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#like their careers are a thing they do bc they like doing it with each other
shockercoco · 2 days
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Modern Lonliness
Major John Egan x reader
Warnings - little bit of angst, but mostly fluff
Word count - 2159
a/n - this was literally supposed to be posted over a month ago for the ending of MOTA, but I kept writing for Austin lol. Might as well get it out the drafts now. I also basically had to rewrite the whole thing bc wtf was I thinking a month ago. I hope you enjoy :)
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The war is finally over, allowing all the soldiers to go home, including the two best friends Buck and Bucky. The only thing holding Bucky back from being completely content about leaving is the fact that he doesn’t have that special someone to go back to.
Buck has Marge, and of course he’s happy for him, but Bucky just wishes had found a girl before he got sent off, someone who would know how he was before the war. Buck would always tell him not to worry and that he would find someone soon, but each time it doesn’t give him any reassurance.
You have been best friends with Marge since college, so when she told you her fiance was coming home you had nothing but joy for her. You had been a huge supporter of their relationship since the beginning, and while Buck was away you were always at her house comforting her for when she cried or just needed a friend. During his absence, Buck would write to you to check in on Marge because you and him both knew Marge would never tell him how she was really doing.
Currently, you are walking out of her front door to go back home when you see a taxi pull up in the driveway. You didn’t think anything of it until you saw Buck exiting the vehicle with his bags in hand. You shout for Marge to come outside, and it doesn’t take long for her to sprint into Buck’s arms after seeing him in the driveway. With a smile, you watched as he held onto her tightly and so lovingly, knowing this is exactly what Marge needed after a bad week. 
Deep down, though, you were wishing you had someone coming home to you, someone whose arms you could run into and kiss you like his life depended on it. When it came to the dating scene you never had much luck, so after a while you just accepted the defeat and gave up, deciding it was better to put your energy towards your career. 
During your girl talks, Marge would always tell you that you would find someone soon, and how perfect of a person you were, but year after year of not finding a relationship was making it hard to believe her. 
A couple days after Buck’s return, Marge invited you over because she was hosting a barbeque for Buck and some of his friends. You tried your best to get out of it, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer. She also mentioned that Bucky – Buck’s friend from the military who you’ve only heard while reading letters – would be there and that it would be an opportunity for you.
You didn’t find it unusual that she was trying to set you up with someone because this is what she always does, but you just weren’t in the mood to have small talk with a guy who probably wouldn’t find you attractive.
When Buck had invited Bucky – because when are they not together – he turned down the offer, and just like Marge, Buck wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
So, now here you were in Marge’s backyard surrounded by men and their partners. The only people you knew were the hosts, so you sat on the steps of the back porch with Marge beside you. Marge also didn’t know many of the guests given the fact everyone was Buck’s friend from the military, so she kept you company as she watched Buck man the grill with a few other guys beside him.
Bucky was among them, standing right next to his best friend and sipping on a beer as he talked. Every now and again, he would run a hand through his hair to push some of his loose curls, and you couldn’t deny the fact that he was attractive as you found yourself admiring him from a distance.
“Are you going to say something to him?” Marge asked you as she swished around the lemonade in her glass. She had been watching you this whole time as you practically drooled in the direction of the grill.
“Of course not,” you say as you turn your attention back to her, not before glancing around to see if anyone else had caught you staring. 
Thankfully some of the women had formed a little group and were laughing and gossiping amongst themselves, so there was little chance anyone had noticed you.
“And why not?” asked Marge with furrowed brows. “He’s a nice guy, I promise.”
“I’m sure he is, but it’s not like I know what to say. Plus look at him, he’s way out of my league,” you reply as you take a sip of lemonade from your own glass. 
“No he’s not, he’s just like any other guy,” she scoffs followed by a laugh.
“And just like with any other guy, I have nothing to talk about. What do we even have in common? He also just got back from a war camp in Europe, what if I say something that triggers him? 
“You’re overthinking. Just start off with a simple hello, and then go from there. He’s a huge flirt so knowing him he’ll do most of the talking,” she smiles. 
She was always so optimistic about these kinds of things, but you would be too if you were getting married to a guy who basically worships you.
You quickly finish the last of your lemonade before standing up. “I’m going to get a refill,” you mumble as you walk up the steps and into the house. You needed an excuse to get away from the conversation, and to get out of the heat. The sundress you were wearing was cute and gave you airflow, but it also exposed your arms and legs to harsh sun.
You head into the kitchen and open the fridge to take out the pitcher of lemonade Marge had made earlier in the day. After refilling your glass, you thought it was best to linger in the kitchen for a bit longer and decided to grab a plate of fruit out of the fridge to keep you busy.
Just as you jump up on the kitchen counter to get comfortable, you hear the back door opening. Next thing you know, you see Bucky walking into the kitchen, letting out a sigh that seems to be of exhaustion. He flashes you a smile when he notices you, before proceeding to grab another beer out of the fridge.
“You’re Marge’s friend right?” he asks as he shuts the door and turns to face you. 
“Yep,” is all you say before sticking a grape in your mouth.
“I’m John, but everyone calls me Bucky,” he says. He makes direct eye contact as sticks a hand out for you to shake, which you do, before popping the cap off his beer.
“So I’ve heard. I’ve seen your picture in Marge’s letters,” you respond as you focus your attention on the plate in your hands and begin moving some fruit around.
“Oh, yeah? Did I atleast look good in those pictures? Buck never lets me read his letters,” He smirks as he leans against the counter opposite from you.
You almost choke on the piece of fruit you had just placed in your mouth from his statement. You feel your face and ears turning warm so you turn your head and look out the kitchen window to avoid his gaze.
You stop yourself from smiling and cover it by clearing your throat. “Well  you were in a uniform and in black and white, so I couldn’t really tell.” 
“Understandable, black and white photos can be misleading,” he jokes, taking a swig from his bear. There’s a short silence that follows that isn’t completely awkward, but not exactly comfortable to you either. You hope he doesn’t notice.
The silence is interrupted by the back door opening and Marge sticking her head inside. She grins as her eyes flicker between you and Bucky before stopping on you to say, “Are you coming back out or what?”
“In a second, I’m just going to cool off in here for a bit,” you tell her. She gives you a nod before closing the door.
“Not a fan of big gatherings, I take it,” Bucky says once Marge is gone.
“What makes you say that?” you steal a glance at him before looking back out the window.
You smile as you watch Marge join Buck at the grill, making him turn his head to give her a quick kiss.
“I can tell you’re avoiding going back outside, and I don’t blame you. I’m doing the same thing myself,” he answers.
“What are you avoiding?” you finally turn your head to face him.
“Nothing specific really, I’m just not in the mood for conversating and answering people’s questions right now. That doesn’t include you though,” he looks over at you with a small smile. ” I used to love being around people and having fun, but now all I want to do is leave.” 
You watch as Bucky stares at the wall, going distant. His mood seems to have shifted from the one he had when he first stepped foot in the kitchen. “Everything okay?”
Your voice interrupts his thoughts and brings him back to the present. “Yeah, I’m fine…I’m just…I can tell I’m a different person ever since I got back, and I’m not sure I like this version of me.” He sets his beer on the counter and folds his arms, no longer in the mood to drink it. 
“I don’t think anyone expects you to be the same.”
“Well yeah, it’s just the fact that everyone I meet from now on will only know this version of me. They won’t know how different I was before the war, and they won’t understand what I’ve been through. Like Buck has Marge to talk to, and she understands because of the letters he would send her. I don’t have that,” Bucky says before adding, “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to dump this all on you.”
You just give him a smile. Even though you will never understand completely what Bucky went through, you do have some grasp on what he’s feeling. To you it’s obvious that he puts on a mask when he’s around people, and won’t let his feelings show unless he’s alone – harboring his emotions.
“I know how close you are with Buck, have you ever told him about how you felt? It always helps to talk to someone.” you tell him.
He shakes his head, “No, I don’t want to bother him. He has his own problems.”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind,” you tell him, but he just shakes his head again. “Well...I know we’ve just met, but you could talk to me. I mean, you just opened up to me in a kitchen within ten minutes of meeting me. I’m obviously a great listener Only if you want to, though,” you end with a hopeful smile.
Bucky finally looks away from the wall to look you in the eye with his eyebrows raised. “Really?” he asks and you nod. “That would be nice.”
And that’s where the bond between the two of you started, and it only continued to grow stronger. You would meet up with him for drinks, lunch, or just for a walk through the park. Bucky would tell you everything, from him joining the military and meeting Buck to what he has experienced throughout the past few years. You could tell that he would get emotional when he brought up certain topics, but he never cried around you, even though you always encouraged him to let his feelings out.
One day when he invited you to dinner, you brought it up to Marge. She quickly got excited and said it was a date, but you just brushed it off and told her it was just another casual meeting. Nonetheless, you still decided to put effort into your appearance – more than you normally do – and once the dinner was over, you realized she was right.
Bucky ended up confessing to you how his feelings for you have grown over the past few weeks. At first you were shocked, but when you realized he was being serious, you admitted that you felt the same way. 
You didn’t care that Bucky thought he was a ruined person with a lot of baggage, everyone has their hardships, after all. Bucky loved how you enjoyed being with him after everything he had told you, and how you accepted him for who he is now.
When you eventually told Marge that you and Bucky were official, she wasn’t surprised at all and brought up how she always said you would find someone. When Bucky had told his best friend, Buck was happy for him and gave Bucky his fair share of I told you so’s.
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Something about how Fire & Ice give up on going after Pearl directly, and instead both arrow in on dissing Marina-
Something about, Pearl having no shame at all, outright telling Frye right off that Off the Hook is here to “take control” and then literally talking over Frye’s turn. Frye’s snarking on how Pearl isn’t the boss here and no one’s cheering for her, ignored. How she goes after both Frye and Shiver asking where Frye’s big friend is to help her pass this test, moving right on to saying they’re both just goons making a mess anyway, little fish who should stay in they're bowl, but
that seems to give Frye the idea of hitting back with the “who’s backing you? Imaginary friends?” line… like Marina doesn’t even count as a music partner- or a friend?
Pearl literally yaps about Marina being divine, one of a kind, voice so fine, big mind- raps the lines off her cuff and the heart that's proudly pinned there
And Frye and Shiver go TARGET DETECTED. They lock onto Marina.
Shiver doesn’t bother trying to needle Marina about Pearl, the way their partners were each doing- if Pearl has no shame then at least she DOES still have a weakness, a soft spot, a thing she openly cares about- something they can try riling her up over
(problem: Pearl actually has all the confidence in Marina as a musician, partner, and performer. She's WATCHED Marina be all those things for YEARS now)
In the end Frye and Shiver just rile up the gay feels. Because Marina’s been living with a rapper who LOVES hyping her up even when they’re not on stage- Pearl who said she’d cut a fish for Marina. And if you don’t come to Inkopolis with a lot of self confidence, well then getting some from your girlfriend is fine too  
But it’s cute that Pearl’s still so obvious about being Marina's no. 1 fan that Fire & Ice thought they could use it against her XD
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coquelicoq · 6 months
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what i love about the Famous Actor Natori Shuuichi of it all is that...it's not just that he's famous and therefore widely recognizable wherever he goes. like yes that is very funny because he was an exorcist before he became a famous actor, which means he CHOSE, on purpose, a day job that would make it harder to hide his double life/secret identity from the hordes of his adoring public, but it's more than that. it's not just that he's famous, it's that he's famous specifically for being an ACTOR, aka a person whose job it is to dissimulate, to make believe, to inhabit roles and emotions other than his own. like he decided he was going to become as visible as possible (which again was literally not necessary! he could have gone into any other career for his day job!!) but in such a way that everyone would see him but no one would see him - they would just see his various made-up personas, including the Famous Actor Natori Shuuichi persona. i can't decide if he's a genius or if he just made so many absurd decisions that they canceled each other out and circled back around to working out. he's either playing 9-dimensional chess or he's eating the pieces. too soon to say.
#the other thing i love about it is that in a very real sense it's his actor day job that is his alter ego#being an exorcist is his normie job. he's just a famous celebrity on the side#which isn't that uncommon in secret identity setups but it's still very funny#natsume's book of friends#natsume yuujinchou#natori shuuichi#natsuyuu meta#my posts#f#i think probably the actual answer is that acting was a very natural career choice because he already masks so extensively#both to hide that he can see things other people can't (and that youkai exist and that he exorcises them)#and to hide what he's really feeling so that no one can use it against him#so if it's already something he has to do & he's good at it...why not have someone tell him exactly how to do it & get paid for it?#and the other part of the answer is that most ppl don't go into acting assuming they'll get famous. the fame was a side effect#so each decision as it was being made probably made perfect sense. but put them all together#and you have this hilarious assortment of elements that seem to directly contradict each other#okay also i would be remiss if i didn't mention the other possible answer which is that the attention came first and was unavoidable#and the acting developed from the need to protect himself from the attention that he was going to be attracting no matter what he did#because he's so beautiful. and (in the exorcist world specifically) because he's the last of the natori#the more i talk about it the more i'm like no becoming a famous actor was the only path that made any sense for him lol#1) he's gonna be watched no matter what bc he's him -> gotta figure out how to hide his secrets -> learn to act as self-defense#or 2) he's got secrets -> he's gotten a lot of practice hiding them -> hey you could make a career out of this!#all roads lead to actor natori shuuichi. and since he's beautiful...all roads lead to FAMOUS actor natori shuuichi#i love it when i ramble so much in the tags that i end up contradicting my own post lol#he's neither thinking ten steps ahead nor is he irrational. he's simply making sensible individual decisions#that follow logically from what is available to him and what his priorities are
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skitskatdacat63 · 8 months
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I'm looking at 2009 vettonso pics with cofi rn and they're so AUGHHHHH 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺
Seriously like, calm before the storm, they don't know what's going to happen in the following seasons, they're quite cute with each other, etc. Actually their dynamic in these is similar to what they were like in the later years but the difference of "not knowing what's gonna happen yet" vs. "they've been through so much together and have both come out on the other side."
I mean I'm so vettonso-brained rn, as you know, so take this with a grain of salt, but for me it's like, Fernando looking at Seb like "hmmm who is this rookie, he reminds me of myself when I was in his position"
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STOP BEING SO SOFT, YOU'RE GOING TO KILL ME 😭😭😭
#my personal thesis on vettonso is:#'two people who are very similar and have very paralleled careers but have been pitted against each other +#from the start so they cant see and appreciate those similarities because irs what they hate most about the other +#but then when they're both in the twilights of their careers they come to find they do in fact relate and like each other'#always interesting to me how their careers are slightly offset but parallel each other super well#but then the theoretical end is seb being accepting of his fate and passing the torch onto fernando so he can do what seb couldnt#but just the: baby at str/minardi youngest wdc -> ferrari failure and watchinf the new generation take over -> sent out to pasture kinda#sorry that is sooooooo depressing how i jjst wrote that LMAO#but again so so so happy that fernando is over here breaking the cycle and plotline by doing the things at Aston that seb was unable to#anf that hes onlt able to do those things because of all thw work seb put in 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺#feeling emotional today over THEM#theres just something to me how simialr they are but how they were forced into conflict#bcs looking at all of these 2009 pics. look at the potential of softness!!!! but they were always doomed to be enemies#anyways#in the au this would be them meeting before they know about the succession drama#theyre just two young royals who are meeting for a bit 🥺🥺🥺#and theyre like ah this guy!! pretty cool!!! and then it all falls apart#vettonso#catie.rambling.txt
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nomaishuttle · 6 months
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i literally have completionist brain but for real life and like. not a fun way for me to play games Definitely not a fun way for me to live irl
#bc in games like. skyrim or what have you i do nottt play them right ik there isnt a right way to play them#but i do every single quest and i pick the options thtall give me the best rewards etc and it just isnt very fun. and rhe point is that its#a role playing game so i should roleplay and if i want to see what happens if i pick the other options i just Make anew save instead of#reloading over and over again. and yet#and its not fun in the sims bc j literally judt force them to max their skills get highest level in their careers complete theiraspirations#and then im just like. ok. and it ends up making my sims games so samey and not fun bc ill Make sims thatr different from eachother but#well. 1. sims 4 sims do not act different from eachother Lmao you Can pick different traits but the most u get is moodlets and maybe 2-5#dialogue options. not that much... vs like skms 3 where each trait could change up a sim a lot#butttt whatever. anyways...#but yeah irl im like Noooo i cant just do this 1 good job bc there are all these other jobs i also need to do i cant pick one major i have#to do all of them i cant Not be able to romance this person !! but real life isnt a video game and that mindset fucking sucks for videogame#anyway... like i like completing a game but i wish i didnt let it ruin games 4 me#bc it rly does i never finish games anymore bc i stress myself out over 100% it...#and i make too many spreadsheets abt them. but i love spreadsheets :[[[[#i should go back to sdv again.. and return to an old save thats another thing#ill obsess iver a game to the point i burn out completely and stop playing and then ill get the urge to play again#but i start a new save and inevitably burn out again and its like ! the devil
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bo0zey · 1 year
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help i have a crush on my manager…….like fr like i think i might actually wanna kiss him possibly even idk ……… idk what to do abt this all ik is i’m going 2 hell😐
#he did 1 on 1s w everyone tryna get to know them n when he asked to speak w me i didn’t know wtf was going on#i thought i was gonna b fired n i was like nooo it’s only my 3rd day on orientation please!!#but then we started chattin in his office n i was nervous n answered stupidly ofc#but he asked what i wanted to do w my career n i told#him i wanted my SANE & TCN certifications n he was like oh i have a tcn book i could#borrow hmm i don’t have it w me but i’ll look for it for u n i was like????#bc if u do the slightest nicest thing for me like SLIGHTLY go out of ur way for me i’ll fall in love#i didn’t think he’d rlly do it but a few shifts later he approached me w the book n was like here u go u can give it back whenever#n i was like hearteyeemoji thank u omg i couldn’t believe he was serious???#he’s so cute i found his notes in the pages n he put his name on the inner cover like a little#DORK#i wonder if he thinks i’m pretty#i think he’s pretty he has dark brown hair n pretty light eyes n usually i don’t like light eyes but idk#his skin is slightly tan n looks soft i wanna touch him#sometimes we catch each other’s gaze n i wonder what he thinks#i notice him look at me when he first appears in the vicinity n i have to force myself not to look at him ugh#i’m literally delusional like ik he doesn’t like me he barely#knows me he’s just polite and a good manager that genuinely wants the unit to succeed#but like idk sometimes i wonder if maybe he at least thinks i’m kinda pretty.??#is it illegal to date ur manager….#.ok idk why i’m even entertaining the thought he’d literally NEVER give me the time of day pmaoooo#ramblings#shut up cianna
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deux-jared · 1 year
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the worst thing capitalism ever did was monetize time. because you can get rich as all fuck. enough to kill the world ten times over. but every second you relax you will still feel the sand grain falling with a resolute beat. there’s barely time to sleep anymore because god forbid you’re not using that time for self improvement. reading a good book ? maybe you should also be working out on a treadmill too. like this movie ? okay yeah but there’s emails to send while you watch. who’s got time to live when there’s an economy to run. and running this economy sure as fuck ain’t living. you go to school and go to work and go shopping and tell yourself that this is life. you can stop on all the scenic roads and take all the pictures but you’ll still have to put in a vacation request to do it. i don’t even want to do it on the company’s dime anymore, regardless of what my boss and i are earning. i want to be fucking free.
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oatbugs · 1 year
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update on gf situation btw . for those who r curious or sent asks etc
#v soon after i asked for advice i talked to her and asked her why she doesnt draw anymore n abt other stuff etc etc#she basically said she doesnt feel at all content rn but she will start again once she feels better . which is so understandable#and im also glad to hear she still does love what she loved etc...just several factors in her life are making her . discontent atm#one of them (i think a big one maybe) is me being gone for like a month . we stayed w each other a lot b4 this#so the wait has been Agonising for both of us and i just didnt realise how much she missed me . which is like . idk . shes so sweet i love#her so much and while im sad my absence is contributing to her current situation im like. woah...there is someone who misses me so much.wow#i also need to like tripple clarify bc my post asking for advice was vague and i feel like it was misinterpreted a lot :#my gf is not confused abt what she wants to do + i am not using romantic relationships as a career progression device + i do in fact have#friends and a life outside academia and am aware that i too could just as easily become disconent w my work#life etc or even lose all my passion for whatever reason + i do not in fact . only love my gf for her art. i love her for everything she is#which includes smn who is very passionate abt art which is why i was concerned etc etc . anyway#we talked abt it and i now understand things more and also will hold her through it until she feels more content again#and then ill keep holding her through everything good and bad for as long as i can :) i love her sosososososo much#and also i miss her so much and if i dont see her soon ill Perish and Die . anyway
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kimtranssexler · 2 years
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“But you’re the one who made him this way” screaming and crying
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cinnabeat · 2 months
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was told by my seminar professor that i could be an art critic and it was like my purpose in life was presented to me
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www-jungwon · 4 months
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no one asked but heres my (definitely unpopular) opinion on the pjo series bc i have many thoughts.
#☆゚elena’s rambles#as in many#starting off#i think i put my expectations up too high for this series im so sry#like the movies were so bad i js went oh pjo show? oh produced actually by rick riordan? oh disney+? best show im ever gonna fcking watch#and then proceded to forget the actors are 14yo children who js started their careers#NO HATE AT ALL#i actually think theyre doing pretty good#but the WRITING#omfg its not giving#like if the actors were rlly experienced i think they couldve worked with the script better but its so unfair to expect that of them#bc the script is not. it#like give my bro aryan some actual lines man#“im gonna pack the best snacks” HUH#he doesnt have a character 😭#like what happened to grover my total sunshine happy satyr loyal friend WHERE IS HE WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH HIM#and theres no percabeth 😭 like the series is trying to move sooo fast but then were 3 episodes in and they JUST stopped hating each other#huhhh like theyre the entire foundation of this series change my mind#im crossing all limbs hoping theyll have chemistry tho bc if not this show is gonna bomb im SO SRY#but the medusa thing did not give. like everything js feels so rushed#so with a mediocre script#plot#and pacing#its all falling to the literal children#and dont get me wrong like#percy is good#theyre all good#but after reading the books consuming sm content of them its hard for them to feel like the characters yk i think thats whats making it#worse for me bc otherwise i would prob js enjoy it wo overthinking#anyway pls dont yell at me its js my opinion ik its gonna be v unpopular based on what im seeing
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bukuoshin · 5 months
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Okay, it's. It's probably safe to say I'm autistic, lol
#rae rants#i took the autism test twice before and. both said 'yeah autism' but i was like. well it's just one test and maybe it's coincidence.#the r one. anyways. yesterday. i found a site that was like a megapost of autism tests and i took... i think 6 tests from established#like. medical journals and psychology sites. and they all were just like 'yeah you have autism' so.#i mean I'm not gonna get a diagnosis but when i was going thru the questions i was like. 'doesn't everyone do that? no one does that!'#when it was decidedly not the case. and then idr how but i got on quora for a related but different topic and got to some#question by someone who is highly suspecting being autistic but didn't understand one of the questions. and before ppl even got to their#explanations (which i always inherently understood) they'd be like 'sorry for the block of text for smth that could use a 2-3 word answer.#that's a symptom of autism.' and when i told my mom abt that she was like. yeah. thats you.#also. i think this is funny. 3/5 of my family has gone 'am i autistic?' and told that to each other.#and we went to watch my brother the other day do a presentation thing for the career he's going into. and we could recognize him (aside from#his unique clothing set-up-- he was rhe only one w a black coat and tan pants) we could identify him cuz he'd be a loner or he'd like.#waddle a little bit while walking. and i know i have a bit of a bob to my step and my mom waddles too (but thats a medical thing).#and after i finished the test i was like. oh yeah isnt 'strange gait' a symptom of autism.#and when i told my mom she was like 'yeah i think we're all autistic. but we're not getting diagnosed bc let's avoid bigotry.' and. yeah.#i mean. obvs its not just cuz i too a handful of online tests. ive been exhibiting symptoms my friend. like ones i should have seen and gone#'well duh' like im selectively mute. always have been. and when i read 'mostly autistic ppl are selectively mute' i was like.#'but im the specialest little exception in the whole wide world :3c'#as well as other related shit. ya know.#knowing my history tho i haven't been officially diagnosed with anything but it's all in my notes. like my medical chart.#so with my weird good-bad luck I could straight up be like 'i have exhibited signs of autism since early childhood' and they'd write#that word for word in my chart. which avoids the oppression of a diagnosis but also doesn't help me much besides that ya know?#if we're mutuals you might have seen me be like 'do i have autism? no i don't have autism but this post is so relatable.'#whilst exhibiting symptoms.#... is 'exhibiting symptoms' offensive to say? it's one of those phrases I've been stuck on lately cuz it's real short hand for#'i recognize this bc i am familiar with it due to my experiences with mental health' but idk if it's taken that way :\
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Night
#meows#h. today was a bit stressful#my grandparents have finally decided they cant host holidays anymore bc theyre too old (now if only theyd use that mindset#for when my uncle asks them to babysit ie raise his kids)#but that means it gets put on us SO we had both sets of grandparents and my moms sister her daughter (my cousin)#and said cousin's bf. and like hes nice from what i see but i do NOT do well w new people especially those making immediate convo#and im sure i look like a jerk bc i had trouble making eye contact but it had nothing to do w him i just could not#plus it got reaaally awkward bc iiiim starting to think the grandparents dont like each other??#cant fully blame them my moms mom can be a bit much and my f*thers dad just says some random shit and i never know#what hes trying to get out. example being the night before we went over like we always do on xmas eve#and he questioned why i didnt go into art for a career like do animation and then said ''well i figured that they#[some confusing thing about math and lines and equations to idk animate ig???]#hes also super cheap whereas my gma is not at all#and a bunch of other stuff point is i sat at ''the kids table'' bc i figured there were just enough seats for my aunt and her husband#who decided to show (only to spew conservative bullshit outta nowhere) my mom and both sets of grandparents#but then my moms parents sit with me and my cousin and her bf??? like uhh. then my f*thers dad tried to make an escape#but his car was blocked in by the others lmaoo#and in her usual fashion my moms mom stayed A WHILE and so we had people over for nearly 4 hours which is well past my time#and during her extended stay i went to get a sip from my drink only to find it gone and i had a semi...??? idk what to call it#shutdown maybe? idk by that point i was DONE masking i wanted them OUT i wanted to pass out in the dark in my BED#idk this christmas has seemed overly stressful for no good reason#also ig my moms trying to hint for me to cook bc she got my fucking like 3 cookbooks (tho one of which was more sentimental#bc it was her writing down recipes for food she makes that i like like cereal cookies and meatballs)#(hers is onion soup mix w rice and ground beef rolled together into a ball w tomato sauce on it. usually served w mashed potatoes)#and then a ton of sleep shirts bc she misunderstood me. im not low on them even tho i got rid of a few old old ones#i just dont always bring enough here. but she takes some small thing and runs w it so no surprise there ig lmao#lil sad there was only a couple of things on my list i got and the rest was stuff she decided i needed (and didnt really#but ig its the thought that counts...? however much thought you wanna count it as ig lol)
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Spencer Reid x Read fic. Reid and Reader are friends, like best friends. Reader is always offering Reid donuts and listening to his fun facts and info dumps. It's one of those, they both like each other, but also are convinced the other doesn't like them.
Spencer is taking care of a slightly drunk reader whose grandmother called and asked why they're not engaged when they're younger sibling is married and expecting a child. At some point Spencer makes his ever classic comment about how it's safer to kiss and drunk reader, before being able to think, kisses Spencer. I hope that made sense.
OOPS I DID EXACTLY THAT
Safer to Kiss (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader
Word Count: 2899
Warnings: Mentions of food, drinking alcohol, mild cursing, outdated expectations of women, and lots of pining
A/N: Hi I wrote this in 2 hours and was extremely entertained, please enjoy and if you send me a fic request I'll probably do it bc this is my hyperfixation hobby right now and very much keeping the demons at bay xD @bxm-1012 thank you for dropping by my inbox! I am VERY tempted to make a part 2 of this, I hope you enjoy! c:
-----
The whole expiration date thing that women faced was, in your humble opinion, complete and utter bullshit. Here you were, slowly approaching thirty (definitely still told people you were twenty-five, when, in fact, you were actually twenty-eight), and the biological clock was ticking. No, you didn’t want kids. Not right now, anyway. Not when you were only two years into your career as a profiler for the FBI’s prestigious Behavioral Analysis Unit. Not when you still had tons of things to check off your bucket list - go to Europe, visit an independent bookstore in every state, pilot a helicopter. 
And you didn’t buy into that whole ‘once a woman hits thirty, her stock plummets’ crap. Not usually, anyway. 
But Nan’s phone calls always left you questioning your existence. 
Back home in Ohio, your little sister, Kendra, had just announced her pregnancy. Three years younger than you (ironically, the age you told everyone you were), and married to a power plant manager, Kendra was living the dream of a woman from the 1950s. You tried your best not to look down on it, to wish for more for her - but Kendra was happy. She’d always wanted to be a mother, and you couldn’t imagine anyone better suited for the role. There was nothing wrong with wanting to be a wife and a mother, to devoting one’s life to it. You reminded yourself of that every time you spoke to Kendra. You especially reminded yourself of it every time you spoke to Nan. 
That sympathetic tone your grandmother used when she said, “Oh, Button, you’ll find someone eventually, and you’ll be just as happy as Kenny” was like nails on a chalkboard. You resisted the urge to gag into your speakerphone and simultaneously rip your grandmother a new one. You wanted so badly to explain to her that you were perfectly fulfilled with your life. 
You helped lock up bad guys on a weekly basis, you wanted to remind Nan. Your brain was one of few that had been chosen for a task force that caught criminals based on their behavior. It was amazing, working for the BAU, bouncing ideas off of your colleagues, finding a family within this small group of people that spent more than forty hours a week together. 
Nan didn’t see it that way. She wanted you to be just like Kendra. She wanted you to have that white picket fence in the suburbs, with a broad-shouldered husband and two little tykes running at your feet. Domestic bliss just wasn’t in the cards for you, you’d decided. And that was okay.
You were still reeling from your conversation with Nan the night before when you walked in to work on Monday morning. It was Derek who caught the raging RBF first. “Woah, pretty girl. Pump. Your. Brakes.” He said, halting you just as you entered the BAU’s bullpen, holding a hand up to stop you. 
“Good morning to you, too, Derek,” You flashed him a phony grin, and he rolled his eyes. 
“And you’re grumpy this morning… why, exactly?” Derek asked, turning to walk beside you, essentially escorting you to your desk. 
“Because I’m allowed to be?” You proffered, shrugging your shoulders, not really wanting to talk about it with him. You loved Derek - hell, you loved all your coworkers - but he was not the person you wanted to go to with these thoughts. You didn’t really want to talk to anyone about it, actually. You just wanted to ride the cranky train until it came to a complete stop. 
Emily was returning from the kitchenette with a fresh mug of coffee and decided that the conversation concerned her as well. “What’s going on?” she asked. 
“Y/L/N’s wearing her cranky pants this morning,” Derek filled her in. 
“Oh, those so don’t match your blouse, Y/N,” Emily teased, winking at you with a smirk before looking at Derek. “Cut her some slack. No one likes Mondays.” Derek held up his palms defensively. “Alright, alright. Forgive me for being a concerned citizen.” 
“It’s appreciated,” You told Derek genuinely before setting your bag down at your desk. “But unnecessary.” 
It wasn’t until later in the morning, around ten, that anyone bothered you about your obvious bad mood again. This time it was Spencer, the one person you couldn’t possibly be annoyed with. He rolled on his desk chair around the partition that separated your workspaces, holding his hand out expectantly, like he usually did this time of day. 
Without speaking, you opened the bottom drawer of your desk and pulled out the white bag of mini powdered donuts that you always kept in stock. They were your guilty pleasure snack, and one of the first things you and Spencer bonded over when you started at the BAU two years ago. That, and the fact that you were the closest agents in age, was how you got along so well so quickly. Over several cases, varying in degrees of intensity, you and Spencer became really great friends. Best friends, actually. 
There wasn’t anyone else in your life that you trusted more than Spencer Reid. 
You opened the bag of powdered donuts and shook one haphazardly into Spencer’s palm, then grabbed one for yourself. Silently, you cheers-ed your donuts together, and ate them simultaneously, making weird-but-comfortable eye contact as you did. 
“Derek says you’re in a bad mood today,” Spencer pointed out with a teasing smirk on his face. A smirk, and white sugar blanketing his upper lip.
“Derek’s full of shit,” you grinned after swallowing your snack, the smile on your face totally facetious. “I’m extremely happy.” 
“I can tell,” Spencer snickered as you set the powdered donuts back in your snack drawer, closing it with a clank. You watched as he brought both of his legs up into his desk chair, crossing them like a kindergartner. 
The action made your stomach flutter. You’d felt strongly about Spencer for a really long time, probably a year and half, if you had to try and pinpoint it. But there was no use in going down that road with him. For one thing, he was your best friend, and you didn’t want to risk flushing the best relationship in your life down the toilet. For another thing, you knew it was one hundred percent impossible that he could feel the same way. 
“What’d you do this weekend?” Spencer asked, and you could tell by the question that he was trying to discover the source of your poor attitude. 
“Stayed home, caught up on chores,” You said, crossing your knees and leaning back in your seat, your expression telling him that you knew exactly what he was doing. As much fun as playing mind games with Spencer was, you decided to throw him a bone. “Spoke to my grandmother on the phone last night.” 
Spencer nodded understandingly. “Say no more,” he said with a chuckle. “She gave you the whole ‘when are you going to get married’ spiel again?” 
You nodded. “Unfortunately. I usually don’t let it bother me, but for some reason it’s just, like, lurking in the back of my mind today.” You shrugged your shoulders and exhaled through your nose. “What about you?” You asked. 
“What about me?” Spencer arched a brow, and you rolled your eyes playfully. 
“What’d you do this weekend?” 
“Oh,” Spencer began, pursing his lips for a moment, like he was hesitant to tell you. “I actually went on a date.” 
Your stomach flipped. “Oh yeah?” You choked out, forcing a smile. “Who with?” 
“That girl, Lisa, from the coffee shop, the one you told me wouldn’t stop ‘ogling my boy band hair’,” Spencer held up air quotes when he repeated your words from memory.
You recalled the cute barista from the coffee shop just down the highway from Quantico, a popular morning stop for agents on their way to work. You tried to stop the jealousy from turning your blood into fire. “How was it?” You asked, trying to resist the urge to sit on the edge of your seat, trying not to hang on his every word. 
Spencer shrugged his shoulders. “It was okay. She was very nice, but there just wasn’t…” he trailed off, gesticulating as the words failed to come to that supercomputer brain of his. 
“It was like a donut without powdered sugar on it?” You suggested with a small chuckle.
“Yeah,” Spencer agreed, nodding, meeting your eyes and smiling, mildly amused. “Exactly.” 
Spencer went back to his desk a few minutes later, and the rest of the day went on. It was quiet, especially for a day at the BAU. There were, weirdly enough, no open cases right now, so you spent the day catching up on paperwork, which there was always plenty of. 
You caught the elevator about ten minutes after five with Spencer in tow, and you held the door open for him. It was just the two of you as you made the descent from the sixth floor, and Spencer leaned against the back wall. “Plans tonight?” He asked. 
“Not really, no,” You said, shaking your head. “Why, you want to do something?” You asked. 
Spencer nodded. “There’s this landscape and nature photography exhibit at one of the galleries downtown,” he said. “Might be fun. There’s this artist, Milton Harvell, who takes photos of renowned locations around the world but zooms in on an obscure detail and gives the framed photograph to the person who correctly guesses the location.” 
You smiled slowly at that. You loved it when Spencer went off on one of his tangents. You found it completely adorable. “It’s actually quite fascinating,” Spencer went on, an amused tone lining his voice, making it sound lighter. “Kind of like a Where’s Waldo, but in reverse. There was this one photograph he took of the Louvre in Paris, but he zoomed in really tightly on a young boy enjoying an ice cream cone. He even went so far as to edit the photograph to make it look like it was a different time of day. The four thousand and eighth person to view the photograph was the person who guessed the correct location.” Spencer’s head bobbed and he was smiling like an idiot. 
God, you were down bad. 
“Was the four thousand and eighth person… you?” You asked, narrowing your eyes at him scrupulously and allowing a teasing grin to cross your face. 
“The photo’s hanging in my living room,” he confirmed. 
You laughed softly. “Will there be alcohol at this function?” You asked him, and he nodded. 
That was all you needed to hear. 
— — —
You and Spencer went straight to the art gallery from work, sharing a cab rather than bothering with your cars. You immediately bought a glass of red wine, and began to follow him around the gallery. You weren’t an art aficionado, not by any means, but you enjoyed looking at beautiful things, and you especially enjoyed spending time with Spencer that wasn’t hunched over a dead body or trying to map out a killer’s comfort zone. It was a rare occurrence, so you tried to soak it all up as much as possible. 
Plus, your Nan’s words were still lingering in the back of your head. It’ll happen for you someday, Button. Men just don’t find you strong, career types attractive. Maybe you should soften up your look a little. 
You downed your first glass of wine within ten minutes, and caught one of the catering staff passing out champagne almost instantaneously after. The champagne fizzled down your throat as you strolled with Spencer through the art gallery, listening intently as he went on about each piece, rattling off whatever contextual knowledge he had. But you were a little bit biased; you could listen to him list different types of soil and find it interesting. 
After the glass of champagne came another glass of champagne, and by the time you made it to the main exhibit Spencer wanted to see, your cheeks were flushed. It wasn’t that you couldn’t hold your alcohol; rather, it just made you a little bit silly. Your inhibitions were lowered, just like it would affect anyone. But with your arm looped through Spencer’s and your Nan’s nagging message still in the back of your mind, you were perhaps a little more loose than usual. 
As Spencer examined the exhibit, you tapped your foot, unable to keep still, and scanned the open space. Your eyes landed on another patron of the gallery, a conventionally handsome man about your age, and you found yourself unlooping your arm from Spencer’s, subconsciously not wanting to appear taken. 
“Are you gonna go talk to that guy?” Spencer asked, and you snapped your eyes back to his. “Because you can, if you want to. Don’t let me stop you.” 
It was almost like he was daring you to. Spencer’s jaw seemed tense as you examined his expression, the way his gorgeous brown eyes darted from the man and back to you. “You don’t mind?” You asked, arching a brow, almost like a challenge.
Spencer shook his head, his lips pursed. “Not at all. I’ll wait here for you?” 
You nodded, and turned towards the man. There wasn’t any harm in getting a guy’s number, right? Your feelings for Spencer were a lost cause, anyway. Plus, as Nan liked to point out, you weren’t getting any younger. 
The man’s eyes locked on yours and he seemed to understand that you were about to speak with him. He met you halfway, and you shook his hand. “Malcolm Greene,” he introduced himself, and you spouted off your own name in return. “You’re not here with that guy?” He asked, jerking his chin over to Spencer. Your eyes followed Malcolm’s, and you saw Spencer with his body turned towards the photography exhibit, but his head turned to the side, as if he were keeping an eye on you with his peripheral vision. 
“Yeah, I am,” you said, and Malcolm’s head inclined to the side. “I am. I’m here with that guy,” you panicked, suddenly realizing in that moment that you weren’t interested in speaking with Malcolm. No, you had absolutely no interest in spending your time with any other man but Spencer Reid. “I just, uh…” Your cheeks flushed, and you stifled an awkward laugh, anxiously trying to come up with some excuse. “I came over here to tell you that your shoe was united.” 
Your eyes followed Malcolm’s down to his shoes, which were loafers. Laceless loafers. Malcolm’s mouth opened as if to point this out to you, but you managed to stammer words out first. “Ok, well, have a great night, goodbye!” You turned on your heel and marched back over to Spencer, your cheeks red as you reached out for his arm. 
Spencer furrowed his brows down at you as your arm gripped his. “I need another glass of wine,” you confessed. 
Twenty minutes later, after two more glasses of wine and a very watchful eye out for Malcolm, you and Spencer left the art gallery. You were awfully giggly on the cab ride back to your place, cracking puns and humming along to the radio intermittently. Spencer seemed to be amused, but more so concerned with getting you home in one piece. 
As he walked you up the stairs to the door of your apartment building, he was teasing you about your conversation with Malcolm, which you still hadn’t told him completely about. “I still can’t believe you didn’t get his number. You were talking with him for exactly two minutes and twelve seconds. What, in that short of an amount of time, could have turned you off to him so quickly?” He pondered aloud, a playfully mocking tone lining his voice. 
“Listen, I shook his hand! I had my fun!” You exclaimed, bursting into laughter as you leaned against the handrail of the stairs that led up to the door. “Good, clean fun!” 
“You know, the number of pathogens that are passed during a handshake is staggering. It’s actually safer to kiss someone,” Spencer rattled off, and your eyes snapped to meet his. 
You don’t know what took you over. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the way the street lamps reflected in the irises of his eyes, or how you stood just a few inches away from him. Maybe it was his stupid tweed blazer, how he looked like a tenured art history professor despite barely being thirty years old. Maybe it was the way he smelled like pine and printer ink, a combination you wouldn’t have ever thought was attractive. 
But when Spencer said that, you stood up on your toes and kissed him. It was slow and innocent at first, until it passed the border into lingering, and Spencer’s hands found your hips, pulling your body closer to his. There was a cool night breeze that filtered through the space between your bodies, and by the time you pulled your lips away from Spencer’s, and slowly opened your eyes, you were completely red in the face and breathless. 
No, that certainly wasn’t the safest choice you could have made.
——
read part 2 here
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zegrasdrysdale · 2 months
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[ sober thoughts ] n. hischier
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paring: Nico Hischier x fem!reader
summary : Nico appears on his best friend’s doorstep after the Stadium Series win and confessions are made
warning(s) : slightly drunk nico, mentions of alcohol (but no actual alcohol consumption involved)
author’s note : pls ignore any typos bc i thought of this while drunk and wrote it while tipsy so i will go back and edit when i am 100% sober. it’s a v short and cute thing that i wanted to write (even tho i am working on like 7 different requests rn)
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The moment ‘nico 🏒🤍’ appears on her phone screen, she thinks something is wrong. She’s especially worried because it’s nearly two in the morning. Something could be seriously wrong.
The last time they talked, Nico was getting in an Uber to go to the bar after they won the Stadium Series game against the Flyers. That was a half hour after the end of the game and nearly three hours ago at this point.
A very exhausted and confused (Y/N) quickly answers the phone as soon as she processes what’s going on.
“Are you okay?” she asks, voice slurred with sleep. “Do I need to come get you from the bar?”
“I’m outside your apartment building,” he tells her. “Can I please come inside? It’s so cold outside and I just played a game in this weather. Please let me in.”
She rolls over and turns on her bedside lamp before she walks to the window. Outside on the sidewalk stands her best friend and captain of the New Jersey Devils. He smiles up at her and waves. “Oh my God,” she gasps as she puts on a pair of slippers. “Why are you just standing outside my building like that?”
“Because I missed you and wanted to see you,” he tells her as she grabs her keys and leaves her apartment. “It felt very wrong that I wasn’t celebrating with my best friend after one of the most amazing games and one of the most beautiful moments of my career. If I woke you up, I’m sorry.”
Without tripping down any stairs, she says, “It’s okay. I was just worried you were passed out on the side of the road in East Rutherford.” She pushes the main entrance door open. “Yet here you are on my doorstep.”
Nico smiles and stumbles up the steps after he hangs up the phone when he sees her. He trips on the last step. She catches him and he catches himself on the doorway. She can smell the alcohol on his breath because of how close they are to each other, yet her heart races in her chest since they’re so close to each other.
“Are you drunk?” she asks as she backs away from him with a look on her face. “How did you get here? Don’t tell me you drove because I might kill you and your team is going to be left without a captain.”
“I’ve had a few drinks,” he admits to her. “I took an Uber because I did have a few drinks. I didn’t drive here. Don’t worry. I still have brain cells.”
Nico walks into the building in a hoodie and jeans instead of the tracksuit he showed up to MetLife in. She’s happy he is in actual clothes because if he showed up in that tracksuit, she might lose it.
“Why did you come here instead of going home?” she questions as they make their way up to her apartment. “I thought that maybe after the game you’d celebrate with your teammates then go home to sleep.”
They walk into the apartment as soon as she unlocks the door. “I told you that I wanted to come celebrate with my best friend,” he replies. She closes the door behind her. “Especially since I couldn’t get you into the stadium to watch the game. I wanted you to be a part of this day.”
She pouts and sits on the couch as Nico turns on one of the lamps. “Your family flew in for the game,” she says to him. “I shouldn’t take priority over them. I get to see you play all the time. They don’t.”
He sits next to her. Not too close but close enough where she can feel the heat coming off his body. If he were to move his knee, it would bump into hers.
“You’re my family too,” Nico softly says. “I wanted you to be there.”
“I’m your friend, Nico,” she sighs. “I’m not your girlfriend or your wife. I didn’t need to be there.”
It feels like she is trying to convince herself too because sometimes the line blurs. Sometimes she doesn’t know what she is to him. She has to remind herself that they aren’t together, and probably will never be together.
A moment of silence falls over them. She looks at her hands on her lap while she plays with her thumbs. Nico’s big brown eyes never leave her while she avoids looking at him.
Nico sighs and practically whispers, “I wished you were there as my girlfriend.”
Her head snaps up and she blinks at him. “You what?”
“I wished you were at the game as my girlfriend,” Nico repeats. “The entire time I wished that you were at the family skate and sitting in the suite with everyone else’s families. I wished you had one of those cute jackets that the wives and girlfriends had with my number on it.”
She stares at him until he’s done talking. Then she starts to shake her head. “You’re just saying that because you have been drinking,” she replies. “You don’t actually mean that.”
Never once has Nico shown that he wanted to be in any kind of romantic relationship with her. He’s never given her any kind of hint or sign that he wanted to be more than just friends with her.
They’ve known each other since Nico moved to the US in 2017 to play in the NHL and never once did it seem like he wanted something more.
There is no way he means that.
“Drunk words are sober thoughts,” he says.
“Then tell me when you’re sober,” she retorts. “Tell me in the morning if you actually mean it.”
Nico frowns and brushes a loose piece of hair behind her ear. “Schätzli, you have no idea how long I have wanted to tell you that,” he tells her. “I guess I’ll just have to wait until I wake up before I tell you again.”
Almost as if on cue, he yawns. “Go to sleep, Nico,” she says to him. “Tell me whatever you want in the morning. You know where the guest room is but do you need my help in getting there?”
He shakes his head and sinks down against the back of the couch. “I’ll get there eventually,” he replies. “You can go back to sleep.”
With a nod, she stands up. Nico’s eyes are half open so she takes off his shoes and pulls his legs up onto the cushions. She grabs a blanket to throw over him as he lets out soft snores. The alcohol has finally caught up to him and knocked him out.
“You have no idea how long I have wanted to hear you say that you wanted me to be your girlfriend,” she whispers to a sleeping Nico. “All it took you was having a few drinks and winning a big game before you told me how you felt.”
She presses a soft kiss to his temple before she retreats down the hallway to her bedroom just in case he wasn’t actually asleep.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
The smell of coffee is the thing that wakes her up in the morning. Not the sunlight or an alarm. Coffee. It takes a second before she remembers that Nico stayed over.
She remembers Nico telling her that he wishes she was at the Stadium Series game as his girlfriend. She has no idea if he remembers that he said that to her.
It’s time to find out.
Slowly, she makes her way out to the kitchen. She finds Nico standing at the coffee machine with his back to the hallway. She yawns and walks into the kitchen area.
“Morning,” she softly says so she doesn’t scare him. He turns his head and looks at her. “You making coffee?”
Nico nods and pours them both a cup. He puts cream in her cup and hands it to her. “I figured we could both use a cup,” he tells her. “Me to get rid of this hangover and you because I woke you up at two in the morning.”
She blows on her coffee before taking a sip. “How much of last night do you remember?” she curiously asks as she leans against the counter beside him.
The moment of silence that follows worries her. He probably doesn’t remember what he said, and she isnt going to remind him if he doesn’t remember.
He takes a sip of his own coffee before he asks, “Are you asking me if I remember telling you that I wish you were my girlfriend? Yes, if that’s the case. I told you that I meant it.”
“And you’re sober?”
“Very,” Nico replies. “And very hungover.”
It surprises her to the point where she almost drops her cup of coffee. Her eyes widen and Nico smiles. “Nico, I could kill you and kiss you at the same time because why did it take you playing in one of the biggest games in your career before you-”
Nico takes the cup of coffee out of her hand while she’s talking then cuts her off by bringing his lips to hers. She gasps in surprise then melts against him as he presses her against the counter. She wraps her arms around his neck and puts her fingers in his hair so he can’t break the kiss.
Never in her life did she think that she would be in her kitchen kissing her best friend of nearly seven years. The thought only occurred in dreams and occasionally during games when she found him attractive, which is really all the time.
This is something she has wanted for two years. Since the moment she realized that she was in love with Nico.
He lifts her up and sits her down on the counter. He stands between her knees and rests his hands on her thighs.
It becomes too much for her and she has to pull back for a second to breathe. Her eyes meet his and finds worry in them. “I just- I don’t think you understand how long I have waited for this,” she breathes out. “Wanted this. Wanted you. I just need a second.”
Nico smiles and pushes her hair behind her ears before he cups her jaw. “I’m such an idiot for waiting so long before I told you,” he replies. “I think I’ve loved you since the moment I met you, Schätzli.” His voice drops to nearly a whisper and his thumbs brush her cheekbones.
“We’re both idiots,” she tells him. “I’m glad you meant it though. I thought you were going to get my hopes up.”
He shakes his head and kisses her nose. “I would never lie to you about loving you.”
“Well I love you too,” she says. “Just so you know.”
Nico laughs and envelopes her in a hug. She smiles and happily accepts the hug.
“I told you that drunk words are sober thoughts.”
“I believe you now.”
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lxclerc · 9 months
Text
𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 | 𝐝𝐫𝟑
summary... it’s never the right time for  you and daniel, always something pulling the two of you away from each other. requested... yes by literally everyone. yall were coming at me with pitch forks for this warning... age gap (7 years), emotional cheating, physical cheating, angst, angst, angst, light smut (more on fade to black) pairing... daniel ricciardo x horner! reader
note... i am tagging each and everyone of you who asked for a part 2 bc this fic has quite literally loomed over my head ever since i posted it a year ago. literally everytime i open this godforsaken app, someone is offering me their first born for the part 2 so yall better give me all the notes!!!
𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩
← prev part
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high tide came and brought you in
“if you could go anywhere in the world right now, where would you go?”
the question caught you off guard as your friend drunkenly pondered over it out loud. where would you go? you were sober enough to say home, the most acceptable answer that would not invite any other follow up questions. it’s simple and doesn't need a discussion. the reason it caught you off guard wasn’t just that though but because your answer was instantaneous in your head. your answer isn’t a where but rather a who, came your bitter realization. 
and you knew that if you could go anywhere in the world right now, it’d be him you’d go to. he always lingers in the back of your mind, everything that reminded him of you tends to bring a certain kind of aching and longing you’ve grown to resent over the months and years spent without him. 
daniel sent you away and deep in you, you know he meant good. he’d done a selfless thing, loving you and setting you free. but missing him was unbearable, loving him all consuming and you resent him for doing this to you. you resent the world for making you fall for a man without letting you have him. 
still, you did as he told you. you went back to school, pursuing a career in a field you knew he’d be proud of, achieving your dreams and living your life as though a part of you hadn’t been left with him. 
your friends carry on with the party. half of university was partying which is a scene familiar to you. this time, it’s on the beach, the salty air and sound of crashing waves echoing with the sound of the music and chatter. still though, you can’t help but scan the place as though looking for him among the crowd of people the same way you always would. you miss the way you’d find his eyes already on you, pools of brown dripping like honey on your skin. 
but he’s never there and you feel dirty whenever another man looks at you, their gazes too eager as they look at you as though you’re a piece of meat, never gentle like his as though you’re aphrodite herself walking among mere mortals. 
you miss him is the ugly truth. you miss him so fucking terribly it makes you angry. you don’t want to miss him. you no longer want to love him. loving him hurts, as though he’s clawing at your chest and squeezing your heart together in a sick sort of torture. 
but even before he touched you, you were his. all he had to do was look at you. you exist in two places – here and wherever he is. 
eventually as the night progresses on, you move away from the party. you’re in some fancy country club and the tile is expensive on your feet as you step out of your heels and walked towards the beach, feeling the cool sand against your skin. 
in hindsight, you really shouldn’t have been surprised to find him in a place like this but despite looking for him wherever you go, you’d never expect to find him. searching for him has become a comfort the same way longing for him has – in a sick, twisted and painful way. 
but he’s here now and in the one time you hadn’t searched for him, he found you. the moment you’d spotted his figure looking out at sea, he turned to you as though a gravitational pull connected you to him. 
one year, three months and fourteen days. that was the last time you saw him but he looked no different from the man who’d brought you back to your hotel room only to say goodbye. 
and then he smiled and it was as though the sun shone on you again. 
“honey,” he says and your heart trembles. 
daniel.
it was too early. and you’re drunk and you aren’t entirely sure if you were dreaming or not. 
but he stands before you, eyes of brown looking as though you’re aphrodite herself and he can’t quite believe he gets to stand before you. eyes of brown that seem to be sobbing without tears. daniel. 
you’re still not talking and he’s letting you, watching you so intently as though he’s memorizing your face. he looked the exact same but you know what he must be seeing. you look nothing like the woman he left behind. you’d cut your hair short and dyed it. long gone were your summer dress, replaced by tight fitting ones that showed off your body. you feel different and you tried so hard to make sure you wouldn’t recognize yourself in the mirror. you hated seeing the woman who couldn’t make him stay. 
but in his eyes, you see your reflection and you recognize her well. 
“daniel,” you muttered as the crashing waves touched your feet. would you love me now? you wanted to ask. 
he smiled again. “you look beautiful as you always are.”
please touch me, you wanted to beg. soft eyes and soft soft hands. you’re lonely without him. 
you manage a grin. “sure, old man.”
the laugh that he let out echoed against your soul. “i’m being honest.”
you missed him. god, you missed him so fucking much. 
but daniel still would not let himself love you. not yet, not now that you’re finally building something for yourself. you have friends and have set goals. not yet. 
“y/n!” someone calls from behind you but you’re hesitant to take your eyes off of daniel, terrified he’d become a figment of your imagination the moment you do. but your friend's familiar calls force you to. “come on, we have to go.”
you ignore her, turning back to daniel and he smiles at you, offering his hand for you to shake. this is the best he can offer for now. “i’ll see you around, kid.” 
you wanted to cry, wanted to scream that it’s so unfair, but you smile sadly as he shook his hand, his calloused fingers so familiar against yours. 
“in a few years,” you say. 
and as the ocean brought him back to you, the waves must return to the sea. 
but you were still gone and gone, gone and gone
the next time you see daniel again, you were twenty four. you’re in your last year of university, applying for your doctorate. you loved academia, you loved your two cats and your little apartment downtown, you loved science and the galaxy it holds and you eventually realized that this is why he let you go. he wanted you to have this — be more than someone who just follows a man around country after country. 
he wanted you to grow, wanted you to find the things you really loved without influence from him. he wanted you to find your independence and learn to stand on your own two feet. 
max brought you here. it’s his first world champion and as his self proclaimed best friend, he refused to allow you to skip this one and so you pulled up your big girl pants and got on with it, arriving in abu dhabi on friday.
by some cruel twist of fate, he’s the first person you find the moment you enter the paddock. it would have been rude to ignore him and so you smile even though you can clearly see the woman next to him and the way she stands close. 
goddamn it. 
it hurt. it hurt seeing her there. it hurt seeing her cluelessly smile at you. the way he looks at you now, eyes of brown full of silent apologies, looking as though he wanted to reach over and touch you, to comfort you. 
you release a shaky breathe, raising your hand in an pathetic attempt of a wave before you walk past him. you aren’t the same young kid like before. now, you have enough self reservation to not actively put yourself in a situation that would only hurt you. you don’t need to play besties with daniel’s new girlfriend. 
the moment you enter the red bull motorhome, you hit max at the back of his head.
“what?” he exclaimed as you glared at him. 
“you’re an idiot,” was all you said before moving towards your father. you’d ignore daniel and his girlfriend. you’re here to support max – even if he is a stupid idiot – and there’s no need for you to obsess over daniel. 
but of course, you still do anyway. even as you watch the race, you’re watching him. he looks good, amazing, fucking edible. he looks like he stepped right out of your dirtiest dreams, all thick neck and stable arms. he looks beautiful, absolutely gorgeous and breathtaking and you selfishly want him just for you. but you’ve always wanted that and you’ve never been allowed to have him.
and then you’re watching her. she’s grace herself, really. she’s exactly the kind of woman he needed and you wonder if she knows about you and then you wonder what it is about her. what is it about her that made it so that daniel thought she’s good enough for him to love when he never could you?
“mate, it’s getting creepy,” max said as he took the seat before you. he looks tired but he looks determined and the way the hair falls over his face makes you smile. max is a very special person to you and you know that he always will. you hold him close to your heart and you know you’d move the earth for him. 
you reach over, fixing the collar of his red bull shirt. “shut up.”
“her name’s caroline,” max says. “if you want to get to know her then just approach her.”
you glared at him. you don’t want to know her name. you don’t want to know what her laugh sounds like or the color of her eyes. you don’t want to know what made daniel fall in love with her. you don’t want to know her. 
“shut up,” you say again. “i’m still blaming you.”
max laughed and you think him annoying you might just be his way of distracting himself from the race so you let him. you let him talk on and on and on the entire time till he’s needed back in the motorhome. you let him steal yur ice cream and tap your nose. 
but when you turned back to her, caroline, you find him staring right back at you, anger and jealousy in those brown eyes you missed so much.
and it was like you’re twenty again, petty and young as you glared right back at him. he had no reason to be jealous when he has her beside him. he has no right to be jealous when he’s the one who’s never allowed the two of you to be more. 
these hands had to let it go free
that night, he called you for the first time in three years. his name lit up your phone and your hand shook as you picked it up. his picture, smiling up at you taken at your twentieth birthday stares right back at you. 
“daniel,” you breathe out as you press the phone against your ear. you’d arrived back in your hotel room two hours ago smelling of champagne and victory. max’s world championship trophy is laying next to you after being forgotten because your best friend was far too drunk to grab it before his girlfriend dragged him out. throughout the party, you avoided daniel like the plague, keeping to your side of the room and never straying towards him. 
“i missed you,” he says from the other end, voice cracking and slurring. he’s drunk and you push back the blanket as you enter the bathroom, hand gripping your phone. “but fuck it, i don’t miss this.”
“what are you saying?” 
“he’s my best mate, y/n.” there goes your name. not sweetheart or honey. he says your name like it’s sacred, something he’s only ever allowed to say when he’s at his most vulnerable, completely raw and baring his soul to you. “and i wanted to fucking punch his face the entire night.”
you close your eyes. this is familiar to you. daniel and his raw honesty when he’s drunk. daniel and his jealousy of max. this is all so familiar to you that you feel twenty again. you feel young and out of control and so drunk in love with a man you can’t have that it physically hurts. he’s ripped you off the past few years where you’ve grown into yourself. you’re twenty again and so tragically in love. 
“i wanted to punch his fucking face because his touching you, because i’m not allowed to touch you,” he continues as you sink to the floor. 
“you’re the only one who’s never let yourself touch me, daniel,” you whispered on the phone, broken down from one phone call.
he laughs bitterly and you might as well not have said anything. “and here i am, can’t even sleep next to my damn girlfriend because i keep thinking of you. it’s so unfair.”
you wanted to laugh too. unfair? how does he get to talk about unfair when he’d been the one to create this mess for the two of you? how dare he talk about being unfair when he’s the one who’s with another girl? this is unfair. it’s unfair to you. he doesn’t deserve to talk about it being unfair. 
the night he left you in your hotel room on your twenty first birthday, you’d called his name again and again like a child. you hoped by some magical thing that he’ll appear. you were desperate. 
“you shouldn’t have come back,” he says. “not yet. we both weren’t ready.” 
you wipe the tears falling to your cheeks. “and when will that happen? when will we be ready? maybe it’s time to accept that it isn’t us.” 
you heard him let out a shaky breath. “don’t say that. don’t say it.”
“i’m so tired of waiting. if it wasn’t us then and it isn’t us now, why do we still believe that it’s us someday?” 
“ask me to stay,” he whispers. “ask me to stay and i will. ask me to drop her and i will. i will drop everything if you ask me to.”
you cry, pulling your knees against your chest. “goodbye, dan.”
struggled through the night with someone new
the next time you see daniel again, you invited him.  you’re twenty five, it’s two thousand and twenty two, you’re engaged and you’d gotten arrogant. 
you met your fiance, james, in university. you’re in the same program and the same friend group though you never paid much attention to him. for the most part, you never really paid much attention to anyone. six months later and he asked you on a date, one you’d declined without a second thought. it didn’t matter how many guys asked you out, you always declined, daniel in the back of your mind always reminding you of what you’re truly waiting for. 
but james never treated you any differently. he never made it awkward and never put you on the spot. for the most part, you both acted like it never happened. but you applied to the same doctorate program and coincidentally  ended up in apartments right next to each other. he was a comfort, a friend you already knew that you could rely on. he never made anymore advances towards you but it was inevitable to grow closer. 
he’s stability and curiosity. he never once pulled back whenever you touched him or apologized for liking you. it was a breath of fresh air – to be admired so freely. you did your thesis together, hands tightly clamped together as you defended it. 
you were the one to ask james out on a date, knowing he wouldn’t again in fear of making you uncomfortable. and after leaning on each other as friends for so long, transitioning to become lovers was so easy, you didn’t have to worry what anyone would say or think of you. you didn’t have to worry what your family would think. everything was easy with him. 
james was so different from the type of love you were used to. you could love him without guilt, without pain and longing. you could love him simply, easily. you didn’t need to ask him to love you back, didn’t need to wonder if he’d still love you tomorrow. it was so easy being with him and you’d gotten lazy. waiting and hurting and crying for daniel was exhausting. 
you wanted a love you didn’t have to fight for. 
you’ve convinced yourself that you no longer felt anything for daniel, gaslighting yourself into believing that you’d close that chapter and left it in the past. you can move on now. there was no need for you constantly being miserable and lonely waiting for him to be ready. 
and yet here you were, your fiance’s arm around you as you stare at the front door. you shouldn’t have invited him. there was no reason for you to do so but you wanted to prove yourself. you wanted to prove to yourself that he no longer affected you. daniel is in the past and you’ve told yourself repeatedly that you’ve let him go but now you wanted to show yourself that you have. 
if you’re lucky, maybe he wouldn’t attend at all.
“are you okay, love?” james whispered against your ear, having noticed your stiff posture. you spent weeks planning your engagement party, stressing over the smallest details but now you don’t seem to be enjoying yourself. 
you loved this about him – the way he’s able to read you like an open book. james knows there was someone before him – someone who’d left you broken and torn apart. he just didn’t know that person would be attending today. 
you nod, taking a sip from the champagne glass you’d been holding as an excuse to stop your hands from fidgeting. “just a bit nervous from the crowd.”
“don’t worry too much. it’s just friends and family.” he gives you an assuring smile, accepting your reasoning as he pulls you closer towards him to try and comfort you. 
you’re an idiot, the biggest one there is. max told you himself after you told him that you sent the invite to daniel. you’re a massive idiot and you’re in denial and you set your own trap, tempting yourself when there was no need to and now you were going to hurt james because the moment daniel entered the room, your breath was knocked out of you, heart beating furiously as though it recognized him. 
it was daniel. how can you be so stupid? 
his eyes meets yours and you missed the way those eyes of brown settle on your skin, grazing as though his soul was touching yours. but they’re sad this time – sad and exhausted and defeated and you can practically hear the way your heart shatters. it was daniel. it has always been daniel. it will always be daniel. how stupid were you to think otherwise? how stupid were you to believe you could ever forgot the way your heart and soul roars back to life the moment he enters the room. 
you’ll break james’ heart, you’re breaking your own and you’ve broken his. 
the entire time, you and james had stood before the door, greeting all of your guests and showing them where they can wait. you absolutely had no plans to greet daniel. it was bad enough that he was here, but james, sweet sweet james, who had no idea what he was doing dragging you towards the formula one driver, hadn’t gotten the memo.
he didn’t know that having daniel’s eyes on you so close would set wildfires in your stomach and he didn’t know how exhausting and difficult it was to contain those wildfires. he didn’t know that he was burning himself as he all but dragged you in front of him. 
“hey,” your fiance says cluelessly. “daniel ricciardo!” 
daniel is looking at you and you feel frozen under his gaze. it’s heavy. he makes you feel heavy, like you were cheating on james simply by looking at you. you feel nauseous but with guilt eating up at every cell in your stomach. but you shouldn’t feel guilty. he had no right to make you feel guilty for moving on. he moved on. last you him, he had a girlfriend. why aren’t you allowed to do the same? why can’t you go on with your life and build a future with a nice man that isn’t him?
“i’m a big fan,” james says cheerfully, offering his hand for daniel to shake and forcing him to tear his gaze away from you. 
daniel forces a smile to his face, moving to shake his hand and you know this is the part where you’re supposed to introduce him. daniel is your guest after all and so you clear your throat, hoping your smile isn’t as stiff as you feel like it is. 
“james, this is my friend daniel. daniel, my fiance james.” you manage to let out, gripping your champagne glass to avoid having to touch either of them the same way you avoid the way daniel’s eyes hardened when the word fiance tumbled from your lips. 
“it’s really nice to meet you, mate,” james says with a massive smile. god he’s so nice and sweet and you hate what you’re doing to him. 
daniel says nothing, only smiling and you end this entire interaction the moment you get a chance to. pointing at the snacks table, you turned to him. “there’s food over there and max is around here somewhere. nice seeing you again, daniel.”
you were lying through your goddamn teeth. thankfully, he seems to have taken the hint, walking away without saying another word. 
the entire night, you feel his eyes on you. even as james makes his speech declaring his love for you, daniel stares at you with hooded eyes. he looks pissed and sad at the same time and you wanted to scream. stop looking at me! you couldn’t take anymore of this. he’s looking at you as though you’re under a microscope – staring into your soul like he could reach you there. 
you’re an idiot and now that he’s in the same room as you are, the illusion has left you. you’re not over daniel because you can never be over him. he’s engraved in your soul, his fingerprints all over your heart. he was, and still is, the sun that made your universe turn. you’re choking and you needed to get away lest you burst.
daniel is overwhelming. he’s terrifying and addicting and you hate him but you’re madly in love with him. and worse of all, you’ll spend the rest of your life being in love with him. you’ll spend the rest of your life wanting him and hurting for him and and longing for him and that’s a goddamn fucking tragedy. 
you manage to get through the party, practically dissociating yourself. eventually the guests leave one by one, only your family and closest friends left. you sit on the foyer with max, the dutchman watching you drink champagne straight out of the bottle.
“you shouldn’t have invited him,” he tells you quietly. “you were fucking yourself over.”
you roll your eyes. you stare inside the house where daniel is talking to your father. your dad offered his home for your engagement party. you know he likes james. your mother too and your little siblings can’t get enough of him. that fact almost makes you want to throw up. 
“i thought i was over him,” you say.
it’s max’s turn to roll his eyes. “you’re just a good liar. you’ll never be over daniel and he’ll never be over you. even i know that.”
you glared at him. you already know what he’s telling you and quite frankly, you had no desire to hear it again. “i hate you.” 
“neither you nor dan would survive this long without me.” max laughed and you threw the throw pillow at him. 
not that he’s lying. you met max the same time you did daniel and you clicked immediately. he knows everything, comforted you many times as you pined over dan. he’s your best friend and he’s also daniel’s best friend. he knows more than anyone how deep the connection you two shared. 
“go home already,” you tell him. you’re tired and slightly drunk and you just want to go to bed now. “and make sure you take him with you.” 
max laughed at the way you said him like it’s a bad taste on your tongue but did as you said anyways. 
that night, you laid on the bed you and james shared, you couldn’t sleep. he’s fast asleep next to you, his arm over your stomach as you lay wide awake. you shouldn’t have invited him because now he’s turned your world upside down again. everything you’ve built for yourself was gone the moment his eyes met yours. he’s a plague, sucking all the happiness out of you. 
eventually though, the restless night was about to get worse as you picked up your phone, scrolling through your contacts till you found his name. you stared at it for a while, knowing that you shouldn’t but you’re rattled and your self control is at an all time low. you shouldn’t have been trusted to make any types of decisions. 
you come back to what you need
daniel was waiting for you when you parked your car outside his apartment building, hand gripping his phone as he watched you step out of the vehicle. four years since he first let you go and one year since he last saw you and you look as beautiful as you ever were.
he shouldn’t have told you to come but he’s so exhausted from staying away, from waiting for the right time. there will never be a right time and tonight, he’s done holding back. he wants you, he always has and he no longer has the energy to stop himself from wanting you. 
“i shouldn’t be here,” was the first thing you said as he opened the door for you. 
a lazy, almost mocking smile covered his lips. “and yet here you are.”
you glared at him but daniel’s heart was soaring. it’s been so long since you were this close. he can smell the perfume that followed you and the scent of your shampoo. he’s so so tired, he just wanted to hold you. 
he’s going to make this as hard as possible, you realize. you’re no longer a child, he doesn’t need to play nice and easy with you anymore. you’re a woman now and he’s going to treat you like one. but you just need to get over this. you need closure. you need to put him in the past where he truly belongs so you can go about your life. you need him out of your system. 
daniel may be everything you wanted but it’s time to accept that he’ll never be what you need. 
“why did you come?” you asked, wanting to get this over with as quickly as you can. three years pining for him in red bull and four years of longing for him and everything leads you here. 
daniel cocked an eyebrow. he’s done with playing nice. “you invited me.”
okay, you walked right into that one. “you still shouldn’t have come.” 
daniel wanted to laugh. “i guess we  both like doing shit that we shouldn’t do. now the question is, sweetheart, what are you doing here?” 
“i’m getting married, daniel,” you whispered. “we need to accept that it isn’t us.”
“i thought you did that in abu dhabi.”
he’s being an asshole. “you’re the one who told me to leave. you don’t get to be mad that i’m moving on.”
“you’re not moving on,” he laughed, leaning against the wall. 
you glared at him. “yes, i am. i’m getting married!” 
he looked at you as though you said something hilarious and you wanted to punch him in the face for it. “and yet you’re here.” 
“for closure.”
he stepped towards you and you found yourself holding your breath. from this close, you can see the freckles on your cheeks, the ones you used to spend all your time trying to memorize. the curve of his plump lips and the intensity in his eyes. and when he touched, it felt like the first drop of rain after a million years of dessert. his hand perfectly fitted on your hips, warm and so achingly familiar. 
his hand snaked from your hip to your legs, finger light on your skin as he ever so slightly tugged at your shorts. you need to pull away but your body needs him closer. you want him. you want him to get closer. you want him to touch you more, to feel his skin against yours. you can have every single inch of his body pressed against yours and you’d still begged to get closer. 
his lips graze your cheek before it reaches your ear, even breathes in contrast to your desperately shaky ones. “is that really what you want, baby?”
with every ounce of sanity you have left, you forced yourself to nod and you can feel the way his lips formed into a mocking smile against your cheek. 
“really?” he mocked. “then why are you clutching my shirt like you want more?”
you hadn’t even realized the way your fist is holding on to his shirt, pulling him closer towards you like you’re terrified he’d disappear right between your fingertips. 
“fuck,” you muttered, the heat of his skin against yours dizzying. james is nowhere near your mind as your hand slips under his shirt, self control flying out the window as you feel the curves of his abs. you want him. you’ve always wanted him so desperately that you’re willing to go to hell for it. “fuck me.” 
he kissed you then, fire in his lips as it finally finally touched yours. this is all you’ve ever asked for and it’s worth the damnation you’d be paying in return. you pull him impossibly closer, going on your tiptoes. you need to get closer. closer, closer, closer. 
like an addicted chainsmoker to cigarettes, you can’t get enough of his kiss. you want to inhale the fumes of his breath, of him, deep into your lungs. he tugs at your shirt and you pull away enough for him to get it off. 
you grunt in complaint when he pulled away from you, only to swallow it back as his lips attached to the skin of your chest, licking and nibbling as it slowly made it way down. 
“oh,” you breathe out as he lips attached to your breast, your fingers tugging at his curls as his tongue circled your nipple. 
you should have stopped him the moment his hand unbuttoned your shorts but as he bent you over and his hand slipped between your folds and he trapped your moans with his mouth, you were far too gone. god be damned, morality be damned. you’d crawl through hell for this. 
but eventually, reality comes knocking and morning comes and your bliss ends. you woke up from your phone ringing, cocooned in daniel’s arms. 
“don’t answer it,” he mutters but sleepily, you grab your phone from the nightstand, seeing james’ name on your screen. 
and that snaps you out of it, being reminded of what happened the night before and what you did and you all but jumped out of his arms as though his touch burned you. 
“fuck, fuck, fuck,” you mutter under your breath as you hurriedly put on your clothes, daniel watching you still naked from his place on the bed. you turned to him, “this never happened.”
you watched as anger slowly filled his eyes. “are you being serious right now?” 
“i’m getting married, daniel!” you’re panicking now, screaming as your phone rings again. 
“then why the fuck were you knocking on my door at two in the morning?” 
you ignore him, gathering your things. “it was a mistake.”
he’s glaring at you now, looking like he wanted to start screaming. but he remains silent, only glaring as you gather your things and put on your clothes. 
you look at him again, apologies and sorrow in your eyes. “i’m sorry but this isn’t me. this can’t be me.”
and then you left, not allowing yourself to look back as you ran to your car. maybe in a parallel universe or a different world, you sit next to each other at the kitchen table and go over the grocery list, but for all the universes and worlds there are, this one was not enough, not for now and not for you and daniel. 
when you finally arrive home, your father is in the kitchen, eyeing you up as you walk past him. “where were you? james was looking for you.” 
you grimace. there’s a knowing look in christian’s eyes as though whatever you reason he already knows will be a lie. and unfortunately, he’d be right. “i was out with friends.”
“at seven in the morning?” he narrowed his eyes and you hated his timing. of all times, did he have to question you now? 
“breakfast.” 
you all but run to your room before he can question you further, thanking all the gods that james isn’t there. for a moment, you stood stunned, reeling from the past twenty four hours as the guilt settles in your chest. you need to get as far away from daniel as you possibly can. you can’t be the type of woman who cheats on her fiance. you refuse to be. you refuse to break a good man’s heart like that. 
and yet as you finally calm down enough to try and fix yourself, your phone buzzes, his name appearing on your screen saying he sent you a text message. 
daniel i’ve loved you in every way i can. i loved you selfishly and so i tried loving you distantly, i tried loving you selflessly, i tried loving you correctly but i just want to love you now. if i could do it all over again, i would love you better but i can’t love you more than i do now.
this love came back to me
the wind is chilly as you step foot in hungary and the dress you wore is definitely not meant for it but still, you persevere, finding your way to the red bull motorhome and greeting your father. the last time you attended a grand prix was abu dhabi 2021 and yet it still feels like home. 
“there’s my biggest fan!” max cheered the moment he saw you, immediately wrapping his arms around you. he hasn’t seen you for nearly a year and he missed his best friend. to be fair, no one has seen you for nearly a year, disappearing from the face of the earth after your failed engagement. 
after the night of your engagement party, the guilt ate you alive as you realized that you were exactly the kind of girl you didn’t want to be and so you came clean to james. he screamed and cried and said you could work it out but you were exhausted from lying to yourself. as long as there was daniel, you can never be happy with anyone else and no man deserve to be someone you simply settled with. 
you realized then that you’d lost yourself. you don’t know who you are, don’t know who you’ve become and so you left everything you know, ignoring everyone’s calls as you attempt to find yourself. 
“actually, i’m supporting ferrari,” you joke once max finally lets you go. 
“i’ll disown you!” your father screamed from across the garage, making you and max laugh. 
“have you seen him?” max asked, whispering as though he’s telling you a secret.
you shake your head. coincidentally enough, or ironically, the first gp you attend in a while, daniel is announced to race in. and max, quite frankly, is far too excited for the two of you to see each other again. he’s had enough watching you both be stupid. 
after catching up with max and the mechanics you still know, you find yourself in a cafe with your father, talking about everything and nothing at all. christian watched your every move and you can see the worry in his eyes. he’s part of the people you ran from and you know that it was a cruel thing to do to your father. 
and then he was there and you’re all too familiar with the feeling of your world freezing the moment your eyes meet. he looks better, happier and you’re sure you look different too, hopefully more grown. 
“you’re here,” he says, unbelieving. 
you smile, genuine and free this time. “i’m here.” 
and this time around, you were both tired of fighting it. it’s him. it’s always been him. there was no point denying it. he’s the only person you’ll ever want. you are totally and irrevocably in love with him – the kind of love that’s so intense it feels like an explosion of fireworks throughout your whole body. the love that leaves you sleepless but exhilarated, speechless but poetic, lost but exactly where you're meant to be. 
and in that moment, your lives flashed before your eyes – marriage, children, growing old together. 
daniel ricciardo is the defining moment, the collision of stars that slammed into you so hard it tore your heart in pieces and only he can put it back together again. 
he smiles at you and you smile back. 
hello, love, welcome home.
and finally, finally, it felt like the world isn’t burning anymore. 
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