television. As you are watching the event, Toto stands up and takes a look at your bookshelf and he picks a book which he starts reading while you are too busy waiting for Lewis. Toto speed reads the book as you text Lewis asking him to let you know when he will be joining the red carpet. At some point you distinctively hear Roscoe’s paws on the floor as he runs to the living room. He sits just below your feet which you have laid on the coffee table while Toto is laying on the long side of the couch. Roscoe takes a look at you and then at Toto, both of you too far absorbed to be paying attention to him and for this reason the poor dog decides to make you pay attention to him.  Roscoe starts barking and in a fraction of a second, Toto slams his book close and starts backing up and climbing on the back of the couch. When you notice him you burst out laughing. You should have been aware that Toto is afraid of Roscoe, that’s why he was skeptical about having the dog in the same place as him during a transatlantic flight. It seems so hilarious to you that a grown ass man such as Toto is afraid of an old bulldog, mainly because Toto is who he is. The intimidating boss, the scary rival. You immediately grab your phone and start recording. “Lewis, I know you’re in line for the red carpet and you probably won’t see this until tomorrow but you have to see this.” you say as you record yourself and then turn the rear camera on. “I don’t know if you are aware of it but it seems like Mr. Wolff here is afraid of your dog.” you say as you see Toto on the back of the couch and Roscoe staring at him. “Hey! It’s not funny, please get him to leave!” he says and just as he completes his sentence Roscoe continues barking at him, Toto’s expression is essentially pure panic at this point but you continue laughing. You know Roscoe just wants to play with him but he is not very much aware of it. “Please just stop recording and get him out of here” he says again, you are still recording. “He’s not going to hurt you” you tell him, “You don’t know it” Toto replies. “Okay Lew, I have to take care of this, we are still waiting for you here” you say and you show the Vogue Livestream on your TV “Have fun!”  you say and you stop recording, sending the video to Lewis. After that you leave your phone down, you grab Roscoe and bring him by your side, far from Toto, who seems like he lost 5 years of his life. The dog lays on the couch as you rub his belly and he seems happy. “See, that’s what he wanted. Just a bit of attention and love.” you tell him “Well, if he wanted that he shouldn't have barked at me. I was scared to death” 
“Toto Wolff is afraid of dogs.” you say “I am. You cannot imagine how many times I’ve managed to avoid any interaction with this dog during the past 8 years.”
“I was just wondering how Lewis didn’t have any idea of this.”
“Oh, did you send the video? Did I make a fool of myself on Lewis as well?”
“No, that’s not making a fool of yourself, that’s adorable” 
“Until Lewis posts it on his socials” 
“He won’t” you say 
“You don’t know Lewis, he loves making fun of me every chance he gets”
“I mean sometimes you’re hilarious so he’s right, you shouldn’t be angry.” you tell him 
“Most of the time I’m not actually angry, I am just acting like I am to make him feel bad” 
“You are crazy” you tell him and you turn to catch a glimpse of the screen when you see Lewis coming up the red carpet. “Oh there he goes!” you say and Toto turns his attention to the screen and so does Roscoe once he realizes that his dad is on the tv. “That’s a daring outfit.” Toto comments as he watches Lewis posing on the red carpet. “Oh you suddenly have an opinion on fashion?” 
“Why shouldn’t I? You think you’re the only one with a fashion sense?”
“Darling, at least I have more than 3 outfits in my wardrobe” you tell him and he rolls his eyes. He knows you’re right but he still focuses on the television. You see Roscoe staring at the screen and you snap a photo which you post on your instagram stories right after lewis leaves the red carpet. “Did we just sit here to watch Lewis pose on the red carpet for 3 minutes?” 
“No, I am hoping he will be back for an interview shortly after.” you say and he nods, going back to the last page of the book he was reading and 5 minutes later Lewis comes on the screen again and both of you watch the interview ss
“You’re an expert on this aren’t you?” he asks “I have been watching for the past 10 years, Toto. Plus, they do love Lewis a lot, it was almost certain that they would give him the interview.”
“They do seem to have a preference for Lewis though.” he says 
“The truth is, as much as Max is supposedly my friend, he’s not that relevant out of our little world.” 
“How can you do that?” 
“Do what?” 
“Hang out with him”
“Look, he isn’t as much of a dick as he seems, he’s actually a pretty decent company and he’s a kind soul but only if you are close to him and that’s why he comes off as an asshole to everyone else.” you say and you yawn. “Sleepy?” he asks
“Yeah, I am starting to get tired. Are you going to stay?” 
“I would but Roscoe will be here.”
“He can sleep in the guest room, please stay?”
“I will, although I have a meeting tomorrow morning. I’ll just wake up early.”
“Okay” you tell him and you stand up taking Roscoe in your arms “Wanna pet him?” you ask. “Only because you’re holding him” he says as he pets Roscoe who’s now sleepy. You leave your living room and head towards the guest room where you leave the dog, closing the door behind you. By the time you are out the door you see that the living room is already empty and you head to your room where Toto is already laying in your bed. You change into your pajamas and climb in your bed where you fall asleep. The next day you wake up and as Toto said, he has already left for his meeting. You check your phone and you see several texts, the first one from Toto reads a simple Text me when you wake up. The second one is from Marc, saying Parties ahead of the Cannes film festival are just starting, thought it would be nice for us to be seen together, to silence people about our whereabouts. Only as friends though. Accommodation in my yacht. Tristan will be here, bring Sara as well. RSVP. You give it a thought, thinking about how Christian made a scene about Roscoe, and how he asked you where you were. You text Toto first, to make sure it won’t be a problem. 
Woke up just fine although i would have liked you to be here and not in that stupid meeting of yours. Also, Marc just sent me an invitation about a party tomorrow and I think maybe I should go, do some pr job, give people something to talk about
Toto 
You should go just don’t get too wild
You 
I won’t,besides Sara will be probably coming as well.But the thing is it will be in Cannes, but I’ll make sure to be back to Nice on time for the flight
Toto 
No problem
You leave your phone on dnd and continue your tasks for the day, doing some light cleaning on your apartment when the doorbell rings. You open the door and you find a donut and a cup left on your doormat, the cup has a note on "Sorry for not being here for breakfast, consider this as my not so homemade breakfast." You smile and shut the door, immediately texting Sara, inviting her over for coffee and gossip. Once she comes over you share the news on the party for which she agrees immediately and she proposes a shopping spree for the party. You agree with her and shortly after you are off to the shops where you try on different outfits, occasionally texting Toto for his opinion on some of the outfits. At the end of the day, Sara ends up with 4 or 5 bags from the shops and you buy one simple black  dress  from Sandro to wear for the event. You grab a drink at the Blue Gin and you head back home where you pack your bags both for the party at Cannes and for the trip to Miami. Before you get back to bed you receive a text from Marc.
Marc Taylor
I will be waiting for you tomorrow morning for our trip to Cannes
You 
Where will we find you?
Marc Taylor
At the marina, we will be using my yacht obviously
You 
We will be there @ 10:30. Should we bring coffee?
Marc Taylor
We have a barista on board. Just get your bags. 
The next day you wake up, dressing up with a maxi sundress suitable for the yacht trip. You later meet Sara and her driver drops you off at the Monaco marina, right outside Marc’s yacht. You get on board as members of Marc’s staff get your bags on the yacht and into your rooms. You follow Marc straight ahead and join him and Tristan on the deck. You can see people with cameras taking pictures of you from the marina and you play along. You do want paparazzi to see where you are and who you are with, you are confident that they will be running the story before the party today. You greet Tristan and walk the deck, taking the sun in and gazing into the mediterranean. Sara snaps some pictures of you and then the yacht leaves Monaco and sails to Cannes.  “What time does the party start?” you ask,"At 8 I believe.” Tristan replies, “We have to start getting ready as soon as we arrive there” Sara tells you 
“We will arrive in Cannes in an hour, you will be needing 6 hours to get ready?” 
“Haven’t you met Horner? She takes at least two hours to get ready for a day at the paddock, you think she will be getting ready in sooner than 5 hours for a party in Cannes?” Sara answers and you laugh. As you sail to Cannes, the four of you sit on the deck sipping champagne and gossiping about old acquaintances of yours until one hour later you arrive and you dock at the marina. Tristan and Marc go out for a walk and you and Sara stay on board to relax and get settled to your rooms. You leave Sara in her cabin and you relax outside on the deck. You snap a photo and post it on your stories and then start reading your book until you start getting ready, while listening to music. Tristan and Marc come an hour later and Tristan waves at you. You take your headphones off. “There’s someone that has a package for you outside”
“What package?”
“It’s an order from a fashion brand I think. They said you made the order from Monaco and sent it here”
“Oh yeah that” you say “Marc can you please get this for me?”
“Of course” Marc replies and leaves you behind with Tristan. “What are you reading?” he asks, “The Goldfinch” you tell him.
“Oh I heard it’s nice.” 
“It is really good, I’ll give it to you when I finish it”
“Great! Um, by the way, have you seen Sara?” 
“She’s in her cabin, probably planning today’s look. She doesn’t wake up looking as good as you see her.”
“Bet she looks even better when she wakes up” Tristan says and you burst out laughing.“You really like her don’t you?” you ask 
“I do. Not as much as Marc likes you though.” 
“Tristan, Marc and I have already discussed this.”
“You know he’s still trying though” he tells you but he stops talking as he sees Marc coming up to the yacht. “This is your package Miss.” says Marc and kneels in front of you showing you the box.“Thank you mr. Taylor” you tell him “I gotta go try it on and plan my look for today, see ya later losers.”. You walk away from Marc and Tristan and into your cabin where you untie the black bow on top of the box and open it to reveal a green silk dress and in the box, a black handwritten card, a handwriting you recognize."Yesterday night I was watching Succession, saw this dress on Shiv and thought it would look nice on you. Bis Bald.". You smile in disbelief and try the dress on and you manage to fish out your emerald Manolo shoes which perfectly fit the color of the dress. You decide to wear this to the party instead of your new bought Sandro dress and you undress since lunch is about to be served. After your meal you return to your room, and start getting ready. You take a shower, use a face mask and then fix your hair in a low bun chignon. You apply some light makeup and some jewelry for the party. When you get out of your cabin you see Marc and Tristan in their party suits. “Wow Horner” says Tristan but Marc just sits there staring at you. “We should try to snap some pictures until Sara is ready” he says again and pushes both you and Marc at the front of the yacht where he takes pictures of you both with your phone and your polaroid camera but his phone rings so Marc becomes your photographer for the moment. “You look stunning, the color is amazing.”
“Thanks” you say and you keep posing. 
When the whole photoshoot is done you check your pictures and decide to post one of them on your story but first you want to check that everything is okay from Toto’s side 
You 
[Sent 2 photos]
Your wish is my command. The dress is perfect. Tristan and Marc were stunned
Wolff
I knew as soon as I saw it that it would be a perfect fit. Glad they liked it. Hope Marc keeps his hands to himself though
You 
He will! About that, is it okay if I post the picture of me and him ? 
Wolff
Everyone is going to talk about you two being a couple so why not feed the story to them? It’s okay by me after all ,at the end of the day only I know that you will be sleeping in my bed for the weekend 
20 minutes later Tristan is already yelling at Sara to hurry up and when she does show up at the deck she sees you and stares at you. “Horner!????? What are you wearing?” she asks “You look stunning but bestie this wasn’t the plan was it?” You approach her and you whisper to her ear “It was a surprise gift I couldn’t say no to”. She scoffs. “And he won’t even bring me flowers” she says as she points at Tristan. A couple of photos later the four of you are off to the party. At the party there are a lot more photos, dancing, drinking, mingling and socializing. Everyone is enjoying the wonderful night including Sara, Marc and Tristan. You get lost in a discussion with some movie producer who happens to be at the party and at some point you see Marc approaching you along with a blonde woman, which you happen to know. “Horner!” Marc says as you greet the producer “Marc, I lost you an hour ago, where were you?” 
“With this badass. I am not sure you’ve two met but, this is Francesca Scorcese” 
“Taylor, I’ve met Horner before. You always forget nepo babies always know each other” 
“Absolutely” you say “What have you been up to since I last saw you?” you ask. The three of you start discussing and later on partying. Late at night the party starts drifting off and your quartet returns happily to the yacht. You gather all the pictures from today, making sure there’s enough you and Marc on them so that people will start believing that you are in a relationship. You post them on your instagram captioning them as “What were your favorite nepo babies up to ?”  and you shut your phone before falling asleep. The next morning you wake up and make sure everything is packed. Sara’s sister who happens to have a job in Nice and was taking care of Roscoe in the meantime comes and picks you up from Cannes and drives you to the airport where you finally meet Toto. “Morning!” you tell him and give him a little hug. You are already in incognito mode so you’re making sure no one is watching you. “Hello. How was your party night?” 
“We had a lot of fun actually. You know how our events are? Not even close to that”
“At least on those events we get to be at the same place.” 
“But as long as I can remember the only thing we’ve managed to do was fight” you tell him “Thanks for the dress again. Everyone was impressed” 
“That is for you telling me that I don’t have any fashion sense.” he teases you “Mr Wolff, it is time to board.” the lady at the gate says. You take your stuff, carrying Roscoe in his cage as well and you board the jet. You get comfortable and get Roscoe out of his cage but you hold him on your lap, making sure that he won’t get close to Toto. The plane takes off and you drift off to sleep as the lack of sleep from your party night becomes apparent. After 3 hours you open your eyes and look out the window as you are flying mid Atlantic. It takes a minute before you realize that Roscoe isn’t on your lap anymore and you take a glance around you and you see the bulldog sleeping on Toto’s lap. You laugh at the sight, thinking how some days before Toto was afraid to death and how now he peacefully sleeps with him. You snap two or three photos and send one of them to Lewis. 
You 
[Photo]
Character growth! We are on our way to Miami. See you there 
Lewis Hamilton 
That is insane. Ah man, can’t wait to tease Toto for all of this. Thanks for the content, Horner. See you at the track!
Shortly after you drift back to sleep and you only wake up when you feel the ground below you shaking. You open your eyes and look out of the window again to see the airport of Miami. You don’t register that you have finally arrived until you hear “Miss Horner, Mister Wolff, Welcome to Miami”. Toto looks around and tells you “Let’s see what this race week brings us” and you nod, mentally preparing yourself for another week at the F1 circus. 
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Text
Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley and Nancy Wheeler have a well-known channel on YouTube (the name is something horrible and punny that Eddie and Robin made up, way before they blew up - Four Some (just some four guys and gals you perv). They cover pretty much everything - music reviews, various activities like ice skating, pole dancing or sculpting, they do tasting videos, social experiments and much more. Their personalities are so different but somehow that only makes their content more appealing. It doesn't matter if their videos contain Steve and Eddie replicating the famous pottery scene from the Ghost (and Robin's screeches that they ruined a completely fine vase) or Robin testing whether Nancy's vocal range increases proportionately to how many wine glasses she drinks
Gradually they grow their audience and gather a small crew that works with them. Barb Holland does a lot of editing and directing and she is getting recognized for her achievements, just like Gareth Emerson for his work with sound. Everyone in their crew are friends and are supporting each other in growing and promoting their talents.
There is only one person who has always remained a mystery. The person filming them, always hidden behind a camera. Credits always mention Chris C. and the fanbase tries to pry and figure out who they are, they really do, but the group shuts down their attempts almost instantly. "Chris has been instrumental to this channel's success," Eddie says and there is something hard behind his eyes, something that almost never makes it past his laid-back attitude and usual theatrics. "They have decided to stay out of our videos for a reason and we'd like you to respect their decision."
Not everyone drops it, but the four creators assume a united front and eventually, people stop prying. So it comes as a shock when around a year later, a new video drops on the channel. But the face in it is unknown.
"Hi guys," the young woman smiles and she looks so dejected, so scared, but the sound guy Garreth sits next to her and squeezes her hand, grounding her. "I swore I'd never sit in front of a camera again, but...I think it's time. So let me introduce myself. I am Chrissy Cunningham, but you know me as Chris C. And also..." she takes a deep breath, "I am also Chrissy from the Cunningham family channel."
Chrissy goes through it all. She talks about her life with her mother, an obsessive family blogger, who had Chrissy give up all her hobbies, her friends, her privacy from a young age. How her only friend became the school outcast, Eddie, and she had to keep him a secret too - not because she was ashamed, he meant everything to her, but because her mother would steal him too. How she could never have anything of her own, was always on camera, always tested for reactions, always forced to perform and mocked for it at school. How she couldn't handle it anymore and as soon as she was eighteen, she moved in with Eddie and his uncle. How it was only then that she started learning about herself, about who she was and what she wanted to do. "Now that you know who I am, I hope you can look past what I was made to do years ago and see me as...me. Just me."
She and Gareth leave their seats and are replaced with Eddie and Nancy. While Eddie mostly sits quietly, Nancy introduces their newest project that Chrissy suggested - documentaries on dangers of YouTube, TikTok and their insufficient regulations, especially when it comes to family vloggers and loss of privacy. "It might not be everyone's cup of tea, but that is exactly the point", says Nancy and looks directly at the camera. "We're here on camera, showing you parts of our lives that we want to show. But there are many who didn't consent to this, many who are being exploited for views. And on behalf of this chanel, let me address those who think this is okay. We're coming for you."
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blacklegsanjiii · 6 days
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i absolutely adore your young sanji au!! If you don't mind, could you write more about him? Like, how did the other crews that know him react to his actual age? Or even some random interactions between the straw hats after finding out!
I'M TRYING TO BE ALIVE AGAIN I PROMISE I AM SO SORRY
Young!Sanji!!! Ahh, lovely boy, precious and soft and absolutely hating everyone find out how old he actually is. He feels no one takes him seriously after they find out. They always falter and stumble and it just...doesn't feel good to him?
I feel like Law finding out would full on make him trip and face plant into the ground because Robin probably mentions it off handedly but knowingly. She knows Sanji doesn't like Law calling him Stealth Black and this seems to be the quickest way for her to stop it. Sanji is walking ahead of them to a tea house somewhere while they're in Wano. Like she specifically phrases it in a way to show how cruel Judge is and when Law full stumbles it makes Sanji look and ask what's wrong. Law is stumbling up onto his feet and is confused and asks Sanji if he's really /seventeen/ and Sanji says he is with a shrug. Law knows he's not the youngest on the crew but understands because of his love of the Sora comics that they were closer to the truth than he had realized, even after the raid suit. Germa was far worse than he knew to even its own children. When they're sat and drinking tea, Law can't help but ask why he is physically not seventeen. Sanji just goes 'ahaha, that's Germa for you' and Law is reeling that the cook is also a child on the crew. Law doesn't really change how he acts with the cook though, he doesn't see his age, only his accomplishments which are numerable even if he was twenty one, he just admires the guy more now.
Sanji is not pleased at how people keep trying to baby him after finding out how old he is and how his family is, the rescue team is especially bad. Chopper keeps asking for more and more check ups on him and Sanji is trying to just deal with it, Zoro seems to be holding back during their spars when he doesn't have to be, when they're out at a bar he keeps stealing Sanji's drinks even though he's not even buzzed yet and Zoro hates wine. Zoro, for the life of him he doesn't want to view the cook differently, but finding out about the experiments and how young Sanji was when he went through everything that led him to Zeff makes him softer. He fucking hates it but he feels like he needs to give the cook an actual chance at being a child that was denied to him. Even if he didn't get a chance he and the other kids at the dojo did play as well as train, especially when they were younger, before he left and he plays with Luffy and Chopper all the time. So when he assists Robin and Nami with the cook and making the guy take breaks. He's started doing the dishes fully on his own and shoving the cook out of the kitchen after meals.
I feel like when Zeff found out his kid wasn't ten, his kid is six and looks ten. Zeff frowns deeply at the boy who acts like a ten year old in a lot of ways, most ways, a fucked up and traumatized one albeit, but he's still ten. Except he's not and Sanji's age really shows when people flirt or try to take him to their ships for activities more fitting for an adult or teenager. Except he's not one of those, he's twelve when someone first propositions him and Zeff loses it at the customer and talks to Sanji about what they're doing, what people want from him and that he gets to decide if he wants to or not. Because Sanji is physically four years older than he actually is and Zeff wants to kill the fucking bastard that did this to the kid. Zeff knows his kid is younger than he looks but he treats the boy like how he holds himself, he's smart, impulsive, thinks he owes his life to Zeff when he doesn't. Goddammit Zeff wants him to act like a damn kid but the kid doesn't want to! Kid feels like he can't because the kid needs to be useful so on the rare nights the Baratie is closed Zeff and the others will take the kid out to the upper deck or the top of the restaurant and teach him the constellations and if the kid falls asleep it's all the better.
The kid will never act his real age, but he has people to make sure he's taken care of. That's more than enough for Sanji.
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iamsherlocked1479 · 1 year
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Hey could you do a smut where virgin reader is pretty looking and Sherlock feels a little smitten. But she has lot's of admirers of her age so Sherlock thinks he doesnt have chance. but they ends up in a fucking situation. I don't know if that makes sense.
Hold it together
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Description: Pretty much what the request is Sherloc is mildly obsessed with you and becomes tired of watchng men talking to you just becuse your pretty and well you? you spend your days fantasising about sherlock taking your V-card and welll, he's an intelligent man ;) no use of y/n that i can rember
Word count: 3.3k words
Warnings: 18+ Smut so much smut. Losing virginity so hurts for a little bit.
That was guy number seven, Sherlock had only partly been paying attention to the party around him. He was too busy watching you, you were his soul focus. He wanted to make sure you were okay, it was John and Marys wedding and you were a bridesmaid. And as 
Janine had made him aware that it was tradition for a bridesmaid to sleep with a groomsman. He wasn’t going to let that happen to you, he had closely analysed each one of them, none of them were a good match for you. You were the main attraction of the evening besides the newlyweds, he had watched the way most of the singles and some of the taken men watched as you floated past them, well maybe not literally floated but to him you did. He hated the way he was so, how would he put it, human around you. He hated how he lingered slightly closer to you as he explained anything the way you scent intoxicated his mind breaking down any walls he built. He hated the way he always made sure he was awake to remind Mrs hudson to bring up tea in the morning so you would maybe stop and talk with him. He loved your little talks, he made it his mission that even if he could make you smile in the slightest it would pull at his heart causing his brain to fuzz as he watched your eyes brighten. 
Yet he could never understand why he couldn’t just tell you, part of him knew Mycroft would torture him if he found out about his childish crush, and then there was the age gap. There was a good twelve years between you, he wondered if that would put you off, if you thought he wouldn’t be able to keep up with a young thing like you. But he’d beg to differ, he would often find himself sleepless at night, tossing and turning ignoring the needs of his cock, before eventually giving in and toying with himself until he came moaning your name imaging all the positions he could make you cum in. He wondered how you liked it, if you would fight to be in control, pinning him down and riding him, or if you would lay there wanting him to take control. Either way he would just want to please you, he would make you cum until you couldn’t anymore. God if his brother could know what he thought of you. “Get it together he thought.” He looked over at you again leaning against the bar laughing with what was it? Gavin? The officer. He couldn’t remember and he didn’t really care. Until he did, he watched with jealousy as Leatrades arm reached out and touched your own as you laughed. He turned green clutching his glass, he wanted the way you pulled back slightly, he wasn’t going to let yet another man try his way with you.
“Honestly, you should come to the next one.” Gregg laughed, emptying his fifth drink.
“I’ll have to think about it.” You laugh while taking another nervous drink, Greg wasn’t exactly an unattractive man but he was recently divorced and very obviously emotional at the moment and you did not want to get caught up in that. And even if you did, you would have no idea how to even begin, at the ripe age of twenty four you had only managed to ever get to third base. Not that you didn’t want to, it's just you were aware of your looks, you weren’t big headed but as you’d been reminded by multiple people this evening you were pretty and you weren't about to become some guys trophy or bragging rights. And anyways how could you ever make it past third base if you wanted him. 
That's right your curly haired, insanely attractive, thirty six year old, high functioning sociopath, detective of a roommate. Who happened to be making his way over to you right now, yup your eyes don’t deceive you, he was zig zagging his way through the crowds with his eyes focused on you.
“So what do you say? Would you want to come to the next office gathering?” Greg still persisted handing you another glass of champagne.
“I uhh” yup you did it again, you completely blocked out the rest of the world over your attraction to an older man. “I’m sorry if I’ve led you on here Greg, i uhh.” You froze, how would you politely tell him to back off.
“Come on Gavn, can you go fund your rebound somewhere else please.” Sherlocks hand was firmly placed on Gregs shoulder.
“It's uh greg, you should know that by now.” Greg muttered before turning to you. “I’m sorry.” He smiled awkwardly and huffed as he walked away. 
“Thank you.” you sighed “I didn’t want to upset him.” You joked 
“Why not, it's not your ego that will be damaged.” He laughed 
“Oh Sherlock there you are dear.” Mrs hudson, your landlady, pulled on sherlocks arm intruding him to a gaggle of her friends who all cooed at the adorable detective they had seen on their Tv screens.
“He isn’t as tall as he looks on the telly.” One of them cackled. You watched as his body stiffened, he wasn’t enjoying this party at all, first he was losing his best friend and now he was being paraded around like a prized pony. You were becoming sick of the constant attempts so you did what any saviour would and returned the favour.
“Sherlock, do you fancy a cigarette, my treat as seen as you prevented a murder today.” Your hand gripped firmly on his hand pulling him away from the women. 
His body hummed at your touch, his wrist burned and his head fuzzed. He could feel his collar tightening and breathing staggering. Hold it together, he thought, don't be a child. “Silly boy brother, holding hands are we now.” Mycroft taunted his mind.
“Had to save you, I saw you roll your eyes at least three times.” You say as you both leaned against the cold brick wall, the venue was nice you’d admit and the countryside highlighted the night sky perfectly.
“You like stars?” He asked, watching you look up.
“I only admire how far away they are from people.” You laugh, you pull out a single cigarette from your purse and Sherlock hands you a lighter. “You know for someone who is supposed to be quitting smoking you sure do come prepared.” You say with one brow raised
“Some cases may require a lighter.” He says allowing you to take the first drag.
“Thanks for helping me back there, I wasn’t sure how to solve that problem.” Your thighs tightened as he leant against the wall exhaling a large drag of smoke, your tightened together. “Hold it together” you thought, you looked away, god you’re acting like a teenager.
“Personally I believe you were doing great, a few more minutes and i reckon you and him would have been on the dance floor.” He laugh sarcastically 
“Believe me you would not want to see that.” You took the cigarette from his hand, grazing his fingers with your own, it didn’t go unnoticed. 
“Im sure you’d do fine.” He tilted his head witb a smile
“Oh really, are you an expert?” You laughed 
“You don’t believe me?” He looked almost offended as he pushed himself off the wall. “I’ll show you.” 
“Go on then.” You encouraged him by crossing your arms together. He stepped in front of you and lifted his arms as if he was holding someone and did a perfect pirouette or as perfect as the gravel would allow. “Okay then i admit that was pretty good.” You laugh, he brushes off his jacket and takes the cigarette from your hand. 
“And now you.” He nodded
“You’re not serious. Are you?” You choke a little on your laughter 
“Am i ever one for fooling around?” Well shit, he was right. He took the last drag of the cigarette and threw it to the ground. “It’s easy, straight back, lift one leg and spin.” He gestured his hands outwards encouraged you to do it
“Fine but only because it's you.” You rolled your eyes. Your attempt was far from perfect, you held out your arms and tutted before spinning and tumbling, these dam shoes, you wanted to wear converse. You stumbled and Sherlock reached forward and pulled you into his broad chest. “See i told you. Not a dancer.”
“I can help then.” He smiled, pulling your arms up into the correct position. “You have to ease into it.” He pushed himself closer and your hearts touched, he began slow as you spun “keep your eyes onto your partner and then-“ you both performed and amature pirouetted before stopping, you stopped still clinging to his chest. “You see.” He gulped, rather loudly. “ all you need is the perfect partner.” You could both feel the force pulling you closer, his eyes were fixed on your lips. You leaned in and locked, he tasted like smoke and mild hints of champagne, it was sweet, your hand clung to his coat, you moaned into his mouth as his tongue crossed with yours. You pulled away to take a breath.
“Sorry uh something just came over me.” You laugh
“I'm not complaining. I’ve actually been thinking about that for a while.” He still held you close, he had you finally and he wasn’t about to let you go. He leaned in again, he kissed you and ran his hands down your body settling one on you ass, you flinched slightly.
“Sorry.” You blushed
“No, it's fine.” 
“Yeah I'm not really used to that.”
“What do you mean?” He asked
“Well, I’m a virgin. I never really got round to all that.” 
“That's okay sweetheart, I'm not going to judge.” His hand stroked your cheek. Hus words gave you a sense of boldness
“But, maybe we could change that.” You hand made it way through its curls 
“Be careful sweetheart, are you sure.”
“Positive.” You smiled kissing him again leaving a small bite on his lower lip
“Great” he pulled your hand through the doors towards the stairs. “Room?” He asked 
“304” you replied, taking the lead. It's not that you were desperate, but you’d been thinking about him in this way since the day you moved in, your stomach knotted and your core began to heat up in anticipation. You practically barged open the door of your room and he was on you in an instant pulling down your dress as you struggled with the buttons of his suit. 
You pulled his shirt apart revealing the olive skin of his chest, his scent intoxicated you. You ran your hand across his chest trembling at the intensity of his heart beat. 
Your hand burned his chest, his cock grew wild but he’d have to be patient. It was your first time and he wanted to make sure you’d remember it. He laid you down slowly tracing his lips down your neck and inbetween the crevice of your breast. Your soft moan encouraged him to go lower down your stomach twirling your hardened nipples with his fingers.
Your breath hitched as his fingers glided over your soaked core, he could feel your wetness through the thin fabric of your panties.
“Don't be nervous, i’ll be gentle. Need to get you ready. Tell me what you want sweetheart.” His eyes stayed locked on yours, you hadn’t seen this side if him before he was still the same determined sherlock holmes but part of him looked desperate, like he wanted you as much as you wanted him.
“You, I want you. Your hands, your body please.” You begged gasping slightly at the sensation of his finger pressing against your panties.
“Okay baby. Just breathe, it will feel good I promise.” He started by pulling down your underwear and livking his finger before sliding it through your folds, he smiled at the motion of your legs stiffening. He spread them apart with his free hand and then used his dextrose fingers to tap at your bundle of nerves. He took his other hand and slowly edged two fingers into you curling slightly to hit that perfect point. “Fuck you’re so tight, gotta loosen you up.”  He fucked you gently with his fingers looking at you occasionally, making sure what he was doing was right.
“Fuck- i, i wont be able to hold it much longer Sher-fuck.” Your head pushed back into the mattress and your back arched as he added another finger slightly picking up his pace. Your walls trembled as he brought you to your climax, it felt as if it burned all your nerve endings, a feeling you’d never be able to reach on your own. You winced slightly at the overstimulation of him pulling out his fingers and licking them clean.
“I always knew you’d taste sweet.” He chuckled and sat back on his knees relishing in the state he had left you toying with his uncomfortable hardness. You noticed and brought yourself to his lips again kissing him as you unbuckled his belt. It unked away and you discarded it somewhere in the room and dropped his trousers. Your hand dipped beneath the waistline of his boxers and he released a small sigh. You looked up at him with mildly worried eyes, he was so big, so thick. “Are you sure you know how to handle it?- shit!” His cockyness was soon displaced with his head falling backwards at the sensation of your lips around his cock. You swallowed as much as you could, trying to get used to his size. You bobbed your head up and down moaning as his hand came to rest in your hair, pushing your head gently further down. You swirled your tongue around his base as you swallowed him down. He pulled you off sighing at the sight of a line of spit connecting your mouth to his cock. “You gonna let me fuck that pretty little mouth of yours sweetheart?” He pushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear as you nodded. “Tell me how much you want it.” He said jerking himself 
“Fuck- i want it so bad, want you to fuck my mouth make me gag please.” You batted his hand away and took him in both your hands, he hissed at the sensation then edged you open your mouth. You stuck out your tongue allowing him to slide his tip across it. He pushed In further, slowly allowing him to get used to his size, you gagged and he wiped a tear that slid down your eye and slowly began thrusting his hips gently into your delicate mouth.  
“God, wanted this so long. Been watching you, you looked so good tonight. Hated watching other guys trying their luck. Gavin couldn’t do this to you.”
“Mh-Greg” you corrected him barely being audible by his size. He grunted and pushed harder.
“Don’t correct me, this is your first time, don’t wanna be too rough yet- shit.” He cursed as your hands snaked around his balls massaging them. “God gonna make me cum- fuck you wanna taste me?” Sherlocks pase became sloppy he held on waiting for you to nod and when he did the salty tastes of his thick ropes spewed into your throat. You hummed, gulping down every last drop. He pulled out, his stray loose curls sticking to his sweaty head. You leaned backwards smiling at the state he was in.
“Guess I'll never make it past base three.” You laughed a little disappointed. His eyes opened, they looked different, a smug smirk appeared on his face and his eyes grew darker.
“You think i'm done? Honey there's alot for you to learn.” He pushed you into the mattress and spread your legs with his knee, his hand came to your pussy and slid easily through your folds. “Sweetheart you got this wet just from sucking me off. You gonna let me fuck that cute little pussy of yours?” He smiled watching your eyes roll back
“Please Sherlock, I need you.” You looked up watching as he examined your body.
“Okay honey, gonna take this nice and slow, ease you into it.” He held his cock at your entrance sliding it through your folds. “If it doesn’t feel good, let me know and I'll stop.” He entered you slowly, you winced slightly as he entered, your walls stretching and getting used to his size and then he paused for a moment. “How's that feel? You feel good.”
“Its good, its just a new feeling. But it feels good. Can you move?” You ask with puppy dog eyes he laughs slightly and slowly thrusts his hips. It's a new feeling for you, the pain had melted away and was turning into pleasure. Your walls opened letting him in further, his pace was gentle. You could tell he was holding back, he didn’t want to hurt you or push you further than you could go. You hand found his cheek and his eyes locked with yours. “Go faster, show me how you want to make me feel good. I want you- I need you.”
“Are you sure, if it gets too much, tell me.” He kissed you again picking up the pace- now this was good the friction he pushed into your clit only added to the pleasure it didn’t hurt, it was great. He went in all the way to the hilt scraping his tip against your g-spot starting a chain reaction through your body.
“Fuck- thats- shit thats great.” Your eyes rolled back and his teeth nibbled at your neck leaving a small purple mark. The bed began to creak with his pace the sound of skin on skin adding to the room's heat and smell of sex. He rutted into you cursing and moaning your name, his hand found your clit flicking it with each thrust, watching as your legs widened giving him more space to fill. He pulled you closer, lifting up your hips. “Fuck that feels great, you moan.” 
“Does it? Here, try this.” He grabbed a pillow and put it under your lower back angling you just right, allowing him to reach your g-spot with ease. 
“Fuck- ye. Thats it fuck im gonna- shit i-!” You couldn’t speak, your orgasm pushed all the air from your lungs, your muscles twitched causing your hips to seize. He kept fucking you through your high chasing his own orgasm. 
“Fuck your so tight feels so good.” He moaned, biting your neck again, moaning as you tugged on his hair. His pace became staggered and he began to pull you in closer you knew he was close
“Fuck need your cum in me. It's okay, I'm on the pill. Shit need it. So bad.” You cried out, it's like he was waiting for you to say it, he finished with one last thrust holding you as close as possible. your walls were coated in his thick white ropes. He stayed in you a while peppering your face with light kisses “you where so good, fuck never had anyone like you.” He winced as he pulled out, the over stimulation getting the better of him. 
“Anyone in here? They’re about to cut the cake!” A voice came from the door along with loud hard knocks.
“I’ll be out in a sec.” You called out looking at sherlock. “I wish we could stay here forever.” You rolled onto him, resting you chest on his as you played with his curls.
“Then why don’t we?” He smiled along with a cheeky slap of your ass.
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A/N: hey guys sorry for my recent abscence work has been a factor in this issue the next chapter of thats not how I'd do it is commng probably soon, definately not disapointed that i can't do weekly uploads :( another thing is, something is comming that Im currently writing a preveiw for and i can't wait to share it. HOPE YOU ENJOYED SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG TO MAKE
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alienaiver · 8 months
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Rotisserie Chicken
Suna Rintarou x gn!reader
warnings: none! this is pure fluff wordcount: 1.2k content: fluff, SFW, genderneutral reader, bodypositive and poc friendly reader, domestic fluff, established relationship, post-timeskip, canon compliant, not beta'd, youre married and pretty handy in regards to like. building stuff LMAO, light humor and banter, no use of y/n, i googled rotisserie chicken a thousand times to make sure i spelled it correctly. it looks wrong no matter what i do
notes: this is part four of my domestic life with suna series! i should really make a masterpost actually. anyways, your 10 year old bed that you lovingly bought together at the start of the relationship is creaking; you fix it. suna has his thoughts and secrets are uncovered!
go to part 1, 2, 3 (but can be read as a stand-alone)
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Suna walks into your bedroom with a cold bottle of tea in his hand and his phone in the other, eyeing you for only a moment before throwing himself onto the recliner in the corner. You’ve been forced to take PTO days before they expire and so the recliner, dubbed the Laundry Chair, is actually available to sit on. Suna doesn’t hesitate.
Silently, he lifts his phone to stare into the screen again, making a point out of not commenting on your work. Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees you popping up from behind the bed frame to see if he’s looking at you. When he isn’t, you pop back down and fiddle with the screws. Profanities have been said because your small power drill hasn’t been charged over night like you planned yesterday (you forgot to turn on the outlet itself before joining Suna on the couch for a late night Netflix evening).
He knows that you’re hoping for an offer of his drink but he’s as stubborn as you are; you’re fully capable of asking, he reasons. You grumble out some more words before you turn to the next screw. He bites the bullet, “why, oh, why has the mattress been lifted from my perfectly functioning bed?”
The way your head rises up and your smile beaming has him rolling his eyes already, “I’m just tightening the screws. The creaking is making me insane.”
“Oh?” he says, unscrewing his bottle, “I find the clown bicycle honks kinda hot when you do your half-hourly rotating.”
You narrow your eyes but before you can speak he continues, “I wonder who would’ve been correct in saying that IKEA furniture that’s been disassembled before is shit. Who could’ve saved us the trouble?” He looks to the ceiling and around the room before his eyes lands directly on yours, “that’s right. Me.” he says dryly, challenging you with a raised eyebrow.
You snort before you turn back to your task at hand, the mattress balanced hazardously up against the walk-in closet that’s currently half-open. Not a dangerous thing at all, no, he observes to himself.
After a moment of silence you forego his scolding and ask, “what the hell do you mean half-hourly rotating? Who does that?”
He scrolls social media as he chuckles, "you. You do that. Like a little rotisserie chicken but instead it’s all natural, no electrical wires needed.”
The wide stare you give him is enough to make him crack a smile, eyes still theatrically trained on his screen. “Is that why I’m called rotisserie chicken on your fucking phone!?”
Bingo. Suna sits up straighter with as neutral a smile as possible, stretching his arms above him, “of course. Everyone knows I call you that.”
“Everyone!?” you shriek, completely forgetting about the screws that urgently needed tightening only a few short minutes ago. Suna groans from the stretch, “yeah, my boss ate it up.”
“Your boss? Who, the trainer? The physiotherapist?” you ask with a laugh spilling from your mouth; unbelieving but at the same time awed that Suna talks to someone about you. Those are useless details to share.
“No, the bald guy who sponsors the team. The one who loves hugging you when you stop by practice and matches.”
You make a grimace at the memory. He’s truly a kind, middle-aged man but he is very touchy-feel and while you don’t mind a hug once in a while even from acquaintances, it is shrewd how many he tries to squeeze in there. Then, you shake your head at your husband, “you’re unbelievable you know that, right?”
You pretend to throw the screwdriver in his direction and he mock-dodges to the left and wipes his brow in relief when he successfully avoids the sharp object, “what is unbelievable is the fact that we brought the bed from our first apartment to our house. I feel like we deserve something to go with the rest.”
You grunt as you reach a screw that no matter how much you tighten it, it seems to go loose. You realize it’s not even the same as the others on this metal… thingy. “Rin…” you say and it sounds like a warning. Suna’s muscles tightens for a moment, “why is this screw different from the rest?”
he gulps loudly. He’d forgotten about it; spent so long hoping you’d never notice (or that the bed wouldn’t fall apart underneath you) that it disappeared into the back of his mind. He gets up to take a look as if he can’t imagine the exact screw you’re fiddling with.
“Oh, that one,” he tries to say breezily, hoping casual will be the correct path to take. You look up at him when you realize that he knows something; he shoots a picture of you instead before he continues, “uh, we couldn’t find the screw so Atsumu just put that one in, saying it was the right girth.”
Your eyebrows shoot to your forehead in such a speed that Suna’s sad he didn’t capture it on video, spluttering out incomprehensible sounds that might’ve been words, accidentally spitting on the floor in your vigor. Probably something about different screws having different purposes. Then, you close your eyes and take a deep breath, “and why didn’t you just call for me? I was right downstairs when you and Osamu assembled the bed! Why did Atsumu suddenly help you?”
Suna avoids your gaze by looking pointedly out the window; snow was falling and staying. Winter would be cold this year.
“Suna Rintarou,” you say sharply and a shiver runs up his spine. You enjoy seeing the reaction. He deflates, “you were sitting with my nephew who’d gotten hurt. I didn’t want to… I didn’t want to disturb you.”
You warm at his confession. His nephew had gotten hurt, running around as family and friends were carrying furniture and boxes into the newly bought house; a box he’d been curious about had fallen over him. All it needed was a kiss and a band-aid and he’d been fine, but you had sat with him and sang until he calmed down. You even think you scolded the box together with him.
You shake your head, “well I guess this screw has been holding out. We’ll just continue using it then.”
Suna rolls his eyes, “why don’t we just buy a new bed?” the question makes you laugh, “we have one that works perfectly fine, don’t we? We even upgraded the mattress when you first got on the National team!”
Suna rolls his eyes, “next time the clown bike’s back, I’m buying us a new bed.”
You give him a thumbs up before you crawl out from the frame, “yeah, yeah. Now put the mattress back with me, will you?”
“Sure, Tjiken.” he says with a sly smile. It’s the nickname his niece once started calling you out of nowhere. Your eyes widen and mouth drops open in an ‘o’ shape as you realize.
“Is my cute, familial nickname a child abbreviation of the word chicken!?”
He can’t tell if you find it funny that his whole family’s calling you chicken, or if you’re slightly horrified. Personally, he’s amused that you’re finally learning the truth that’s been common knowledge among his family members.
He can’t wait to start his own family with you someday, hopefully soon. Then, he’d find an equally silly name and teach your child to call you that. His eyes twinkle with excitement at the thought that you might do it back, too.
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Ain't it fun? - marauders fanfic - no voldemort AU - chapter 1 (available on ao3 here)
Summer, 1978
James stepped out of the car - the four of them had decided to rent an old van while the girls had settled on, well, a normal car - and took a deep breath, stretching out his arms as though to embrace his surroundings. Feeling the mountain air clear and sharp, almost melting into the landscape. Yes, this vacation was most definitely one of Padfoot’s better ideas.
“It’s this tiny village in central Europe,” he had said, eyes aglow with passion. “The only full-time residents are these two old squib families, and most of the houses were built by muggles. Purebloods used to go there all the time, before France and skiing and shit like that got fashionable that is.” Remus had raised an eyebrow at that.
“A retreat for purebloods? Aren’t they going to be a problem?” Sirius shook his head.
“No, you don’t get it - no pureblood family has been there in like ten years.” He fiddled with the wand in his hand. “I’m friends with one of the families there, they haven’t had any visitors in ages - it’s absolutely perfect!” James and Peter had agreed, and it had only been a matter of time before they had convinced Lily, Marlene and Mary to join them. They made the necessary plans, paid for the cars and cottage (well, the Potters paid - they liked the idea of the boys getting out of the house and having fun together), and made the trip.
And now? Now they were here - James was standing in front of the small, muggle cottage, nestled between the mountains, miles from anyone who could possibly want anything from them, the closest house supposedly not for miles. Complete privacy. Freedom. Peace. He snapped himself out of his thoughts and went to help Remus with the trunks.
“I call dibs on the room with the balcony!” Mary shrieked down from the second floor. James chuckled. He had already chosen his room - the one with the east-side window, so he could watch the sunrise. 
“Go for it, bitch, mine and moony’s room is already the best!” Sirius shouted out from where he sat on the high table.
“You're sharing?” Peter asked, mouth already full with one of the puddings Effie had packed them.
“Obviously.” Sirius looked over at him. “Why wouldn't we?” Peter shrugged.
“Just curious is all.” He walked out of the kitchen and towards the stairs. “Try to keep it down though. I'm next door and I really don't want a repeat of Paris.” Moony choked on his tea, blushing slightly as Wormtail disappeared upstairs. Sirius groaned.
“Honestly, what is that guy's problem?” 
“Oh, don't be too hard on him Siri,” James smiled. “He’s just a bit lonely I think. We all feel it sometimes, when the two of you are so…”
“Gay?”
“In love.”
“Ah, that.” Sirius nodded solemnly. Remus shoved him.
“What I mean to say is, I get it. Worms hasn't had what you two have. Heck, I don't know anyone who has what you two do.”
“Oh come on, what about you and that ravenclaw girl in sixth year?” Remus pointed out. James shook his head.
“Verity was just a friend.”
“We caught the two of you in a wardrobe together.”
“A very close friend?” Padfoot laughed. James plastered on a grin. “It's fine lads, I'm not looking for anything serious right now.”
“That's valid.” Remus nodded. “Remember I'm here for you though. Your gay werewolf godmother, eh?”
“His WHAT?” Sirius asked, with an air of mock shock. 
“Just an inside joke pads,” James waved it off. Sirius gasped audibly, furthering the feign surprise.
“Oh, so now the two of you have jokes together??” He shook his head. “I see how it is.”
“How what is, love?” Remus asked with a creeping smile.
“Well isn't it obvious?” Sirius sighed dramatically. “You're cheating on me with Prongsie!” James burst out laughing, and Remus and Sirius joined in soon later.
“Alright, I'll catch you guys in a bit.” James said, turning towards the exit. “Got to go on my afternoon run, you know how it is.”
“Of course.” Sirius nodded solemnly. “Got to keep up that quidditch physique, eh? Now that we won't have it in school.”
“Still can't wrap my head around that yet.” James shook his head, tying up his trainers and opening the front door. “See you guys later?” Remus waved him off. James stepped out into the warm summer air.
James let himself breathe properly again. The steady rhythm of his feet hitting the asphalt road like a metronome, keeping him tethered to his body, keeping him centred. Keeping him safe.
It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy being with his friends, that absolutely wasn’t the case - not at all. He loved being with them, if he didn’t he wouldn’t have come on this trip. It was just… well. He couldn’t properly explain it, not even to himself. It seemed, sometimes, as though he was an actor. Yes, that was a good way to explain it. An actor - and each setting that he inserted himself into, he donned a new character, a new persona to be, someone that could always put others at ease. He was only fully himself here - on his runs, alone. It was only here that he could properly breathe.
James kept running. After a short while, his breathing levelled with his pace, and the pain passed him by - this was his favourite moment of every run - and running became as natural as breathing, laughing, falling in love… James shook the last thought off. Now wasn’t the time to think, to wonder why he didn’t find anyone he’d want to spend his life with, why he felt so terribly alone. Now wasn’t the time for that. Now he was supposed to run.
The place that Sirius had chosen for their summer trip this year was undoubtedly beautiful, James had to give him that. The sky was a dazzling blue, brighter than anything Godric Hollow had to offer, the roads well cared for, and the mountains themselves - beautiful. Covered in evergreen trees, with the odd oak or maple spotted somewhere in between, framing the horizon beautifully. James had hopes to climb one of them one day. A swallow flew just above his head, a little river trickled by the side of the road. It was truly beautiful.
And then - James saw another beautiful thing. A person. A person in front of a cottage, one eerily similar to theirs - the balcony was on the other side though. Not the same. A person sitting on the boot of a car, smoking a cigarette, that the person balanced so gently and gracefully between their fingers, it could be an art form. A person with wavy, black hair that surrounded their face like a crown or a dark halo, a stark contrast to their smooth, perfectly pale skin. And behind that halo, James saw a flicker of green eyes - like emeralds, glowing and full of life. He tripped on a rock and stopped abruptly, awoken from his fascination by the sensation of gravel brushing on his face. 
The person walked towards his body, sprawled across the road, as James slowly picked himself up. The person threw an ounce of shade onto James with his own frame, and he didn’t want to leave it. Or at least, he didn’t until he heard the person speak.
“Potter?” Regulus Black’s silky voice moved through the air towards the other boy’s ears, both of them full of surprise and confusion. “What are you doing here?” James sprung up quickly and dusted himself off. A voice he only recognised from overhearing conversations between him and Sirius, a face he never properly had the chance to look at. He took that chance now - taking in every detail. He looked so similar to Sirius - and yet, so different. So much… softer.
“Reggie?” James blinked confusedly. 
“That’s me.” Regulus crossed his arms across his chest. “Are you going to answer the question?”
“Reg!” Barty’s voice flowed through the air, followed by his body as he left the cottage. “What’s been holding you…” he looked at James. “Oh. What are you doing here?”
“Sorry to bother.” James rubbed the back of his neck. “I just… went out on a run. We’re staying in a cottage pretty similar to this one, just up the road.”
“Who’s we?” Barty inquired. Regulus stayed silent.
“Well me, Sirius, Remus, Peter,” James started. “And then also Mary, Lily and Marlene.”
“Wow.” Barty shook his head. “All of Gryffindor Tower, eh?”
“Not all of us.” He smiled awkwardly. “Just some friends.” He nodded over at the cottage. “What about you two? Is it just you?” Regulus shook his head.
“It’s me, Barty, Evan, Pandora and Dorcas.” Regulus said. “Just the five of us.”
“Oh.” James nodded. “You should… uh… come over some time. For a barbeque or something of the kind. If you’d like to, of course.”
“I thought you hated Slytherins.” Regulus tilted his head. James felt a drop of sweat roll down his neck.
“Oh no, not at all.” he shook his head. “No, I just like beating you up in quidditch, is all.” That earned a slight chuckle from Regulus. James feared that his heart might explode.
“We’ll consider it.” Barty said, turning to Regulus. “Come on then, we’ve got trunks to unpack.”
“Bye then.” James waved at the two of them as they walked into the cottage, Regulus closing the door behind them. Just one more second of eye contact - of those beautiful green eyes gazing into his own. He was once more alone on the road. He looked back at his track, and kept running.
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i-smoke-chapstick · 5 months
Text
'DON'T BLAME ME, [PART TEN]
-GOTHAM!JERVIS TETCH X READER-
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⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; Reader remembers why Jervis captivates her. Jervis remembers why he has a soft spot for her.
⋆ tags/warnings. GOTHAM!jervis x female reader. SLOW BURN!!! Not sure how many chapters this will be yet! LOTS OF PLOT SET-UP!! AGE GAP ROMANCE! (reader is Jim and Barbara's daughter) Jervis being a horrible teacher. The slow burn is slow burning. She fell first, he fell harder. (Guys, he's falling harder!!!) Soft Jervis. Jim and Barbara are probably tweaking out somewhere. Writing this kind of artistically and as character studies for everyone. Why are they in there friends to lovers era rn. I'm taking canon out back and beating it with a stick until it stops twitching.
⋆ tag list (tell me if you want to be removed!) @adalwolfgang @jervis-tetch-my-beloved @honestmrdual @moonlightnyx @all-things-fandomstuck @killingboredom @sweetlimeharvest @frenchfryqueen69
⋆ 'PART ONE, - 'PART TWO, - 'PART THREE, - 'PART FOUR, - 'PART FIVE, - 'PART SIX, - 'PART SEVEN' - 'PART EIGHT, - 'PART NINE, - 'PART TEN, - 'PART ELEVEN, - 'PART TWELVE, - 'PART THIRTEEN, - 'PART FOURTEEN,
♫ “Baby, am I your little secret? I'm old enough to keep it.” Older by Isabel LaRosa
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You're not sure when you two fell asleep, or if Jervis even did.
He still needed to wash the cuts and warm water helps the ache. You watched him settle himself into the bath water, or rather, turned around and covered your eyes for his privacy. You couldn't see the absolutely flustered expression on his face.
Ever since his hypnotism, your wound has only been mildly painful, every now and then twisting. Turns out, Mr. Tetch's hypnotism is a much better alternative then pain killers. He seems to detest the idea of you putting any drug in your body. Weird.
You settled yourself into a guest bedroom in the mansion, becoming familiar to your new surroundings. It looks more like a nursery for rich people. You weren't entirely sure how long you were going to stay with Mr. Tetch. This could take months.
You were going to learn hypnotism, from the guy who tried to kill your dad, to kill your dad. Huh.
Well, that's not exactly true. You don't know if you want to kill him. You just need him to hurt in the same way you hurt.
That idea puts you calmly to sleep.
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You wake up the latest you've woken up in years. Typically your dad would wake you up at an ungodly hour, and you're not sure Barbara even has a bedroom for you to stay in. She falls asleep at her desk in the club half the time.
It reads 11:00 AM on the clock next to you. Damn. Mr. Tetch let you sleep in.
You look at your clothes to find the hospital gown still on you. You must've forget to change last night. There was...a lot to deal with.
You rummage through the drawers and closet. For a guest bedroom, it's got a wild selection of clothes. All female. All petite. An old teenage daughter of the couple must've abandoned this room. You're thanking your lucky stars. It's perfect.
Discarding the hospital gown, you scan through the garments. Pink shirts, jeans, rings and necklaces. You pause when you see it.
In all it's glory, hangs a baby blue dress. Mysteriously lolita-esque, white lace decorating the sweetheart neckline. You want to laugh. The irony. Mr. Tetch does remind you of the Mad Hatter. Alice and her dress....
You sigh as you put it on with a pair of thigh highs. It's too good not too, and provoking Mr. Tetch seems to be your favorite past time as of late.
Coming down the stairs, you smell the sweet scent of pastries and tea. Is he...cooking? He never stops being interesting.
"Another tea party?" You question, stepping into the kitchen. "The last one didn't end too well for me."
You watch as he turns to look at you. At first he goes to sneer at the jab, before he fully intakes your image.
He stands rooted in the ground, staggered, and utterly taken aback. You hear the sharp and small exhale of breath he releases. His eyes scan you over, widened, and his mouth gets dry underneath your gaze.
He looks at you with complete and total fascination. You feel your own breath catch and your cheeks burn. You can't but feel satisfied at startling the showman time and time again. The way he looks at you now is different though. Like he was just reminded of a part of him he didn't know was missing. Like he just found it again.
The timer of the oven breaks your silence. You avert your gaze from his, but he doesn't. He keeps his eyes firmly on you. You start to feel your body heat up.
"Those are going to burn." You say, swallowing, looking at the biscuits. He blinks at you, expression soft. He cocks his head, and without a word, turns back around. You sit down at the dining table.
As the timer beeps, he takes out the biscuits, perfectly golden brown. It takes him a moment before he takes his seat parallel to you. He's silent for a moment, just studying you. His voice comes out in a shaky breath.
"You look...magnificent, I must say." He clears his throat, complimenting you.
"You don't look so bad yourself, showman." You whisper, sending him a smirk. There it is. That jolt of electricity from his eyes on you. The same feeling of seeing him for the first time in the club. Before it all went to shit.
It's not so bad though. You think. It could be a lot worse. At least It's Mr. Tetch and not some other insane freak in Gotham. Mr. Tetch is gentlemanly. He's...nice. When he isn't trying to kill you or your father, or taunting you into oblivion.
He offers you a smile at your own compliment. You see his entire face beam. His voice is soft, yet sharp when needed. He seems to be more sincere, genuine. For the first time, you see the real him. Not the charismatic exterior. He's like a puppy, wagging his tail at your praise. He leans back in his chair.
"Hypnotize me." He says, bluntly. You almost choke.
"What? How?"
He pulls out his oh-so-very-precious pocket watch, and his gloved hand gives it to you with care. You marvel at the item.
He leans forward slightly and watches you take the pocket watch, his eyes sparkling with intrigue. He's enjoying this. A LOT. He crosses his arms and waits patiently for you to continue.
You rack your brain for what to say. You think about what Mr. Tetch says. Okay. Okay. Okay. You got this.
"Look into my eyes. Not above them, not around them, but deep into their center." You try to repeat his exact words back to him, watching as his eyes never stray from yours.
You want to utter another command, but you can't get the words off your tongue. The two of you just stare at each other in silence, letting the light from the blinds peak in. You hear yourself breathing, and see that shit-eating smirk of his on his face. You feel mutually scrutinized...and aroused.
Aroused? No. You can't be aroused. This guy shot you. All this is, it's just fascination! And a partnership for revenge!
Still, that jolt of electricity only grows. You notice the way his lip curls, and he notices the way your big, almost innocent eyes look up at him.
"Mr. Tetch..." You murmur the name out beside yourself. At this, his eyebrows furrow, voice still soft.
"...Yes?" His head cocks, awaiting your command.
"Are you hypnotized?" You ask, and at this, he lets out a chuckle.
"No, dear. And, if I may, that was truly a ghastly attempt."
Ah, and he's ruined the moment.
You groan into your hands as he chuckles, smug.
"Do not fret, my dear. Do you recall when I hypnotized your father? He was truly a bawling mess, wanting nothing more than to end his miserable life." His tone is gentle, and he speaks the words so casually, but there's left over venom in his voice.
"What's your point?" The volume to your voice raises. You don't want to be reminded of your fathers oversights right now.
"My point, Y/N," He clicks his tongue at your hostility, "Is that hypnotism is something intimate. It allows you to reach the deepest, darkest depths of a man."
"You want me to reach the deepest, darkest depths of you?" You ask, raising an eyebrow with a bit of a smirk. He sputters.
"No! That's- that's certainly not what I meant!" He sends you an expression of disapproval, like a teacher scolding a child for telling a joke during class. But his face is just as red as yours was earlier. He huffs. "You need to feel that intimacy. That darkness. Channel it."
You listen to his notes intently. There truly is something about him that's startingly perfect. You can't quite place your finger on it. But you notice how his smiles seem to be less saccharine, more genuine. You notice how his eyes never quite leave yours, or how your hands fidget under the table.
There were many hypnotism attempts that day. Most of them just ended in staring contests.
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Ridin’ The Waves 🏄‍♀️ | Javy “Coyote” Machado Imagine
Takes place before, during and after the events of TGM
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TGM masterlist
Characters & Pairings: Javy “Coyote” Machado x pro surfer!reader (romantic), dagger squad (platonic)
Content Warnings: fluff, profanity, pop culture references, details of the 2020 Tokyo Olympics | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 9.1k
Requested 📨 yes/no (for @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby)
Premise: From the moment she could walk Y/n L/n belonged to the sea. Riding the waves that started as a hobby, only to lead her to the world’s greatest sporting stage. It would take time before her dream of Olympic Gold would happen as surfing had yet to be recognized by the IOC. But in her pursuit of becoming the greatest female surfer of all time, Y/n found who she believed was the closest person to paradise.
Note: I gotta say writing athlete/Olympian!reader imagines with the dagger squad are truly some of my favorite. Gosh I cannot wait for next year because that means…..2024 Olympics 👀 Guys I’m almost done with my semester! I have less than two weeks and all i have left to do is a paper and final project !! Almost to the finish thank goodness and then I move in with my friend before starting my summer job! Hope y’all enjoyed this work and let me know what you think!
Be sure to watch the video I linked during the Rock’s segment. I didn’t make it up it actually was a segment during the opening ceremonies on NBC’s coverage.
————————
“Is this heaven?” He laid on the surfboard beside her, feet in the water with the warmth of the sun hit his back. A cool breeze was starting to set in as the most beautiful sunset was before him, painting the sky an endless murrel of pink and orange. Only the subtle echo of the low tide filled his ears. Javy pressed his cheek onto the board, finding her smile which made his own appear at her words.
“More like paradise.”
Everyone had their own definition of paradise. Maybe it was the quiet plains of Montana or the mountains of Appalachia. Maybe it was strolling down the streets of Paris with the Eiffel Tower in the distance. Rain pouring down on New York City with a steaming cup of tea in hand or driving down the Pacific Coast Highway with “California Love” blasting through the radio. Reading a book by the fire next to their soulmate, dancing with strangers at a concert. Ask anyone what they viewed as their own personal paradise and the responses will vary.
Y/n L/n felt she was in paradise almost everyday of her life. Waking up to the view of the ocean while birds flew overhead. Feet hitting the sand as she ran to the waters with her board, anxiously waiting to ride the waves. Salt water coating skin and hair, sun beaming down.
Paradise.
From the moment she could walk the beach became her second home. Having grown up on the island of O’ahu Y/n learned how to surf before riding a bike. Her parents surfed. As did her siblings. Getting an instructor wasn’t needed with a family who knew everything there was about the art of surfing. Y/n received her first board at age four, and from then on her life was devoted to the water. Owning more swimsuits than t-shirts and shorts by the time she reached fifth grade.
She was a natural at best. Always predicting when and where the best waves would be. Timing the push up so perfect others—even her family—were unable to keep up.
“C’mon, leave some for the rest of us,” her brother would groan, missing a wave due to her swooping in at the last second. Y/n only laughed in return.
“Gotta be faster than that.”
Her parents, surfers themselves, were basically her coaches. On weekends they were waking her up at the crack of dawn, breakfast on the counter and telling her to be on the beach when she was done. Then of course she had to apply sunscreen, the substance coating every inch of her skin. Once on the beach a thirty minute run and stretching was mandatory before she could get in the water.
Skipping such a step would have her sore all night.
“We’re gonna work on your 360, cutback, and tube ride before finishing the day with cleaning up your alley oop.”
“If I don’t make a lot of mistakes can we watch Lilo & Stitch after dinner?”
“Yes, that is a fair deal.”
Mistakes? What are those? Mistakes weren’t in Y/n’s nature and if they occurred it was a rare sighting. Only time Y/n ever did mess up on a maneuver was when she was first learning it. Once she had it down it was impossible to lose.
All the friends she made loved going to the beaches after school and on weekends—getting all their homework done during the school hours so their entire afternoon was free. They signed up for competitions together, Y/n entering her first at age 14 for the 2004 Juniors season after competitions in regionals since age 11. “You’re gonna win the comp, Y/n.”
“Oh stop playing,” she brushed her best friend off, only to hear the murmurs of agreement from the rest of the group.
“I’m serious! You catch the best waves and ride them perfectly. Those judges are gonna be amazed on Saturday—I bet you’ll even get a sponsor.”
Her best friend was right. Not only did Rip Curl—THE Rip Curl want Y/n to be the face of their new campaign, but the surfing world would know her name for generations to come.
“Welcome back to our coverage of the 2004 ISA World Junior Surf Championship here in beautiful O’ahu, Hawaii here on ESPN. We’re dwindling down on the final competition with the defending champion from last year's event, sixteen-year-old Carolina Kanoa, and newcomer, Y/n L/n. If you’ve been watching the competition then you know all eyes have been on the fourteen-year-old native of Kapolei here on O’ahu, who scored the highest in her heats and received all tens in the quarterfinals after a perfect run.”
“It was quite the sight, Tom. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so effortless in this competition. Y/n’s delivered a captivating performance each wave she’s catched—always getting the first one in her heats and pulling out a big score putting her high on the leaderboard. I wouldn’t be surprised if we see her on top of the podium today.”
“For anyone watching at home who are new to surfing or just want a little refresh on the scoring system, here is how it works: a panel of five judges determine a score one through ten, ten being the best, for each surfer on their wave based on degree of difficulty, innovative maneuvers, combination of major maneuvers, the variety of said maneuvers, and the speed, power, and flow. The highest and lowest score are thrown out leaving the remaining three, which are then averaged out. Now a surfer can catch as many waves as they please but only the two highest scoring waves will be added together to give the total score for that heat. From there competitors are eliminated until there are two finalists.”
Treading water, Y/n paid close attention to the scene in front of her. With only three minutes left on the clock, she was one wave away from crowning herself the Junior World Champion.
“Give me a sign,” she breathed in the salty air. Her thoughts were answered seconds later by a chill running down her neck, gaze snapping to the left where she saw the water draw back. Springing into action, Y/n paddled towards the forming wave, timing it at the perfect moment to end the competition on a bang. She heard the crowd cheer when she stood up, increasing each maneuver she did until finally riding out the end of the wave right as the bullhorn sounded.
Her heart pounded, “Did I just win?” Damn sure she did. Nothing could describe the feeling of holding the championship trophy at the top of the podium. And what made it ten times better, an ambassador of Rip Curl offered her a sponsorship. Before long Y/n’s name and face were plastered across all their campaigns. After winning the ISA Junior World Championships three years in a row—making her a household name in surfing—Y/n went on to senior international competitions. From there her glory only skyrocketed.
ISA World Surfing Games, World Surf League, Rip Curl Pro, Big Wave Tour, Vans Triple Crown of Surfing. Y/n’s little shelf of trophies turned into a full length china cabinet. Traveling back and forth from O’ahu to America. Sometimes even going to South America and Japan for international comps. By age 19 she had created her own maneuver earning her even more attention due to the level of difficulty.
“I don’t see what the fuss is about?” She chewed on a piece of spam, leaning her elbows on the kitchen counter. “All I did was add a couple of extra spins on my aerial.” Her mother gave her a bewildered look.
“That move in itself is difficult, Y/n. Not many perform it in competition and the fact you successfully landed one—with your little spoof nonetheless, people are gonna be amazed.”
“Well, I guess I just got lucky.”
Following high school Y/n turned professional and moved to Honolulu to attend the University of Hawai’i at Mānoa where she studied sports management with a minor in sports science. A family friend had an old Volkswagen Type 2 and Y/n was happy to take it off their hands, fixing it up to have the perfect beach van. Once classes were done for the day Y/n was packing it up with her board, cooler, boombox, and her closest friends.
“You sure this thing isn’t gonna break down on us?”
“Don’t insult Sandy. She’s as good as new,” okay that was a stretch, the van was literally 60 years old, “and I filled her up on gas this morning so we shouldn’t find ourselves on the side of the road.”
“Thanks for the confidence, Y/n. Much appreciated.”
It wasn’t uncommon for people to recognize her on campus. Having generated a public image in surfing—which many of her peers were also involved in—meant she was bound to hear, “Hey, you’re Y/n L/n?” “Oh my gosh I’ve been watching you compete since you were a junior competitor.” “Congrats on winning the Pro this year.”
There were times professors kindly asked, “Can you sign this for my kid? They’ve been into surfing lately and you’re their favorite athlete.” Taking photos with supporters happened occasionally as did giving advice to those wanting to get into surfing. It was a nice feeling for the woman to be able to inspire people and share the sport she loved.
Expanding the art of surfing to the world.
Four years of college seemed to fly by fast. Y/n was surprised she managed to pull through with a 3.6 GPA and graduate Cum Laude with everything in her life. A lot of the competitions were during the school year so Y/n had lots of work on her plate—thankfully some instructors were reasonable and allowed her to get an advance on the material. But she completed her degree with immense relief, aiming to get a career in sports going either by becoming a trainer or manager following her retirement from surfing.
“Y/n, It’s so great to see you again this year at the World Surf League World Championship. You recently graduated from the University of Hawai’i, you’re set to compete in today’s finals to defend your title—how many would this be for you? Number seven?”
Y/n chuckled with the reporter, brushing away a stray piece of hair. “Lucky number seven, yes. I’m so happy and grateful to be competing today—excited to hit the water and try to catch the best waves possible. Regardless of the outcome today I’m just really happy to be here again. I always look forward to this time of year—being able to compete and after working so hard in school this last semester, it’s definitely a relief to not have to worry about finishing a paper last minute once this comp ends.”
“There’s been recent talk of surfing possibly becoming an Olympic sport after much demand following the London Games this year. What are your thoughts? Do you think it’ll be featured in Rio and if so are you going to try and make the team?”
Since becoming a professional sport in 1959 following the first West Coast Surfing Championship in Huntington Beach, California, surfing had yet to reach the greatest sporting stage. The Olympic Games. Held every four years where thousands of athletes from around the globe come together to compete for the chance at gold. Duke Kahanamoku, the father of modern surfing and three-time Olympic freestyle swimming champion having won gold at the 1912 and 1920 Games respectively, first advocated the sport to be in the Olympics back in 1920. Had it not been for him, surfing may not have become as popular in the world as it was.
When it came to the Olympics, Y/n loved sitting by the tv to watch Team USA. Witnessing historic moments and record breaking finishes she was in awe of every athlete who came across the screen. Swimming, diving, track, gymnastics, soccer. So many sports events in a single fortnight. She hoped surfing would become an official sport in the Games. For she too had dreams of an Olympic gold around her neck.
Pausing for a moment, Y/n smiled at the thought of her becoming an Olympic Champion, “I think a lot of us can agree that we’d like to see surfing become part of the Olympic family. It’s one of the oldest sports and has its own professional circuit for decades now—I mean we’ve got people here today from Japan, Italy, El Salvador and Australia. Why not include it? And you can definitely expect me to be training the moment it is.”
It would be four years before Y/n could make do with that promise. On August 3, 2016, two days prior to the opening ceremonies of the Games of the XXXI Olympiad, the IOC announced surfing would finally be an Olympic sport.
“Exciting news for the surfing world,” the headline appeared on the screen of ESPN’s afternoon coverage, “the International Olympic Committee has just confirmed the sport will be introduced for the first time in its history at the Tokyo Olympics taking place in 2020–marking 100 years since surfing legend Duke Kahanamoku first started advocating for it to be featured. Professional surfing isn’t new to international competition having debuted at Huntington Beach, California in 1959. Since then there’s been several meets featuring surfers from all over the world—the most recent being the 2016 Rip Curl Pro where ten-time World Surf League champion Y/n L/n claimed the title once again for the fifth time since her senior international debut in 2007. L/n is just one of many professional surfers who’ve advocated for surfing to be in the Olympics over the years and expressed interest in competing for a chance at gold. With the confirmation by the IOC this morning, I’d say we’ll be seeing her at the trials in four years.”
The morning after the announcement Y/n headed to the beach to find her father propping her board into the sound. “So four years, huh?” Y/n crossed her arms over her chest, feeling the wind breeze past them.
“Seems like a long way, but it’ll be around the corner before we know it.”
“We better get started then.”
Morning, afternoon, evening. Every day Y/n was on the water catching waves left and right. Perfecting maneuvers, getting air in her aerials. When taking breaks she’d go on runs and to the gym. She still participated in yearly competitions and surfed with her friends, but her training habits became more intense as she prepped for Tokyo. When she wasn’t sleeping, eating, or competing she was on the water.
By 2019 Y/n had accumulated the most titles won by a female surfer with ten ISA World Surfing Games—formerly the World Surfing Championships, ten Rip Curl Pro trophies, five QuickSilver pro Gold Coast, five-time triple crown winner, and the 2016 champion of The Eddie Aikua Big Wave International. Winning The Eddie and becoming the first woman in history to do so after the event returned from a seven-year hiatus had Y/n on the front page of several sports magazines around the world. It was a huge accomplishment. Pushing Y/n as the favorite to win gold in Tokyo.
Towards the later end of the year, October in fact, Y/n found herself on the sunny beaches of San Diego, California. August to November were the best months to surf in the area, being it was late summer going into fall where the heat wasn’t excruciating. Still one had to wear a wetsuit to even touch the water.
Y/n was in town to visit an old friend from college and to help the Pacific Beach Surf Club with their beach cleanups and participate in a charity competition. Having traveled in San Diego a few times she was no stranger to the club and welcomed with open arms. Volunteering in their cleanups was the least she could do to prepare the beach for the charity event.
When they finished they all changed out of their clothes into wetsuits, wasting no time to hit the waves. “Hey!” Her friend yelled from where she was treading water, tone teasing, “be sure to leave some for the rest of us, yeah?” Y/n threw her head back in laughter.
“I make no promises!”
Anytime Y/n surfed out of training or competition she felt so free. No pressure to be perfect. No shouting from her father. No commentary from the sportscasters or questions from reporters. Only her, her board, and the beautiful sea.
She cheered on her friend and the people in their cleanup group when they caught waves. Complimenting them whenever they did a cool trick. In return they whistled and hollered for her. They soon developed an audience from the shore. Children and adults alike stop to watch them in awe. Instantly drawn to Y/n who glided effortlessly, guiding her board into a tube ride.
Unbeknownst to the surfer, a group of navy pilots had stopped their game of dogfight football to observe the show.
Jake whistled, “Damn she’s good.” Mickey agreed.
“I don’t think I’ve seen someone surf like that. She’s a natural.”
“Probably has been doing it for years,” Bradley commented, fixing his aviators. Natasha and Bob hummed in agreement.
“I think I’m in love,” Javy breathed out, simply in awe of what he was witnessing. The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen showcasing talent on a board he could only dream of possessing.
He wondered what her laugh sounded like, seeing her head tilt back at something her friend said. Even from the distance her smile was breathtaking. Hair pulled back into a tight bun, body adored in a wetsuit to combat the cool water. A cheeky smirk thrown at her peers when she started paddling toward a forming wave. Standing on the board like a pro and making all kinds of turns and tricks Javy knew he’d wipe out the second he attempted them. Speaking of wiping out, she hadn’t done it once.
Jake nudging him from the side snapped him out of his daydream, “Go talk to her.” At the nod of his head, Javy realized she was running across the sand, stopping when she got to an area of coolers, towels, and backpacks.
“No!” He hissed, eyes reading, ‘are you crazy?’
“Why not? Just go up and start complimenting her. Ask her how long she’s been surfing. That’ll start a conversation.”
Javy scoffed, “Easy for you to say, Mr. Ken Barbie Doll who doesn’t need a confidence boost when talking to women.” Jake went to rebuttals but the sound of Reuben coughing stopped him.
“Uh guys….” He lifted a finger, their gazes following to find a family of four approaching the young woman. They couldn’t hear what was being said, but seeing her take a notepad from the little girl before scribbling in what appeared to be an autograph followed by the father snapping a photo with his phone, it was enough to conclude she was someone.
“Are…is she signing autographs?” Javy wondered aloud. He watched her sign the little boy's boogie board, posing for a photo with him before kneeling down to be on both the children’s level and smile for the camera. Hell even the parents wanted a photo, one of her friends coming over to hold the phone while they positioned themselves on either side. Then finally the whole family had a group one, saying their goodbyes and thank you’s to the woman who waved as they left.
“So she’s kinda famous,” Bradley said the obvious, everyone in a daze. Probably trying to figure out who the woman was, as none had recognized her as an actress or singer.
While they were busy investigating, Y/n unzipped her wetsuit leaving her bikini underneath and pulled on shorts with a graphic t-shirt overtop. “What are you guys doing after this?”
“We’re gonna grab some drinks at The Hard Deck. You down?”
“The Hard Deck?” She repeated with a tilt of the head. Never had she heard of the place.
“It’s that bar over there,” Y/n turned to the direction her friend was nodding at, eyes landing on a building not far from where they stood. “Great vibes, but I must warn ya it’s always filled with Navy fellas.” Y/n perked up slightly. Having lived on O’ahu all her life she was familiar with Navy personnel. After all, Pearl Harbor was located just on the coast of the island.
“Really?”
“Yeah, Miramar is not too far from here. It’s where the pilots train so expect to see some in flight suits.”
At around 6 the group packed it up and headed for the bar. Upon entry Y/n saw exactly what her friend had warned. The place was buzzing. Servicemen and women on every corner, music blasting from the jukebox. They approached the bar top to order a round of beers before settling over by the high top tables, splitting the group up since there were about eight of them.
“Check it out, Machado,” Payback clapped his friend’s back, making him turn to where his attention was. Javy’s eyes widened upon seeing the surfer.
“Did they just get here?”
“Looked like it. You should talk to her—especially since this is the second sighting in mere hours.” The pilot rolled his eyes.
“I don’t wanna come off as a creep, Fitch. What am I supposed to say ‘Hey, sorry if this is weird but I saw you surfing earlier—can I buy you a drink?’ She might throw me to the sharks.”
Natasha shook her head, “men.” A moment later Penny arrived with a tray of beers, placing them down on the seat beside Bob where the guys were shooting pool, “delivery for my favorite dagger squad.”
Thanks were sent her way followed by Jake asking, “Say Pen, you know those guys?” The bartender glanced over her shoulder to see who he was referring to, nodding with a smile.
“Oh that’s some members of the Pacific Beach Surf Club. They were cleaning up the beach earlier for tomorrow's charity competition. Expect the place to be packed if you drop by, it’s always a madhouse. This year they’ve got some of the best surfers participating.”
“Do you know if she’s one of them,” Javy tried to act cool when pointing out the woman.
Upon Penny’s smirk, the answer was clear, “Unless my eyes are deceiving me, I believe that’s ten-time world surfing champion Y/n L/n.”
“Ten?!” Mickey repeated, “Holy shit.” Around him the others were matching his expression. Javy immediately grabbed his phone to type in the name. Sure enough the image of the woman seated at the table appeared on his screen. Clicking on the Wikipedia page he started to read aloud for the group the opening paragraph.
“Y/n M/n L/n, born y/b/m yb/d, 1990 is an American professional surfer from Kapolei, O’ahu, Hawaii and a ten-time World Surf League Women’s World champion, the most titles won by any female surfer to date. L/n made her debut at the World Surf League Junior Championships at age 14 in 2004 in her native O’ahu, winning three consecutive times before turning to senior international competition where she’s won a total of forty world titles—including becoming a five-time triple crown winner. As of 2016, L/n is the defending champion and first women to win the Eddie Aikau Big Wave Invitational. She is set to compete at the first ever U.S Olympic Trials in hopes of making the Tokyo Olympic Team where surfing will make its debut at the Olympics.”
“Well I’ll be damned,” Jake peered over Javy’s shoulder, watching him scroll down to view Y/n’s career statistics. Mickey appeared on the opposite side, whistling under his breath. Natasha took out her own phone to search herself, Bradley, Bob, and Payback all glancing over to see.
“She’s literally called the greatest surfer of this generation,” Bradley pointed out. “Talk about intimidating.”
“Now you gotta buy her a drink, Machado,” Payback concluded, igniting another glare from his friend. “Say you pulled an Olympian.”
“I’ll take it to her,” Penny offered, and before Javy could stop her the woman was back behind the bar. They watched her take a Corona from the cooler, add a lime and proceed to the table the athlete was at. “From the gentlemen by the pool tables,” Penny smiled at Y/n, nodding to the group, “the one the blonde is pointing at.” Turning her head, Y/n saw the guy in question pushing his friend’s hand down, a reddish hue on his cheeks when they made eye contact followed by a wave.
‘Well hello there,’ she thought, smiling at the handsome man. He was in a pair of basketball shorts and t-shirt reading NAVY in bold letters. The group he was with all scattered to make it look like they weren’t eavesdropping when Y/n approached, Corona in hand, “Hi.”
“Hello,” even his voice was attractive. Everything about him was. From his clear smooth skin to his dazzling smile. Toned arms and legs.
“Thanks for the beer.”
“Anytime,” he tipped the one in his hand, Y/n clicking hers against it. “Sorry if this is weird at all. I saw you surfing earlier and was trying to muster up the courage to come talk to you….but couldn’t find the words to say.”
Y/n smirked, gesturing to an empty pool table, “how about a game? Maybe it’ll help loosen your nerves.” Moving to a cue Y/n sees his grin widen, “I’m Y/n by the way.”
“I’m Javy, but you can call me Coyote.”
“Coyote?” She repeats with a chuckle, “That’s an interesting nickname.”
“Callsign actually,” he politely corrects before explaining he was a naval aviator. Grabbing his own cue while she sets up the rack, he added, “Wasn’t my doing.”
“Then how’d you get it?”
“Um…” he made a face, as though he was embarrassed to say. “I’ll tell you if you win this match.” A sound between a scoff and a laugh escaped her.
“So that’s how it’s gonna be.” Javy raises his hands in defense, laughing with her. “And if you win?”
His own smirk appears, “You give me your phone number…maybe even let me take you out.” Biting back a grin and fighting the warm feeling in her chest, Y/n removes the rack leaving the pool balls neatly centered.
“Challenge accepted, Coyote.”
It was safe to say both came out as winners that night. Though Y/n won the game and got the scoop on Javy’s callsign origin, he walked away with her number and plans to have dinner the following night after her charity event. Javy made the promise to come out and watch her surf, excited to see her in action. Hearing Y/n talk about the sport and her accomplishments was even cooler in person than reading it off the internet. From her amateur days to becoming a full blown professional. Winning countless championship titles, being the first woman to win The Eddie and her dream to win gold at the Olympics.
Javy was smitten.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then?” She smiled when they reached her van at the end of the night. They talked for hours to the point they lost track of time. It was 11 o’clock and she had to be up at five.
“You said it starts at noon?” At her nod Javy continued, “I’ll be there. And I look forward to our dinner plans after.” Y/n felt the heat rise, hoping it wasn’t displaying on her face.
“Me too. Thank you for a fun night, Javy,” feeling bold, Y/n leans to place a kiss on his cheek. The action leaves him stunned, smile growing bigger as she pulls away. “See you on the beach.”
Now Javy had loved the beach before meeting Y/n. But his love for it and the ocean only grew the moment he watched her ride the waves. Cheering from the sand as she dropped down and glided the tide with ease. It made him want to stay there forever.
He understood quickly why she was regarded as the greatest female surfer of all time. Yeah it was a charity competition and not a world championship, but Y/n treated the waves no differently. She was a beast. Total control of her board, little to no mistakes.
Their dinner date was filled with laughter, flirty sarcasm, stories so outrageous one would think they were bluffing. Javy spoke of his time at Top Gun and his friendship with Jake. Y/n told him about her college days. Both engaged in conversations about dreams and aspirations. Yeah they had their dream careers, but one can always dream bigger. Dream about friendship, dream about love.
Dream about the future.
When the night came to an end, Y/n laid her head on the pillow with a smile on her face, “I think this might be paradise.”
23 July 2021–The Hard Deck, San Diego California.
“It’s almost time for USA!” Javy hushes everyone, grabbing the remote to increase the volume. The place was packed mostly with the squad's friends, colleagues, the Pacific Beach Surf Club, and college students from UC San Diego. Togethery they were gathered to watch the opening ceremonies of the 2020 Tokyo Olympics.
The Tokyo Olympics.
Finally after a whole year of waiting the Games were finally being held. A global pandemic sure would be the only thing to stop the most iconic two-week sporting event in the world.
And Javy’s girlfriend, 12x World champion Y/n L/n, was there to be part of surfing's Olympic debut. Gold on her mind.
The two had been long distance the majority of their relationship, but FaceTimed nearly every day with promises to visit as soon as restrictions were lifted. Y/n traveled to San Diego in the winter of 2020 to mark the couple’s one year anniversary. Then Javy flew to Hawaii in the spring, spending two weeks in Kapolei where most time was spent surfing and late night drive on the beach.
“There’s no place I’d rather be,” he sang at the top of his lungs, windows rolled down .
“Than on my surfboard out at sea,” Y/n followed, smile wide on her face with her hair blowing in the wind.
“Lingering in the ocean blue.”
“And if I had one wish come true.”
Together they sang, “I’d surf ‘til the sun sets beyond the horizon!”
Y/n tilted her head back, “‘Āwikiwiki, mai lohilohi. Lawe mai i ko papa he’e nalu.”
Belting out together once again, their voices echoed in the night, “Flying by on the Hawaiian roller coaster ride!!”
“‘Āwikiwiki, mai lohilohi. Lawe mai i ko papa he’e nalu.”
“Pi’i nā nalu lā lahalaha. ‘O ka Moana hānupanupa.”
“Lalala i ka lā hanahana. Me ke kai hoene i ka pu’e one.”
“Heel, hele mai kākou ē.”
“Hawaiian roller coaster ride!”
During the Olympic surf qualifying event in Huntington Beach the whole squad was in attendance to cheer Y/n on. Javy embraced her in tears, lifting her onto his shoulders to the hollars and whistles of their friends and family.
Y/n was officially an Olympian.
Now usually during the parade of nations of the opening ceremonies Greece is the first to enter the arena followed by the countries in alphabetical order with the hosting nation entering last. Having waited a whole year due to the Covid-19 pandemic, the world was excited to get the Games started. But to everyone’s surprise the order of the parade of nations would proceed differently than prior Olympics.
Greece still entered first, followed by the Refugee Olympic Team and then the nations paraded in based on where they fell on the Gojūon system. Japan would be the last country to march in, but for the first time ever the hosting countries of the next two Olympics entered before the hosting country. And what were those two countries?
France and The United States of America.
Paris was set to host the upcoming 2024 Games just three years away, and then in 2028 Los Angeles gets the honor once again of bringing the world together. The last time LA hosted was in 1984, and the last time America itself hosted the Summer Games was Atlanta 1996.
“Okay everyone shut up!!” The tv was turned to the loudest volume possible, all in attendance falling to hush whispers.
“Everything changes,” Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson’s voice echoes through the speakers, his silhouette figure walking into an empty arena. “The longest wait of their lives is over.” The beat of the music gets louder, building in pressure. “And the combination of their blood, sweat, and tears,” his face is revealed under the light, “finally arrives.”
The beat drops in time with the image of fireworks rocketing from the Rio arena, an announcer’s voice stating, “this is the moment that you all have been waiting for.”
“It’s not easy to bring the entire whole planet together,” the Rock states, “and it certainly wasn’t tonight. But, here we are.”
“Finally!”
“It’s finally here.”
“The Olympics are finally here,” Gold Medalist Simone Biles grins.
“Yeah, I’m hyped up.”
“Can’t wait to show the world what I got.”
The image shows Dwayne once again, “Tonight we are all so lucky to witness the hardest workers in the room.” Then it changes to athletes training, from gymnast Sam Mikulak to sprinter Noah Lyles. “The athletes who are a brilliant tapestry of talent, commitment, and drive.”
“Drive, drive, drive!”
“Now what was once considered unthinkable just one year ago has become a glorious reality. We come together united to celebrate the Olympians who exemplify the very best in all of us.”
🎼 legs are shaking, hands aching, 🎼
Simone Biles appears, determination in her gaze as she races down the vault runway. “It’s Simone’s party and everyone else is just a guest,” Tim Daggett’s voice cuts in during the clip of Simone at the World Championships, followed by the Rock.
“She is absolutely the greatest gymnast the world has ever seen. But even if there’s nothing left to prove, there’s a chance to launch herself even higher into the rarest air of immortality.”
As Simone lands her vault, it transitions into Katie Ledecky entering the pool. “The most dominant swimmer in the world.” “It’s just ridiculous!”
“She swims like a machine created to wreak havoc and decimate with impunity.”
“Katie Ledecky smashes her own world record!”
“But in reality she’s about the nicest person you’ll ever meet,” the rock’s face returns, bearing his own smile like Katie. “And kindness matters. Always.” Track star Noah Lyles running takes over. “He makes running as fast as you can look the way it’s supposed to look.”
“NOAH LYLES, WORLD CHAMPION!”
Dwayne grins, “Damn fun.” The next athlete featured was the one they were all waiting for.
“On dry land she’s impressive, in the water she’s simply lethal,” the Hard Deck erupted in cheers, Y/n flashing onto the screens showcasing her drop in during the WSL World Tour.
“That’s my baby!!!” Her name appeared in big bold letters like the others, ‘Y/n L/n. Kapolei, O’ahu, HI.’
“Monstruos wave for Y/n L/n, but she handles it like a pro.” The clip shows her pointing to the sky in victory following her win. “She’s here to prove why surfing should’ve been in the Olympics ages ago,” the Rock looks proud, “and look cool as hell while doing so.”
The tone of the video shifts, bringing forth the raw and emotional reality of athletes who’ve given every inch of their soul to be on the world’s greatest sporting stage. “They’re kids from Minneapolis—.”
“Kenny Harrison!” A girl crosses the finish line in joy, soon embraced by her father. “Raleigh.”
Fellow surfer and native Hawaiian Carissa Moore is shown, “And Honolulu.” A baby in a stroller being pushed by her mother. “They’re working moms with unfinished business.” Allison Felix with her daughter.
“This is what makes all the sacrifice worth it.”
Simone Manuel becoming the first Black woman to win an individual Olympic gold at the 2016 Rio Games. “The barrier breakers who’ve proven the power of the platform.”
“I can’t begin to tell you what this means for the sport of swimming in the United States.”
“There’s Jordan—!” A montage of Gold medal winning teams flashed. The Fab Five. The women’s soccer and basketball teams. The women’s rowing team. The Fierce and Final Five of U.S Gymnastics. “And the teams that have dominated for generations with no intention of changing the script for this one.”
“Get the gold medals ready. Again!”
“These awe-inspiring multi-talented athletes are taking on the world.”
🎼 ‘You bring me back to life.’ 🎼
Between the music and feel good montage, some of the viewers in the hard deck were having trouble holding back tears. Chills racking up their body. It made them want to get out and start training to be a world class athlete.
“They really are the best of us. They’re bringing us together.”
“That’s a new world record!”
“And they’re about to give you, at long last, the greatest two-week spectacle the world has ever seen.” Close ups of Team USA’s Olympians rolled, Javy wiping his eyes when Y/n appeared. “It is their Games. It is our Games.”
Absolute chills.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I am so grateful to have the honor of presenting to you….Team USA.” At the last word the Rock disappears, cutting to Team USA entering the Tokyo dome—the American flag flying high, “USA! USA! USA!” Though they couldn’t hear the cheers from the Hard Deck across the ocean, that didn’t stop the building from erupting in whistles. It was only the opening ceremonies so one could imagine what it would be like come the 26th and 27th.
When Y/n hits the waves for a chance at Olympic gold.
Tsurigasaki Beach, located 40 miles from Tokyo, was the place where it would all happen. The damp sand beneath Y/n’s toes felt comforting. Although the overcast skies made her worried. Tropical Storm Nepartak caused the waves to be more aggressive and unpredictable. It was going to be an interesting day of competition.
After qualifying with a big score in her heat the previous day, Y/n was set to compete in the quarterfinals that morning. From there the semi-final contestants would be decided, going straight into the event before finals that afternoon. Three events in one day if she made it all the way to the end.
“I’m going to be so sore tonight.”
Shortboard in hand, Y/n raced to the water the second the horn sounded. Instant shivers along her arms from the cold feeling. Cloudy skies prevented the sun from heating the water, “goodness gracious.”
Quarterfinals breezed by. Y/n started off strong with a score of 7 for her first wave, going on to claim two more, another 7 and an 8 bringing her total score to a 15. Putting her, American Carissa Moore, South African Bianca Buitendag and Japan’s Amuro Tsuzuki into the semifinals.
“Stellar performance by Y/n L/n of the United States. She had a bit of trouble on her second wave—which we can’t blame her for; many competitors have been having difficulty today due to the impact of tropical storm Nepartak on the tide. L/n’s score of 15 puts her at the top for the quarterfinals, but that can all change when we return for the semifinals in the next hour. It looks like she’ll be up against Japan’s Amuro Tsuzuki for one of two spots in the gold medal match.”
“That’s how you do it,” Javy clapped at the tv, the footage replaying Y/n’s competition highlights. “Semi-finals here we go.”
During the semis the pressure was on. Y/n could feel it all over, anxiety coursing when the horn sounded. Thirty minutes on the clock, ticking down to eliminate either her or Amuro. Usually her luck turns out for the better whenever she gets the first wave, however, Amuro beats her to it. Catching the next one Y/n focuses on pulling speed and managing her flow into the maneuvers, receiving a score of 6.2 on her first wave, 8.3 on her second and 7 on her third. Unfortunately a wipe out early on her fourth and final wave results in a score of 3.
“Is that gonna be enough?” Jake cringes, noticing the look of unease on his friend's visage. Y/n appeared shaken from the wipe out. Very rare has she ever messed up greatly in competition. But there’s always a first for everything.
Javy had a paper in front of him, writing down Y/n’s scores and the ones of her competitors to predict what she needed and if she was qualified to the final round.
“Her six and seven will be dropped, putting her at 11.30,” he taps the pen on the bar surface, “if Amuro doesn’t get another wave in the next,” Javy checks the time, “two minutes then it should put Y/n through to the finals.”
Amuro did in fact catch another wave before the horn sounded, ending their round in the semis, but it wasn’t enough. Her total score accumulated a 7.43, eliminating her from the final competition.
“One more,” her father/coach took a hold of her shoulders. “You’re almost there, Y/n.” Almost to the gold. “Rest up, you got one hour.”
He didn’t have to tell her twice. Picking up a water bottle and plotting on the sand Y/n downed the liquid and munched on an apple. To pass time she scrolled through Tik Tok, sent a selfie to Javy—who sent one of him and the squad back—and called her family in O’ahu to calm her nerves. She had already talked with Javy that morning before quarterfinals, promising to FaceTime him after the finals.
It was nerve racking. Regardless of how the event went, Y/n was guaranteed the silver medal. USA would take home both Gold and Silver in surfing’s debut being fellow American Carissa Moore beat out South Africa’s Bianca Buitendag in their round.
One competition left.
Bidding good luck to Carissa, Y/n took her position and waited for the horn. Thirty minutes on the clock. Thirty minutes to a gold medal.
“Here we go,” Payback announced in time with Y/n paddling out to sea. Javy rubbed his hands together, eyes glued to the screen.
“And the two Americans are off in the first ever gold medal match for surfing. Carissa Moore, the 2019 WSL World Champion, and twelve-time title holder Y/n L/n head-to-head to declare who will become the woman to win surfing’s first gold medal. Both have exemplified great performances today—it’s not easy doing a quarterfinals, semi-finals, and finals all in one day, but these pros make it look easy.”
“There she goes!” Nat shouted, earning cheers at the bar when Y/n caught the first wave of the competition.
“Kicking off with the first wave, in just two minutes of the clock starting is Y/n L/n. Dropping in beautifully, easing into the wave…..Straight into an roundhouse cutback, which she does flawlessly. Bottom turn, I think she’s gonna try and do a off-the-lip right here….and she nails it! I think she’s hoping to elongate this wave as far out as she can. Carving now and finishing with a 360 into an Ariel. Wow! That was a great start by Y/n.”
“Yeah that’s what I’m talking about!” Javy shouted over the cheers, grin plastered wide only to brighten more when the score came back a 8.7. “HELL YEAH! LETS GO!”
Carissa’s wave was impressive. She managed to hold it down with complicated moves to earn a 8.5. Both women scored huge on the first waves followed by 7s across the board. Nearing the final five minutes Carissa managed to get a 6.43.
“She can’t get anything lower than a 6.23,” Javy felt sweat pool on his forehead, suddenly feeling hot in the bar despite it being the ass crack of dawn.
“She’s got this,” Nat patted his back.
The clock was ticking down. Two minutes to go and Y/n had yet to find a wave. Placing her palm onto the surface, she took a deep breath, “please, give me a sign.” Not a moment later she felt something in her say to look right.
There, brimming about fifteen feet away, was the perfect wave.
Wasting no time Y/n’s chest planted to her board, paddling as fast as possible. Her heart was pounding, salt water splashing. Positioning herself in front of the forming body, Y/n silently called out to whoever was listening for strength.
“Wow she’s going for that huge current out on the west side. Moore is too far back—it’s gonna be L/n on the final wave of the women’s competition. With one minute to go she’s dropping in—.”
Y/n allowed the adrenaline to consume her, giving it total control as she dropped in. The highest wave of the competition yet, Y/n knew she’d be having a tube ride with how it formed. Picking up speed, she knelt slightly, paralleling her chest with the wall of the wave, the water curving around her. Blocking the world from her view.
It was just her and the sea. No one else.
Closing her eyes briefly, she pictured she was back on O’ahu in the water she grew up in. Sun beating down and gentle hum of seagulls.
Like she was in paradise.
The image left as quick as it came. Y/n snapping out of her daydream to exit the tube ride to the cheers of her father on the beach, curing back into the wave to finish on a high note by performing her signature Ariel. Smiling the whole way down just as the horn signified the end of the competition.
“And there you have it folks. The women’s surfing finals has officially come to a close—Y/n L/n ending her Olympic Games with a remarkable last wave. Absolute perfection with speed, precision, and control. That’s gonna be the highest score for her I feel.”
“C’mon, c’mon,” Javy bit his nail, knee bouncing from the anxiety of not knowing. Carissa’s total score was displayed first, 14.93. Y/n’s lowest was a seven, highest 8.7. Her final wave was amazing, but judging was unpredictable. Anything could happen.
Then in the blink of an eye the hard deck exploded.
“I don’t believe it! Tens across the board for Y/n L/n bringing her total to 17.00!! Y/n L/n has won the gold for the United States—Carissa Moore with the silver. USA goes one and two in women’s surfing at its Olympic debut!!! Take it all in, we are witnessing history,” the screen shows Y/n and Carissa embracing, leaning over their boards to congratulate the other, “Team USA has much to celebrate, the world of surfing has their champion. Y/n L/n adds gold to her name—surfing’s first Olympic Champion here in Tokyo!!”
Y/n laughed the entire time she paddled to shore, raising to her feet to race towards her father. She was soaking wet but he didn’t care. “You did it!” He yelled, kissing her head with tears in his eyes. “You’re an Olympic champion! I’m so so proud of you!” Soon they were greeted by Carissa and the rest of Team USA’s surfing members. The two women were lifted onto shoulders, American flags draped over their backs with photographers surrounding them.
It was a moving image. Two women from Honolulu and Kapolei, Hawaii won surfing’s first Olympic silver and gold medal. If only Duke Kahanamoku could be there to witness.
Back at the hard deck celebratory drinks were served and toasts raised to Y/n. Javy barely contained his emotion, eyes watering the moment her name came back the winner. Natasha and Jake embraced him in a hug, the guys whistling and hollering. Penny rang the bell.
“She won! Oh my God my baby is a gold medalist!! This is the best day ever!!”
The entire podium ceremony Y/n was on cloud nine. Placing the gold medal around her neck, she took a moment to stare at it. Disbelief and awe in her eyes. ‘Wow, I actually did it.’
When the national anthem came to an end Y/n did the traditional bite of the medal for the cameras. Posing with Carissa and Bianca afterwards, Y/n was ushered to interviews.
“Hello, Y/n,” the reporter beamed, “congratulations are in store—what an amazing moment for you. You’re the first gold medalist in women’s surfing at the Olympics. How does it feel?”
“It’s absolutely a dream come true. For years the surfing community has wished for this—to be in the Olympics and for me to be part of its debut, winning the gold medal…I-I can’t put into words how much this means to me. I’m so grateful and honored.”
“You’ve been around for a while now,” the reporter mentioned, “2004 was the first time we saw you and you’ve gone on to have a stellar surfing career. Winning the WSL World Surfing Games twelve times now—competing when it was still called the WSL World Championships and became the first woman to win The Eddie Aikau Big Wave Invitational in 2016. This is your first Olympic Games, surfing will be at the Paris Games in three years. Can we expect to hopefully see you there?”
“I wouldn't rule it out,” Y/n winked with a giggle. “Paris is in three years and I would love to return to the Olympics again. After dreaming for so long I don’t want to let it go so easily. Of course anything can happen between now and 2024 but with my family, friends, and boyfriend cheering me on with their endless support…” she gave a cheeky shrug, “I’m gonna work hard and get back in the water once I’m home.”
“We’ll be rooting for you, Y/n. I don’t think the surfing world is ready to say goodbye to you. Anything else you’d like to say before you have to go. Anyone you’d like to say thanks to?”
Instantly the Olympian brightened, eyes locking on the camera. “I wanna give a shoutout to my hometown of Kapolei on O’ahu—the place where this journey started on the beautiful beaches and waters of my home. To my family and friends, thank you for your love, support, guidance and always cheering me on even when the going gets tough. My dad, who’s been my coach since I was seven is with me here to share this win, I couldn’t have done this without him. To my San Diego family watching, you better save me a beer at the Hard Deck when I come visit next week,” she winks, knowing the squad would get a kick out of it. Then Y/n softens, “and finally to my boyfriend, Javy, who’s with our friends in Fightertown. I love you so much, thank you for being my rock during quarantine and pushing me to do my best. I can’t wait to see you and this is for you.” Holding up the medal, Y/n blows a kiss to the screen before saying goodbye to the reporter.
Upon landing in San Diego two nights later, Y/n was greeted by a celebration from her friends. Members of the Pacific Beach Surf Club were there, as were the dagger squad. Javy met her in the middle the second she exited the terminal, lifting her in his arms. “Finally your back!! I’m so fucking proud of you!” Setting her down, he kept his arms around her and the two jumped up and down like school children in a heap of laughter.
Finally they calmed, sharing a sweet kiss. “How was your flight,” he walked when they pulled away, moving to grab her carryon back.
“Long,” she moaned, leaning into his side. “But worth it.” Soon she was surrounded by their friends. Congratulations all around, Mickey asking to see the medal, Jake saying all her drinks are on him, Nat telling her how much she missed having another girl around. “I missed you guys,” Y/n pouted, “man I wish you all could’ve been there.”
“Don’t worry, Y/n/n,” Bradley patted her shoulder, “We’ll be there in Paris.”
“That’s quite a bit away, Roo.”
“Yeah,” he shrugged, “but there’s no harm in planning now.”
“Let’s let the woman rest before kicking her training mode into gear,” Javy teased, earning a playful nudge from his girlfriend. Together they got her bags and headed straight for The Hard Deck. They drinked, they danced. Javy and Y/n had a rematch of their pool game.
“This feels a bit like deja vu,” she smirked, chalking up her cue. Javy winked, puckering his lips in an air kiss causing her to laugh.
For a week Y/n stayed in San Diego before flying home to Hawaii with Javy. Again she was greeted at the airport by her family and friends she’d grown up with. The local news station was present, students from schools wanting to join in on the celebration. It felt amazing to be home after two weeks away.
They settled in at her Honolulu home, finding the perfect place to display her medal and ordered take out since neither was in the mood to cook after a 6 ½ hour flight. Once finished with dinner Y/n gave her boyfriend a knowing look, “Wanna watch the sunset?”
She didn’t mean sitting on her porch or even the sand. No, she meant taking the boards and laying out on the sea as the calm surface of the water kept them afloat.
Javy agreed, rushing to get his swim trunks on while she put on a swimsuit. Grabbing their boards they locked up the house and jogged the quarter of a mile to the beach, paddling out to get a front row seat of the descending sun. Colors of bright orange and pink painted the sky. A beautiful contrast to the deep blues of the ocean.
“Is this heaven?” He whispered, finding her eyes staring back at him from where her cheek pressed to the board. All the love conveying in the simple look. And with her gentle words, Javy felt all the worry and unease he ever experienced lift from his soul.
“More like paradise.”
……………….
TGM Tag list: @avaleineandafryingpan , @caitsymichelle13 , @poppyalice2001 , @cutelittlepotatofry , @luckyladycreator2, @americaarse , @elenavampire21 , @back-tooo-black , @wildellaa , @artemissunn , @pinkpantheris
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solitary-cutie · 7 months
Text
Darkness to our light. Part II
Part I
Part III
Part IV
prompt: you and coriolanus are married, it's unbearable for you, but it will all end soon
contains: dark, manipulative, controlling coriolanus. fem!reader.
And so you are sitting in the living room waiting for the only person ypu could talk to - the piano teacher. Sharing with desire to continue your once neglected studies, Coryo did not fail to fulfill whim of his better half and help Her. He would always help, even without asking. No matter if you needed this intervention. He would spend all the money on your wants without even mentioning it, as if forgetting, deliberately ignoring any checks in the stores, but you clearly knew that this wastefulness was another yoke around your neck, because one should be grateful. Especially if the checks came in the mail, and the history of purchases served him in calculating the spending for the month.
“Hello. Hey, you guys quiet today? Helpers’s a bit tense today. Not even tea! Can you believe it? Didn't offer! - The teacher laughed, putting out a folder with notes, a pencil, an eraser and an orange leather notebook from her bag on the snow-white piano.”
“Oh yes, He's planning a dinner party, everyone's getting ready. He's inviting coworkers, his sister. He's looking forward to the promotion.”
“Oh, wow. Who's coming from yours?”
You didn't say anything, was ashamed of yourself. “No, it is his night.” Silence. “Maybe you'll come?” Open hope in the voice of her student, almost her age.
“When? I had plans, but I'd stop by.”
“It starts at 7:00. I'll be waiting, you know! You can come when it's convenient for you.”
A weightless touch, as if you'd brushed something off the back of her hand. You ran your eyes around the room. He's not home. The teacher softened.
“Okay, I'll try.” She finally sits down on a nearby chair. “Come on, show me how you've been practicing. Have you tried to put both hands together yet?”
“I tried, but no luck.”
“Did you play the metronome?”
“Yeah, I got more confused.”
“All right, I'll do the math. Go ahead. E-e-e, one and, two and--“
The game began, with mistakes and quick, hurried edits.
“You've changed.” Said the teacher, stopping counting out the rhythm, because the student was already helping herself with the silent movement of her lips.
“He says the same thing to me.” She chorused the rhythm.
“You're not so much flirtatious, laughing. The author's depression? When was the last time you sat down at the pen?” She smiled.
“I miss it. Okay, wait, what's the best way to play this? I forgot.”
The teacher intercepted her hands and began playing the obscure part, counting out the rhythm aloud with intonation highlighting that "And three, And four, And one...".
“You're unhappy.”
“No, why?”
“That's not a question. I can recommend a psychologist, the best woman I know. She helped me let go of my resentments.”
“I'm not resentful.”
“Teach you to love yourself, so you don't deny those resentments, but accept them. Appreciate yourself, don't deny being alone, but accept being one with yourself. You are not alone, know you can walk away from where you want to walk away from.” The teacher did not realize how she had pushed the piano aside and how she had moved on to passionate speeches. She had been spared the resentment, but not the desire to save.
You looked around the room again out of habit.
“At least he doesn't hit you?”
“No, God, of course not.” You caught the doubt in her eyes and a second frown furrowed her brow. “No, seriously, I wouldn't stand for that. I'm not leaving him. I can't.”
“There's no word for "can't."
“I mean, what dictionary can I give you to back that up? I don't even want to leave. We are one and the same, and he won't just let me go. The only way I'm getting out of here is with my feet up. If I'm lucky and he dies before I do, I'll have a few years of pleasure.” She smiled, starting the composition from the beginning.
“In the left hand hurry a little. And how can you reason like that about a man you're married to? And if the children come, what will you do?”
“The later they come, the better, God forbid now.”
“Does he want them now?”
You hesitated, not stopping the game. It was embarrassing. Again.
“Well he hasn't talked about them yet, though I don't know how he plans to.”
“So even your body doesn't belong to you? You don't talk about your plans, not your plans, but his.”
“My soul doesn't even belong to me. Look, my arms are tired, can I take a little break?” Nod. “What's the best way to pedal here?”
“First learn to control both hands.”
Silence.
You wonder if you could call it a pun. If your body and even the imperishable substance of your being belongs to your husband, a white-haired angel raised in hell and invited into the ether of paradise, a world of powerful, fully-endowed people, will you be able to control what you lost access to on the date that the calendar refers to as the "Anniversary of Dating"?
The remaining hour of class passed in silence, resulting in the learning of a new sonata, even with the use of a pedal to stretch the sound, giving it a smooth flow from one bar to the next.
“I have a question here: when will you finally learn the bass clef? Will you stop signing notes?” The teacher mocked, marking in the diary the next lesson for January.
“It's a rhetorical question.” You looked at the Interlocutor. “Oh man, I don't like that bass clef, I can't memorize it. The only thing I know is what the C note looks like. That's it.”
“Don't forget the "B."
“Oh yeah, and then..." She made a long road to nowhere with her hand.
“And then let the Snow land on top.” He stood at the white archway that opened the living room, leaning lightly against the blue wall with gilded patterns and trees.
You shuddered, nerves to no avail, you were easily frightened, which could not be said of your teacher, - a girl strong-willed. Nevertheless, the fright laid a heavy stone on her heart, sinking it into her heels, and she dropped her pencil and, looking at him confusedly, hurried to pick it up.
“I didn't mean to disturb you, much less frighten you.” The ice-cold eyes flashed over each of the girls, burning their insides with cold.
Coriolanus knew you were partial to this pianist. From the first time you met her, He had noticed the glint in your eyes. Gross, He didn't approve of it, but He also knew it was certainly not worth worrying about. You amuse yourself as best you can from lack of socialization with Him. Yes, maybe you complain about Him, suffer, but you won't leave Him because you don’t want to. These reflections might have reassured Him if He had once experienced a semblance of even doubt, let alone anxiety.
“Ginny, my wife and I are organizing a dinner party tonight. We'd love for you to come.” His eyes darted to you, looking at your teacher. What will you do? If you start coaxing her “friend”, this conversation never happened between you, but if you walk up to Him and...
“What a great idea!” You whispered, flying up to your husband and hugging him by the forearm. He smiles, it all became clear, you had already invited her, but was it scary to ask Him? “I was afraid to invite Ms. Ring because of the possibility of rejection.”
Now you are on His side, snuggling up to Him to get hers. Manipulative. And who are you trying to bend to your will is unclear.
“Yes, of course, thank you for the invitation, I'd love to come. But I'm afraid I'm busy, so I won't be able to make it to the beginning of the evening.”
“I didn't tell you the time, in case you get there.”
You both looked at each other. The pianist was confused.
“Dinner starts at 6:00 or 7:00 in the evening. Ms. Ring apparently skips a lot of dinner.” She tried to put the question into an impromptu justification for the two of them, but it came out badly. The answer to his line didn't work anyway.
“It starts at seven o'clock, but knowing some of the guests, they'll be a little later.” He looked at his wife. “Play the new composition you've learned for me.”
“We haven't played it all the way through yet. We need time.”
“Play it.” Demand…
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