#to be fair it's because i scheduled so many days off from work for next week
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I guess it’s never really over
mechanic!steve harrington x fem!reader exes to lovers
chapter three -
This has got to be the longest crush ever
Robin’s bad date, and a late night that changes everything.
warnings: 18+ A little bit of queer and mid twenties crisis angst for Robin, with comfort obvi. Tension, but are we surprised at this point?, and a secret third thing, wonder what it could be? 😚
wc: 6.3k
authors note: Hi babies! I am taking just a week off from my posting schedule for this week long work trip I’m taking on Monday. There’s lots of conferences and I won’t have much down time. We will resume our normal posting schedule for chapter four starting 3/20 🌻🧡
series masterlist | series playlist
June -
Would you believe me if I said I’m in love?
Baby, I want you to want me.
You can’t believe you landed yourself in detention.
All your late night study sessions for the SAT’s that led to oversleeping and missed alarms finally catching up to you just like Robin warned you it would. Miss O’Donnell is the one who makes your best friend's predictions come true, handing you that notorious pink slip for walking into her class ten minutes late for the third time this week.
When you arrive at exactly 3:15, the classroom is mostly empty. Your eyes scan the bored faces of the few students joining you, hoping to at least see Eddie’s familiar head of curls. But of course, today of all days, he’s managed to be on his best behavior or just didn’t get caught.
Sighing defeated, you give Mr. Clark a tight lipped smile, ignoring the shocked look on his face seeing you in here. Picking an empty desk in the middle away from anyone, you decide to busy yourself with the Algebra homework you’ve been avoiding for the better half of a week. It’s when you lean over to unzip your backpack that you catch the sounds of sneakers squeaking against the ceramic floors.
”Ahh, Mr. Harrington. Even fashionably late to detention, I see. Your hair looks good enough to sit in silence for an hour and a half to me.” Mr. Clark announces the king of Hawkins's grand entrance with the kind of sarcasm that makes you smirk as you start arranging your things on your desk.
“That’s good to know 'cause I was doing it for you Mr. C.”
Steve Harrington always thinks he’s so charming
Snorting as you click your pen, you dare to look up only to catch ‘the hair’ looking right back at you with that golden smile that you’ve seen take even the strongest soldiers out.
Oh no.
Eyes going big, you quickly bring your attention back down to your homework, silently hoping he doesn’t take the seat next to you and land you in here next week too.
“So thoughtful of you. Now why don’t you take a seat and do some studying for that test on Monday. And maybe this semester you won’t have to worry about relying on extra credit to keep playing basketball.” Mr. Clark dismisses him, earning a low whistle from the boy who holds his hands up in surrender, Nike covered feet coming down your row.
No, no, no, NO.
You still don’t look up, rereading the same question over and over again because no matter how many times you try, you’re too distracted by the cedar and clove that invades your senses kicking them into overdrive. The whites of his sneakers catch in your peripherals when he does the unimaginable and sits next to you.
Staring at the equation with the kind of concentration that’ll be sure to give you a migraine later, it takes him a good thirty seconds before he temporarily gives up trying to get your attention to grab something that gives the illusion of studying out of his backpack.
Trying to play it cool, your stomach twists in nervous knots worse than the ones you get when Robin forces you on the janky rides at the summer fair every year. Sure, you’ve been hit on by a guy here and there, but no one can prepare you for what it’s like to catch Steve Harrington’s attention—especially for someone in your Hawkins hierarchy who would never be on the receiving end of it.
He flips through the pages of his textbook loudly, earning his first warning glare from Mr. Clark, and you decide to write your name on the top of the page so at least it looks like you’re doing something. After a couple bounces of your knee, you can feel the heat of his gaze back on you.
”Psst, hey.”
The last letter of your name comes out illegible, and you jump at the hushed sound of his voice. Taking a deep breath, you work up the courage to meet his flirtatious smirk and golden brown eyes. The sun leaking through the windows gives you a glimpse of the green that hides inside them from this close. You hate to admit that he’s just as pretty as everyone says he is.
”Hi,” you smile a little shy, offering a small wave of your pen and it lights up his whole face, making your body buzz.
”You have a highlighter I can use or something?” He keeps up his ruse, the whites of his teeth showing in a grin.
You arch an eyebrow at him, something sarcastic reminiscent of Mr. Clark flashing behind your eyes.
“What? You don’t think I’m actually going to study?” He acts shocked, slapping his giant hand across his chest and it earns the kind of giggle from you that pushes him full steam ahead.
”It’s blue, is that okay?” Giving into the bait, you try and hide the way your face warms, ducking down to dig in the bottom of your backpack.
”Are you kidding? I love blue. Favorite color actually.” Laying it on thick, you can see the way he scoots to the edge of his seat, the spice of his cologne making you bite at your bottom lip as your fingers wrap around what you’re looking for.
Sitting up in your seat, you aren’t expecting him to be so close and it threatens to steal the air right out of your lungs.
”H-here,” you manage, holding the blue writing utensil in the small space that's left between you.
Steve's eyes roam your face freely, pink tongue coming out to wet his full bottom lip before they settle back on your gaze, lids a little heavy, voice low and somehow sticky sweet.
”Thanks, honey.” He leans forward more, purposely brushing his fingers with yours when he takes it out of your grasp, “but now, I’m afraid the only way you’re gonna get it back is to let me drive you home after this.”
“I’ve got plenty, you can keep that one,” you try to stay strong, but when that second giggle slips out, you seal your fate.
”I can’t do that, this is your favorite one.” He tisks like it’s the craziest thing he’s ever heard, with a crooked grin that makes you bite the inside of your cheek.
”Is it?”
”Absolutely.”
“Are you two done? Or should we schedule a second date for next week?” Mr. Clark interrupts.
”That would actually be date number three. We’re going on two after this is over.” Steve smirks, throwing you a wink ignoring the harsh way you whisper of his name.
Yeah… you were fucked.
“I’ve got a date tonight!”
Robin sings excitedly, bursting through the front door in a wild ball of energy, successfully waking you up from your nap on the couch. Blinking slowly, as you start to recognize your surroundings, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you force yourself to sit up, wincing at your stiff neck and the fact that you dreamed about Steve Harrington again.
“A date with who?” You grumble, still a little grouchy, yawning with a stretch that pops in your back.
”This girl that I met at the record store this morning, we talked about Tracy Chapman and Tori Amos for what felt like hours. She’s just, wow, she’s so cool. Almost too cool for me, you know? She’s a senior in college-“
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up.” Cutting her off before she can ramble any longer, you wave your hands for her to stop: “First of all, no one is too cool for you, okay? If anything, it’s always going to be the other way around.”
“Yeah, okay, Steve.”
It takes a minute for her words to sink in about the man you haven’t seen in almost a week and a half, but when they do, the glare that settles on your face makes her laugh.
“Ha ha, very funny.” You deadpan with a tight-lipped smirk, before clearing your throat, “Well where are you guys going? Do you want me to go undercover in case you need saving? I’m fully prepared for a stakeout.”
Robin rolls her eyes, but her smile, which spreads wide enough to see all her teeth, gives away her love for your dramatics.
“No, I don’t need you to go undercover or anything. I mean, it is going to be nice knowing you’ll be here waiting for me to tell you all about it instead of having to call you and hope the city girl answers.” She teases, earning the scoff from you that she was looking for.
“I’m choosing to ignore that, and if at any point you change your mind, you know your own number.”
Earning a genuine laugh from Robin always makes your soul feel lighter, so when your joke lands and you get one, the heaviness of Steve that’s been weighing down on your shoulders eases up just a little bit.
”I’ve just never been approached in public before like that, you know? It’s not just the other girl you know is gay on campus. I don’t know, it feels good.” Your best friend’s confession makes you want to wrap her up in a hug, keeping the urge to remind her of your offer to move to the city with you to yourself for right now, letting her bask in the moment.
”Well, you're hot. Can you blame her? If you weren’t basically like a sister to me, I’d be all over it.” Wiggling your eyebrows, she flips you off, but you still catch the tinge of pink that paints her cheeks rosy.
”Please, Steve would have my head on a stake.” She snorts, purposely trying to get under your skin now.
”Robin.”
”What? I thought he was going to pop a blood vessel in his eye when I mentioned your little ‘adventure’ last week” She giggles, heading towards her bedroom.
If only she knew just how much those words were true. Your thighs meet like in the memory you can’t stop playing on a loop, palms turning sweaty, remembering the velvet of his lips so close to your neck.
”Wait! Did you ask that on purpose?!” You gasp, jumping to your feet to follow her.
”Maybe.”
”Maybe?!”
”You know what I do need help with?” She ignores you, spinning on her heel to meet your narrowed eyes.
”What?”
”Help me pick any outfit?” Pushing out her bottom lip, she gives you the kind of puppy dog eyes that no one in their right mind could say no to.
Sighing heavily, your feet drag on the carpet before flopping yourself onto her bed huffing out a “Fine” as the box springs squeak.
The rest of the day is spent going through what feels like every outfit in Robin’s possession, even getting desperate enough to try on some of your clothes despite your clashing styles. Settling on a pair of boot cut jeans, a black half crop top with a flannel shirt that you’re pretty sure she stole from Steve and the Dr. Martin’s you got her for her birthday last year, she was ready to break hearts. Blue eyes roll in the back of her head when you make her say ‘I’m the prize’ until you feel like she halfway believes it before handing over her I.D. that you’d found stuffed between the cushions of the couch in a frenzied panic to search for it only ten minutes prior.
The sun starts to set on Robin’s small apartment after she finally heads out the door, and the shadows that bounce off the white walls bring back the thoughts of Steve you’d successfully gotten rid of for a few fleeting hours.
Huffing to yourself with crossed arms, you watch the flat bag of popcorn spin around in the microwave. You can still hear the beginning Moonstruck playing on the TV in the living room, over the loud hum of the machine. Comfortable in an oversized shirt that lands just at the bottoms of your cotton sleep shorts, goosebump dot across your legs from the cool of the A/C. Your skin still tingles everywhere he touched and the week of radio silence feels worse the second time around.
The shrill sound of Robin’s phone and the first kernel of popcorn exploding in the bag overpower your ears all at once, making you jump. Mumbling cuss words under the now constant sound of popping, you try to calm your heart rate down, wandering to the living room. Your hand hovers over the phone, the realization about who might be on the other line making your stomach drop. He hadn’t called Robin yet. There’s a moment of hesitation, but you take a deep breath, letting the air expand in your lungs, silently counting to three before you grab the phone off its hook.
”Buckley residen-“
”I need you to come get me, I- I’ve made a huge mistake and I’m just so fuck - “ Robin cuts you off, the rasp in her voice cracking like she’s trying not to cry, “I’m just really embarrassed, please come get me.”
“What happened? Where are you? I’m coming, just - just tell me where you are.” Running to her bedroom to grab your sneakers with the phone pressed to your ear, you can hear her sniffle.
”Benningans, it’s the next town over. I’ll be outside -“
”Are you safe?” You panic, slipping your foot into your shoe as quickly as you can.
”I’m safe, I’m just, I’m embar- I don’t want to talk about it right now. I’m safe, I’ll be outside.” She mutters.
”I’ll get there as fast as I can, okay?” Feeling a little helpless, you try to ease the hurt that’s evident in her tone with soft reassurance.
”I’m just, I’m really glad you're here. I’ll see you soon.” She manages to get out before the line clicks dead.
Slipping your second shoe on, the realization that you don’t actually have a car to save her with, hits you like a ton of bricks.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Stomping back to the living room, your eyes find the mustard yellow address book next to the phone’s dock. Your fingers fumble through its pages, eyes squinting as you try to read Robin’s messy writing, searching for a familiar name. You find two:
Eddie and Steve.
You stare at the page, your moral compass going haywire. Despite the way he’s rented a space in your mind, the thought of seeing him alone again makes your stomach twist. Eddie would be simple. Eddie would be easy. Your thumb hovers over the first number in the one she has scribbled down for him, but no matter how hard you try, you can’t bring yourself to press it. She needs Steve.
You groan loudly, stomping your foot for good measure, before letting out a long breath through your nose, dialing his number that you knew you should have all along.
It only rings twice.
“Whatever it is, the answer is no,” Steve deadpans.
”Is that really how you answer your phone?” You scoff, doing your best to ignore the butterflies you’ve managed to stifle as they start to come alive at the sound of his voice.
“I thought this was - shit, I thought this was Henderson - erm I mean Dustin, you remember Dustin?” He stammers and you know that hand of his is running through his hair right now.
“Yeah, the middle schooler.”
“Well, he’s like nineteen now -“
“I didn’t call you to talk about Dustin, Steve,” You sigh heavily, rubbing the bridge of your nose, “Robin called me really upset from Bennigans, and I don’t have a car or any way to go get her-”
“I’m on my way.” He cuts you off without any hesitation,“Be outside in five minutes for me?”
”My shoes are already on.”
After a click, you’re left with the sound of the dial tone in your ear. You hang up the phone as warmth floods your body, easing some of your temporary worries.
Steve Harrington is making it hard to hate him.
The short walk to Steve’s BMW from Robin’s front door feels like stepping through a time machine.
One that takes you back to late nights sneaking out your bedroom window, always being extra careful not to wake your parents up so you could go make out with your secret kind of boyfriend under the stars. Those were always your favorite nights with him. The nights he’d put away the king Steve armor, those nights he’d just be Steve. A boy who just wanted to make his father proud, thinking maybe he’d stay home more if he was.
You can feel the way his eyes roam your body, the heat of his stare lingering on your exposed legs, setting your skin on fire. Suddenly more than aware of your lack of pants, only part of you regrets not changing into some leggings, but you try not to think about that too hard right now.
He clears his throat when you open the passenger door, the smell of leather and the dark woody sweet scent of oil surrounding you as you slide into your seat. The spice of his cologne tickles your nose when you close yourself in, clicking your seatbelt in place before daring to meet his eyes. The golden brown inside them shimmers with something you’d missed in the orange glow of the street light and the nerves still feel the same way they did five years ago. The only thing that hasn’t changed.
”Thanks for doing this,” you offer with a weak smile.
When he realizes you’ve put your weapons down for the night, his face softens with a crooked grin, subtle pink dusting the apples of his cheeks.
”I meant it when I said I can’t say no to you,” he starts, selfishly letting his eyes roam the smooth lines of your face that are finally not twisted up into a glare before realizing his slip up, “and Robin, my best friend obviously.”
”Our best friend, Steve.” You tease trying to ignore the tension that crackles in the empty space between you even worse than before.
”Whatever you have to tell yourself,” he winks, forearm flexing as he puts the car in drive.
Scoffing a ‘whatever’ with a playful roll of your eyes, you let your muscles relax into the familiar seat. The Police’s Every Breath You Take spills through the speakers just loud enough to be heard over the low rumble of the engine, and you become hyper aware of his hand resting on the stick shift, the tips of his fingers just close enough to brush against your thigh every time you hit a bump.
There’s a silence that falls between you once the street lights run out and his full focus shifts to the pitch black road ahead. The quiet is filled with what almost happened in his room, unspoken words that don’t dare to roll off of sober tongues. You wait until he’s too distracted looking for surprises that might run out from the woods on either side of you to let your eyes wander over and really take him in.
A white drawstring hangs low on his heather gray sweatpants that fit tight over his thighs spread wide. Your throat goes dry at the white tank top that hugs his broad chest, the gold chain that wraps around his neck getting lost in the thick patch of curls on display. You’re finally able to really make out more of his tattoo for the first time, thin, precise lines that look like feathers attached to a set of sparrow wings.
”Did she tell you what happened? I mean, is she safe?” He interrupts your greedy stare, eyes lighting up when he catches you, tucking it away for another time.
”Uhh, yeah,” you answer with a shake of your head, teeth biting down on your bottom lip with hot cheeks, “she’s safe, she kept saying she’s embarrassed but wouldn’t tell me why, just kept begging me to come get her.”
He just hums, lost deep in thought of all the things it could be, and his grip on the steering wheel tightens with worry.
“We’re only ten minutes away, so it won’t be too much longer now.”
He reassures you, but it feels like he needs it too, especially when his hand leaves the stick shift to run through his hair that looks more tousled than usual, making you wonder if he was lying in bed before this. A worried breath exhales through his nose, with a tight jaw, and you hate the way your stomach drops when both his hands find the steering wheel after he tugs on his roots a little bit.
Nervous fingers play with the bottoms of your sleep shorts, trying your best not to stare while you keep your gaze out the passenger window. Stolen glances are followed by tight lipped smiles when you’d always find him staring back. Honey and chestnut make your stomach flutter, and you think maybe some things never change.
It takes less than the ten minutes that Steve promised for the back roads to turn busy, and bright with the kind of lights a small town on a Saturday night has. A slouched frame sitting on the side of the road catches in his headlights, getting closer you see that Robin’s waves have lost all the bounce she left the house with, along with the rosy tint in her cheeks. The flashing Bennigans sign spins a block behind her, and the orange bulbs match the burning ember on the end of her cigarette that dangles from her full lips.
“Shit, it’s bad if she’s smoking,” Steve mutters, turning on his hazards as he pulls up next to her, the wheels of his car coming to a stop.
She hollows her cheeks out, taking one last drag, waving at you to stop unbuckling your seat belt as she gets to her feet. Blowing the smoke from her lungs into the wind, she flicks the half smoked butt into the street before opening the back door, sliding into the leather seats with an exasperated huff.
“Just, don’t – I’m okay,” she starts, closing the door and shutting out the whir of the traffic outside. “Turns out her boyfriend’s best friend really likes Tracy Chapman and Tori Amos too. She really thought me and him might hit it off after our talk at the record store today. I don’t want to talk about it, I just want to go home with my two favorite people and feel sorry for myself.”
“Well, you’re in luck,” Steve doesn’t miss a beat. Turning around in his seat, he flashes her his million-dollar Harrington smile. “I’m the king of feeling sorry for myself.”
Her lips twitch, but when she sees the natural roll of your eyes at the boy next to you, it turns into a full blown smile. A little shimmer came through in the dulled-out color of her eyes.
Got me up all night
all I’m singing is love songs.
“Honestly, now that I’m thinking about it, this girl sounds like a scammer, Rob. I mean, come on.” Steve snorts, rifling through her cupboards in the kitchen. Tracy Chapman and Tori Amos, what kind of game was she playing at anyway?”
Robin giggles from her place next to you on the couch, her head resting on your shoulder, the green apple of her shampoo still lingering on her curls that tickle your cheek.
“Plenty of people like those artists, Steve.” She sighs, but you can still hear her smile, “It’s fine, I’ll just stay the lonely Hawkins lesbian for the rest of my life, no big deal.”
”Shut up!”
”Will you stop?!”
You and Steve chide her at the same time, hard eyes meeting from across the living room and softening. He doesn’t even try to stop the lopsided grin that pushes up your favorite cheek and you hope Robin doesn’t feel the way it makes your skin warm.
“Whatever, I already warned you I’m going to be miserable. Gimmie a break, and you’re actually taking forever in there, by the way.” Whining, she sits up, sending a rush of fruit and leftover tobacco to your nose.
“Yeah, well, I can’t find your peanut butter,” he mutters, opening up the cabinet above the sink, the bottom of his tank top rising enough to see a sliver of sun kissed skin and a few more freckles. Why does it feel like there's always more?
”What are you even making anyway?” you ask, ignoring the way Robin’s head whips around. A smirk spreads wide across her face because you’re actually trying to make conversation with Steve.
“Just a little something that’s going to cure my best friend’s heartbreak,” he winks, the jar of JIF extra crunchy looking extra small in his grasp, twisting the cap off. “We came up with it together, actually.o biggie.”
Your gaze narrows, but he doesn’t miss the way the corners of your mouth twitch, something sparkling inside the dark gold in his eyes.
”Interesting, considering I ran to the store earlier to grab my best friend’s favorite ice cream, just in case.” You counter, something mischievous twisting up your lips. “You didn’t even think to stop and get it on our way home. Some friend.”
Robin’s smile lights up the room, very obviously enjoying the show, maybe even a little too much. Clapping her hands together, she lets out a content sigh before leaning back into the couch cushions.
”I really could get used to this,” she beams, “maybe we should have a contest, see which one of you can do the nicest things for me.”
You can’t stop the snort or the roll of your eyes that has Steve throwing his head back in a fully-bellied laugh, giving you the perfect view of his neck, and only Robin clocks the way your giggles are cut short and the secret way your eyes glaze over.
”I’m not gonna lie as much as I love crunchy peanut butter banana s’mores, I have to say Steve, the fact that she actually called you makes her the winner for the night.” She smirks, chuckling harder when you shove her with a hushed ‘Robin!’
His smile doesn’t fade as he starts to cut banana slices. Big eyes meet yours with the kind of look that threatens to melt you into the couch.
”That’s alright, I’ll be a gracious loser tonight, but just know, honey, I’m very competitive.” He warns, long fingers spreading the fruit evenly throughout the peanut butter that messily coats graham crackers.
“I don’t like to lose, so it’s fine.” Your quick reply deepens the smile lines in his cheeks, putting the finishing touches on your snacks.
“Yeah, this is definitely the life I was meant to live,” Robin gloats, nudging you, “I’m the prize, right?”
It’s your turn to throw your head back in the kind of laugh that rattles in your rib cage, too distracted to see the lovesick way Steve bites his bottom lip watching you from across the room.
But Robin does.
With a heart so full it might burst, tears threaten to spill from the ocean in her eyes, daydreaming about moments like this, only ever thinking they would be something that stayed trapped in the confines of her mind. The warming feeling of happiness wraps around Robin like a blanket when she gets to sit between you both on the couch. A distant friend she hasn’t seen in a long time, a secret she’s kept mostly to herself.
With a messy plate of half eaten treats and sticky fingers, she’s content watching Cher and Nicholas Cage fight over how much they love each other. Fully knowing that Steve is sneaking looks at you from over her head, smiling to herself at the nervous way you fiddle with your hands in your lap because of it.
Robin doesn’t fight the exhaustion that starts to make her eyelids heavy just a little halfway through the movie. It’s easy to give in when your body weight relaxes deeper into her side, and how Steve drapes his arm over the back of the couch, tucking you both into his chest with evening breaths.
You’re warm, cozier than normal, and it surrounds every part of you.
Cheek pressed against something that’s not firm enough to be the couch, you nuzzle yourself deeper, chasing the heat and the sleep that’s threatening to evade you. Your cushion starts to move, making eyes shift behind lids that aren’t ready to open yet. Lashes flutter, feeling the way your leg is slotted between someone else’s, and the warmth of a palm finds the small of your back, pulling you closer.
A deep sigh rumbles in your ear before fingertips lazily trace up and down the dip of your spine. Stubble tickles your forehead, and as coherency starts to come back to you, a softer patch of hair rubs against your cheek. The kind of spice and lingering sunshine that could only come from one person hits your senses, and the white cotton of Steve’s tank top finally becomes visible.
The shift in your breathing brings his soft touches to a halt, the muscles you’re pressed on your side against stiffening. Realizing your hands are sprawled across his chest, just under your chin, you can feel the way his heart races under your palm. He’s everywhere, and despite the way you’ve told yourself you hate him, your fingers curl into the cotton of his shirt because it feels like home. Toes pressing into his calf, you wind your leg around his tighter, and it turns timid fingertips sure of themselves, tracing patterns between your shoulder blades. You don’t dare look up at him yet, or it would make the way your own hand starts to explore his abs that twitch under your red nails real.
He feels different than you remember, there's more of him now, harder in spots that used to be soft. Your fingers get greedy, the blunt ends of your nails scratching along the outline of his happy trail, earning a low groan from him that vibrates deep in your core. Those butterflies that have made a permanent home out of you start to stretch their wings, and when they feel the soft velvet of his lips against your forehead, they tickle at your ribcage and kick up your heart rate. You wonder if he can feel it.
It’s the faintest kiss, one that you’re not sure you would’ve even felt if you were asleep, but it makes you lean in closer. Inhaling deeply, tears sting at the corner of your eyes when the familiar scent only makes you crave him more. After years spent denying the existence of his touch from your memory, it’s almost overwhelming to feel it again.
The muscles in his arm underneath your neck twitch, and the fingers that have been drawing lazy circles on your back move slowly up your shoulder. The backs of them run down your arm before they finally connect with your skin, goosebumps exploding underneath his touch in a ball of electricity that you can feel on the pads of them that start a new path up the loose sleeve of your shirt.
You fiddle with the bottom hem of his tank top, the heat of his body radiating against already flushed skin. Brave fingers dare to dip underneath only to get stopped by a large palm wrapping around your wrist
“Baby,” there's a hint of a smile and a little bit of grogginess in his voice that gives away that he hasn’t been awake that much longer than you, “I think you should at least look at me before I let you get under my shirt.”
Biting at your bottom lip, you push yourself deeper into his chest, embarrassed, feeling the gentle shake of his body when he laughs.
“Come on pretty, let me see your face.”
His affection makes your heart swell, and you know what it means if you look him in the eyes. Your nails dig into the cotton, tugging at the fabric a little while you pull yourself together, lashes fluttering against your cheeks, shaking the rest of the sleep. Lifting your head up from its hiding place, you cross the line you promised yourself you wouldn’t, but when you meet the green that shimmers in the darkness of his eyes, and the crooked grin that twists up his full pink lips, it feels good to give in.
Releasing the hold on your wrist, he’s gentle, almost hesitant, when his warm palm cups your cheek. The rough pad of his thumb traces the line of your cheekbone feather light, and you can’t help but lean into his touch. No more armor, fleeting glances, or stolen looks, not when he’s this close and even more handsome in the glow of the moonlight.
“Beautiful.” He murmurs just loud enough for you to hear, and your legs somehow wrap around his tighter.
”Yeah?” you whisper, your fingers coming up to the play with the gold chain dangling from his neck. “Why didn’t you kiss me then?”
”What?”
”Last week,”
”That wasn’t the right time,” he sighs, eyes tracing every line of your face like he’s committing it to memory, “It would have ruined it.”
“Ruined what?” You press, twisting the metal between your fingertips, heartbeat ringing in your ears.
“My chance at trying to do this the right way, the way you deserve.” He doesn’t hesitate to say it, like it’s something he’s thought about for years, and it makes your head spin.
“What about now?”
“That depends,” he hums, the pad of his thumb dragging across the slight pout of your bottom lip, threatening to steal the air from your lungs.
”On?” Your voice comes out just above a whisper. Tilting your chin up, you can still smell the peanut butter on his breath.
”If you want me to.” He breathes, the tip of his nose running along the length of yours.
Your hold on his gold chain tightens, pulling him even closer. His eyebrows pinch together when he feels the slightest brush of your lips against his, and he can still taste the sweetness of the banana.
”Please tell me you want me to.”
The desperation in his voice is enough for you to tug him down, closing what’s left of the small gap, your top lip catching against his full bottom one. Just enough to feel the familiar silk that could leave a wildfire in their wake before you finally speak.
“Kiss me, Steve.”
A groan rattles deep in his chest, and he doesn’t hesitate to do what he’s wanted to since he saw you. Applying just enough pressure to wake up every last butterfly, the tip of his nose pushes into your cheek when he slots his lips with yours. It’s soft at first like he’s testing the waters, taking it slow so he can savor it, just in case you never let him do it again.
He pulls away enough to look at you, chestnut eyes blown out wide, and you hate that you already miss his kiss. Giving into everything you’ve fought for so long, it’s your turn to capture his lips. It stuns him at first, but when you open your mouth, his body melts easily into yours, and that big hand of his moves from your cheek to hold the back of your neck. Tongue swiping boldly across your lower lip, he begs you to let him in.
Moans get hidden, muffled inside each other's mouths after you grant him access, your fingers tangle themselves inside the thick forest of his hair that’s still just as soft as you remember. Nipping at his bottom lip, the grip on the back of your neck tightens and you can feel the way he kicks up in his sweats because of it. Your own thighs threatening close when you’re reminded of what’s between his legs.
“Baby,” he warns in between kisses, feeling the roll of your hips, but you don’t miss the subtle way he tries to meet them with his own.
It’s too easy to get lost in him, and the years it took to move past him make even more sense when your tongue finds his again. Fighting for dominance, you try not to think about the irreversible damage tonight might do to you as you tug at his roots, teeth scraping together, the kiss turns more heated by the second. Years of anger and longing come out in desperate touches. His hand finds its way to your hip, the pads of his fingers brushing against the skin under your shirt, sending a shiver up your spine, letting you roll them one, two, three times before tightening his hold.
He pulls you closer, letting you win before his nose nudges against your cheek, his lips finding the corner of your mouth. Catching his breath, he trails them along your jaw before making his way down your neck. Your chest heaves, fingers turning soft and slowly running through his hair. He hums against your skin, his hand staying under your shirt, the warmth of his palm covering the small of your back, leaving wet kisses on the sensitive spot behind your ear.
”Let me take you on a date,” he whispers, leaving one more under his jaw before pulling back to look at you.
”Steve -“
”Just one,” he begs, bumping his nose with yours, smirking when it makes you smile.
”Let me sleep on it,” you sigh, ducking your head under his chin to hide. Too many thoughts trying to occupy space in your mind with a head still dizzy from his lips.
”I’ll take what I can get,” he laughs, the tips of his fingers starting up the familiar patterns that started all of this, quickly make your eyelids heavy, nuzzling deeper into his chest. You weren’t ready to think about tomorrow yet.
🌻 chapter four
#my writing#steve harrington#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington x reader smut#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington fic#steve harrington x y/n
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x : SLEEPY FAVOUR :*+゚
in which: you've unwillingly become jing yuan's cuddle buddy for his afternoon naps.
warnings: fluff, 700 wc, bad writing lul, established relationship, dialogue-heavy, gn!reader teases a clingy!jing yuan.
a/n: two fics in two days. wow. who am i. enjoy. (i posted an itoshi rin fic yesterday pls feel free to check it out!)
“you cannot keep doing this, jing yuan.”
sitting up to look at the man, your complaint is hushed quickly by the general, who places a hand on your shoulder and pulls you back down into his arms. he wraps himself around you like a vine and you groan at the suffocating sensation. still, jing yuan does not let up, not giving in to your complaints and grumbles as he draws circles on your arm.
“when you messaged me earlier about paying you a visit, i did not anticipate for it to be because you were simply feeling lonely. and clingy,” you sigh and the white-haired laughs.
“then what else?”
“something of value? something that will contribute to the wellness of the luofu?”
“is this not of value?”
“calling me as your cuddle buddy for your afternoon nap is hardly of value.”
“i object. in fact, i would beg to differ. is the wellbeing of the luofu’s general something to take lightly?”
you huff, turning around in his arms to face him. jing yuan looks at you through half-lidded eyes, fatigue evident in them as he smiles softly. instinctively, your hand reaches to tuck a strand of hair behind of ears and at the graze of your touch, he shuts his eyes, seemingly peaceful and content.
“flaunting your title, are you?” you ask. “what happened to your humility?”
he’s quick to reply. “gone if it will prevent you from leaving.”
a smooth talker. your lover, jing yuan, has always had a way with words, laced with carelessness yet drenched in honey, there’s little of him you can resist. even now, you feel your frustration subsiding with one simple comment.
“and why should the general have a few hours of the day just to slack off?” you ask. “your afternoon naps can wait, luofu’s safety shouldn’t.”
“you say that, yet how many centuries of peace have we lived through?”
“why is everything i’m saying only inflating your ego?” then, just to spite him, you pull your hand away and his eyes open at the lack of contact that grounds him to a realm of peace and comfort. immediately missing your warmth, jing yuan finds your wrist and moves it to rest on his face once more.
you don’t give him the satisfaction, hoping to give him a piece of your mind by once again, retracting your hand out of his hold and his sleepy gaze darkens into something akin to displeasure.
“won’t you indulge in me?” questions the cloud-knight. “i have worked so hard today already, i have been looking forward to taking an afternoon nap.”
“and is that not possible without me?”
he shakes his head with the temperament of a child and a pout to match. what will the court think when they see this side of your feared and revered lover? “ever since you rest with me that day, no, and i will never go back.”
where did his perseverance go?
“you suggest these things as if i am not busy myself. i cannot listen to your every request and demand when i have mountains of work to complete too!”
“i have requested that they be pushed back until later. your schedule has been cleared out for the next few hours.”
“jing yuan!” you exclaim, pushing him away lightly. “you cannot do that!”
“i can, and i have.”
before you can even utter another word, jing yuan has rolled over to lie on top of you, placing half of his weight on you to act as an anchor, effectively preventing you from moving anywhere.
the press of his muscles against you and the tightening of his arms around your torso are like cannonballs against your determination, and considering that he discarded his armour the moment you stepped through the door, it’s only fair if you do the same.
“come on, my love, do you not care for your general?” he asks, borderlining a whine.
“fine.” you surrender, finally wrapping your arms around him as well. “only because i want him to be at top performance.”
“what about your lover? don’t you wish for any benefits for him too?”
“he is of lesser importance,” you tease. “in fact, he should suffer for what he puts me through.”
jing yuan chuckles and his laugh reverberates into your heart. “i would hate to be him, then."
"watch yourself, jing yuan."
"of course, anything for you," murmurs the white-haired before he finds purchase in the bend of your neck. surrounded by you, he wordlessly dozes off without a care in the world.
© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
#jing yuan x reader#jing yuan fluff#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#hsr fluff#honkai star rail fluff#jing yuan x reader fluff#jing yuan x gn reader#hsr x gn reader#honkai star rail x gn reader
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gimme ur fav luke headcanons 😏
DATING l. castellan
pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader
a/n: hi soleil it spooks me what u will do with this information but i also got so carried away with this for some reason and i did in fact not proofread it
• he’s a thief. so obviously as soon as you point out something in the store, uttering a quick “that’s pretty,” he’s nodding and pushing you along to go to another section of the store, mumbling something like, “sure is.” so as soon as you’re not looking he’s breaking the tag off the item and sliding it into his back pocket because he knows that if you were to see him, you’d scold him for his habit.
and when he hands it over to you later without an explanation, you’re asking, “how did you buy this?” and when he looks away nervously, you’re quick to lecture him about why what he did was wrong—but he doesn’t care; he gets to see the smile and appreciation from you.
• hearing constant “i’m so sorry” when he comes late to hang out with you. he’s the head counselor and has so many responsibilities to the point that even begging mr. d to let him go and hang out with his girlfriend will never work.
so when he finally does have the time to hang out, he’s exhausted—beads of sweat from sparring evident on his forehead as he takes the backpack he had slung over his shoulder and tosses it to the ground.
and he’s trying to give you as much attention as he can as he shares stories from his day with you, but his adhd’s getting to him and his eyes are so, so heavy and—you finally ask him if he just wants to go to sleep, and he’s jumping out of bed and changing into comfortable sleeping clothes.
soon he’s back in bed with you, comfortable and grateful enough that the few time he gets with you is not as stressful as what he had to deal with before.
• omfg sparring is the worsttttt with him. he makes you schedule two whole hours, yapping about something like, “i’ll just tell any other kids who wanna practice to wait until tomorrow,” and you’re telling him how it’s not fair for you to take that practice away from someone else, and he’s rolling his eyes and leaving your cabin after pressing a sloppy kiss to your forehead and mumbling, “see you tomorrow.” when you do see him tomorrow, he’s already working on his footwork and smirks as you arrive. the next couple hours are brutal. there are no breaks. at that point, why did you even bring a water bottle?
because every time he has you pinned down and you’re grunting, your throat dry as you look over to your water, he tilts your head back to him with his sword and gives you a look that tells you to focus.
and every time he gets his touch on you, he’s ordering, “again.” he wins. “again.” he wins again. “again.” so many times that you repeat the same moves, and every time, his sword is lightly pressed against your chest and you’re muttering in surrender.
after the fifteenth time of hearing the word again, you drop your sword to the ground and shove him, knocking his sword out of his hands. you break down into tears of frustration, and he’s quick to explain to you that he’s not trying to make you angry—just teach you how to protect yourself.
• usually he’s the one to hold you in his arms and let you speak your mind; he’s usually your rock. but some nights, when maybe a new camper has gotten claimed, or maybe someone got a birthday gift from their godly parent, he’s laying in the crook of your neck as he suppresses his tears against the soft skin there.
he’s talking for hours, babbling about gods know what. you find yourself wondering: how did he go from talking about nick, his newest cabin mate, getting claimed as a child of apollo, to talking about what he would name a dragon? you didn’t mind, because at least now he’s not crying about his father and the stupid quest he’d sent him on.
eventually, after a long day of a fake smile and the stressful teaching of a six hour sparring class, he falls asleep, his last words of “i love you” resting on his lips.
• he’d been happy the entire night—the blue team, his team, had won capture the flag again. he’d had so much fun at the celebration afterwards, (or at least it seemed,) but now it’s time to get ready for bed. it’s 1:30 am, and you’re washing off your makeup in the bathroom mirror when luke comes in, reaching for another rag.
he stands next to you in the mirror, watching your reflection for a moment before his eyes flick over to himself. his jaw clenches, his eyes trailing up and down the left side of his face before he swallows and wets the rag.
he begins to wipe the dirt and grime off his face, slowing down when the cloth traces the scar on his cheek. he drops the rag in the sink and sniffles, walking out of the bathroom and into the bed. once you’re finished, you join him in your room and climb into the bed. you lay down, and he rolls over and rests his face in the crook of his neck.
you wonder why it feels weird for a moment, and then you realize he has his head tilted oddly so that the left side of his face is hiding in the crook of his neck. odd, you think, considering he’d been complaining about neck pain the day before. you lift his head up, hand tracing on his left cheek and he freezes, body tensing.
“luke?” you ask, your eyes searching for a reason to his odd behavior. you look at where your fingers are tracing; on the scar. you understand, and for a moment, you see his eyes fill up with tears.
you swallow and lean forward, pressing a kiss to his scar before resting your forehead against his. he closes his eyes with a pained expression. moments pass, and then he moves to rest his head in the crook of your neck again, but this time he doesn’t hide his scar.
#luke castellan#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan x fem!reader#charlie bushnell#luke castellan x reader fluff#luke castellan x reader smut#luke pjo#percy jackson#percy jackson and the olympians#charlie bushnell x reader#charlie bushnell x reader fluff#luke castellan headcannons
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Good Neighbors | part one
König x Reader
part two part three
CW: reader has feminine pronouns, mostly plan on this just being fluff but will include angst and minor character death in future parts (wanted to give a fair warning just in case it makes you uncomfortable!)
please let me know if I missed anything that should be listed in the warnings though!
also I didn’t edit I’m sorry I’ve re-written this like six times so I just need to get this out haha
With a creak of his bones and a groan, König stretched out in his bed early one morning, wincing at the pull in his left shoulder and the stabbing feeling in his chest with each breath. If those two places hurt less, he probably would’ve noticed the knots in his lower back more but his brain was used to writing out the dull pains his body holds.
As he gotten older, his back has started to hurt more regularly but sleeping on the soft mattress back in his home, well house, only emphasized the pain. House, not home, because he had plans when he had bought this property to turn into a home years ago, make it a side project on times not on mission to create the life he always wanted. Even buying a soft large mattress for the main bedroom, figuring his partner would want a soft mattress, opposite of what he’s used to sleeping on but like the saying goes – soft wife, soft life, and that’s all he would want for his dream wife.
But like the rest of his dream, the house fell to the backburner, a burning reminder on what could’ve been for him but didn’t come to be. If he could’ve made the base his permanent address, he would’ve sold the house already, but unfortunately, his boss said no. He’s held on to it since then, but still, he’s spent most of his time on base, always coming up with a new excuse on why he needed to stay so close to his work.
Unfortunately for König though, he had been sent home on medical leave against his will after a broken rib and an injury to the left shoulder that left his body badly bruised and sore. But to him it was a worse punishment to be forced home for six weeks for rest and rehabilitation with physical therapy before he could officially be let out back onto the field.
Part of him just wishes they would’ve done the surgery to fix his shoulder, instead of waiting to heal on its own. At least then it would’ve had a more distinct schedule of when he can get back to normal, but all he hears from his doctors now is that it’s a low-grade separation, and they hope he should be healed in 6 weeks. We’ll see. He thought to himself as he thanked his doctor gruffly and rolled his neck adjusting to the new brace on shoulder, he’s at least grateful they didn’t force a sling on him, they probably knew he wouldn’t have worn it.
At least the physical therapy for the last two weeks would force him out of the house and into a routine again, but until then? König didn’t know what to do with himself for the next six weeks.
He didn’t have many friends in the area, most of the people he considered close were back on base or getting ready to be sent off on a mission, and there weren’t many people in the neighborhood that he actually knew or spoke to.
The neighborhood was a quiet one, filled with elderly couples, their children already have moved out to have their own families. The older couples would give König a quick smile and wave if they were in their front yards while he was on his way out of the neighborhood, or a jog, but he wasn’t getting invited to the neighbor’s holiday parties. He was okay with that; he didn’t really want to speak with them either. He was fine with just a mutually respectful relationship without them prying into his business.
It was different with his elderly neighbor Carol though. Carol lived at the end of the street with him, across the road from, and from his first day in the neighborhood, she was quick to learn more about the quiet big brute across from her.
“Good morning, König! It’s good to see you!” His elderly neighbor Carol calls from the driver’s window her car with a smile and a wave, idling in front of his driveway. Any other one of his neighbors, he probably would’ve given them a curt nod before turning away from them, but not Carol.
Carol was one of the few bright spots for him in this neighborhood, and one of the few reasons he even did come back to his house at times.
He had done some projects for her over the years, and even while he was gone, he made sure she was still taken care of. Like during the winter, he always made sure she had her driveway plowed, whether it be done by him while he is home, or mistakenly telling the plow truck driver her address instead of his own. He’s helped her keep the gutters clean around her house, cleared the drains at the end of their driveways during any storms, and even helped her clean out the basement when she had some water damage after an issue with her water line.
Carol reminded him of his own grandmother who has since passed and felt it was important to take care of her since he’s never seen any of her own family looking out for her. When he has been invited into her house for meals or to offer his help with projects, he’s seen the numerous family photos, numbers of photos should young children smiling, weddings, and graduations but of all the times he’s been over to help, never once had he heard about any of them visiting her. He can’t help the protectiveness he feels over her, and the frustration he feels thinking about her family just forgetting about her and what he wouldn’t give to be back with his Oma.
“Guten morgen Carol, it’s good to see you, how are you?” König jogging softly over to her from his front steps and meeting her at her car window.
“Ah I’m doing well, but I’m not too sure about you, hm?” She says while eyeing the brace on his shoulder. “I always get so nervous for you, hon, I’m glad you’re home safe though.” She says giving him that maternal look but grabbing his wrist with an endearing squeeze.
“Anyways I’m off to my doctor’s appointment, you’ll have to come by for dinner sometime soon while you’re still home, alright dear?”
“Yes ma’am.” König gives a small smile and nod, knowing she’ll follow up with a call to tell him when he’s supposed to be at her house. She pulls her arm away with a smile, getting ready to put her window back but as König goes to turn back to his mailbox she quickly stops and calls out.
“Oh! And if you see someone pull into my driveway while I’m not home, don’t worry! It’s just my granddaughter. She’s going to be staying with me for a bit, working on some projects around the house. I’ll have to introduce the two of you, she’s just the sweetest!”
König gives her a smile and nod as she pulls away, but he can’t help the feeling of trepidation building up his spine. Granddaughter? He never met any of her grandkids, not that he spent much time at his house, but he spent enough time to know Carol and how she always wished her family visited her more, so why now?
Carol doesn’t need her granddaughter to come over and work on projects around the house, he can do that, he’s been doing them for her for the past couple of years and now he’s even got the time to start the larger projects he promised. He’s looking forward to the dinner with Carol and her granddaughter just so he can figure out why this granddaughter did decide to finally show up.
divider by @/riottsrph (thank you!!)
#konig x reader#könig x reader#konig#könig#könig fluff#konig fluff#könig cod#könig mw2#könig call of duty#könig x you#konig cod#konig call of duty#konig mw2#konig x you#good neighbors
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AITA For Benevolently Providing My Fellow Students With Study Guides?
I'm posting on a throwaway because I have caught my classmates (It is laughably easy, they love gathering in large spaces and 'whispering' loudly about their schemes) looking through my main account on multiple occasions in a search for blackmail, blathering about "freeing their friends" or "avenging their brother" and whatnot. I apologize in advance if you find my formatting or wording cumbersome.
You see, I(17M) greatly enjoy assisting poor, unfortunate souls with whatever they need. Now, I admit that I have partaken in some rather improper behavior in the past, but I have mended my ways. I fortunately know a fair amount about both magic and my fellow classmate's troubles, and I understand that you wish to laugh with the next part - I use my talents to assist the miserable, lonely, and depressed.
Recently, I have taken to assisting my fellow students who are struggling with their Final exams, in the form of study guide guaranteed to garner them a bare minimum of 90 (and if used with maximum efficiency, a perfect score) if they look over it even once.
However, as the landfolk say, "There's no such thing as a free lunch." I don't charge much for my study guides (entirely legitimate, for your information, designed for maximum efficiency and lawfulness by sifting through the past 100 years worth of test questions), in fact, in many cases, I don't charge anything at all. If they manage to earn a grade rewardable with School-provided merits, then, in fact, I shall reward them by not only waiving the fee, but also, by providing them study guides for the rest of their time at school.
However, if they fail to do so, I ask for compensation in the form of providing me some of their time. They were fully aware of this, in fact, I even gave them the chance to look through my (thaumaturgically binding) contracts for as long as they needed before signing.
Now, Finals have concluded recently, and the merits have been displayed. Now, some people are calling me "a cheat", making such audacious claims as "this is slavery" (it is not, they were compensated for their service and they don't have to be loyal to me for their whole lives) and "You guys should have believed me when I told you that brother-killer was bad news" (I have never killed anyone's brothers, I can assure you of this) and, personally, I don't think I'm the 'A', as reddit calls it.
However, my dorm-mate and employee, F, urged me to ask the internet, his reasoning being "It'd be funny" (his words, not mine) while slacking off of work - he had a shift scheduled, and then he seriously threatened to eat me when I scolded him, so I forced him to kneel until he learned his lesson. I then realized that he didn't have a shift scheduled for that day - he had it scheduled for the day *after* - and that I was apparently mildly delirious from not having slept for three days, so as compensation, I doubled his pay and offered him one wish of choice, which he used to tell me to make this post. For that reason, I humbly ask of you now: Am I in the wrong?
#tina rambles#azul ashengrotto#floyd leech#twisted wonderland#shitpost#part two from yours truly#yet i posted this on the twst sub too lmaooo
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Reading through the plumpocalypse, I just want to say I hope your first week at your new job is going ok and only improves from here. And Im glad you got rid of the plums. I think you're right that at some point, like the plums falling off the tree, it is no longer the responsibility of any single person to thoughtfully and nutritionally dispose of that many. Sometimes you've done your best and you're just moving on. And you've certainly put in a valiant effort.
Thank youuuuu. Yeah, this is day three of the new/old job. It’s honestly going fine but I’m having to be really chill about scheduling. They’re flying me to Sacramento next week, so I’m losing a day off to go to the airport then staying in a city that’s slated to be in the 100’s that week. This ended up being okay because I was able to leverage that to getting Saturday off to go to the ren fair with some folks.
To that end though I do not have access to the travel app they use, my flight number, or airline. Or the rental car agency they used. They set a meeting yesterday for today at 9:30am- which is before my shift started- to go over the travel.
So my store manager called me yesterday because I’m supposed to mirror his schedule and told me that we’ll just come in early to make it to the meeting. Then the closer called out sick at 2am. Then we learned the meeting had been switched at 8am on the day of to 10:30am. So we were there an hour too early and now needed to be the closers. Kind’ve just a nightmare.
The manager and I are taking now a four hour break before rereporting for duty at 3:30 and I’m so tired. Once I’m through training I need to get a work accommodation to only do four days a week but I don’t want to draw out my training so I’m trying to wait but I’m feeling a bit ragged.
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Hi!! First, I love your work. Especially for the Marines.
Second I saw requests were open so I decided to shoot my shot.
Admirals (any admiral you want to write for) trying to get their s/o to return Sengoku’s goat, like reader of fed up not getting cuddles from their busy admiral partner so has stolen the goat for cuddles and is refusing to give it back.
I just thought it was a cute idea. And now that I think about it I can’t remember the name of Sengoku’s goat.
Anyway, you are amazing, stay hydrated and I hope you have a nice day.
Marine Admirals React to You Harboring Sengoku’s Goat
Characters: Akainu, Kizaru, Fujitora
Taglist: @portalzoneschaos
This was so adorable to think about, I hope it wrote it right though. Thank you so much for being here and requesting, Have a nice day and be safe. <3
Akainu | Sakazuki
• At first he would disregard your reasoning behind stealing Sengokus goat, his first instinct is to chide you and get you to return it but much to his surprise, you don’t listen, and simply turn away to coddle the animal closer to you.
“ I said you need to give it back. “
You could feel heat of his devil fruit begin to fill the room at your refusal of his command. He stood with arms folded over his chest, the tightness of his teeth clenching together creating a grating noise.
“ And I said no! Just because you don’t get lonely doesn’t mean I don’t! “ The brash tone of your voice as you asserted yourself shocked him, and briefly his brows unfurled before he knelt down. He was silent, watching as you hid your face and only held the animal closer and coiled into a tight ball on your bed.
“ Use your words. Tell me what’s wrong. “ He spoke in a firm tone, but you knew he was trying to decode your behavior. Sometimes he was just emotionally constipated..
“ I’m lonely. You’re always gone and.. I miss you. “ Your tone dropped at the end and transitioned to a mumble, barely audible which made his frown deepen. You fought not to make eye contact when he didn’t respond, but got sidetracked when his hand softly pushed through your locks as he leaned down to leave a kiss.
“ I know I don’t have much time on my hands. There’s not much I can do about it. So how can I fix it? “ He sat attentively in front of you now, legs crossed and hands resting on his knees as he watched you sit up.
“Well.. maybe you could make allotted times to call me.. I miss your voice a lot.” You timidly spoke as your hands fidgeted at the request, bracing yourself for another excuse only for him to briefly nod.
“ I’ll look at my schedule and work it in. That way, it’s not impacting work and we have some form of time together. Is that fair ? “
“ … Yes. “
“ Good…. Now please get the goat off of our bed and out of the house. “
Kizaru | Borsalino
• Gets jealous of the goat-
• He would profusely apologize to you for being so busy, and obviously he would feel alittle guilty, but his Justice means that when he’s told to do something he does it. So in many ways work comes first, however….. he offers you something to help ease your anxiety about being alone.. ;)
The house was dark as usual when Kizaru slipped in, his coat slung over his shoulder and hand grazing the back of his neck as he rubbed it in fatigue. He almost managed to sit on you until a warning bleat startled him from his thoughts, and you from your slumber.
“ Shh !! “ You soothed the goat, rubbing its neck as you looked up to the source of its panic. Kizaru stood motionless, sighing deeply as he pushed the glasses back up that slipped to the tip of his nose from gazing down at you.
“ Why is there a goat on the couch? “
“ Because he was wandering around and looked lonely, and he pays more attention to me then you do. “ You muttered the last part, smiling when Kizarus hand playfully ruffled your hair.
He took a seat beside you, his smile growing when you curled into his side and hugged him, relieved at finally getting to feel him next to you. When you did manage to get attention it was in the later hours of the night, only to wake up again to the vacant spot next to you in the early mornings. It wasn’t easy being an Admirals spouse, in fact it was alittle lonely at times. But there were tid bits of moments where you were inseparable, and all you could do was appreciate each others presence.
This was one of them.
“ I miss you so much throughout the day. It’s so.. lonely here, the house is huge and it feels like I’m just some tiny bug.. “ A sigh breezed past your lips and you leaned into the warmth of his shoulder as he hummed in response, wrapping an arm around you as he leaned in to kiss your head.
He remained silent, his hand absentmindedly stroking your hair until he spoke.
“ … I could always get you pregnant- “
“ BORSALINO ? “ You shouted in confusion and astonishment, immediately pulling away which had startled the goat who bolted from the couch. A low, sultry chuckle escaped his lips as he rested his head on the back of the couch agian and closed his eyes, spreading his wing span along the top of the furniture.
“ Just a thought.. “
Fujitora | Issho
• I feel he would honestly be alittle sad that he let you get so lonely, his poor heart would break at the thought of you feeling so alone that you needed to focus your attention on something else.
• His solution would most likely be buying a pet <3
When he arrived home he noted how quiet it was while slipping his shoes off. As he traveled deeper into your home he heard you stifle a small sniffle, which immediately broke his heart in two.
“ Oh my poor dear, “ He reached out to touch you only to feel horns and a soft furry face that began to snuff at his fingers. You couldn’t help but laugh when he retracted quickly, his eyes opening with a visibly disturbed look appearing on his face.
When you made room for him to sit he instead pulled you into his lap and cupped your face. The feeling of the course pads of his thumbs running along your cheeks made them flush and you unconsciously leaned into his touch, tears subconsciously falling and collecting on his hands.
“ Poor thing.. I know I haven’t been home in so long.. how did you even manage to get uh… did you get a pet ? “
“ It’s Sengokus goat.. I’m not gonna give it back until you promise me I won’t be lonely anymore.. “ You shakily spoke, eyes still closed as he leaned in to kiss your forehead and wipe the tears that flowed away.
“ … Well.. I can’t guarantee that you won’t have moments alone.. So how about this, let’s go buy a pet. That way, when I’m away, you have someone to wait with. “
“ Any pet I want ? “
“ Any pet you want… just not Sengoku’s. “
#one piece admirals#one piece#one piece writing#one piece marines#fujitora x reader#fujitora issho#op fujitora#fujitora fluff#one piece fujitora#admiral fujitora#admiral akainu#akainu sakazuki#akainu x reader#op akainu#one piece akainu#one piece kizaru#op kizaru#admiral kizaru#kizaru op#kizaru borsalino#kizaru x reader#akainu fluff#kizaru fluff#op marines#op marine admirals
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The (ephimeral) success of solo projects on Chapter 2
I wanted to write a post about chapter 2 and Jimin, the "sabotages"... but I don't know if I'm able to sort out the facts and my ideas or judgements about them properly. Nothing is clear to me yet.
There are days when a part of me believes that something is going on with Jimin and Hybe (or BH, I don't know which). But there's another part, the rational part, the part that works as an economist for 20 years, that knows that it doesn't make much sense for a for-profit company to boycott one of its most valuable assets.
In the Executive Boards, and in financial planning, decisions are made on the basis of economical evidence, which is always provided by current numbers (or estimates), not by the heart. Maybe even in the case of BTS there is some sense of fairness, I would say, at the outset. And not an asymmetric distribution according to profit projections.
In the trade-off I find myself in, I would like to share the following thoughts:
- I have recently realised that Chapter 2 is not the chapter of their solo career. It is the chapter of their solo work, which is slightly different.
- Most of them has a short time to promote their work. The average has been a "several weeks" window.
- Their success is therefore somewhat short-lived or ephimeral. It appears and within weeks it seems to fade away, eclipsed by the next in line. The nex king of "k-..."
- There is no intention of promoting a structured solo career, because 1) BTS have said (a million times) that they will be back in 2025, and 2) if we are to take them at their word, the boys will all be joining the military before the end of 2023.
- So, there is no long-term vision to support "some" and not "others".
- The support is focused on a specific work. The only exception to a more continuous commitment has been Suga and his tour.
- Everyone has their budget, their schedule, their activities for the year...
- And yes, there can be different intensities of promotional activities, depending on the defined strategy or budget or goal or whatever (we don't know the whole story because the company doesn't explain anything to us). There is a rumour that some have even put their money into some activities. But I don't know how true that is.
- And I think they all have a say in the design of their promotions, even if they don't design them themselves.
So then....I can't take the agency away from any of them.
They are the best advocates or defenders within the company. And if one of them had less influence, which I doubt, the others would not remain silent without solving the problem. Or how do we think a commitment from the 7 of them to the 7 of them is achieved to keep BTS as a unified group? There are no weak links in this group. And if there were, I wouldn't bet my money that Jimin is one of them.
Once again, there are things that I can't explain and I'd like to know what's going on (the lack of restocking, the split of Spotify streaming, the deletion of sales...). But if there really have been damaging mistakes or strategies for any of them, I hope that when the next contract comes up for renewal, they will sort it out very thoroughly. Cause this cant happen anymore.
To tell you the truth, I blame the company for many things, and one of them - as serious as their lack of planning - is their lack of communication with the fans. BeautifulPeach has talked about this in some of her posts.
At some point in its growth, Hybe became too big to fail, or whatever, and forgot about certain corporate social responsibility obligations. One of them is to talk to its most important stakeholders: the customers, i.e. the fans. And addressing some of their concerns.
Investors are important in listed companies, but customers are important too. Always.
And if they don't see it that way and continue to despise the fans (clients) in that way, then at the end “future is not gonna be ok”.
And yes, I know that K-pop is controversial. It's clear that they can't deal with every rumour, every silly trend that comes out every day on twitter, ships, solos demands, etc. But there are things that they can deal with. And some of the Jimin's events when Face happened are one of them.
A bit of transparency would be appreciated. I expect it, actually, at some point (maybe when this chapter ends).
Maybe there will be things that could be explained as commercial strategy (do they want us to buy Face instead of the single LC, for example? And that's why they're not stocking it again?). But they might also be telling us about certain difficulties. Or about certain forecasting mistakes. Or how they learned from some of them. I'm pretty sure they learned a lot from Jimin's Face era.
I don't think I will be able to judge everything that has happened until at least the end of this year, when all the solo works have been completed/released.
And I'll have to keep listening to Bongo to see if he still talks about how they are more interested in being a company that has groups rather than individual singers. Maybe that is why it seems there's a ceiling to individual success. There is nothing better than capping success with time limitation of activities ("Let's see if that makes the fans forget what solo members are capable of")
And even then, there will be differences between all of them. Quite a lot.
But we will also have to consider that they are different artists with different goals, sensibilities, objectives and situations (let's not forget that JK himself, who now seems quite greedy, has admitted that he needed and enjoyed his free time and Seven had to come along to give him a boost). So we should be careful with the comparison too.
Perhaps Jin will end up getting the most promotions when he comes out, considering how little time he has had. Poor Jin…😔 He had to wait until the end of the year to enlist, despite the bad weather, to give us the Busan concert. It was a commitment to BTS, but it was a short of individual sacrifice too… you know..they do these things for BTS.
I would also like to listen to them (yes, it's a bit ambitious on my part, but I would like to listen to Jimin and his feelings, at the end of this year... will he open up to us?)
In conclusion, I would say that if we are BTS fans and want to remain so, and if we believe in the boys' words .... I would advise us to enjoy every moment they give us for their limited time. Every campaign, every song, every vlive... and try to find an atmosphere of caution given the situation we are in.
And by that I mean that we should also be able to read that we are in the age of solos and akages. All the information about grievances or leaks that comes out usuarlly comes from the same places.
And I'm not saying it's FALSE! Nor do I mean to belittle it! Just that sometimes we should take into account the intentions behind. And before we react, let's consider the source and the context. Look at what happened to the RNX journalist we all spent almost a day reporting on for a bad translation. Or look at how, in less than two weeks, two CCTV vids of Jimin shopping with a friend (one of them clearly with Saeon) suddenly appeared just as it became known that he was going to NY with JK.
Anyway, I will be a bit cautious for now. There are still a few months until the end of the year. A lot can still happen.
Jimin could came back again to us with sth as amazing as Like Crazy. Or even better, an album.
I miss Jimin and want to see him shine again and talking to us.
And I miss jikook……arrrggg
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Hello everyone. It’s been a long long time since I posted here but I guess life has caught up. I have been writing this chapter for god knows how long because I just couldn’t bring myself to write certain scenes. I still have so many ideas and directions about where this fic can go but as you understand, I need my time to actually try and write those ideas. I am now giving you the 8th chapter of this story which is a generous 14.6 K words to make up for my long long absence. I really hope there will be people still interested to read this. Always keep in mind that english isn’t my native language so pardon any mistakes or inclarities. I hope you will enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Wait patiently for the next part. Take Care, xx.
All’s Fair
(Toto Wolff x Reader) Chapter 8
chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4 chapter 5 chapter 6 chapter 7
Landing in Jeddah feeling like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders, after closing the deal with the Bahraini investors from your Monday meeting, is the only thing you could have asked for. Nothing has been bothering you for the past few days but the fact that Christian still hasn't said anything about you being late to your meeting, made you feel a little weird. Your little text exchanges with Toto made up for the whole madness.
As soon as your phone connects to the network you see a new notification popping up.
Christian Dad Horner
No need to come over today, I got everything scheduled for the press, me and Helmut will handle it
Get some rest.
You raise your eyebrow reading , not knowing what your father is up to. Is he drunk? Is he out of his mind? You lock your phone and get off the plane. You check in your hotel, go to your room and settle in. As you take your clothes off your suitcase you find once again Toto’s Mercedes shirt in it and you take it out and put it on a hanger and in your closet. Thursdays are supposed to be a fun day in the paddock because of all the media and generally relaxed vibe that everyone has. The fact that no sessions take place on Thursdays doesn’t mean everyone isn’t working hard but still Christian thought your presence was not necessary, so here you are. Your phone rings with a new notification
Wolff
What’s your schedule for the press today?
You
Christian told me he and Helmut will handle it, I won’t be joining today
I am just bored, sitting in my hotel room
You open the camera on the app and snap a picture of your computer on your bed and some snacks nearby and you hit send
Wolff
So you get to relax.
Enjoy it for all of us who have to work
You
Will do :)
You spend the rest of your day in your room and meet Max to grab dinner at the hotel restaurant. Much less eventful for a usual race week Thursday.
The next day you wake up, have breakfast and get ready to leave for the track. You check you have everything you need with you including your iPad and your badge to get in the paddock and you drive the Aston Martin, you lease for the weekend, to the track. You get to the entrance and scan your badge. To your surprise the screen in front of you shows a red cross and a message saying ‘Access Denied’. You try once again but the same message appears. You reach for your phone to call Christian to get you from the entrance. You wait for a couple of seconds before you hear his voice, the noise from the garage familiar to your ears.
“Hey Dad”
“Hello” you hear him answering
“It seems like my pass isn’t working, can you please come here and let me through?” you ask
“Oh I am quite busy right now sweetheart.”
“Can you send someone else instead?”
“Um, I am sorry I have to tell you this but there’s a reason why your pass isn’t working.”
“What ?”
“It is going to remain like this for sometime, before I trust you to come back to the team”
“Did you cancel my pass because of what happened on Monday?”
“You should have been ready for this. I can’t discuss it more right now, we are having a meeting before FP1”
“Can you at least let me know about the meeting?”
“No, you are not in the team currently so, nothing to share. Feel free to fly back to England or Monaco with the next flight you find” Christian tells you and then ends the call.
Thank god you thought about moving a bit further from the entrance so no one heard your discussion with your father. You feel a rush of anger coming at you but you hold yourself and walk as gracefully as you can back to your car, as people are watching you. You drive off the track and you pull over at the first parking space you see. You sit there in silence, since you were so confused that you didn’t even think to put some of your playlists on, and you try to realize what is happening. You let out a scream and tears roll over your face as you think of your father and all his five year old antics. But then you get the best and the worst idea you could possibly come up with. You drive fast back to your hotel and you run to your suite. You open the closet, grab Toto’s Mercedes shirt, stuff it in your new bag that you haven’t worn in public, put on some tight black pants, some flat shoes and search furiously for that Mercedes face mask that Toto gave you that day in your travel bag. You get back to your car and drive to the track again, pulling over to wear the shirt and making yourself look like a mercedes employee. You leave the car a bit farther than usual so that fans don’t recognize you coming out of the car with the Mercedes gear. You once again walk to the paddock entrance. Hair tied on a bun, face mask and huge Gucci sunglasses covering your face. You get there not having thought of a way to get in. So you go with your instincts.
“Hey” you say to the security guard.
“Hi, how may I help you?”
“Um, I am a new employee for Mercedes but I can’t seem to find my badge to get in.” you say with the best American accent that you have. Not that it mattered since the guard was Saudi Arabian. “Can you maybe call Mr. Wolff to come here? I’ll explain the situation to him”
“I’ll reach Mr Lord.” he says
“No, no. You should call Mr.Wolff instead. I am not sure Mr. Lord is aware of my arrival here.”
“I’ll try to call Mr. Wolff then.”
5 minutes later you see the Austrian walking to the entrance of the paddock and on his way there he waves to people, greets others and takes some photos.
He goes to the security guard that called him
“What is it?” he asks
“This lady claimed that she’s a new employee for your team but she seems to have lost her badge, she insisted that I should call you instead of Mr. Lord.”
Toto turns to look at you and you don’t hesitate. If you are going to get in, this is your chance.
“Hello Mr. Wolff. My name is Mindy Roosevelt, I am here from the American branch of Daimler.” you say-again in your american accent- not being even 1% sure that you are making any sense. “I was sent here to assist you but it has been a really tricky week for me.” you look at Toto and he looks as confused as ever. “I was supposed to be here yesterday but my flight was canceled so I had to travel to Abu Dhabi to catch a connecting flight.” you try to give him hints of who you are, not being sure he understands. “ I had to look for the advisor of Daimler US Anri Hakkassan to give me my badge but then my wallet got stolen at the airport so I was left without a badge and my ID to show you who I am.” you see Toto’s eyes getting wider and wider as he realizes who you are. Your story seemed convincing for the security guard but Toto can’t leave you outside. He takes a deep breath
“Ah yes miss Roosevelt I was waiting for you all day. Sorry to hear this. Come on.” he says and signals to the guard to let you through. You walk in the paddock and to the Mercedes hospitality, Toto not hesitating for a minute at the thought of you coming from another team. As soon as you both get in you see Bradley drinking coffee in the main lounge area of the motorhome and he greets you.
“I don’t want anyone bothering me for the next half an hour at least” he says to Bradley and he walks to his office as you follow him closely. You close the door behind you and Toto reaches and locks it. You take off your mask trying to apologize for the mess you’ve created.
“I am so sorry Toto” you say and you hear him laugh
“What is this?” he asks as he continues laughing
“Are you mad at me?”
“No, I am just wondering how the hell you got yourself in this situation.”
“Christian blocked my paddock pass”
“He did what?” he asks looking slightly amused
“This isn’t funny Toto, you know how much I love being in the team”
“That’s why you are hijacking my team?” he asks
“Christian thought that removing me from the team for a couple of races is a good way to punish me for being late at that meeting we had.”
“He did it just because you were 35 minutes late?”
“You don’t realize Christian has a mind of a five year old when it’s about work right?”
“You said the investors were not mad that you were late, you even managed to charm them into signing a deal.”
“Yeah but Christian was mad, and he says it’s not about the investment, it’s about basic work ethic. Anyways, I can’t buy a paddock pass because I am not the type to sit in the lounge to watch the race. I need to be in the team. Plus I can’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me depressed because I am not at the pitwall or the garage.”
“How stubborn.”
“Yeah I am.”
“That’s very Horner of you.” he tells you and you roll your eyes at his obvious reference to your father’s stubbornness.
“You are my only chance Toto, the other teams don’t even have a reason to accept me, except from Alpha Tauri, but I can’t go begging Franz about a paddock pass when he is clearly influenced by my dad.”
“Why are we even your only chance, we are your main competitors.” he asks
“I swear to god Toto I will do anything just to be here until Christian decides to drop the farce that he started. I will sign an NDA, I will keep my mouth shut about anything I see, I will delete it from my mind. Just let me be in the garage for the next few races.”
“How many races?” he looks at you
“I don’t know 3 maybe 4?” you tell him barely whispering.
“That’s a lot.” he replies “But for you I’ll try to do my best.”
You try not to scream as you stand up from your seat, walk to his chair and hug him. You catch him off guard as he widens his eyes but then you feel his tension leaving him.
“From now on you are Mindy Roosvelt and you came here to assist me as a part of your internship at Daimler US. You studied in New York, and you are American. You don’t know for how many races you’ll be here but it’s not long term.” Toto says taking his teacher look
“Understood.”
“You should never remove your mask in front of others, just tell them that you are at risk or something. Don’t wear high heels. We should do something about your hair so that people won’t realize it’s you and I advise you to wear sunglasses as much as possible, I’ll have Lewis hand me his collection from the Police Collaboration.”
“I’ll buy a wig. Can I have some more shirts and a couple of masks?”
“Is this shirt mine?” he asks and you nod “Looks good on you.” he says
“I’ll use yours then.” you tell him and you see him grinning.
“I’ll have someone send you a couple of shirts, pants and shoes. I'll request your new paddock pass and I will be printing your NDA.”
“If anything leaks into Red Bull I swear I’ll be the first to go to court even if I am innocent.” you tell him and he laughs “Don’t laugh, I need you to see how serious I am about this. I won’t be saying anything to anyone.”
“I trust you. The NDA part is only about the team having to be legally protected.”
“Okay” you say
“Your office must be ready. It’s just the room next door, please lock it when you’re in.” he advises you “And please don’t forget your American accent once you go outside.”
“I won’t forget. If we happen to see Christian around, just stay calm, I’ll handle it.”
“Okay” he says and you sit in silence for a couple of minutes.
“I’ll go next door now.” you say and you stand up. “Oh sorry Toto, can I ask you about one last thing?”
“What is it?”
“Christian told me that I am free to leave with the next flight so I will be checking out of the hotel and I thought maybe I should be at the Mercedes hotel?”
“I’ll arrange it. See you later.” he replies as you put on your mask and go to the room next door.
20 minutes later you hear the door knocking, you stand up and reach for it
“Who is this?”
“Miss Roosevelt, I am Mariah. Mr. Wolff gave me something for you.”
You put your mask on and open the door
“Come on in.” you tell her and she steps into your fake office
“I have this new iPad for you, Toto wanted you to have this. It has all of the passwords you’ll need and direct access to Toto’s schedule so you’ll know where you will be going and what you’ll be doing.”
“What passwords are there?”
“Company email, team communications and private accounts.”
“Okay thank you Mariah.”
“If you need anything else please do not hesitate to ask me, have a nice day.” she tells you and she leaves the office as you lock the door and remove your mask
You reach for your phone and text Toto
You
Didn’t need to have access to all of this
Wolff
You have to If we are planning this lie correctly.
I also sent you the details on your company email about the hotel room. I arranged it.
You
Give me a minute I’ll have to get used to all of this.
The iPad is nice, I’ll give it back once I get all the details.
Wolff
Adaptability is key
Keep the iPad I don’t want you walking around the paddock with your old one, it’s practically a part of your looks, everyone will realize it’s you
Wolff
Anyways gotta work, I will be in the garage with Nyck for FP1, you’re welcome to hang by the fantasy island if you ever get the energy.
For any question just text or call.
You sit around for a while until your phone rings with a new notification from your calendar for the session starting in 5 minutes and as soon as you get it you stand up and leave for the garage. This time though it feels different. You used to take all your stuff with you in your pit wall seat but now there’s no pitwall seat, you’ll be just standing next to Toto, in the garage. You never got to stay in the garage, Christian always made sure you had a place at the pitwall, the garage was essentially a passage to get from the hospitality to the pitwall. You never spent a whole session in there, but now you will. The difference is the garage is not the one you are used to. It’s the Mercedes one and it’s clean, organized and much more hospitable than the one at Red Bull. At the long entrance of the garage there’s someone looking at you, making sure that you’re one of them. Little does he know, you think.
“I am looking for Mr. Wolff.” you tell him
“He’s sat at the fantasy island with Nyck. You’ll see them once you get in.”
And you certainly do. The fantasy island splits the garage in two smaller ones for the two drivers of Mercedes, you get next to Toto and you don’t say a word. You look around you trying to take everything in, how the garage looks, how everyone is focused on what they’re doing and Toto next to you trying to manage everything that’s happening. He’s too far in to realize that you’re next to him and he nearly jumps as you touch his arm.
“Sorry” you say quietly behind your mask.
“It’s okay, I never realized that you came.”
“Well, I couldn’t turn down the proposal, plus I am supposed to be your assistant so I have to be with you.”
“I am not complaining.” he says and thank god Nyck is too busy chatting with Bradley next to you. Bradley hasn’t asked anything about you, he just keeps looking and staring at you but he’s not saying anything.
For the next half an hour you see Lewis and George doing their laps, coming and leaving the garage during the session but during all this time you realize that you haven’t looked at the RedBull’s performances. The Mercedes garage felt like home for some reason. You weren’t doing nothing, you were just standing with your headphones on hearing comments about the car that you swear to yourself that you will never reveal to your team. Next to you Toto sits and watches the whole team working like a well oiled machine that he engineered. You are sure that he feels proud of himself, he has that grin on his face that makes you think so. You don’t know him really well but you have learned to pick some of those signs from the times that you’ve seen him around or that you’ve hung out with him. Again all of your thoughts are interrupted by a vibration from your pocket where your phone is. Goddamn it. Another calendar reminder but this time it is from Toto’s calendar that you’ve managed to sync to your iPhone earlier.
Meeting: Team Principals, FIA and F1. (1 assistant is allowed to attend)
You widen your eyes at the notification and you tap Toto’s shoulder who is watching the timings and the data in front of him. He turns to look at you and removes the headphone from your side. You do the same but you realize Nyck is looking at you.
“Sir, I just got a notification about your meeting with the F1 and FIA execs.”
“It is half an hour after the session ends right?”
“Yes but am I required to attend?” you ask
“Miss Roosevelt I believe that you were asked to be here as my assistant so since the meeting allows assistants it is your duty to be there.”
“Okay Mr. Wolff” you say and put your headphones back on to watch the rest of the session.
“If you feel uncomfortable just excuse yourself and leave.” he turns and tells you and you nod.
After the session in which your cars -yes, Mercedes cars- finish 1 and 3 you leave the garage and go back to the hospitality while waiting for Toto to finish his press duties.
Wolff
I am done with my interviews, meet you outside our hospitality in 5?
You
Yes, I will be there.
You leave and find him at the spot he told you to. You walk side by side to the race control building where the meeting is supposed to take place, him towering over you and you feeling miniscule beside him. When you are just outside Alpha Tauri’s garage you see your dad discussing with Franz and you roll your eyes praying that they will just let you go by. You get temporarily relieved when you are already past them but of course Christian has to talk to you. The man is trouble without trying. You hear him yelling “Hey Toto” from your back and you turn to face him. Toto frowns a bit but his expressions are mostly covered by his sunglasses.
“Are you heading to the meeting?” Christian asks
“We are, yes.” Toto replies as you keep walking, Christian catching up with you. You take a sharp breath trying to persuade yourself that he won’t understand who you are. You’ve got your face covered after all.
“I’ll join you.” Christian announces not even asking Toto who is clearly getting angrier. “I don’t believe we’ve met before” he says and turns to you.
You freeze but you regain your strength and reply to him “No, we actually haven't.”
“I am Christian Horner, team principal of Red Bull Racing.”
“Mindy Roosevelt, nice to meet you.” you say in your best American accent hoping that you won’t get recognized.
“And you work for Mercedes I see. Let me guess’ Public Relations?”
“No, I am here to assist Mr. Wolff for a couple of races, it is something like an internship from the American branch of Daimler.”
“I figured from the accent that you might be American.” Christian replies “Are you planning on staying at Daimler or leaving to get a job at motorsport?”
“I don’t know yet I’ll see where it gets me.” you answer
“If you plan on staying here please text me your details, I got a very interesting assistant position for you.”
“You had your daughter as your assistant from the beginning of the season, what happened to her?” you ask, trying to understand what he’s doing but you hear his phone ringing.
“It’s complicated with her, I need something stable, and I know Wolff always gets the best of the best so I might have to get a taste.” he replies as Toto, who was silent before, scoffs in the background. Christian checks his phone and excuses himself as he runs back to the Alpha Tauri hospitality center.
You let out a breath that you didn’t realize you were holding as you are walking to the meeting.
“Red Bull will be trying to have technical directives for the next few races to try and stop us.” Toto says.
“I know, I built that case and all the arguments. I know exactly what to say to convince the FIA in favor of Red Bull.” you reply “Can I talk during the meeting?” you ask
“What do you mean talk?”
“Like defending our team’s points, why technical directives shouldn’t be changed, and counterarguments.”
“No, your role is the one of the assistant, not the meeting participant. You will only be allowed there to keep notes.”
“I can write my points to you and you can read them and elaborate more, can’t I?”
“Yes, you can write notes for me to read.”
“Nice, let’s get no regulation change for today.”
“Isn’t this bad for Red Bull?”Toto asks
“Right now I am working for Mercedes, and Mercedes is only treating me right.” you answer
Toto raises his eyebrows “I am both flattered and surprised by the fact that you want to favor us.”
“You know what Toto? I am tired of thinking how Christian and Helmut will be using my case to present in this meeting. I worked hard for this and I was supposed to present my point. This meeting was supposed to be my first one.”
“Didn’t you go when you were younger?”
“No, I didn’t Christian always had his assistant with him and never managed to get me in even when I started working part-time for him. It is frustrating to see how your own father looks to replace you at a job. And now the team that I accidentally got in, even has the ability to read my notes and present a solid case.”
Toto doesn’t say anything, he just looks at you, his body language revealing that he is scared to say anything to you.
“Am I really that bad?” you ask
“No. Don’t you ever say that again. You were great, you got a deal with some investors, you helped run a team and you are doing a good job at even being an assistant in the team you probably hated the most.”
10 minutes later you are already sitting at a long table. Toto is sitting on your left. You take your new iPad and a Mercedes notepad with a matching pen and rest it on the conference table in front of you as team principals and other officials are taking their seats to start the meetings. Once everyone is gathered there Stefano starts the meeting with all the formalities needed the conversation starts and after a while you start discussing the burning issue. You open your updated document that you had created this morning with all the arguments and the possible answers that could be said from Mercedes’ side, those ones you hadn’t given to your father. This was only to help your presentation to get the regulations changed but now you are using it for the opposite reason. Christian finishes presenting all the planned points and it’s time for Toto to express his opinion. You managed to write a couple of things on paper and showed him some of the points that he needs to discuss. The man has done this countless times you’re sure but he’s totally letting you handle this.
“Okay, this is an answer to Christian’s concerns about how the regulations right now are not in the right direction. I do not have an exact answer to each and every point of Christian’s speech but I will be trying to get most of them.” he says and glances at the paper in front of him “I’ll start by Christian’s point that the issue affects multiple teams, when in fact it’s not even the majority of the grid that faces the issue that you are aiming to get changed. I can’t see the reason for the regulation change, clearly it’s not that dangerous to drivers health according to doctors and also it would be a huge waste of our resources to just redesign certain aspects of the car when we have the budget cap this year. That’s how I see it.” Toto finishes his monologue and all the eyes are on him.
“Clearly there will be a vote for this.” Stefano says
“Thank you for the notes.” Toto says turning to you and you nod back
Later on the vote takes place and the results are the ones that you expected. That means increased performance from Mercedes and Red Bull chasing them right behind. In other circumstances you would be fuming but now you are happy Mercedes got the chance to stop the regulation changes with your help. The meeting ends and you lobby around for a little longer but afterwards you are back to the paddock walking to the garage for the second practice session. Toto walks by your side and you feel he wants to ask you about what happened there but before he can you inform him you will need some time in your office and you leave him behind.
You get back to your office and you text your friend Sara who lives in Monaco
You
Are you in Monaco?
Sara
Of course I am in Monaco.
The question is where are you?
You
Issues with dad, he won’t let me enter the paddock because I was late in a business meeting and now he removed me from the team
Still in Jeddah though
Listen, I need a favor from you and your magic contacts in Monaco
Sara
I don’t wish to know more about the dad-daughter drama
But I am here to help you with whatever you want
You
I need a place to stay in Monaco
Sara
You can crash on mine or I’ll book you a hotel
You
I am thinking more of an apartment tbh
Sara
How long do you plan on staying here?
You
Permanently?
Sara
OMG, you’ll become a fellow Monegasque?
I will be in contact with my estate agent
You
Yes, I am planning to finally start living in Monaco. I don’t even know if Christian will take me back to the team to be honest but even if he does I can still live in Oxfordshire or in my apartment in London.
Sara
How fast do you need it?
You
As soon as possible please
You lock your phone as you take a deep breath to realize the decision that you just took. Moving to Monaco has always been your dream, since you have been to the Grand Prix there you fell in love with the place and you have spent quite some time in Sara’s house during the summer when you were younger. But now you want to do this alone, you want to feel independent in the country that you loved so much. You immediately think of contacting your father. You decide email is the best option. If he wants to be a bitch so will you
Hello father,
I am sending this email to inform you about my decisions. I will be moving to Monaco in the next couple of weeks, on my own. I believe I will be able to make my own living with the money I currently have. I am requesting my last paycheck from the team since I have been fired and I am not aware of your intentions to hire me back or not. I wish that my personal space in our estate in Oxfordshire remains unchanged in case I am able to return to my obligations to the team, and I inform you that the apartment in London will still be mine. I am still in Saudi Arabia arranging my flight to Monaco. I will be quite busy during the next few weeks so I will not be able to contact you. Should you decide that I am able to come back to the team please inform me.
Wishing you the best.
And send.
You go back to the garage 20 minutes in the session and you spot Toto sitting alone at the top of the fantasy island wearing a pair of headphones while another one is resting on the desk in front of him. You go to his right and check the timings. Currently Mercedes 1-2. He looks at you and removes the headset so he can listen. He hands you the spare headset.
“Isn’t this Nyck’s?” you ask
“No this is yours, Nyck is not joining us at this session.”
“Thank you” you say and you wear the headphones
During the rest of the session Toto shows you all the graphs about the car performance as well as all the communications systems in the team. You are convinced that he is not supposed to do that, it’s knowledge that an assistant could live without knowing and wouldn’t affect their job but still he seems so invested in letting you understand how the team works. This experience is not about gathering information for Red Bull, you think. It’s more about how a team should be and how correct management is done. Something that you feel is missing from Red Bull. The session finishes and Lewis and George are back to the garage with another top 3 finish for the team.
As soon as your day ends you drive your Aston Martin back to the Red Bull hotel, pack your baggage, check out and drive to the airport where you are supposed to leave the car. When you manage to do so you go to the car rental area of the airport and visit the kiosk of the company Toto texted you about and get the keys to a brand new Mercedes AMG. Shortly after that you get dressed with your Mercedes gear once again and drive to the Ritz-Carlton to check into your new room.
Turns out Toto has not only arranged a room for you but it’s also a huge fucking suite that you’re sure most Mercedes employees wouldn’t even consider having. You take a look at the suite and you open the closet door to find it full of Mercedes team shirts, hilfiger pants and the usual Mercedes designed puma shoes. You snap a picture of the closet and you decide to document those weeks of alternate reality that you are currently living in.
When the anxiety of the weirdest day you’ve lived wears off you check your phone for your newest messages
Sara
Gerard just reached out to me.
He has a wonderful loft 2,5 km from the Quartier Du Port.
Generally peaceful location
Sea views as well
Let me know if you want to see it.
You
If you can go there and get some pictures please do. Thank you <3
After that long day you realize that you didn’t get the chance to have a proper meal so you decide to order room service to finally eat something. You think of how pathetic it would look if you eat alone in this huge suite and before you can even cope with that thought you reach for your phone and call Toto. He picks up after 2 rings
“Hello” he says
“Hi, how’s everything?”
“Good, I am getting ready to go downstairs to the restaurant to have dinner, how are you?” “Oh same I was thinking of getting some room service for dinner since I can’t actually go to the restaurant to eat, but the suite is big enough to not feel restricted in one room. Thanks for that by the way.”
“I am sure you’ve only lived in suites for the whole year now so I thought why not. Don’t let the rest of the team know that though.” he says and you hear his laugh on the phone. You stay quiet and he does the same but when you actually decide to say something he speaks again “Maybe we can have dinner together now” he says.
“That’s why I called you in the first place” you admit, but you think you definitely sound a bit in despair. “I can’t order food for two people though it might seem weird.”
“You can come over to my suite, I’ll make sure that it will look as if I am having a meeting with either James or Shov.” he suggests
“Is it okay?” you ask again
“Definitely, I will be ready in 10, suite 264. See you.” he says and terminates the call.
You take a look at the closet trying to decide what to wear. You choose a graphic t-shirt and your most comfortable pants paired with your white sneakers, the only flat pair of shoes that you carried with you. You take a look at the mirror, readjust your hair, put on a nude lipstick and after 10 minutes you are finally ready to leave. You put on your mask because your goal for today isn’t getting caught from walking in some hotel corridor and you navigate your way to suite 264, you knock on the door and Toto is right there letting you in. He’s wearing a pair of black sweats and a gray T-shirt but he is barefoot.
“Hey” you say and you walk in the suite looking around. It does look like your suite when it comes to furniture but the rooms are a little more private. There’s a desk that has turned out to be more like Toto’s office for the weekend. You sit on the couch while he closes the door behind you and walks in the living room. You take your mask off and sit there looking at the ceiling. Toto stands in front of you with a menu card in hand.
“I was thinking, maybe pasta?” he tells you
“That’s what I planned to order today.” you laugh as Toto reaches for the phone on the table next to the couch and orders 2 plates of pasta ai funghi with two glasses of red wine.
“They’ll be here in 30 minutes” he tells you
“Great” you reply and stand up. You look at the place around you, stand up and walk to the desk. You sit on the only chair there and you put on his round glasses and put on your serious face as you move your fingers on the mousepad of his mac which -to your surprise- is unlocked so you are able to navigate in his computer. You open up his email but still he doesn’t react even though you are looking at you closely and you start typing and reading out loud.
“Hey Michael, I am just sending you an email.” you say and you keep being serious while you hear Toto bursting in laughter at the couch.
“Lewis is the best of all time, he did nothing wrong, everything is red bull's fault.” you say again and he keeps looking at you.
You keep joking, acting like you are typing a new email “Hey FIA, it’s Toto, please let us use the das. It's a great innovation and we are so smart to think about it. We are not illegal, or at least that’s what James Allison and Shov said. It’s not our fault that we are both smart and sexy. Thank you in advance.”
“That’s not what I said” he laughs
“I’ll need proof for that.” you say “Would I make a good Toto Wolff?”
“The best. I’ll be sure to leave you in my position once I retire.”
“What will Daimler say for that though?”
“You are doing your training so why would they have an issue?” he replies and you laugh.
“Isn’t this suite a bit too big just for you?” you ask
“You have the same one but yeah it is a bit big.”
“Mine isn’t as big.” you say “Most times I feel lonely in those suites. Mine don’t have kitchens though.”
“You cook? Too bad we have ordered already.”
“Maybe another time.” you say and you hear the door knocking.
“Quite fast.” Toto says and he stands up to open the door.
You walk around the suite once again and enter his bedroom and look at the open closet which is once again full of Mercedes button ons so you grab one and put it on. You hear Toto talking and you go back to the living room but he’s still talking to the person outside the door.
“I am kinda busy here Cynthia. I am sorry.” you hear him say
“Please Toto.” a female voice replies “Is there someone else? Is that why you ordered two plates, two glasses of wine?” she asks
“Cynthia I am in the middle of a very important business meeting, it’s about tomorrow’s qualifying and James is waiting inside to eat so that we can continue our meeting. Thank you for the service.”
“Will you call me when you are done?”
“I will be asleep when we are done.Thank you” he says and closes the door.
You stand there in his living room wearing his button up feeling stupid for believing this thing could go anywhere further.
“I should get going.” you say
“Now that the food is here?” he asks but you don’t reply, “Is this shirt mine? Are you going to take this one too?”
“I will get back to my suite and you can call Cynthia, or whatever her name is, and tell her that James is gone and that you are okay for her to come back and do whatever you two do together.”
“Wait, are you jealous? Of Cynthia?”
“I am not jealous, just not in the position to get involved with someone who’s fucking around with the girl who brought him room service 3 times.”
“I am not involved with her.” he says
“Well she seemed awfully too comfortable to be just a stranger Toto.”
“What do you want to hear?” he asks
“That you’ve fucked her?” you tell him
“We slept together once last year.”
“That’s all I needed to hear. Goodbye Toto.” you say as you walk towards the door, his shirt still hanging on your shoulders but before you can leave he manages to grab your hand
“I only saw her once this year and I just said hi. We hadn’t spoken since last year but as soon as I arrived she didn't stop appearing in my way. She had reached out several times since we left last year but I never got back to her.”
“So she’s nothing to you?”
“She was just a fling.” he replies and you turn around to sit on the dining table.
“Fine” you say, irritation apparent in your voice “Am I just a fling?” you ask yourself in your head so you decide to ask the same to Toto who is holding the pasta plates leaving one in front of you and one opposite to you on the table. He doesn’t answer, instead he does the same with the two glasses of wine. His silence makes you feel like his answer is not the one that you want to hear but as he leaves the glasses on the table he doesn’t sit down, he stays there towering over you and looking at you.
“If it was just a fling I wouldn’t risk destroying my team for it. Also I wouldn’t have done anything that I’ve done for you in any case.” he replies. “Technically you can’t even call it a fling because we only made out two or three times and we were drunk.” he says and just stays still “And still there are two glasses of wine that I ordered on that table. I am never going to learn, am I ?” he laughs
“Sorry ?” you ask but he leans in, reaches for your face and kisses you catching you off guard. You stay still in your chair as he sits opposite to you not saying anything
“The wine is red” he says then
“I can see that.” you reply
“They say that red wine can get you drunk easier.”
You try to understand where he’s going with this
“And?”
“We haven’t drunk any of it yet so we are sober”
“Why are you explaining this to me like I’ve never drunk before?”
“This is the most sober that I will be tonight and you said that I didn’t have the guts to make a move without being drunk.” he says
“You won’t get drunk with a glass of wine Toto.”
“I know I won’t but still I didn’t want you to blame this on a single drop of alcohol.” he replies and you smile and you start eating. No one talks during dinner but you are laughing at each other when you’re struggling with eating the pasta without actually making a mess. It feels natural to just sit there and eat with his company, like you are finally where you are supposed to be. For this moment you forget everything else and you focus on what you are currently living. After some time you both finish your food and you see Toto standing up.
“We should finish our wine on the couch.” he says, taking his glass and you copy his moves. He sits on the couch and you do the same but you don’t sit close to him. You rest your back on the couch arm and lay there putting your feet on his lap. He turns and looks at you but he doesn’t say anything. He rests one hand on your feet and he grabs his phone with the other one unlocking it and looking at his mails.
“Do you want to work?” you ask
“It’s Friday night so no.” he replies
“Then close your phone”
“What can we do instead?”
“Talk like normal people?” you tell him
“About?” he asks
“I am thinking of moving to Monaco”
“That’s a bold choice, have you thought about it enough?” he asks
“I have and I think it’s the best thing I can do to be honest, I have some of my friends there and I really want to leave home, I really can’t deal with Christian while he keeps treating me like this.”
“That’s good.” he replies “What about going to the factory ?”
“How are you doing it? You live in Monaco and you also have to go to England at the factory.”
“It’s really tiring to be honest, you need to have a place to stay close to the factory “
“I have my apartment in London available.” you tell him
“London to Milton Keynes isn’t that easy to do on a daily basis.”
“Anyways, going to the factory isn’t my main priority right now, I am not even on the team.”
“You are on Mercedes.” he says
“Is this an invitation to Brackley?” you laugh
“You swore it was just for a few races, not that you will be staying permanently”
“It was my masterplan to get hired by Mercedes.”
“We don’t want you with us.” he jokes
“Why?” you ask
“You are distracting the team Ms. Horner.”
“How am I even distracting the team?” you say whining “People don’t even know who I am except from you.”
“You answered for me.” he tells you “And now I have to deal with you walking around Monaco.”
“Oh sorry, I’ll cancel my plans then.”
“Oh no, Monaco needs a twist.” he says and you look at him but say nothing. He doesn’t attempt to start a new conversation, he just readjusts on the couch, grabs the remote and opens the TV. He navigates through Netflix’s homepage and you eventually make him watch a movie which he tried to convince you not to watch. Again, none of you speaks during the movie. Halfway through, you realize you’re far too invested in the movie and turn to look at Toto who is fast asleep on that same couch. You decide that there’s no point in staying longer in his suite and you remove your legs from his lap as smoothly as you can, you grab your phone and your shoes which you had earlier taken off and head to the door tiptoeing.
“Stay here tonight.” you hear his raspy voice which takes you by surprise and you almost scream
“It’s better that I leave, you are tired and need some sleep.” you reply
“There’s a spare bed if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“And there’s an empty suite down the hallway.”
“Come on, aren't you bored to leave when you can just sleep here?” he tells you and well, he’s kinda right. Plus it’s not like you don’t want to spend some more time with him and it would definitely be questionable if someone saw you leaving his suite at midnight. You don’t go back to the couch but you leave your shoes down while Toto eyes every single move you make.
“It’s quali day tomorrow, we need to sleep. Come on.” you tell him and you walk to his room. Seconds later he follows you and enters the room.
“I’m taking the left side.” you say and he smiles at you with a sleepy face.
“You’re sure you don’t want to sleep in the other room?” he asks
“It’s not like it will make any difference. Except if you have a problem.”
“No, definitely not.” he replies and both of you lay on the bed, facing each other.
“I’ll wake up earlier to go to the gym, then we can get ready and hit the track. We’ll have breakfast there.” he says and you nod. He seems very calm, eyelids heavy with sleep so you decide to lean and kiss him goodnight. As you come closer to him you can now feel his scent and warmth and you put your lips on his. The kiss is slow and sweet, somehow different from the rest that the two of you had shared up to this moment.
“Goodnight Wolff.” you say
“Goodnight Horner.” he replies and both of you drift to sleep.
The next day you wake up without an alarm and you find the bed next to you empty. You hear water running and figure out that Toto must be taking his post gym shower. You keep laying there and grab your phone to go through new updates and messages. Not a lot of time passes until he emerges from the bathroom wearing nothing but a white towel wrapped around his waist and he holds another one trying to dry the water off his hair. You admire the sight for a while and you say “Good Morning”. He looks at you and replies
“Good Morning Horner. Slept well?”
“Very much thank you” you say “How about you?”
“Slept really well, and I started my day with a good session at the gym with George and Lewis.”
“Oh that must have been interesting. I would have loved to join you three.”
“It would be funny to see their reactions.” he replies as he dries his hair on a smaller white towel while he’s looking at the nightstand on your right where his things rest . He tosses the towel he was holding on a white chair in the room and he approaches you. He climbs on the bed and puts one hand on the headrest while his other hand is stretching to reach the IWC watch on the nightstand. His already toned muscles are a little more observable now that he’s lingering above you. You draw a sharp breath at the sight trying to contain your thoughts and your self but you still look up and stare at him while he makes sure that he gets the watch. When he actually does, he looks down at you and he catches you staring.
“What?” he asks, staying still in the same position and you don’t answer but instead you scoff. You take a quick glance on his body and you let your instincts take over. You grab him from his neck and pull him down for a kiss. He immediately reacts by holding your face with his now free hand and he pulls you closer as he deepens the kiss and bites your lip. You melt into the kiss still laying down as you feel your heart racing faster than any racing car you’ve ever seen. Your breath gets quicker as you get the sheets out of your way trying to feel his skin on yours. Toto mutters “Fuck” in between your kisses making you a little crazier. He breaks the kiss and walks to the end of the bed, he grabs your legs and starts leaving trails of kisses all the way up from your calf to your upper thigh until he stops and looks at you, eyes full of lust. He lingers above you for a second or two and he looks at you intensely trying to make sure that he has your consent for his following actions. Once you understand what this is about you nod while you're trying to regulate your breath.
"Stay still for me baby" he requests and you try to follow his order by just laying there as he dives his head between your thighs. Your breathing gets faster and deeper as he works his way down on you making you feel like you’ve never felt before. You sense his smile while his tongue makes circles down on you. It’s more sensual than you’ve imagined it to be. And god the man definitely knows what he’s doing. He keeps going on for a while with the same dedication as he started and you feel getting closer and closer to your absolute limits. You look down on him as he now uses his hands on you, and you see him staring back. “You look so good baby” he says and all you can manage to say is his name followed by a moan. “Toto I’m so close. Fuck” you say out of breath and he dives in once again as if he heard the magic phrase. He works his magic and shortly after you probably have the best orgasm you’ve ever had. Then he stands up, his hardness still apparent. You manage to regain your strength and crawl at the end of the bed. “Time to take care of you love.” you tell him and he looks at you with a sparkle in his eye. You reach for his neck and pull him in for a long kiss as you move your hand down his torso and on his crotch. You feel him, how hard he is, and you’re secretly taking pride in your effect on him. You start touching him, trying to make him feel good in your hands. His breathing gets faster as you continue and you can sense him coming closer and closer. You want to give him your best so you slowly lean down but he stops you. “Let me feel you?” he asks, almost sounding tortured. You feel a burning desire in you. You’ve imagined this for some time. You cannot say no, not now. Instead you say “Yes please” and get on his lap. You kiss him, while you’re repeating in your head “i am actually fucking Toto Wolff”. You give him one or two strokes getting ready for him but instead of following he looks around, probably for protection. “I am on birth control” you tell him and he turns his attention back to you. You place yourself in the right position as you feel him pressuring your entrance. Once he’s in you start riding him until you feel yourself getting out of breath. All this time muttering his name like a mantra and he is just repeating something in the lines of “God you feel so good.”, both of you feeling like you’re in another world. As soon as he gets that you are tired he lifts you up and lays you down on the bed. Now he is on top and he’s thrusting in and out in a rhythmic and satisfying way. He looks you in the eye. It’s not awkward. Not even close. You both seem to enjoy it quite a lot. It’s not after a long time that both of you finish at the same time, in an almost poetic way.
Now both of you lay naked on Toto’s queen sized bed. No one is talking. You just lay on his torso while his hand is round your shoulders. At some point you decide to break the silence
“That was a decent start to the day.” you say and Toto looks down on you
“Beats the early gym session to be honest.” he says
“I would be angry if you preferred going to the gym with Lewis and George to having sex with me”
“If it wasn’t for the gym you wouldn’t be here now”
“You think it was the ‘semi naked with a towel’ appearance that made me want to sleep with you?” you laugh “I would give it to you any time of the day, even if you were wearing a garbage bag Wolff.”
“Nice to hear that you are unreasonably horny.”
“It’s not without a reason though. I think you’ve figured out that I do not consider you a bad looking man.”
“I have yes.”
“All I had to do is to just find the courage to just throw myself at you.” you laugh
“And you kind of had to be drunk to do so?” he asks
“Yes”
“Isn’t it ironic though?” he says “That we actually slept together during the moment of our biggest clarity and sobriety?”
“What is it with the philosophical questions Toto? I just wanted to have sex with you for a long time and I did.”
“Long time I hear?”
“Yes, are you surprised?” you ask
“No, just glad that I am not the only one. Was it good at least?”
“God Toto, you’re asking the cringiest questions.” you say “Yes, god, it was perfect.” you answer and you hear Toto laugh.
“Now as much as I want to stay here and repeat this through the day, we have to go to the track” he says
“Ah yes, I am dying to get some breakfast as well.” you say and Toto laughs
“I’ve already had mine” he says with a smirk and as soon as you get what he’s talking about you grab your pillow and start hitting him playfully.
“Come on, let’s get ready.”
A hour or so later, you find yourself parking a shiny black Mercedes at the track's parking area while being already disguised as your alter ego, full on Mercedes’ gear. Today you are wearing Toto’s shirt, which is a little oversized but you manage to style it in a great way. You grab your bag, draw a sharp breath and open the door. You walk to the paddock and scan your pass as you go totally unnoticed by people around you. To them you look like a regular Mercedes employee that they have no reason to care about. Little do they know that this is actually you. To be honest you kind of love the calmness of it, how no one is chasing you for a photo or a statement on a recent drama or event of the F1 world. You just walk unbothered. You get so caught up in that thought that you don’t actually notice how fast you got to the motorhome. You get in and put on your show, greeting the majority of your colleagues that also seem ignorant to your presence there. You go to the buffet area and grab a tray for your breakfast which you eventually bring to the small office that Toto managed to provide you. Once you settle in, you sit down to eat but you take a photo of the breakfast as a part of documenting that crazy weekend. You also decide to send the photo to Toto.
You
[photo]
Grabbed breakfast and brought it to the office. Drop by if you don’t have anything better to do.
Wolff
Just walked in. I’ll grab my coffee and be there in 5.
You
Cool.
Five minutes later you hear a knock on the door followed by “Miss Roosevelt it’s Wolff here.”
“Coming.” you say and unlock the door for him to come in.
“Hey” you say
“Hello” he answers and looks at the full tray “You got quite a lot of food there.”
“Yeah, that start to the day just opened my appetite.”
“That’s good to hear”
“So, what am I supposed to do today?”
“Well, practice starts in 45 minutes and then we have qualifying.”
“I am aware of the program, thank you.”
“You won’t let me finish my thought will you?” he says
“Sorry” you tell him and look at him
“I am thinking, maybe you can join me and Nyck in the garage for practice.” he pauses to think “And then you can take a look at the data before qualifying.”
“No I cannot do that” you say
“Why not? I know you can read data, you have the basic skills and knowledge to judge a performance run.”
“I don’t want to be involved with your data. It’s confidential.” you reply. It is actually crazy that Toto is okay with the idea of you handling the team’s data, as if you are not his number one opponent.
“I know it is. But I trust you, plus there’s an NDA that you’ve already signed. And the fact that you deny reading the data makes me want to give you access to them more than before. Because I know how serious you are about not leaking stuff.”
“Okay I will take a look, but only for a short time.” you tell him
“Oh and then I want you to do a tour to a group of visitors that will be coming to the garage.”
“Aren’t there people responsible for this?” you ask, reminiscing the fact that in Red Bull you have people who are responsible for the hospitality packages.
“There are but they are shitting their pants because Christiano is dropping by later.”
“Who is Christiano?” you ask, slightly confused
“Ronaldo” he replies
“He’s coming to the race?”
“Yes. He’s actually coming both today and tomorrow and the team is invested in doing everything perfect for him.” he says and you are still staring at him with your mouth open “We are a bit short staffed in that team so an extra help would be amazing.”
“Good. I’ll do that too.”
“Great, thanks love” he says and you freeze at the name but before it gets too awkward the door knocks.
“Toto, this is James, do you have some time to review the quali strategy?” you hear through the door
“Yes, I will be there in a sec.” he replies “Gotta go now, i’ll see you in 45 right?”
“Right” you tell him and he is out of the office. I
You spend the next 30 minutes scrolling through twitter and eating the breakfast that you got earlier as well as taking a look at Toto’s schedule for the day. Later on you leave the office, mask on once again, and make your way to the garage and to the top of the fantasy island where Toto and Nyck are waiting for the session to start. Both cars are in the garage waiting for a sign to leave once the lights at the end of the pitlane turn green and at the same time all the mechanics are making the final touches on the set ups. You greet everyone sitting on the fantasy island and put on the spare headphones as you did the day before. The session is done as usual, the drivers going in and out of the garage to change setups on the car to find an optimal one for the qualifying. Performance runs are also on the programme but only during the last fifteen minutes of the session. Everything concerning telemetry is being sent directly into Toto’s computer on top of the fantasy island as soon as each lap ends so that he can see how they are done and areas where they can be corrected. The session ends quicker than it usually does when you are at Red Bull because suddenly all the chit chat becomes interesting and not as boring as it is with Christian.
“P1 and P2 huh?” you ask him. Nyck is already out of the garage, something about having to talk to some foreign media made Toto let him leave before the small pre qualifying debrief.
“It isn’t bad is it?” he asks back.
“It is not for us” you tell him “ It is for the rest of the grid though. I bet Christian is fuming right now.”
“It is not bad for them. If we are in front they will have to innovate more to reach us. It motivates them.”
“I bet they are not seeing it this way though.”
“Is Christian really fuming if we finish in front in practice?”
“Yeah, he’s not a fan of coming second in any session of this sport.”
“Too bad for him.” he says and you laugh. At this moment your phone rings with a notification from the calendar app reminding you of an interview Toto has to attend.
“Oh, I am seeing now that you should be outside the media pen for an interview.” you tell him
“I am very much aware, thank you.”
“Well, why are you not there now?”
“I prefer to hang out with my beautiful assistant instead.” he compliments you
“Oh my god, shut up” you laugh and he does the same “Come on, interview, now!” you say as you tug him and try to push him to the corridor that leads to the paddock playfully.
“That’s unfair. I am the boss. You are not in the position to prohibit me from doing anything.” he laughs as he walks reluctantly to the paddock.
“Well, it seems like I am in charge of what you are doing so technically I am allowed to tell you what to do.” you tell him “I will be enjoying a cold cup of coffee in the meantime.”
“Once again, that’s unfair Horner.” he says the second part whispering so that people are not able to hear. “Also, you have work to do. The telemetry data is already in your email inbox waiting to be read and commented on, so if I were you I would actually save the coffee for later.” he says and you look at him flabbergasted. “Oh and as soon as you are done with that you have the little tour to do in an hour and a half. Take care Ms. Roosevelt.”
Before you are able to form a sentence he is already gone, more like running to the media pen. You on the other side, walk back to your office, open your new iPad and take a look at the data. The lap times look good, still slower than the lap time that you calculated the pole position would be on, but they look good. In the data you can see clearly that the engine mode is in a much less aggressive setup that you are sure will change during qualifying. You add some comments using your iPencil concerning parts of where you think the drivers can gain time, as well as some questions for the strategists and the mechanics. When you are done, you forward your notes to Toto’s email and check the clock to see that it has actually been 1:30 hours and that it is actually the time to go meet the people you will be giving your tour to.
You find them all standing on a circle by the garage entrance at the paddock, discussing, taking pictures and being excited. There are 5 of them, 3 guys and 2 girls, all of them close to your age. You approach them and greet them. One of the girls looks gorgeous. The boys aren’t bad either.
“Hello everyone.” you say “You must be waiting for a paddock tour right?”
“Yeah” one of the boys says and the rest of them nod.
“Okay!” you say in an excited tone, trying to engage with them. “I am Mindy. I will learn your names during the tour I suppose.”
“Nice to meet you” says one of the girls “Likewise” you answer “So, should we start? Are you all excited?”
“Very.” one of the boys says.
The tour starts and you take all of them for a walk in the paddock to see all the motorhomes and where you actually work and you are actually describing all the details about what you are showing to them. You take them by the media pen, where you spot Toto giving another interview for pre qualifying. All of the guys and the girls get very excited and try to snap a picture even from far away. Then you take them by the garage but just before you manage to get in, you receive a new notification on your watch
Wolff
Just finished the interviews at the media pen and managed to see your notes and questions on the telemetry data. I forwarded them to James and he immediately got back to me asking who made all those brilliant notes and questions. I guess you are wasting yourself with management, you should become a mechanic instead.
Oh I also caught a glance of you and the guys during the tour. I hope that you are doing alright. We don’t want to make Ritz’s employees sad, we still have a few days left before we check out.
You read the message and realize that the people that you’ve been interacting with are people working at your hotel. So you decide to stop the tour and actually get to know them.
“You know what? Let’s introduce ourselves before going into the garage.” you tell them and walk back to a bench located at the paddock.
“So as I told you before I am Mindy Roosevelt, I am currently working at Mercedes AMG Petronas F1 but my position is totally different to what I am doing right now. I am actually working as an assistant to upper management, but the hospitality team has a very special guest for this weekend and they were busy enough so you are left with me.” you say “Go ahead, introduce yourselves.”
One of the guys starts talking “I am Ahmad Hussain and like everyone here, I am working at the Ritz-Carlton in Jeddah. I am working as a cook in the hotel kitchen so everything that you’ve tasted in the past few days might have had to do something with me.”
“I loved everything that I’ve tried, thank you Ahmad.” you tell him
“I am Benjy Ayad, I am half american half saudi arabian and I am currently working at the Ritz-Carlton as an economics advisor.” he says
“Mohammad Dawoud, and I am working at the Ritz-Carlton in room service.”
“Oh, I will be requesting for you Mohammad.” you laugh and he takes a bow showing his honor.
“I am also working as room service at the Ritz.” you hear one of the girls saying. This time it’s the pretty one
“That’s nice. What is your name?”
“I am Cynthia Jones.” she says and you freeze as you realize that the girl standing in front of you has slept with the man you slept with this morning. Jealousy as well as curiosity are your main feelings so you ask for more information.
“Sounds very non-Saudi Arabian. Where are you from Cynthia?” you ask
“I am from the UK actually. I was born and raised there, my parents are British but all of a sudden I ended up here. I was looking for a position in management in some big companies here in Saudi Arabia and I got this job as a part time until I figured things out but I ended up staying for two years.”
“That’s crazy. And why management? Do you have a degree?”
“Yes, I actually do. I got my degree in Switzerland and I tried pursuing it but right now I haven’t found anything that I like.”
You nod in agreement, trying to register all the information that you’ve learned from her directly. Toto was secretive about their relationship so learning even the slightest about her is important. Finally you turn to the last girl left
“Alina Mohammad, I work as a receptionist at the Ritz. Nothing to know exactly. I was born and raised here and I got a degree in touristics so I got the job of my dreams.”
“You guys seem really happy with what you are all doing. I hope you keep doing what you love.” you say “I mean you all managed to buy a paddock pass that most people wouldn’t dream buying at what? 24?”
“No actually we didn’t buy a pass, the team invited us to join today’s action.” says Benjy
“Oh shit, I didn’t know that.” you say
“Yeah they came in last night and handed us the passes just before our shift ended. We went crazy.” says Cynthia and you look at her.
“Sorry Cynthia, if I may ask, what time do you finish your shift on average?”
“I don’t know, maybe like 11pm or something? Yesterday I finished at that time.” she replies. At this point you are now sure, Toto asked her to come there today. There’s no other explanation. As soon as he saw her he wanted her to come back. That’s why he invited her. It wasn’t planned for you to do the interview, but he changed it to make you interact with Cynthia, to actually hurt your feelings.
“Mindy, is everything okay?” Mohammad asks as you have totally zoned out
“Sorry, I spaced out for a bit. Yes, everything is good. Shall we continue with our garage tour?” you ask and they nod. You go back to the garage trying to explain as many things as you know about the things there. To be honest, your mood isn’t quite the same as it was before you knew who the beautiful blonde by your side was. Luckily, the tour comes to an end 30 minutes later but sadly it is qualifying time so you have to be by Toto’s side by the time the session starts. Cristiano Ronaldo is also there by Toto’s side. You nod and greet him as Toto introduces you and you just get back to work.
During qualifying you sit there, not talking, just looking at the screen and the timings and occasionally checking your burner twitter account for any comments. Although you are pissed at the man next to you you definitely don’t want Mercedes to qualify in bad positions so through Q1 and Q2 you are relaxed since it is obvious that both cars will be through to Q3. During Q3 you keep your fingers crossed and mostly during the last runs for pole position you keep praying as you usually do in Red Bull. When the timer runs out Lewis and George are sitting P1 and P2 respectively, locking the front row for tomorrow’s start and as soon as the team figures it out, the whole garage erupts in cheers. Toto reaches Ronaldo for a handshake, celebrating the results. Your eye catches the guys from earlier cheering and hugging each other, taping with their phones. Toto turns to you and you do a high five with him as he smiles at you. You remain indifferent in his reaction, keeping yourself busy until George and Lewis are back to the parc ferme to congratulate them. Once you are done with that you simply say goodbye to everyone there and leave.
You go back and grab all your things and without saying a word to anyone you drive back to the hotel. When you are ready to go back to bed, you see a new message
Max Emilian Verstappen
Where are you? I missed you on track these days.
You
Sadly Christian thought it was a fair deal to throw me out of the team for god knows how long.
Happily for you I will be out of your way for that time so you will relax.
Also congrats for the P3 today, it was a decent run but the mercs had the pace.
Max Emilian Verstappen
Oh Christian…
Shut up, I already miss you. Are you in England?
Thank you H.
You
I am in Monaco, at a friend's house.
You feel kinda terrible for lying to him but there’s not much you can do.
After you chat with Max for a while, you order some food to eat but then get another message.
Wolff
Lost you after qualifying and when I asked they told me you had left. That wasn’t a bad result.
Anyways I am going back to the hotel and I am planning to order something to eat, you can hang around my suite if you want and we can discuss strategies for the race.
Let me know what you are about to do
You
I’m not feeling very good, sorry.
And tomorrow I will be coming in late, probably an hour or so before the start
Wolff
Okay. Do you need any help? Should I drop by your suite?
How am I supposed to work without my assistant?
You
I am not your main assistant Woff, you have a hundred people helping you, me not being there won’t be a huge issue
No, don’t come.
Just let me fucking be for once okay?
Later on you see that he read the message and didn’t reply. You take a hot bath and go to sleep for tomorrow.
You wake up the next day pretty late but just in time considering the fact that you are planning to leave in 2 hours. You order breakfast to avoid having something at the track and start getting ready as you are waiting for room service to arrive. You eat and then leave.
Since you left the hotel earlier your time of arrival is estimated earlier than you actually planned so you decide to take a drive in Jeddah’s streets to soak in the country. An hour or so before the start you actually arrive at the track. You park your car and walk to the hospitality. Then you lock yourself in your office and just read notes for the race. Later on you hear a knock on the door.
“It’s Wolff” you hear him say and you open the door even if you don’t want to. You don’t speak. You stay there and look at him. “Are you feeling okay?” he asks
“I am okay, yes.” you reply “Do you want anything else?” you ask him since he’s standing there just watching,
“Why are you acting like this?” he asks
“Like what?”
“Like Christian Horner’s daughter?”
“Yeah, you should be expecting that since that’s exactly who I am”
“You haven’t been like this since Bahrain.” he says
“Well if you don’t like it then you should call Cynthia.” you tell him
“Is this what this is all about? Are you jealous?” he asks
“Listen Toto, if you want to discuss this I will discuss it outside this office please.” you tell him
“Okay then, follow me.” he says
“What? Now?”
“I want to solve this right now if it’s okay.”
“The race starts in 30 minutes.” you say
“It will take less than 30 minutes, follow me” he says
Both you and Toto walk in the motorhome before he manages to open a door at the end of the hallway. You climb off the stairs and you reach a place somewhere in between a wall and a closed section of the motorhome.
“Speak” he says
“Bossy much ?” you ask
“Yes, now please tell me how did the whole Cynthia thing reoccur after yesterday morning?”
“Don’t tell me you don’t know.” you tell him
“I do not have a clue.” he says
“You don’t have a clue about inviting her here?”
“Who?”
“Yesterday you made me do a paddock tour to a group of people.”
“Yes, they were the Ritz employees, I am aware of that”
“So you are aware that Cynthia Jones was proudly here watching F1 and enjoying qualifying with a VIP pass right?”
“I was not.” he says and honestly he seems like he’s telling the truth.
“You didn’t see her in the garage?” you ask
“Well, believe it or not I do not see everyone who is in the garage.”
“You didn’t invite her ?”
“Nope.”
“She said that she got her invitation right after her shift ended. And her shift ended after you saw her.”
“I was aware that they were going to be here. Just not the names of who was coming. The hotel management was supposed to do a draw and pick 5 people to join us as a gift. It’s part of our contract.” he replies
“So you didn’t know she was coming?”
“I am going to say no once again.” he says “You can search my messages if you want to.” he says as he hands you his phone.
“I trust you.” you tell him and you hand him his phone back
“After all I am not that big of an asshole to invite an ex fling and then sleep with you the next morning.”
“Don’t you dare do this again.”
“Invite people or sleep with you?”
“Oh Wolff fuck off.” you joke
“With you, gladly.” he replies
“Shhh” you tell him
“You are not going to shut me up this way.” he says and then looks at you “Also take off this goddamn mask now that no one can see us, I am tired of seeing you with it.”
You take of your mask and smile at him
“You’re sure that no one can see us here right?” you ask and he nods.
You lean on him and kiss him, catching him off guard. He returns the kiss as he smiles in it .
“I am sorry, Wolff. I won’t overreact about Cynthia again.”
“It’s alright Horner.” he tells you.
“The race starts in 15, should we go?”
“Let’s go.” he says and both of you walk back to the garage and your usual places.
At the start of the race both Lewis and George start off well, keeping their initial positions with Max lurking just behind George. Standing next to Toto, you have access to everything on his computer so you see lap by lap each and every thing you’ve learned to look for in order to plan a strategy in your head. When things get tough and Max gets behind Lewis in P2 your brain is running as fast as it can. The Mercedes strategists are proposing possible pit stop strategies based on the data that they have. However they don’t know one thing that you do. As an executive at Red Bull you have to be aware of code phrases over the team radio, which to be honest can’t be forgotten in a day. So as you’re seeing in the data Lewis is trying to manage his tires and you hear the message “Okay Max, it seems like we are going for a one stopper here.” , you feel the bells ringing in your head.
The “It seems like” phrase is a code name for doing exactly the opposite that the phrase says so you are 100% sure that they are going for a two stopper in order to win. Something that Mercedes has done countless times.
Toto had told you earlier that if you want to intervene you can press the button and speak but he thought that you wouldn’t be crazy enough to actually do it. When you crack the code of the Red Bull strategy you immediately press the button saying strategy and speak.
“Red Bull is going for a two stopper.” you say and Toto looks at you with his eyes wide open. “In about 5 to 10 laps they are going to be back on the softs to chase us. I would suggest pitting Lewis for a second time, turning the engine up and trying to chase him.”
“Are you sure?” he asks
“The “It seems like” is the key phrase Toto. Please let Lewis know. ” you tell him
“Okay. Do what she said. I am waiting for your calculations. Get back at me in two minutes.” he says while pressing the strategy button
“Thank you.” he says.
Later on it seems like Red Bull is caught off guard by Mercedes’ move and they try saving it as well as they can but they fail. At the end of the race the checkered flag is out and Lewis wins the grand prix in Jeddah.
“Yes boys, come on. Amazing strategy” says Lewis through the radio as everyone in the garage is celebrating. George finishes P2.
“Thank you for the amazing drive Lewis.” says Toto
“Get in there Lewis!” says Bono through the radio.
Toto turns to you and says thank you while he’s off to congratulate the other team members. After Lewis gives his post race interview to Naomi Schiff, you storm off to the pitlane to watch the podium ceremony. Max is also there and he seems a bit disappointed by his streak of P3’s during the season, but you’re barely worried. Right now you are celebrating about Lewis and George. You take your phone out and snap a picture or two. After the champagne opens and the trophies are given you go back to your office and lock yourself there once again. You’re hearing all the congratulations from people in the hospitality center and you sit on the office couch feeling that happiness and euphoria of winning. You haven’t spoken to anyone since the race ended but you are now just laying there happy. A long time after, you hear a knock on the door. You’re sure it’s Toto since the race debrief and the interviews must have ended by now. You ask who it is though.
“It’s Lewis. Can you please open up?” he says and you freeze, stopping dead in your tracks. You put on your mask and you open the door.
“Oh my god Lewis hi. Congratulations on your win.” you tell him
“Thank you Mindy. It’s Mindy right?” he asks
“Yes it is.” you tell him
“And you’re a Daimler intern?”
“I am yes.”
“Can you please take off your mask so that I can remember your face?” he asks and at this point you are pretty sure he knows that you’re not who you say you are.
“I am sorry but I am at great risk, I don’t want to get COVID or anything.” you tell him trying to avoid the situation.
“Don’t worry, I am wearing masks and I also tested negative this morning, so you can take it off.”
“Is it okay if I don’t want to?” you tell him
“Yes it is.” he says and he turns to face the door, finally going to leave. “We will be outside celebrating the 1-2 with the team, it will be amazing if you come, even for the picture.”
“I am not sure I have to be there.”
“I know you had something to do with that win, this strategy didn’t make itself Horner.” he says and you freeze as you register how he called you.
“Excuse me?” you tell him
“Next time that you fight with Toto, don’t do it outside my driver’s room Horner.” he says. “I know what happened between you two, I saw you without your mask and I saw you kissing my Team principal, there’s no denying.”
“Shit. Toto said no one could see us.”
“I could see you but Toto thought I would be at the grid by then when I clearly wasn’t.”
“I am sorry. You can’t say this to anyone.” you tell him
“I don’t plan to, I just find it funny that you switched teams.” he says
“Yeah, I had to because my dad’s an asshole.”
“Okay, now you get what everyone’s saying right?” he laughs
“Yeap.”
“You should come outside, let’s celebrate. You earned this victory as much as I did. Plus I want to have you in the picture. You can wear your mask.” he says and he extends his hand to make you stand up from the couch.
“Okay” you say and you walk with him
“Oh and by the way, Wolff is heads over heels for you, I am pretty sure he’s liked you for a long time and he hasn’t stopped thinking about you. That Cynthia thing is completely bullshit.”
“Really?” you ask him and he nods smiling.
Both of you walk outside to celebrate that amazing day with your amazing achievements. Mercedes really feels like home for you. Toto’s eyes light up when he sees you outside, in between the mix of employees. He stands by your side for the photos and then all of the team starts playing with champagne. It’s a really great night in the desert that makes up for the craziness of the weekend which makes you relax ahead of the new week coming up.
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Solaxl Week- Day 4
Haha get befuddled, you assumed I was gonna do hurt/comfort, didn't you? Well, I'm doing something different!...mostly bc I couldn't think of any ideas I hadn't already done before.
It was fun to give these two a slightly different dynamic, because a lot of the gruff op solitary behavior of Sol couldn't happen back when he was a kid, and his knowledge of music and inclination for the sciences indicates that as a young'un he was probably a massive nerd. Axl, meanwhile, seems like he was always a little scrappy brat. Don't need an education to be a delinquent. It's fun having Sol be the one out of his league and awkward for once.
4- Band AU, Hurt/Comfort, Snowball Fight
-
It didn’t matter how much college prep bit into his schedule, he still wasn’t giving up on band. Frederick refused to give up on one of the few things that still made him happy.
With how studying had begun bleeding into any snippets of free time he had left, some corners still had to be cut. Study hall had been the most recent casualty, following in the footsteps of lunch period. Sure, he still brought food, but as soon as the bell rang, he’d tuck his books under one arm and head for the band storage closet. It had been his routine for a couple months now. He knew how it was supposed to go. Drop his stuff at the door, flick the switch, head for the guitar rack. Maybe a bite or two of lunch could get squeezed in. It depended on how he felt.
Frederick halted, staring. For the first time, he’d arrived in a storage closet that was occupied by more than just inert instruments.
“You can’t be in here.”
“Eh?”
The guy was perched on the chair’s two back legs- his chair, the same one he used every single time. That alone was enough to veer his confusion into annoyance. Frederick didn’t recognize him, but in fairness, it was a big school. The more he looked, the guy looked less and less familiar and more and more greasy.
Perhaps he didn’t want to sit in that chair after all.
“Was just chillin.’” The stranger replied, shrugging.
Frederick shuffled uncomfortably from foot to foot, unsure of what to do with his routine interrupted. “Band isn’t until sixth block, nobody’s supposed to be in here.”
“Yeah? So why’re you, then?”
It felt rather ass-backward to have his own motives questioned, but he chose not to say it, or to start a shouting match. He still had a bit of a reputation for being asocial, but not a total delinquent (in part because if he ever tried that, his parents would never let him live it down)
“I just came down for practice,” he replied. “Are you in study hall? I had all my work finished, so they let me go.”
The other boy snorted. “Heh! Nah, supposed to be in calc. Boo-ring. Hopped out the window, just gonna hang out here until lunch.”
Frederick was definitely sure he hadn’t met this person before. The rough edge to his voice and the thick accent was hard to mistake for someone else.
It suddenly struck him that there were only so many more minutes before the next class started, and he’d already wasted too many talking. Trying to regain some semblance of normalcy, Frederick left his books at the door and dragged a chair off of the pile by the wall. The rhythm of routine almost let him forget the intrusive stranger until he’d sat down again. The guitar’s weight was familiar in his lap, as was the music stand placed before him, but beyond the top of his sheet music, he could still see the guy staring at him with an oddly curved smile.
“Can’t you do that somewhere else? I don’t want someone to walk in and think I’m associated with you.”
“Why not? I’m awesome!”
“You’re a pain.” Frederick strummed the strings and felt along the instrument’s neck to tune one of them. “And I don’t want to get in trouble because of you.”
The other boy leaned forward in his seat, expression halfway between amused and angered. “Bloody hell, are you forreal? You’re one of those guys?”
Frederick paused his tuning. “What do you mean, ‘one of those guys?’”
“One of those little whiny crybabies that gets all bent out of shape just thinkin’ about getting told off. Lemme guess, you’re a straight-A student? Can’t even think about getting anything less than a hundred on everything?”
B-plus, and his parents wouldn’t let him hear the end of it. “M’not taking life criticism from someone who can’t sit through simple math for half an hour. What, does playing delinquent make you feel special?”
“I do it ‘cause I feel like it, you can’t tell me what to do!” Though his voice stayed steady, Frederick could see how the stranger was starting to go red. “And I’m not takin’ this kinda flak from someone who’s probably too much of a teacher’s pet to even swea-”
“Shut the fuck up.”
To his credit, he automatically did, too startled to speak. Frederick kept his scowl for a few moments more, then gave the guitar another strum. It sounded a lot better. He looked back to his sheets and tentatively repeated the first couple of notes…all the while he could still see himself being watched. He sighed in annoyance. “Like I told you already, I don’t want people to think we have anything to do with each other. Can you just hang out somewhere else?”
“Tch.”
Not much of an answer. The proper answer seemed to come in the form of the stranger sliding off his chair and cracking his neck. Instead of heading for the door, though, Frederick watched him approach the instruments. For a moment, he wondered if he’d start smashing things just to cause trouble.
“Well, then we will have something to do with each other, then!” He swiped another guitar off of the next hanger over. The chair he’d just been sitting in was hip-checked over closer to Frederick’s, and sat down far too close for his personal taste. “Whattaya playing? Got a second copy?”
Frederick jerked back. “You trying to breathe down my neck? Dammit, and be careful with that, don’t break anything! Do you know what you’re doing in the slightest?”
“Oh, you shut the fuck up, bloody poindexter.”
Before Frederick could think of sending a jab back, he was interrupted as the stranger started to play. The first few notes were rough, but…he hadn’t seen anyone else in band handle a guitar so carefully. Personal appearances were one thing, but Frederick had enough experience to recognize someone familiar with a guitar. And even if it wasn’t his favorite band, he’d recognize the iconic twangs of Cream’s ‘Sunshine of Your Love’ in his sleep.
He couldn’t hold back an impressed whistle. “Wow. Not bad, dirtbag. Surprised it wasn’t grunge.”
“Grunge’s fine, but I didn’t wanna scare ya~” Though he still had a smugness about him, Frederick could feel a little more warmth in the stranger’s tone. “So whatta you play?”
I like the classics.” He replied with pride. “Queen’s the best.”
“Nice, same boat. Folks tell me I like ‘dad music’ ‘n I tell ‘em their taste’s shit.” Frederick was offered a hand. “Guess you ain’t all bad. ‘m Axl, Axl Low.”
He took what was offered and shook. “Frederick Bulsara.”
Axl started to laugh. “Of course yer name’s Frederick.”
“H-hey, stuff it. I don’t believe for a second ‘Axl’ is your real name, either.”
“Okay, okay, I get it, Freddie. So, you said you came down fer practice, this a hobby?”
Frederick adjusted himself in his chair, settling the guitar across his lap. “Kinda. I like doing it for fun, but band class gives it a little more structure. And I’ve been doing it long enough that Professor Ringo lets me submit songs for us to do. Don’t think I’ve seen you in the orchestra, have I?”
“Don’t do band.” Said Axl. “Don’t like ‘em tellin’ me what to play. But I guess if you’re doing good shit this semester…”
“Yeah, here, lemme show you the stuff I got- “
The moment he tried to reach for his sheet music, the bell began to ring. Frederick looked down at his watch. “Shit, how’s it been that long?! I didn’t even get any practice in!”
Axl snickered, taking both of their guitars and putting them back on the rack. “Careful, Freddie, people are gonna think you’re some kinda delinquent, late for class and using dirty words like that.”
“Oh yeah, you’d know all about that-” He frantically gathered his things, shoving the music stand back with the others. In his haste, he’d forgotten to take the sheet music off first, and the motion sent them flying “Dammit!”
“Got it, I got it,” Axl knelt down and started gathering them up. From his pocket came a cracked pen. Frederick didn’t have a chance to say anything before he’d already started writing something on one of the papers.
“What are you doing? Don’t mess it up!”
“Chill, yeesh.” Once his self-appointed task was finished, Axl handed everything back to its owner. “Just giving you my contact info. Uh, hey, drop me a text later, got it? Dunno how to sign up for classes, maybe you could show me? Or heck, just send me some vids of the stuff you play, I wanna see your technique.”
He spoke too fast for Frederick to keep up. “Huh? What- “
“See ya, mate!”
Though he was still worried about next class, he was too bewildered to do anything but stare at the empty doorway where Axl had just been. Turning over the stack of sheet music, sure enough, there was a string of numbers and under the strange boy’s name.
What a peculiar encounter. He still wasn’t sure what to make of it. Though he did have a softer spot for someone who could appreciate the classics. Maybe it would be worth keeping in contact? When he had a moment between classes, Frederick would try to memorize Axl’s number and put it into his contacts…He’d have to ask why there had been a scratchy heart scribbled next to it, anyway…
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Leave Everything You Need
Author: reneejuliet Pairing: Hoseok x Reader Rating: E Word Count: 1,292 Genre: Fluff, Light Angst, Friends to Lovers?, Idol AU Author’s Note: It's aliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiive! Sorry to say but this story isn't quite dead just yet. Let's not talk about the time between the last installments, however - mostly because I'm hoping to just look the other way at my horrible time management and planning skills. But anyway! Here it is, folks - the parting of the clouds! The angst is finally beginning to thin out. This is still more of an interlude, a stepping stone if you will, before things begin to *happen* in subsequent parts. I hope you'll enjoy it all the same.
Also, to anyone who stuck around this long - my most sincere gratitude to you all. I've been sitting on this part for 9 months now and it has plagued me each and every day. So, I truly do hope you enjoy this little slice. I'm sorry it wasn't worth the long wait. I'll try to make up for all that in the next part.
You can find all previous parts here, under The Incident™ Installments.
It was a considerate gesture.
Awards season is always hectic. There’s so much to do and so many places to be, and so little time to do it all in. Sure, there’s managers and assistants and handlers, all helping their talent stumble through the complimentary chaos that comes and goes like clockwork each year. It never ceases to be overwhelming, though.
That’s why little things like this are so stupidly appreciated. It isn’t unusual to receive congratulatory gifts from other artists and companies – in fact, more idols are friends with each other than not. Still, amidst all the rehearsals, schedules, and traveling, it’s hard to find the time to express sentimentality. At least to those not within the same company.
This is hardly Bangtan’s first rodeo, though, and over the years they’ve made quite a name for themselves. Garnered the respect and admiration of their fans and peers. So when they walk into work each morning during this season, it’s far from unusual to see a collection of bouquets or gift baskets awaiting them. Still, it’s humbling each and every time, and they make sure to afford the appreciation each gift deserves.
That’s how Hoseok came across the card. It was tucked into a small assortment of flowers and balloons, all of which were vibrant and radiating cheer. It was his turn to reach the felicitations aloud, so he’d opened the envelope and flashed the others the shiny front as if it were an award itself. Then he’d opened it with his usual boisterous flair, lips poised to sing the song of congratulations within – until suddenly, it felt like all the air was knocked clean out of his lungs. It was signed by an up-and-coming group from one of the smaller agencies, their messy signatures scrawled haphazardly along the bottom of the card. Each name had a small handwritten note above it to add a personal touch, but it was the main message that caught him off guard. The slopes and slants of each character, the way it weighted to the right. The distinguishing little squiggle of a smiley face at the very end. He knew that handwriting.
You.
You had penned the celebratory tidings yourself. That’s why the names suddenly looked familiar. This was a congratulations from the group you now handled. The group that had taken you away from him.
It wasn’t a fair way to view them, Hoseok knew that. He just couldn’t help it. Just as he couldn’t blame you for making the decision to leave. Your contentment at HYBE had been tentative, temporary at best. You were never meant for office duty, to be cooped up in a glass cage all day. And despite the tarnish to your reputation, your work ethic still spoke volumes. Bang PD had made sure of it. It was only a matter of time before someone else came along to headhunt you.
Hoseok had done some snooping, seeking what information he could get on this new group. He even looked into the company itself, ensuring that they would treat you right. That it was a place where you could be happy. There were no red flags to be found, not even as far down as he had dug. He only hoped they would offer you the future you deserved.
A few months into your employment, the group really started to take off. Their mini album had reached the charts, their video channel surpassed 500,000 views, and they’d been nominated for their first awards show, where they would be performing the nominated song. It was also one of the awards shows where Bangtan had several nominations of their own. Initially, it hadn’t been in the schedule for them to attend, but once Hoseok learned that your group would be there – and, by association, you – he'd played every card he had until he’d convinced the company to send them.
Anything for the chance to see you again.
He’d been unsure whether or not you even still thought about him. If you wondered where he was, what he was doing. Who he was with. The radio silence on your end had told him you didn’t. Many times he had wanted to reach out, to try and initiate any form of contact, but he could never bring himself to do it. He was too afraid of the rejection. After all, you’d more than proven that you were just fine without him.
Until now. Until this card. The company could have had an assistant make it up, write out the same old boring commendations and have the talent sign their names to it. Instead, you had handwritten a personal message, made sure the genuine pride and happiness for their seonbaenims was sincerely and accurately conveyed. And if he was a gambling man, Hoseok would bet it all that you even chose the bouquet yourself.
“Hoseok-ah?”
His attention snaps up at the call of his name, soft and questioning. His members are all staring at him with varying degrees of concern. That’s when he feels the wetness in his eyes, the vise around his throat. In his hands, the card has begun to shake.
“What is it?” Namjoon asks, approaching with a careful hand. He takes hold of the card, waits for Hoseok to release it. The paper is creased where his fingers gripped too tightly. Hoseok sniffs and wipes roughly at his eyes as Namjoon scans the message.
“What does it say?” Jungkook asks, leg bouncing in anticipation.
Namjoon’s brow furrows. He looks to Hoseok, who is pointedly staring across the room, before back to the card. His lips purse together in thought as he reads the message again. Deciphers the signatures of its senders.
Realization dawns on him like a sunrise, lighting his face in a rosy recognition. The autographs are clumsy, the sloppy signature of someone unpracticed. All of which are at odds with the firm, delicate writing of a more feminine hand. Someone clearly not a part of the group itself.
Namjoon ignores Jungkook’s question in favor of his own. “Y/N sent this?”
The room titters at the sound of your name. Hoseok isn’t the only one who misses you.
Hoseok swallows and nods his head. “It’s from her new company, the new group she’s working with. And it – it’s her handwriting.”
“I wanna see!”
The other members clamber toward their leader, each vying for a glimpse at the card. Namjoon sounds very much like a father of young children as he scolds their grabby hands, warning against ripping the card. Hoseok takes this time to examine the bouquet closely, poking at the balloons and running fingertips over flower petals. It’s a sweet arrangement, pretty and fun.
One of the balloons pops off its plastic stick and Hoseok fumbles to catch it before it hits the floor. It’s just large enough that it’s a little hard to grip, slipping between his fingers until he’s able to secure both hands around it. Huffing in equal parts annoyance and amusement, he turns to place it back in its rightful spot, when he’s struck by another unsuspecting detail of the bouquet.
There’s a sunflower, right in the middle of everything. Just the one. Usually, the flowers are repeated or at least similar in color and design. He can’t help but suspect that this was intentional, and it so, he’s not sure his heart can handle soaring at such an altitude. Because you told him once how he reminds you of a sunflower, bright and bold and open.
Balloons forgotten, Hoseok reaches out to skim the petals of the sunflower. There’s water in his eyes again, but happiness in his smile.
You haven’t forgotten him. Not yet. Now, he just has to make sure it stays that way.
→ Taglist is open! Send an ask if you’d like to be added to my general taglist, or if you’d like tagged for a specific fic series or member! @jinfizz @hobi-love @folkpunkrock-littlewing-blog @dvalitaes @pb-n-juju @fangirls94 @halesandy
©reneejuliet 2022. No part of this material may be copied, photocopied, reproduced, reposted, or translated without consent.
#btsghostie#bts drabbles#hoseok drabble#hoseok fanfic#hoseok fanfiction#hoseok fic#hoseok angst#hoseok fluff#hoseok oneshot#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#bts fic#bts oneshot#kpop drabbles#kpop fanfic#kpop fanfiction#kpop oneshot#jhope fanfic#jhope fic#jhope oneshot#jung hoseok#jhope#hoseok x reader#hoseok idol au#bts idol au#bts imagines#The Incident™#The Incident™ Installents#leave everything you need#reneejuliet
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I just started med school and I can say it is something different surely. Can I get Bruno whose s/o's days suddenly have started filling up with only medical studies? She adores it but also gets easily frustrated cause time, schedules, and self care- thank u
IDK WHEN THIS WAS ASKED BUT I HOPE THAT YOUR STUDIES ARE GOING AMAZING HUN WISHING YOU ALL THE BEST IN WHATEVER YOU DECIDE TO DO!! ♡♡♡
Had an absolute blast working on this one hope you enjoy it~ ♡
======
♡ Bruno is so, so proud of you and all of the effort that you’re currently putting into your studies. It’s a tough field to pursue, and though your commitment to your studies leaves you with less and less free time than you once had, it’s clear you’ve got a passion for the work, and he won’t shy away from letting you know just how admirable he finds it that you’ve chosen a field to study in. The day you got accepted to study at your chosen University he’d taken you into his arms and held you close, with praising words nothing short of adoring as he’s pressed a kiss to your forehead and smoothed a hand through your hair mussed from the mad dash you’d made to tell him the news.
♡ It goes without saying but he is incredibly supportive, and Bruno’s love language is acts of service so he is sure to do plenty for you in the name of supporting your goals and letting you know you’ve got someone in your corner the whole time. He does enjoy cooking, though he doesn’t have the chance to do it as often as he’d like; so when he’s able Bruno will cook for you and help you meal prep foods that you can transport to and from school/work. If your medical field requires a particular placement these meals are an absolute lifesaver when things are so hectic you don’t have time to buy anything for your break. If time allows he’ll sometimes even be able to drop them off for you personally, though fair warning it’ll be hard to ignore the colleagues fawning over how sweet a couple the pair of you make the whole time (because trust me Bruno knows how to play the crowd your coworkers will be congratulating you for weeks for snagging such a caring partner.)
♡ On the times where neither of you have the time to cook he’ll order something to pick up straight from Libeccio’s and bring it home for you both to enjoy. Even if it’s something quick, he wants to make sure that you’re taking the time to get something to eat to give you energy between work and your studies to make them more manageable. There’s nothing worse than trying to get everything done on an empty stomach. Not to mention that he uses this as a way to spend some quality time together with you - he finds a lot of comfort in these little domestic moments together, and it gives you time to both catch up on what's been going on in your respective lives. Brun’s an attentive listener while you talk about your studies, life and everything in between; while he enjoys hearing you chat about what’s going on, he loves being able to spend this quality time with you far more. Whatever you want to talk about he’ll gladly lend an ear if it means getting to spend more time with you. Your time has become a precious commodity now thanks to your studies, and he wants to monopolize on it as much as you’ll allow, giving your hand a gentle squeeze across the table and leaning closer to study the look on your face as you speak.
♡ Will absolutely leave little notes for you - words of encouragement and reminders for all of the little events that you have to look forward to once you’re next free - he hopes that they’re enough to get you through the rougher parts of your day and give you a goal to aim towards once your work is finished. While he would much rather gives you these notes of motivation verbally than over notes, the strict schedule your both currently under doesn’t always leave time for that. Unfortunately, being a Capo comes with many new responsibilities on top of everything he was taking care of before, so he’s away from you more often than he’d like. To make up for it Bruno compensates by communicating through these notes he leaves for you in places you’ll always find them - stuck to your door, or the bathroom mirror, or tacked to the kitchen fridge.
♡ If you’re the type of person who has to study locked away in a particular room he won’t disturb you, though you may occasionally turn away from your desk or computer to find a loving note placed alongside a drink or snack close by that was there before. A little pick-me-up between studies thanks to a bit of sneaky help from Sticky fingers
♡ Bruno admittedly does get worried that you’re sometimes not taking the time to take care of yourself properly, or giving yourself enough breaks - your work ethic is truly, truly inspiring, but between classes, studies, assignments and everything else it is important to find the time to take a break and enjoy the little things. (ironic coming from the man currently holding the #no1 overworked Capo award this side of the globe, but your rebuttals always seem to fall on deaf ears). God forbid you live with or have any other members of the gang around at the time because he will call in to check on you and if you haven’t been taking care of yourself one of them is absolutely telling Bruno. Trust me the gang love you as their own, and if you’re dating Bruno you’ve already been somewhat absorbed into the little found family they’ve got forming; but if they find you aren’t taking proper care of your mental or physical health while you work? Especially in such a demanding field of study? Yeah you aren’t standing a chance, so staying on top of your wellbeing is important.
♡ Bruno will gladly work around both of your schedules to set aside time for you to relax both on your own and as a couple. Prefers to try and get you out of the house at least once in a while, even if it's only for a small chunk of time. Be it park dates or a stroll through the local shops or taking you out to see friends or family that you’ve been missing since you’ve been cooped up working - just say the place and he’ll do whatever he can to get you there just to see you smile. These days out together aren’t just so he can spend quality time with you however (though they’re a huge part to why he insists on them) - getting away from your usual work setting periodically helps to prevent burnout and allows you to better tackle your problems with a fresh mind and a clearer head than before - the new perspective definitely helps a little and can give you motivation to draw back on when you’re grueling through some of the harder study days.
♡ The little victories are cause for big celebrations. Even if you don’t think there’s anything big worth celebrating, every step forward you take in your studies is a little victory. You’ll find yourself awash with gifts that clearly have your tastes taken to heart - your favorite desserts, accessories you’ve eyed up while out together. Those aren’t the only gifts however, as he will gladly praise you for all of your hard work, peppering your cheeks and lips with kisses as he assures you that, with all the effort that you’ve been putting in, there is no doubt that you’ll succeed, and how proud he’ll be to see your work pay off in the end.
♡ Is especially attentive when exam season rolls around as, understandably, it’s the most intense and stressful times of the year. It would be a lie to say he doesn’t miss you terribly when this time rolls around as even with your schedules leave free time thin to begin with, the time you get to spend together for longer than a couple of hours are few and far between when the exams start making themselves known.
♡ Will help you with your exam prep if there’s anything that you need memorized or have to remember. Bruno is the kind of partner who will read through some of the focus points in your school books and remember them by heart so he can help quiz you through some of the sections you struggle with. Sure, you can always study on your own, and he will leave you to it if you insist on needing the time alone to focus, but just knowing that you’ve got a little support system set up in your partner who’s been in your corner this whole time is a much needed comfort that will truly help in getting you through these exam seasons in one piece.
#jjba#jjba headcanon#jjba bruno#headconon#part 5#vento aureo#bruno bucciarati#bruno buccellati#bruno's gang#bruno#request#jjba x reader#ghost's post#jjba imagine#jjba imagines
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Trust (Èric García x Reader ft. Ferran Torres)
**There is a reason why I moved this request to the first one on the list and it’s that I got it the day I had a dream about Èric. So I used the dream and changed it a bit to create this imagine. I had joked about doing that before getting the request so the timing is hilarious. And don’t judge my dreams. I only dreamed a tiny part of this, the rest is made up. Also, I fall asleep checking my IG explore and there were photos of him with the Betis kit so my brain did that. Second also, I don’t want him to go to Betis but we move…Enjoy!! ❤️**
Word count: 2801
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“I mean, the train tickets are pretty cheap but it’s almost 7 hours on the train. It kind of defeats the purpose of trying to spend as much of my free time with you”, you complained, closing your laptop and sighing.
“It’s only 2 hours if you take the plane”.
“I guess…I don’t want to make this harder for you by complaining but it’s like when Ferran left for Manchester all over again”.
“Is it?”
Eric’s tone confused you. It was almost like he sounded bothered by you comparing both situations but yeah, your best friend leaving to go to England was similar to your boyfriend leaving to play in Sevilla. Because in both cases you were stuck first in Valencia and now in Barcelona.
“We’ll make it work. That’s all that matters”.
He nodded, smiling at you. And you couldn’t help but move closer to cuddle him. It really was important to make the most out of every single second together. You always had but now that your relationship was turning into a long-distance one, it became even more vital.
Your work schedule was pretty flexible, so your plan was to play it by ear every week comparing yours to Eric's so you could find a way to travel to Sevilla on his days off. And so you could try to attend as many of his games as possible.
“I’ll come back whenever possible too. It’s not fair that only you make the effort of travelling”.
“Yeah, I know”, you said, “I mean, your whole family is here so you wouldn’t be just coming back for me but I’ll be looking forward to that”.
“Don’t tell my parents but I’ll be mostly coming back for you”.
You both laughed and you kept just staring at his face, as if trying to memorize it. And it was while looking at him that you fell asleep. Eric, however, was awake most of the night. And not just because of the nerves of moving to another city and another club again. No, there were bigger issues preventing him from falling asleep.
**
The next morning you took your little suitcase and made your way to the airport with Eric. His family was going to join you there, but they planned on going back to Barcelona later that evening. You, however, were supposed to stay with Eric in Sevilla for a couple of days. It wasn’t going to be your first time visiting the city but it was your first chance to make memories there with your boyfriend.
“Nervous?”, you asked Eric, taking his hand so you could hold it.
“I guess a little”.
“It’ll be fine. Young players going on loan is a very normal thing”.
“I know”, he sighed and you stopped talking about it, noticing he wasn’t in the right headspace for that conversation.
By the time you arrived at the Benito Villamarín stadium, your nerves were getting worse. Sevilla was so far away from Barcelona. What if you couldn’t make the relationship work? What if Eric met someone while you were away? And if he didn’t do well��you wouldn’t be there to comfort him. You needed to stop overthinking because you were about to have a panic attack.
"Ready?", asked one of the Betis people who had been with you since you landed in Sevilla.
Eric nodded, taking your hand and you followed them to the little room where he was going to sign his contract and take photos.
When it was your turn to pose with him and the white and green shirt he was going to wear at the new club, you forced yourself to smile as big as possible. He needed you to be positive so you would be.
"Our car has arrived. Have fun, lovebirds", said Eric's mum before giving you both a hug.
"See you in a couple of days", told you his sister and you nodded. "I can pick you up at the airport".
"Don't worry, I'll call a taxi. But thank you".
They all left, leaving you and Eric alone for the first time since you left your home in Barcelona that morning.
"I booked a table at a restaurant that's supposed to be really good".
"Romantic dinner for two?"
You smiled, feeling a bit more relaxed now that the formalities were done.
The restaurant was great and you didn't know when you'd be able to spend two nights in a row with Eric again, so you also made sure that was special.
But once again, Eric couldn't sleep well. And this time, you noticed.
"Why are you awake? It's only 7".
"I didn't sleep much".
"You ok?", you asked, caressing his jaw and noticing how tense he was. "Eric …".
"I worry about you".
"Me? Don't. I'm a big girl. And it's not as if I'll be all alone in Barcelona. Your family is there and I also have Ferran".
"Yeah, I guess you could always go to him if you feel lonely".
That tone again. What was wrong with him?
You sat up, not sure what was going on.
"What is that supposed to mean? And why are you using that tone whenever I mention Ferran lately?"
"Because I found out about you two".
"Excuse me? What about us two? You know we've been friends since kindergarten. There’s nothing else to know about us".
"I do know that", he said, unsure how to approach his next few words. "What you two forgot to tell me was about how you two used to sleep together".
Eric could tell he had messed up the moment he saw your reaction.
"When did that happen? I must have missed it".
"I saw the video…".
"A video? What are you even talking about now?"
"It's ok. I just don't like that you didn't share it with me. I would have liked to learn that from you two…".
"How am I supposed to tell you about something that didn't happen?!"
You couldn't believe what he was saying. So you got up and started to pack your things.
"What are you doing? You are staying with me for another day".
"No I'm not staying", you laughed angrily.
"Why? Please stay".
"Eric! I don't want to stay with someone that doesn't believe me when I tell him I didn't sleep with my best friend and that thinks I'll do the same the moment he leaves the city".
"I don't…".
"Just stop talking and making the situation worse".
He listened to you and stopped talking. He just looked at you while you packed the few things you had brought with you and didn't do anything when you walked towards the door.
"I don't know what you believe you saw", you said, turning back to look at him. "But it hurts that your trust in me is so easily replaced by whatever thoughts are going through your head right now".
Eric swallowed, feeling more stupid than he had ever before. He really had messed up.
**
Later that day, he was back at the little apartment the club found for him when he heard his phone ring. He hoped it would be you but it wasn't. It was Ferran.
"What did you do?"
"What do you mean?"
"Oh you know, just that I asked my best friend about why she was back already when she was supposed to stay for a couple of days with her boyfriend and she screamed in my face", Eric sighed hearing that. "And when I asked what the issue was she told me to ask him because he thinks he knows everything. Just quoting so…what did you do?"
"I fucked up".
"I guessed that much, yeah. But how exactly?"
"Ferran, I need you to be honest with me, ok?"
"I always am".
"Did you two ever sleep together?"
There was a moment of silence before Ferrán answered the question. "First of all, gross. She's like a sister to me. Second, where the fuck did you get that idea from? And third, how were you stupid enough to tell her that?"
"I…".
"No need to answer them in order, smart guy. Just answer".
He wasn't feeling very smart just then.
"Someone sent me a video".
"A video?"
"I can send it to you".
"Send it", said Ferran, hanging up so his friend could send him the video and when he saw it, he was even more mad.
Eric was waiting for his friend to call back again. The seconds feeling like hours.
"Is that not you two?"
"Yes. And you're a bigger idiot than I thought. Please tell me you didn't show her the video".
"I didn't".
The video Eric had been sent showed Ferran approaching a group of people at a party. When he made it there, you ran towards him and jumped in his arms, kissing his face and making him laugh. The video ended with you two leaving the place holding hands and the guy who was recording saying "now she's single she'll go back to fucking him again", to which someone else said "she probably was doing that behind Roberto's back".
"Do you want to know what really happened that day and after that little clip you saw?"
"Please, explain it to me".
**
3 years earlier
Finding out your boyfriend had been cheating on you was the most devastating thing that had happened to you. Days were spent crying and not wanting to leave the bed, until one of your friends forced you to go to a party with her and some other of your friends.
Your now ex and you shared so many friends, it was almost like they had to pick sides. Most of the girls picked yours…and all of the boys picked his.
At the party, you saw them but you didn't see him so at least there was that. But it hurt. It hurt a lot. And the only way you thought it could stop hurting was by drinking. One shot turned into four and then shots weren't enough and you moved to something bigger. Something stronger.
You were so wasted, your friends didn't know what to do with you so they called Ferran. He was the only friend you had that didn't belong to that group and the boys always gave you a hard time because of it. To them, he was Ferran the footballer. To you, he was the guy you became friends with when you were both told off for trying to eat the Play-Doh when you were 4.
"Where is she?", he asked, not noticing the phone pointed at him filming him. They did that a lot, hoping they could find him in an embarrassing situation and make money out of it.
"Ferriiiii", you laughed, jumping into his arms and kissing his face.
Ferran put you down, holding your hand so you wouldn't fall or get lost in the crowd. And he led you home.
But you didn't want to go there so he took you to the beach. The place where you were always the happiest.
"The stars are pretty", you said, lifting your arm and trying to touch them.
Ferran only laughed, laying down in the sand next to you and staring at the same stars you were so hypnotized by.
None of you noticed the tide rising and all of a sudden, the sea touched your bare feet, which made you get up and scream.
"Stop that!", said Ferran, grabbing your arms and sitting you down in the sand again, away from the sea. "Never drink this much again, please".
"He broke my heart, Ferri", and hearing you say that broke his again.
"I know. You should let me break his face".
"Just break his dick".
"Too small. Why bother?"
You both laughed.
"I'll never let anyone do this to you again".
"You'll never let me date anyone again".
"I will if you find someone I trust".
You looked up at him. "Maybe I should date you".
And you didn't even finish saying that before you both burst out laughing.
"No".
"No".
**
"And that's you".
"What do you mean that's me?", asked Eric, who had been silently listening to his friend's words.
"You are the person I trusted enough to let you date her. And now you do this. You don't know how long it took her to recover from what that bastard did to her. And those comments from the video? They used that to justify his cheating on her. How could it be wrong if she was my friend? If there was surely something going on between us?"
"You were wrong then. I don't deserve her".
Ferran rolled his eyes, even if his friend couldn't see him.
"You do. But you have to fix this and quickly. Every day she hurts because of you, my trust in you diminishes".
Eric sighed. "What am I supposed to do? I'm stuck here for the next few days and she won't come back to see me".
"Think of something then. You messed up, you fix it".
Eric knew his friend was right, so the next day he asked if it was possible for him to do all the media stuff he needed to do in one day. That way, he could go to Barcelona for a couple of days and talk to you.
“I mean, sure. But it’d be exhausting to do all of it today. That’s why we planned for it to be done in three days”.
“I don’t mind. Let’s do it”.
When you got home after work, you noticed a few things that worried you. There was nothing in the mailbox, which was unusual. And when you opened the door, you noticed it wasn't locked. Who could have…
**
But you didn't have to wonder for long because Eric called your name when he heard the door open.
"What are you doing here? You should be in Sevilla".
"I managed to get back for a couple of days".
"To make sure I didn't sleep with anyone?"
He closed her eyes and let out a sigh. "I'm sorry".
"I'll need more than that".
"I spoke to Ferran. He explained everything to me".
"Why couldn't you speak to me before accusing me of those things? I get he’s your friend and you’ve known him for longer but I’m your girlfriend".
"Because I was scared. I was sad about having to leave on loan and then I got a message with that video and…".
"What video? That's the part that made the least sense out of everything you said to me".
Eric had asked Ferran if it was ok for him to show you the video now and after some arguing about it, they decided you could only understand Eric's reaction if you saw it.
When you took his phone, you saw the name Sergio Goiko as the person who sent it. Your ex's best friend. Of course.
"You might want to see this".
"Now you're leaving Barcelona, she'll be there all alone with her "best friend"...".
"I see you've seen my message and still didn't dump her. She's lucky to be dating someone so dumb. Easier to do all of this behind your back".
The last message was sent the day of his presentation as Betis' new player. Sergio must have seen your photos together and realised his plan didn’t work out the way he expected.
"I mean…I get being manipulated like this can confuse you, Eric. I don't blame you for that. But why didn't you ask me? Why didn't you trust me to explain this to you?"
"I don't know…".
"I…I struggled to trust you when we first started dating. Not because of you. Because of what I've been through in the past. It’s an issue I’ll always have to deal with, probably".
"I never felt like you didn't trust me".
"I didn't think it was fair to let you know that when you did nothing wrong. But I've always worried. I mean, just the other day I was worried about you meeting someone else in Sevilla and dumping me, you know? But I didn't want to tell you because it wouldn't be fair to hurt you just because I am insecure. Don't do that to me".
"I won't. I'm really sorry. And if you ever have those doubts, just talk to me so I can reassure you".
When you put your arms around his waist and your head on his chest, he could finally breathe easily again.
"I made some food for you"
"You did?", you looked up to see him nod. "You really worked hard for that apology, huh?"
"Anything for you".
"Will you learn how to make Andalusian food for when I visit you?"
“I like that you trust me but maybe you shouldn’t trust my cooking abilities that much”.
#eric garcia#ferran torres#eric garcia imagine#eric garcia one shot#eric garcia angst#eric garcia fluff#footballer imagine#footballer one shot#footballer fluff#footballer angst#footballer x y/n
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My anxiety is still percolating.
I think it's both the changing of the seasons and then just... three straight months of drinking and staying out late every single weekend (no ragrats.)
I took this weekend off from drinking and went cozy. Normal weekly walk, then went to the the thrift store, got a nice new leather jacket (for $7!!!), wandered an antique store, got some new plants from a local plant store. Rearranged the house a little, sort of in preparation of winter. Give myself new things to look at, and nice plants to be surrounded with as the winter months come in. Crocheted every night for admittedly way too long.
And today. Still anxious. Like. It's not wild. It's actually annoying. If you've had anxiety for a long time maybe you understand. Analytically I know the source. Analytically nothing has changed and everything is fine. But physically, it's just a pervasive feeling in my chest. Little flutters. Tightness in my throat. Tired. Like I want to go home and sleep after work, but I know (aNaLyTiCaLlY) that going to the gym will make me feel better. But also, when my anxiety is high like this the cardio portion of the workouts tend to be hard which is embarrassing (to me) because I have to take more rests during the workout so my heart rate doesn't spike and I don't have a panic attack. :) So. One of the things that will absolutely help me feel better will also stress me out potentially.
I have a climbing date this Saturday. Then a concert with friends Sunday.
Next weekend is blissfully blank, so probably another stay in weekend.
Then the weekend after that hair, more climbing, and the ren fair.
Then camping.
I'm both glad I have these scheduled reasons to keep poking my head out of the house... and also... part of me wants to cancel everything. Almost sold my concert ticket to get gear for camping... And half want to cancel the camping and just stay home but off work for those days... aha.
It is going to be cold, and I believe I can make it cozy and fun, but it's going to be highly dependent on the weather. If it looks like it's going to rain the whole time I really may pass... I want to go. I want to camp and hike and collect rocks... I just wish it wasn't 10hrs from home. That part makes it such an ordeal... And even though I'm not new to camping I haven't camped for more than a day since before The Time of Darkness and the time of year I'm going is just a little less forgiving than say early summer. Wet, chilly...early dusk.
Kind of over dating. Did it all summer... have so many matches and unread messages... Don't think I have another yap session with a stranger in me. I just. Don't like anyone. I'm still at a point where even when I think someone seems nice a part of me thinks "Well you thought Haley was nice too. Anyone can be nice in the beginning." And it's just... still not fun. I still want a slow burn with someone who I can get to know and trust and then find feelings... not someone for whom I've decided I'm going to have feelings... and then discover if they're trustworthy after when I've already become invested. I know pretty clearly what I want and what does and doesn't work for me, I'm way more cutthroat in when I call things off/honoring that, which I think is good... but... it shrinks the dating pool quite a lot... and... You know. There are still things I want.
I'd really like... to be able to smoke myself into a coma one weekend without being afraid of agonizing pain. But. It's. Fine.
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Monstrously Simple Days at College
Chapter Three: Don't Disturb the Witch
Masterpost | First | Previous | Next | Ao3
Story Summary: Humans and Monsters live together in harmony and that means they all get to go to college together. Roman, Remus, Janus, Virgil, Logan and Patton are big group of friends that may be a bit chaotic with all the different monster cultures they hail from. College itself is hard too, but with them all supporting each other, it can’t be that bad, can it?
Content Warnings: Janus is irritating Logan on purpose but it is part of their friendship and Logan isn't too annoyed by it
~~*~~
It took Logan only two weeks to get over their annoyance of a summer spent doing nothing but rituals and potion brewing and get back to doing those things in his free time to satisfy his curiosity. Thankfully the college provides small laboratories for the witch students to use that are shared between a group of four to five. Logan has managed to book the room for twelve hours to use it undisturbed and they are determined to make good use of it, especially since Remus is busy with its own project.
The potion recipe he had selected for today would take up almost all of the allotted twelve hours with a little time designated for clean-up after, so they are working on a strict schedule. Which is why as soon as they enter the room, they get to work. He sets up the book holder by the cauldron and uses a fire spell to ignite the wood placed underneath the huge metal container to get it heated up and ready to boil the water he adds next. Afterwards, he bustles from cabinet to cabinet to gather the ingredients he’ll need and neatly arranges them for later use.
They get absorbed into their work immediately. Potion brewing is a very routine process that Logan enjoys immensely – at least if it’s for their own ambitions and not just because the coven decided they had to help out.
Well, that wasn’t entirely fair, Logan had enjoyed the experiences he’d made over the summer, a lot of it had been fascinating and he’d learned a lot but there was also a lot of mundane, easy and repetitive task sprinkled in between that he could have done without.
But that was in the past, now he has a potion he is actually excited to work on to brew.
Several hours into the process, Logan is busy carefully counting how many times he’s stirring the tincture when the door to the laboratory opens.
“I have this room booked until 3am, so whatever it is you need, do it quietly and get out, please,” Logan says without looking up and while he continues to count. The door closes again, and they assume the other party left. They are proven wrong as a hand comes into view that glides along the edge of the cauldron, sharp claws scratching against the metal. Thankfully for them, it was not currently boiling and as such not hot to the touch.
“Hey Logan,” a familiar voice purrs before Janus is suddenly hopping to sit up on the cauldron’s edge to Logan’s right, his sharp grin only a short distance from Logan’s face. His wings keep him stabilized on the edge, one of them lightly tapping Logan’s left shoulder.
“Janus, I do not have time for your games right now,” Logan sighs, risking a short glance up to his friend, who just continues smirking at him. “I thought I made myself clear that I was busy with this potion for the rest of the day.”
“Oh, relax a bit Logan, you’re working too hard!” Janus laughs, lightly bumping his shoulder against Logan’s. “Taking a break won’t kill you.”
“If it eases your worries to know, I have taken several breaks as there are times in the process of brewing this potion where it has to rest and is not to be interfered with. I have eaten adequately and hydrated myself. But right now, I need to concentrate.”
“Concentrate on what? You’re just stirring in a circle.”
“Yes, and I need to do so precisely 500 times. So I am counting.”
“What are you at then? 54? 167? 349?”
“I know you are attempting to throw off my count, Janus, and I do not appreciate it. Please leave and find someone else to entertain you.”
“Aw, but Logan!” Janus pouts very dramatically and not at all sincerely. “I barely have had the opportunity to spend some time with you since the semester started! Remus has been keeping you all to themselves and I’m missing my friend!”
Logan is not about to fall for their dramatics.
“If you are so keen on spending time with me, you should have brought it up to me in my free time. I am working right now and would appreciate if you no longer disturb me.”
“So cold! I am saddened beyond belief! How can you be so indifferent to my attempts to simply spend time with you.”
“If you insist on spending time with me right this minute, then I would suggest a type of parallel play where the two of us engage in different activities while in the same space. If you would like to read a book, I will not mind you remaining in the room. As long as you let me continue with my work.”
“You’re no fun, Logan,” Janus groans, leaning harder into Logan’s side this time which almost interrupts his steady stirring.
“I am not in the mood for your jokes, Janus,” Logan presses out through grit teeth as he tenses his arms to keep the stirs even. “I am busy. Respect my boundaries or I will make you do so.”
“Uhhh, that sounds like a challenge, Logan.”
“It is not, Janus. It is an ultimatum. Leave now.”
“What could you possibly do to make me leave when you’re so busy with your counting?” Janus hops down from his perch and stalks around Logan, his wings fluttering in excitement. “You’re stuck in place, aren’t you? Unable to take your eyes off of your work for more than a fraction of a second. And don’t most of your spells need at least one free hand?”
“They do indeed. Thankfully for me, that makes 500.”
Before Janus can react, Logan pulls his staff out of the potion as that’s what he was stirring with, and with his left hand he pulls something out of his pocket.
“Now, wait—” Janus starts objecting but is cut off as Logan blows a handful of dark blue dust in his face. He starts spluttering and tries to wipe the stuff off of his face but quickly, he feels his consciousness fading.
“Wha—” he mumbles. “Wha’ di’ you dooo?”
“It’s a simple sleeping spell,” Logan explains matter-of-factly. “Judging by the rings under your eyes, it seems to me like you need the rest.” Janus glares at them but before he can retort, his knees give in and Logan quickly casts a levitation spell to catch him. They carefully float him over to the large window where the last beams of the setting sun spill into the room. The wide windowsill is covered with pillows and blankets as many a witch tends to spend a night in the laboratory while working on a more complex spell or potion.
Janus is slightly snoring in his sleep by the time Logan lowers him down on the comfy cushions and pulls a blanket over him.
“You really should find a healthier way to cope with your insomnia,” Logan whispers as they watch their friend sleep. “I will talk with the others about this tomorrow.”
Then they go back to their potion. They still have another five hours of work ahead of them after all.
#namiswriting#Monstrously Simple Days at College#Chapter 3: Don't Disturb the Witch#platonic loceit#ts logan#logan sanders#ts janus#janus sanders#fluff#well kinda#janus is annoying on purpose#but logan knows how to retaliate so it's fine#monster au#college au#sanders sides#fanfiction#reblogs are appreciated
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capstone update #4
dilemma / struggle
I am not too happy with my capstone project. Just being honest.
I made some progress over this past month, but there are also just so many things that went wrong. I already wrote in one of my other posts about how the whole ʻUluʻulu request process was going. A lot of back-and-forthing, a lot of time and work put into it... So far, with nothing to show for my efforts. Let me continue that story now.
There's footage I had my heart set on -- MY MISTAKE. It turns out I can't use it. The collection owner is planning to produce something with it soon, so they denied my request. That's fair, because it's up to the copyright holder if they want to allow someone else to use their materials. But it really throws me off, because I had a lot of ideas about how I would use that footage in my project. It was actually more than one thing. I screened these files, took detailed notes (basically wrote transcripts of parts) and sent my carefully selected timestamps to the archivist. She had me write a "one page" to send along with my request to the collection owner, explaining my project and my intent for the footage. It ended up being a huge amount of wasted time. I had heard some horror stories about incorporating archival footage into film projects. But it's a whole other thing to live through it yourself. It's pretty devastating, and also a bit... infuriating.
It's negative in more ways than one. First of all, all the time I spent ideating about how I would use the footage, how it connected with my themes and helped to tell the story, what sorts of b-roll I would edit it together with -- all of that was a wasted effort. I could have been using that time and energy on something else. But a lot of times, there's no way to know that until you're at the end of the process. I was prioritizing this footage in particular, ahead of other archival clips. And now I'm thinking it might be too late for me to get any archival materials before the time that our deliverables are due. I've been screening and requesting clips from another batch of titles, and things are in the works, but it may all be for naught.
There were also other titles I was hoping to use that I found out were unavailable. For example, I was hoping to use clips from an episode of the classic show Pau Hana Days, only to find out that the show is never approved for duplication by its owners. Really great! Tisha the archivist has been incredibly helpful. It's not her fault! But I'm getting really sick of trying to incorporate archival footage.
It's a lot of work for things that might not be able to make it into my deliverable. And it's not just time wasted screening and requesting the footage. It's time wasted reconsidering things that I had thought were solved, things like the structure of my doc. The story I am trying to tell. I'm getting to the point where I need to stop wasting so much time on things that aren't guaranteed and just work with what I have. I currently have a lot less than it seemed I would, so it's getting scary.
Other update: I was going to interview Wayne Tanaka from the Sierra Club of Hawaii last Tuesday, but he came down with covid. Due to my work schedule, I had to reschedule for next Thursday. That's 9 less days that I will have his footage to work with. Also scary.
The good news is that the Ernie interview went really well, except for an equipment problem at one point. I can work around it. Wayne's interview will be great too. I just know that overall, I'm way behind schedule.
Signing off--
#documentary#film#archival footage#warning#roadblocks#suffering#pain#feeling extremely negative about this whole thing#honest blog
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