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#so here’s something I wrote a long time ago
piftamere · 18 hours
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left unsaid - gojo satoru
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synopsis : you tell him you love him for the first time and he freezes completely.
wc : 1k
tags : hurt/mild comfort, bittersweet ending, some miscommunication?
a/n: i was in a weird mood and wrote this in class, so enjoy this little angsty fic :P idk if this has been done before but 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️, gojo is so First love/Late spring coded to me
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Satoru was sitting on the pavement in front of your house.
How long had he been there, waiting for you to come back out ?
Going over everything you said, everything he didn’t, everything he wished he did.
Replaying the "what ifs" over and over, his head in his hands, fingers entangled in the white strands of his hair.
You told him you loved him for the first time and he froze completely.
You must hate him now, he’s sure of it, how could you not when you bared yourself in front of him and he froze. He hates himself too. Maybe it’s for the best, you walking away now, before he can hurt you any more, before you hurt him.
It’s raining hard, he notices, he’s not sure when it started though, it must have been a while ago, because he’s soaked to the bones. But it’s far down the list of his priorities at the moment.
Satoru doesn’t hear the door opening, or the footsteps getting closer, doesn’t hear you call out his name. Everything drowned by the sound of the rain, by his own thoughts. He flinches when you place your hand on his shoulder.
“Satoru? What are you still doing here? You’re drenched…”
He’s staring at the ground, barely acknowledging your presence.
“Come on, let’s go inside.” You reach for his hand to pull him inside, but he won’t budge. His skin is ice cold. He turns to look at you, eyes filled with tears, and your heart sinks into your chest. He opens his mouth to speak but the words refuse to come out. He looks down, defeated, as he gets up to follow you inside.
He makes a few steps before stopping, his hold on your hand tightening.
“I’m sorry,” he mutters, “I’m sorry I couldn’t say I l-” he chokes up, still unable say it.
You don’t turn around, not sure if you can stop yourself from crying if you look at him right now.
“I know, I’m sorry too.”
The sky is darkening, tiny droplets are starting to fall, you’re both laughing as you run hand in hand to your house. You spent the day together at an amusement park, stuffing your faces with sweets.
He stops a few feet from your door, circling his arms around your waist.
“Toru, what are you doing? We’re gonna be wet” you don’t try to get out of his grasp, instead walking closer to him as you chuckle, and he smiles fondly at you.
“It’s just a little water.”
“True...” you reply, wrapping your arms around his neck and tiptoeing to give him a peck on the lips.
He shakes his head no, grinning, “Not good enough, try again”
So you do, who are you to refuse your boyfriend a proper kiss?
As you pull away, you decide you’re ready to tell him what’s been on your mind for weeks. You take a deep breath.
“Toru?” he hums to let you know he’s listening, “I love you”
You wait for him to say something, anything, not necessarily to say it back, but at least to acknowledge it. Instead he freezes, like a deer caught in headlights.
Your arms drop by your side. “Toru?”
“I just...” he starts rambling, “I’m sorry, I don’t-”
You cut him off, you don’t mean too but you’re raising your voice now. “You don’t? Fine, forget I said anything Satoru.” You walk away, almost running, trying your best to hide the tears forming in your eyes, but the cracks in your voice betrayed you already. All he can do is watch you leave.
You’re both inside, in silence. You try not to think about what just happened, so you make him a cup of tea to warm him up, and give him a towel.
“I put sugar in it, just how you like it.” You're uncomfortable, not knowing how to act around him anymore.
The air is thick, you’re having trouble breathing so close to him.
“Listen I-”
“You don’t have to say anything Satoru, it’s ok-”
“Please let me speak”, he cuts you off as he looks up from his cup, his eyes are pleading, still red and puffy from crying. Caught off guard, you simply nod and sit down as far away from him as possible.
“Earlier when you told me… that, I wasn’t expecting it, it left me speechless. But I didn’t mean that I don’t care about you, because I do, you’re the most important person to me, I need you to know that.” His voice is hoarse, he looks so desperate, a tear rolling down his cheek. You want to wipe it, to comfort him more than anything, but you stop yourself.
“You can’t even say it out loud?” You can guess why it’s so hard for him, the last time he loved someone it ended terribly, still your heart aches, and you find yourself wishing he would just leave.
“I’m sorry, I wish I could... but the words get stuck.”
“Do you think you’ll ever be able to say it?” Your voice shakes.
“I don’t know. I think so?” He offers you a timid, hesitant smile.
He reaches out towards your hand, holding it like it’s made of porcelain, “I’m so scared of losing you.”
Satoru is your only weakness. You can’t stand seeing him so vulnerable. It’s impossible not to cave in.
So you do. You let him hold you, caging you in his arms, his face hidden in the crook of your neck.
He takes a deep breath in. “Did you just sniff me?” You chuckled.
You feel him smile against your skin, relieved to hear you stopped crying.
“Maybe.”
“Weirdo.” you whisper.
The topic is still hanging over your heads. You’ll most likely have this conversation again, soon, when you’re both strong enough to stomach it. But in this instant, you can feel each other’s heartbeats, your tears are drying and as the rain stops, everything is fine.
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fiveredlights · 2 days
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there's glitter on the floor after the party: the deleted scenes
i'm sure it'll make someone happy because i think we all need it! just as a note, this is all unedited so some of it might make no sense and that's okay.
(i recommend the google doc for easier reading otherwise the whole thing is under the cut)
Chapter one: 2023
I don’t have anything to show…anything I did cut has already been long deleted. My bad. The first two are very sparse because I was cutting unwanted things as my Google docs was lagging whenever I opened it. The only thing I remember writing that chapter was that it was meant to coincide with Daniel’s return to COTA in real life but I ran out of time so I pushed it back to Las Vegas. 
Chapter two: 2024
CUT: Daniel winning the championship
WHY: Felt too rushed and easy. No emotional pay off, you were only just introduced to Daniel in RBR again. Also don’t ask me what happened to Max for him to not just clean sweep 2023-2027. Also don’t ask who won the championship in 2026. I declare that your favourite driver won it and I definitely did not forget to give a championship. 
DANIEL: Oh my god, it’s just surreal like I don’t know how to describe it. Especially after the past couple years, it’s just—yeah. And to do it with Max too, it’s just something special for me and the team. 
MISCELLANEOUS: 
73 Questions With Daniel Ricciardo | Vogue
3.3M views 2 days ago …more
Vogue 4M
[00:00:00]
DANIEL: Hello Vogue, didn’t see you there. Welcome to my home away from home.
[00:13:33]
PRODUCER: One sentence you could tell your younger self? 
DANIEL: Doors are meant to be opened. 
[00:15:09]
PRODUCER: Worst thing about racing in Formula 1?
DANIEL: Accidents, hands down. It’s horrifying as a driver to watch someone crash, because that’s when everything sort of gets a reality check in the cockpit. Like we are racing around at three-hundred kilometres an hour, and there is a real chance that something could go wrong. I’ll never forget Max’s Silverstone accident, just—yeah it just a horrible thing to witness.
emotionalsupportredbull
not daniel fidgeting with his necklace when he talks about max’s silverstone crash… you ain’t slick boy
#yes i have deluded myself into thinking it’s from max #i’m already depressed i don’t want to hear it #join team emotional support redbull delusions
348 notes
frenchpine
qu'est-ce que tu sais, espèce de salope française qui aime l'érable et qui parle bizarrement ? sors avec ça (What do you know you maple-loving weird speaking French bitch? Come out with it)
#je ne veux pas te traiter de salope #ou peut-être que c'est le cas (#i don’t mean to call you a bitch #or maybe i do)
392 notes
(i promise i wrote this before he decided to rear end daniel in china. i pinky promise.)
landando
daniel “doors are meant to be opened” ricciardo
#what is my man on #doors are meant to be opened 😭😭 #he didn’t open a door one time and it’s haunted him for life
78 notes
Chapter three: 2025
CUT: Red Bull marketing video
WHY: Chapter was already very long. Also I couldn’t find any good questions.
Daniel and Max play the F1 newlywed game 💒💍
827K views 10 hours ago #Gives you wings #F1 … more
Oracle Red Bull Racing 1.58M 
INT. RED BULL RACING HOSPITALITY - DAY
[00:00:00]
MAX: Hello everyone and today we are playing the newlywed game. 
DANIEL: Are you excited? 
MAX: I mean I have to say yes otherwise I look like I’m in an unhappy marriage. 
DANIEL: Wow—
MAX:—Also the name doesn’t even make sense. Newlywed? That isn’t us.
DANIEL: [To off screen] Guys, I would get someone to approve your overtime, we’re gonna be here a while. 
[00:02:01]
OFF SCREEN: Who is more likely to overpack for a holiday?
DANIEL: Don’t look at me!
MAX: We have three suitcases. 
DANIEL: It takes effort to look this good. 
MAX: Three suitcases every single race weekend.
DANIEL: What’s the next question? 
CUT: Lucinda’s vaguely threatening email
WHY: Broke the fourth wall. Glitter on the floor is meant to be solely a third POV view and I couldn’t justify it. 
CONFIDENTIAL: PRESS STRATEGY REGARDING MAX VERSTAPPEN AND DANIEL RICCIARDO
From: lucindasalzar@/press.redbull.racing
To: maxverstappen@/redbull.racing, danielricciardo@/redbull.racing
CC: christianhorner@/redbull.racing, teamdaniel@/press.redbull.racing, teammax@/press.redbull.racing
Date: 21 Nov 2025 at 3:04am
Hi all, 
Please see attachment below for finalised details regarding your press strategy and talking points this weekend. Media have been advised to not ask any questions about the ring and we’d like to keep it that way. Remember to keep it vague if you do get asked, and if you don’t feel comfortable a simple no comment will suffice. 
Please email for any further clarification or questions and good luck this weekend. (And please no spur of the moment Las Vegas—Elvis impersonator weddings you two.) 
Best regards, 
Lucinda Salzar (she/her)
Head of Communications, Red Bull Racing. 
E: lucindasalzar@/press.redbull.racing
P: +44 ** **** *****
CUT: The chaotic Abu Dhabi super seat swap
WHY: I had to cut this because I altered the timeline, Las Vegas was going to the second last race. In an earlier version Max and Daniel were gonna come back in 2026 and also drop the Matilda news at the same time but I wanted more content just out of Maxiel so I had to leave this on the cutting board. Some of it made it into the published fic but the original thing was more chaotic. (Also I changed the Red Bull junior driver at least once a week because they kept dropping them. It went from Hauger, to Crawford, to Maloney and then I just gave up because I could not keep up.)
lights-out-away-we-go
red bull needed to replace two drivers and they did in THE MOST CHAOTIC way possible. okay, just listen: 
the official red bull reserve driver is liam lawson (of alpha tauri, so he obviously gets pulled up)
alpha tauri then call on zane maloney to replace liam (alpha tauri’s reserve driver)
BUT, daniel’s car still needs to fulfil the mandatory rookie free practice session (max’s was completed in mexico when maloney drove)
red bull can’t get zane in daniel’s car again cause he’s got to drive liam’s… so they’ve got to find someone who has the super licence points … we’ll come back to this
so right now car 3 is being driven by liam lawson, car 40 is driven by zane maloney. i hear you ask… who is driving car 1? it’s none other than yuki tsunoda (of alphatauri)
I KNOW, but red bull have quite literally run out of contracted reserve drivers and i believe because every driver is technically employed by red bull (whether they drive for RB or AT) they’re able to pull them up or down without the FIA kicking up a fuss
i’ll wait for why red bull pulled up both AT’s 
this means yuki tsunoda’s alpha tauri will be without a driver and once again, red bull call Pepe Marti
#i don’t even know if this is 100% correct i could be so wrong
13,482 notes
SKY F1 SPORTS- 2025 ABU DHABI GRAND PRIX - FREE PRACTICE 1
David CROFT: Welcome ladies and gentlemen to our final race of the 2025 season, to our first free practice session under the blistering sun of Abu Dhabi and if this is your first time watching, welcome along cause this will certainly be an interesting race weekend. Now, eagle eyed viewers may have caught that AlphaTauri driver Yuki Tsunoda is in the Red Bull, and his team mate is sitting in the next garage over not in a car. Anthony Davidson is with me—Ant, care to explain to our viewers at home the driver seat swap chaos that’s happening down at Red Bull? 
Anthony DAVIDSON: Hello everyone, wherever in the world you may be watching and yes, chaos is the right word for it isn’t it? I’ve got about five pieces of paper and I’m going to do my best to explain, what I think, is the most complicated driver situation in F1 history. 
CROFT: Yes, for those who didn’t join us last time out or who may be new to F1, I promise driver seat talk usually isn’t this complicated but we’ll do our best to make sense of it all. Now we’ve got to start at the last race for it all to make sense. Red Bull driver Daniel Ricciardo had a nasty crash with Enzo Fittipaldi of Haas that left him with a concussion and bruised ribs, which is why presumably he isn’t racing today, and we wish him well in his recovery. Red Bull’s other driver Max Verstappen was also not able to race this weekend for an unspecified reason, so Red Bull are left with two empty seats.
DAVIDSON: We know that Red Bull’s official reserve driver is Liam Lawson, so that’s no problem there. He’s driving Daniel’s number 3 car, but here’s where the trouble starts. Car number 3 still needs to complete its mandatory FP1 session, which Zane Maloney was planning to do this session. But you’ll notice that Zane is in Liam’s car right now, the Alpha Tauri—and this is because he’s Alpha Tauri’s reserve driver. 
CROFT: Still following everyone? So far, car number 3 is being driven by Liam Lawson, car number 40 is being driven by Zane Maloney. But Liam Lawson isn’t even in car number 3 at the moment, it’s Pepe Marti, who is currently racing in Formula 2 and part of Red Bull’s junior academy. He’s competing the mandatory rookie FP1 session for car number 3.
DAVIDSON: So now we move onto Max Verstappen’s car, which is being driven by the other AlphaTauri driver, Yuki Tsunoda. Which now means AlphaTauri needs a driver to replace him and it’s Red Bull junior driver, Isack Hadjar who is in car number 22. 
CROFT: Right, so it’s Yuki Tsunoda and Liam Lawson in Red Bull for the race, Zane Maloney and Isack Hadjar in the AlphaTauri’s and Pepe Marti in Liam or Daniel’s Red Bull for FP1. Confused? Don’t worry, so are we so bare with us if we accidentally get names and teams wrong because I believe this is possibly the biggest driver change in F1 history.
DAVIDSON: Yes and because I know people will be asking, “Why didn’t Red Bull just put Maloney in Daniel’s car for the whole weekend?” and we have an answer and officially, it’s because of contracts. Whatever behind the scenes isn’t allowing him to drive that Red Bull which is why they called up Yuki instead. Maloney has also said he feels more confident driving the AlphaTauri all weekend rather than the Red Bull, so that also may play a factor in this. 
CROFT: But also this is a perfect opportunity for Red Bull to compare both drivers, should the opportunity for one of them to make the move into Red Bull when the time arises. 
Chapter four: 2026
CUT: Netflix Drive to Survive script
WHY: Once again, I was lazy and didn’t want to write a script. I kinda wish I did though, I think it would’ve given Las Vegas 2025 more substance, especially because you only see it through a fan perspective whereas DTS allows you to get the driver’s perspective, but I do plan to finish this off…. eventually….
Netflix- Drive to Survive
Season 9, Episode 3 “Redemption”
The Las Vegas Grand Prix is back in town but it’s not all good fortunes for those driving. The biggest paddock secret is unveiled.
INT. KITCHEN - MORNING
We see scrambled eggs on a frying pan. 
OFF SCREEN:  Daniel? Where is my jumper? The blue one? 
The camera zooms out from the eggs to see Daniel, wearing a light blue jumper, grimacing at the camera. 
DANIEL: (Under his breath) To be fair it was my jumper first.
The camera swings to Max in the doorway, arms crossed as he narrows his eyes at Daniel. 
MAX: I heard that. 
(In the garage, during the crash.)
RED BULL TEAM MEMBER #1: Has anyone told Max? 
RED BULL TEAM MEMBER #2: We’re not telling him.
RED BULL TEAM MEMBER #3: Seriously? 
RED BULL TEAM MEMBER #1: He thinks his husband is dead, we’re telling him!
INT. HOTEL ROOM
PRODUCER: Do you have some fears about allowing the world to know about your relationship? 
DANIEL: God, of course I have. We both have. But we spent so long being—not scared, but worried let’s say about the consequences of us just being together. But then Las Vegas happened and all I wanted was Max to sit by my bedside and make a stupid joke about me being in hospital again. And it was when Christian literally had to fight multiple people to get Max into that hospital I realised that what we were doing was unsustainable. 
PRODUCER: Unsustainable? 
DANIEL: Are you married? 
PRODUCER: Yes? 
DANIEL: Have you ever watched your partner crash into something at three hundred kilometres an hour and no one telling you if they were even alive? Because I’ve done that. We’ve done that. Multiple times. 
Montage of different Max & Daniel accidents. 
DANIEL: And then you have to go on with your day, going to debrief, doing press but all you really want to do is go to them and make sure that they’re even alive? 
PRODUCER: …
DANIEL: So yeah. Unsustainable. 
333 update account @/official333
📺 | Drive to Survive (Netflix) 
Daniel talking about his relationship with Max on and off the track: 
Q: Do you think it’s been challenging to balance out the relationship given your unique relationship with Max? 
Daniel: No, and I think people over dramatise the complexity of it all. I mean sure, it has been somewhat difficult, especially at the beginning but in the end it is just racing, you know? We’re both aware that we are something different from the other drivers, but I like that. Not many people get to do what they love with their partner right next to them, so I definitely take every race we do together for granted. 
476 replies 88 reposts 8,372 likes
CUT: Alternate ‘M’ reveal
WHY: I genuinely spent like half an hour thinking if fictional Max and Daniel would show Matilda, I had earlier drafts where they hide her face until I was like okay, this is fictional. Bad things do not exist in this universe, so it’s fine. Plus, Matilda is so cute I can’t hide her.
[Video: Daniel, standing in front of a door. 
DANIEL: I know a lot of you guys might have noticed that I’ve been dropping clues towards who this mysterious M is and it’s finally time to reveal who it is. 
He opens the door and pans the camera to Max. 
DANIEL: M stands for Max. Sorry to break the news, it’s not that exciting. Wait, who’s that? 
The camera pans further down to show Max holding a baby, she’s sleeping soundly in Max’s arm.
Photo: A baby. She’s wearing a light blue onesie, and her hand is wrapped around a mini honey badger soft toy.]
Liked by lucsalzar and others
danielricciardo Everybody meet Matilda. Matilda, this is everybody. 
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georgerussell63 They learnt what hard launching is and said we’re going to do it for everything… Congrats 🙌 
landonorris be prepared for the onslaught of driver themed onesies coming your way… 
1 March
CUT: The half-completed TIME article about Daniel
WHY: I did not have it in me to write another 1000 word article. I spent around a week just writing Daniel’s The Players’ Tribune article. But what I did write, I did like. Was also around the time TIME named Taylor Swift as their person of the year, so that’s where I got that inspiration. 
How 2025 was the year of the Honey Badger—Daniel Ricciardo on winning his first Formula 1 Championship during a historic year.
by Tylda Rune-Liberi for TIME
February 15, 2026 9:33AM EST
It’s 2017 and F1 driver Daniel Ricciardo was asked in a press conference what race he would like the new owners of F1 to host. His answer? Las Vegas. In 2023, five years on, his wish was granted. Two years later, in 2025, the race he had proclaimed as a dream race would turn into stuff of nightmares. 
Leading the race and looking like he would take a first win at Las Vegas after a podium in 2023, it looked like everything was going Ricciardo’s way until a bizarre accident with Kick Stake Sauber’s Theo Pourchaire causes a major accident, leaving Ricciardo wedged in the cockpit for over half an hour. 
Pourchaire had given way to Ricciardo as he was being lapped, before attempting to unlap himself, choosing the wrong moment as Ricciardo was heading into the pitlane. Radios released after the accident have Pourchaire admit he “didn’t think he was going into the pit lane.”
It’s a horrifying crash to watch—even with the knowledge that both drivers would be okay, and it would soon be clear that no one felt it more in the pitlane than Ricciardo’s own teammate: Max Verstappen. 
Formula 1 drivers all drive with the knowledge that a crash could happen at any given moment, but this accident was different. 
[Photo: Daniel, in a dark navy denim blue overshirt and jeans.]
Ricciardo and Verstappen have had a long and varied partnership throughout their career, first starting in 2016 where Verstappen was brought up mid season from then-Red Bull junior team Toro Rosso (now Visa Cash App RB), winning his debut race with the team, where it looked like the win would go to Ricciardo instead. They would go on to be teammates for another two seasons, before Ricciardo announced a shocking move to Renault (now Alpine). 
One thing that stood out about their initial partnership was how their off track friendship never seemed to waver, even in their most turbulent of times (see Hungary 2017 or Azerbaijan 2018). In an era where friendships between teammates seemed to famously end in failure, in the likes of fan dubbed ‘Brocedes’ (Nico Rosberg & Lewis Hamilton; best friends growing up who’s friendship ended in rivalry fighting for a championship) or former Red Bull teammates Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber (Multi-21 Seb?), it was an outlier that the two remained such good friends, even after Ricciardo had departed Red Bull. 
Even Ricciardo mentions that Lewis Hamilton had gone up to him to ask how Verstappen and Ricciardo had managed to keep their friendship going even though they had tussles on track. “I don’t really know,” Ricciardo says. “I mean it’s definitely all in hindsight now, but I think it was because we—or at least I—knew that our friendship was really important. Like it was no matter what happens I don’t go and screw up this friendship I have with Max.”
Ricciardo would go through a bumpy time in his post-Red Bull career, going through two seasons at Renault, two seasons at McLaren before a 6 month break where he was named ‘Third Driver’ for Red Bull, a 6 month stint in Red Bull sister team AlphaTauri (formerly Toro Rosso, now Visa Cash App RB) which was marked with Ricciardo missing 5 races due to a hand injury during a free practice session in Zandvoort before returning back to the very seat he left six years earlier, Red Bull announcing Ricciardo’s return at the 2023 Las Vegas race. 
A move that was then deemed as a surprise move by many pundits, all was put to rest when Riccardo finessed his AlphaTauri in the podium position, grabbing the team 3rd place and their first podium since Pierre Gasly in 2021. 
Something was different about this second stint, and it wasn’t the journeys they’ve both gone on since they both parted ways. There was something different about them together. 
[Photo: Max and Daniel laughing in the Red Bull garage.]
Nine years on since their first race together, it was oddly reminiscent of their first. Verstappen crossed the line to win a race his teammate had been poised to do so. Only this time, the celebrations were much different. 
With Ricciardo in hospital, Verstappen quickly left the race track after a tuned down podium ceremony, skipping out on mandatory post-race media duties, where competitors and team can attract fines for doing so. (The FIA opted not to fine Verstappen and Red Bull in this instance.) 
Even during the red flag it was clearly Verstappen was antsy, with his radio calls after finding out his teammate was in an accident conveying his state of worry. Leaked video from inside the Red Bull garage has Verstappen mention not finishing the race, wanting to be by Ricciardo’s side instead. 
///
“I remember I posted the post and people were like ‘Oh, maybe he meant it in a friendly way’ and I was like f***, I’ve got to actually spell it out for them.” Hence, the iconic post that broke the F1 world was born. 
[Daniel’s tweet.] 
It’s 2020, and the Australian Grand Prix has just been cancelled due to COVID. 
All the drivers and teams are left scrambling to try and leave the country before the borders close, and Daniel Ricciardo has just invited Max Verstappen to stay over at his house in Perth. 
“I don’t think I can even call it a friendly gesture, because as much as I like the other guys on the grid, there’s no way I would’ve invited them over.”
///
“Yeah, I won a championship. But I’m still the same person.”
Ricciardo’s often been somewhat of an open book, he says—whether it was for the better or for the worse. Every aspect of his life has been so highly publicised, from winning races to what it looks like when he’s not, it’s remarkable how he still holds nearly the same candour, even if his name and career has seemingly been dragged through the mud a thousand times over by the media. 
Last year he publicly came out in a F1-related podcast, to what he says was very unplanned. “I didn’t plan to come out, let’s say, it just kind of happened. 
“I didn’t even plan to come out, let's say, it just kind of happened? I was recording a podcast and I was talking about 2022 and how it unfolded, the support systems around me and I said “my partner”, and a part of me went Oh, shit! I hadn’t talked about my relationships at length before that, and I knew people were going to absolutely run with it and then I was like—well, might as well just go the whole nine yards, so then the second reference to my partner I very deliberately dropped in he. And that was it.”
“I remember so vividly, I went home that night and I told Max, oh I think I did something stupid and his mind immediately went to me accidentally leaking like team secrets or something big like that, and I was like no, I may have accidentally came out and within like three seconds you could see is brain just switch. 
“There is no we found the elephant in the room or whatever. The elephant has always been in the room and it’s just decided to make its presence known.”
“Look, I definitely understand some of the criticism that some people may have with F1 or Red Bull or us capitalising on our relationship or whatever, but I think now more than ever there’s a need to perhaps know who the drivers are when they aren’t driving.” Ricciardo adds. 
“Because it’s all fine and good if John Smith is winning races and driving amazingly, but if you know next to nothing about the person because it seems like they’re packed up and shipped race to race, you’re not going to root for the guy because they’ve made no connection.”
Ricciardo quickly clarifies that it’s not a negative for sports people or celebrities to maintain their personal lives, but he sees it more as a way to express or show what he wants to show in his own lives. “We spent nearly five years it near complete secrecy from the outside world and whilst I’m not saying that we should’ve just been public right from the start—we probably wouldn’t have survived—I was just wanting to post a photo of Max burning dinner or something and not have gossip magazines or Instagram accounts dissect every pixel of it.”
Did Ricciardo get pushback from the FIA or his team? It’s a difficult question to answer, he tells me. NDAs and whatnot. He says, “The team was wonderful about it, though. Had multiple team members come up to us willingly to fight the higher powers if needed which was very sweet.”
“Let’s just say there were conversations that I had been made aware of that had made me feel like we weren’t even allowed to look at each other when we were in the paddock. I felt like they were asking me to only refer to him as my teammate, stuff along those lines.”
///
“One of our friends told us at our wedding something along the lines of for F1 drivers, you did move pretty fucking slow in your relationship! And Max was like yeah, did you know who we were in 2018?” Ricciardo laughs loudly, scaring one of the cats who seemed ready to take a nap. 
///
“I used to rely so much on what other people thought of me, it wasn’t enough that I thought I was the best guy out there, you also had to think I was the best guy out there.”
///
Racing has always been part of Ricciardo’s life, but he doesn’t want it to be the only thing now in his life. He wants you to ask about things not related to racing, like how much he loves his family or how he thinks the Buffalo Bills are the greatest NFL team on earth. 
“I’m not going to do this forever, you know?” He says, finishing the can of Red Bull he’d been slowly sipping throughout the course of this piece. “I hope when I look back at these years of my life I’m going to be equally proud of what I did in the car and what I did outside of it.” — With reporting done by Tylda Rune-Liberi and Nicolas St. Revelate. 
CUT: Max and the team getting called up to the FIA
WHY: The FIA seems like an organisation who might send me a cease and desist if I wrote them as quietly homophobic. I don’t have money for a lawsuit. Also wanted to keep the universe happy because the real one is not. Still think my Mad Mex reference is funny.
Autosport @/autosport
Breaking: Max Verstappen summoned to the stewards after allegedly breaking parc ferme rules. 
12 replies 90 reposts 821 likes
F1 - 2026 AUSTRALIAN GRAND PRIX - POST RACE PRESS CONFERENCE - TRANSCRIPT
23.3.26
Q: Sorry, Daniel just coming back to you now. We’ve just received word that Max Verstappen has just been summoned to the stewards for breaking parc fermé conditions, any reaction on that? 
Daniel RICCIARDO: For what? 
Q: Uh, we think it might be related to post race procedures around weighing. Not entirely sure yet, his meeting is at 6:15pm.
DR: Well there goes our dinner plans. To be fair our dinner plans were literally just Mad Mex in our hotel rooms before flying to Perth, but still. 
Jack DOOHAN: Mad what? 
DR: Mad Mex? You know, the Mexican fast food place. Surely you’ve had it. 
JD: Oh, I thought you said Mad Max and I was like, “He finished P4 that doesn’t seem too bad.”
DR: Did Max not do the weigh in or what? 
Q: He did, after your podium. Sorry mate, even more bad news for the team, they’ve been summoned to the stewards as well.
DR: If I find out I’m going to lose another podium about ten years on after the race here I’m gonna be pissed.
Q: This one is related to Article 26.13 b, where “Unless authorised by the FIA, no one under the age of 16 is permitted in the pit lane at the following times: b) The period commencing fifteen (15) minutes before the pit exit is opened to allow cars to cover reconnaissance laps and the time when the last car enters the parc fermé after the sprint session or the race has ended.”
DR: What cause we had our daughter with us at the podium celebration? 
Q: Quite possibly, yeah. 
DR: That’s interesting. I—yeah, I’m just gonna say that’s interesting.
Oscar PIASTRI: Kevin had his kids with him in Monza twenty four, didn’t he? 
DR: Yeah, I’m sure the team will have a lot to say so we’ll just leave it at that. 
CUT: Reaction to Australia winning
WHY: Timeline changes. Original timeline was Australia 2026 being their first race back after Las Vegas and relationship/kid reveal. I apparently also cut the all Australian podium. Can't remember why.
[Photo 1: 
Photo 2: 
Photo 3: 
Photo 4: Lucinda holding the constructor trophy on the podium, Daniel giving a big grin next to her.]
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danielricciardo Never thought I’d be able to share a podium with two other Aussies but what better time than at our home race. @/jackdoohan @/oscarpiastri @/redbullracing 🇦🇺❤️
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ausgp Surely this gets us a public holiday?! @/auspm 
oscarpiastri We’re about to get even more annoying… 
Oracle Red Bull Racing @/redbullracing 
Don’t mind us, we’re just in a puddle of tears over how cute @/Max33Verstappen and @/danielricciardo are 😍😭🫶
[Video: Taken from behind the parc ferme barriers, Daniel holding Matilda as Max hugs him, one hand around his waist and the other around the back of his neck.]
jeanie 🤠 @/COTADANIEL
flabbergasted about how well max and daniel hid their relationship from the world because man that he looks at daniel like he hung the moon stars and the sun and we’ve just been blind to notice
jake @/381racers
Maxiel admin logged on today thank you universe 🙏
DANIEL: Yeah, I just didn’t think I was able to have this, you know? If you had told me like seven years ago that hey, “You’ll be winning again and Max and your kid will be right along with you”, I would’ve laughed in your face. There is still absolutely more work to do, but I’m just glad I get to have my little moment without like some of these outside factors screaming and kicking at us. 
CUT: Jake @/381racers meeting Daniel
WHY: Felt too indulgent. Loved it, but I think the idea pushed the boundaries/fourth wall maybe A Little too much, even for my low standards.
jake @/381racers
Only felt right that I get this signed 
[Photo: Jake’s infamous tweet “Max Verstappen can you fight?” printed out and framed. Max has signed it and wrote “Yes he can.”]
jake @/381racers
First photo really Daniel did you have to shame me further . I thought we had a promise. Anyways, here's the video of me meeting them.
[Video: Jake meeting Daniel, in Red Bull hospitality. They’re both sitting down in chairs, and Jake has his hands on top of a frame placed face down on the table. 
JAKE: Do you remember like two years ago in COTA you wore a leather jacket outfit and basically the internet blew up because of how good you looked? 
DANIEL: Yeah, with the cowboy hat and everything! 
JAKE: And there was a tweet that trended on that weekend—
Daniel sits up in his chair, eyes widening in realisation of who Jake is. 
DANIEL: Oh my god you’re “Max Verstappen can you fight?” guy?!
JAKE: Embarrassingly, yes. 
DANIEL: (offscreen) How did you find him?! 
OFFSCREEN: Remember when I said I was going to bring my boyfriend this race? 
Daniel looks back and forth behind the person offscreen and Jake multiple times before bending over and laughing hysterically. 
OFFSCREEN: Yeah, I’m not happy about it either. 
DANIEL: Oh my god did I like cause you two to meet? 
jake @/381racers
No I too am not happy about my internet history coming back to bite me 
CUT: Interview with Lawrence Baretto
WHY: I ran out of time. I had planned to post this at the end of Jan, but since I didn’t post that NYD bonus fic, I didn’t wanna go a month without an update so this got culled. Also my vague illusions to Max’s dad felt a little weird.
Exclusive: Daniel Ricciardo on retirement, 15 years of F1 and family with Lawerence Barretto
When I ask about his daughter and if they have any interest in making her follow in her parents footsteps, he shuts down my line of questioning pretty quickly. 
“No,” he immediately says. “I’m not going to write out a path for her to follow, or put expectations for her to go into karting because of a family legacy. I think Max knows it a little bit more than me, how the expectations of someone who’s meant to take care of you can tarnish the thing you love.” 
Jos Verstappen, Max’s father and former F1 driver hasn’t been seen in the paddock since 2023. Both declined to comment when asked. 
“If she wants to start karting, then we’ll probably have a very long conversation about how it’s important that she finds it fun and if she doesn’t then she doesn’t. It’s not important to me that she wins or whatever, I just want her to enjoy it.”
Chapter five: 2027
CUT: Drive to Survive script
WHY: I did not have the energy to write a full script, and I felt like there were too many events to write about and I could not do it justice. Also I would like idk if Max and Daniel would show Matilda on DTS which is crazy because Matilda is not real…
Drive to Survive
Season 10 Episode 10 “One final rodeo…”
After fifteen years in the sport, Formula 1 says goodbye to Daniel Ricciardo. 
[00:20:26]
INT. HOTEL ROOM INTERVIEW
PRODUCER:  We don’t have to talk about Las Vegas. 
DANIEL:  No, it's fine. Probably should. Uh—yeah. 
PRODUCER:  We can take a minute. 
DANIEL:  Yeah, thanks. I didn’t talk about it last year did I? 
PRODUCER:  No. Okay, we’ll cut. 
CUT TO BLACK. 
Sound of car crashing into wall, before it fades in to show the Red Bull in the pitlane wall. Cuts to people reacting—Red Bull employees, fans in the grandstands and then a birds eye aerial view of the crash, showing the medical and extraction crew. 
PIERRE HAMLIN (V.O): Daniel, are you okay? 
Cuts to Max’s T-CAM footage, him driving past the car. 
MAX (V.O): What the fuck happened? 
PIERRE: Daniel, please just press the radio button so we know you’re okay. 
Cuts to Daniel’s T-CAM footage, his helmet leans against the left side of the halo, indicating he’s unmoving. 
PIERRE: Daniel, can you hear me? 
Cuts to showing the Red Bull pitwall, everyone looking at each other worried. 
DANIEL (V.O): The first thought I had was: Shit. This is really bad timing. Second thought I had was: Max is going to kill me.
Cuts to Daniel's forward facing cockpit onboard, him moving his head and looking up and down the cockpit.
PIERRE: Daniel?
DANIEL: Yep. Fuck. My chest, fuck. Shit, is um the other driver okay?
PIERRE: Yes, he's okay but don't worry about him. Do you think you can get out of the car?
DANIEL: Yeah no, I don't think that's happening with breaking something. Fuck, my ribs. Oh god. I think something's broken.
PIERRE: Okay Daniel, the medical team are nearly there but do not move if you think it will cause more damage. The car is safe, so do not worry about anything else.
DANIEL: Yep, okay. Um, will someone tell Max I'm okay? Just, don't freak him out yeah?
PIERRE: Copy Daniel, it will be okay, it will be okay. Just keep radio on please.
DANIEL: Okay. Fuck, this sucks.
INT. STUDIO
TEXT: Max Verstappen, Red Bull Racing driver
MAX VERSTAPPEN: Been a while. 
PRODUCER: Didn’t think you were going to agree. 
MAX VERSTAPPEN: Would be a big thing if you made it look like we hated each other again! 
PRODUCER: We asked Daniel what his first thought was when he had that accident. He said “This is really bad timing” and that you were going to kill him. Why? 
MAX: Well, because of Matilda.
EXT. PORT HERCULES, MONACO— MORNING
 Long shot of Port Hercules, Monaco, filmed from a balcony. It’s peaceful, quiet—the city sounds filling the background before we hear a baby scream in joy. 
DANIEL: Matilda! 
Matilda is on the floor in the living room, on a playmat and she plays with wooden blocks. Max is next to her on the ground, with his back leant against the couch, Daniel is on the couch. 
DANIEL (V.O): Yeah, she’s one of the best things to happen to me. For a long time my whole life was just racing, but now she’s my whole life. Like it’s okay if I have a bad race or whatever, I’ve got to move on quickly because she’s there at home waiting.  
MAX: Having a kid does change you, I think. Daniel will not say his driving has changed, but it has. 
PRODUCER: In what way? 
MAX: I think now he is more focused on winning every race, not that he wasn’t before. But because maybe he knows that every race matters more now. You hope that the others around you will not be too reckless so that you can go home after the race. 
EXT. CIRCUIT OF THE AMERICAS — MIDDAY
TEXT ON SCREEN: 2025 UNITED STATES GRAND PRIX
RED BULL EMPLOYEE #1: Hey, welcome back Danny! 
DANIEL: Thank you, thank you. Hope you didn’t miss my handsome face too much. 
RED BULL EMPLOYEE #1: I didn’t know Jake went on holiday! 
DANIEL: I’m gonna crash the car just for that.
RED BULL EMPLOYEE #2: No, we’re just kidding. So how’s the baby? 
DANIEL: She’s great, do you wanna see a photo? 
RED BULL EMPLOYEE #1: Oh, she’s adorable. Matilda was her name? 
DANIEL: Yeah, yeah. We had a list but I think Matilda was the only one that stood out to us. She just looks like a Matilda you know? 
///
The camera swings to the right, as Daniel’s head sticks out from the door. 
DANIEL RICCIARDO: You aren’t talking shit about me, Maxy? 
MAX VERSTAPPEN: Of course I am. 
///
MAX: I have raced with Daniel in every single year of F1. I think it will be weird.
DANIEL RICCIARDO I think I was a pretty good darn car mechanic. 
CUT: Max’s interview with GQ
WHY: If you haven’t learnt by now, I am very lazy. Honestly, I just wanted this chapter out and I knew I didn’t have the time to write a whole article. Also I don’t think Max would be this open about this relationship but maybe Daniel made him more open in this universe. I still stand by the first sentence, it is possibly the truest thing to come out of the fic.
You can’t talk about Max Verstappen without eventually talking about Daniel Ricciardo, and you can’t talk about Daniel Ricciardo without eventually talking about Max Verstappen. This was a true statement in the earlier part of Verstappen’s career, but now perhaps even more so. “He’s made me a much better person,” Verstappen comments when I ask him about his husband. “I maybe wasn’t the best person to be teammates with when I was first in Formula 1, but he stayed friends with me. Even after he left and I was not being nice to him, he still stayed. That was very important to me.”
There’s a certain aura of happiness that comes from Verstappen when he starts talking about Ricciardo, and he says it’s probably one of the most documented love stories of F1. 
It started in the early morning after the final race of the 2018 season, and a drunk voicemail to Ricciardo kicked things off. “I was still mad that he was going, and I had too many gin and tonics and I called him at like 12 am or something. Obviously he didn’t answer because he was sleeping but I said really embarrassing stuff in that voicemail.” He left one more a couple hours later, asking Ricciardo not to mention it. 
“He really took that to heart.” Verstappen laughs. “I don’t really know why, we would talk when we saw each other on race weekends and pretend that everything was fine between us.” 
They were seemingly friends only when it was the race weekend, but off track they had never been further apart. There was a lot of resentment and unsaid conversation from Verstappen’s side, self proclaiming that his stubbornness had put a pin in their relationship. “It’s easy to say now looking back, but I thought Daniel leaving Red Bull was also leaving me. And I didn’t take it well.”
But a little bit of push and shove from his fellow friends made him realise that having Ricciardo in his life was more important than whatever feelings he had towards him leaving. 
///
Verstappen proposed two years later in December 2022 at that same house. “Coordinates of the house and everything on the ring,” Ricciardo comments when he drops in to grab something from the office. “Cried like a baby when I realised.”
Deleted Epilogue:
WHY: I still can’t decide if Matilda would go down the F1 path. If she did, she is definitely a Ferrari driver. Just to mess with her dads. I think she would sign with Red Bull in the junior seasons, maybe do two seasons with Red Bull then switch to Ferrari. A Sebastian Vettel if you will…let’s hope it turns out better for her than him. 
[Photo 1: A Ferrari car crossing the chequered flag.
Photo 2: Matilda on the third step of the podium, holding the trophy in the air, the Australian flag wrapped around her shoulders.]
Photo 3: Matilda hugging her parents in parc ferme.]
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mvr one home race down 🇦🇺, one more to go 🇳🇱 😉
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scuderiaferrari 👏🎉
23 March
SKY SPORTS: 2048 AUSTRALIAN GRAND PRIX
David CROFT: And Matilda Verstappen-Ricciardo absolutely sends it down the inside and makes it stick, and what a move! Gosh, I was not expecting her to pull it off but she absolutely does and gets a roar of a cheer from the home crowd, Verstappen-Ricciardo is currently in P3. 
Jenson BUTTON: I mean, we should not be surprised. Daughter of Max Verstappen, a six time World Champion and Daniel Ricciardo, another World Champion. A lot of racing talent in that family, I thought the last of the late breakers was Daniel but she has really put a new meaning on late!
DC: And speaking of there is Max and Daniel Verstappen-Ricciardo, who I imagine are probably the most nervous parents in the paddock right now! A lovely nod and clap of encouragement as we watch the reaction of Matilda’s overtake for P3. 
matilda verstappen-ricciardo @/MVR 
if you’re wondering if it’s embarrassing to have your parents show up at work to congratulate you just wait till one of them interviews you in front of the tv…. thanks dad i’ve never felt so uncool before
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POST RACE: PARC FERME INTERVIEW
Daniel RICCIARDO: Matilda! 
Matilda VERSTAPPEN-RICCIARDO: Oh my god, please be cool about this. 
DR: Just wait till I convince F1 to let me and Max double host it. 
MVR: This is actually my worst nightmare. Like maybe three other people will understand what I’m feeling right now. 
DR: 
///
MVR: I mean I’m not worried about a legacy, if people think I’m here to start or continue a legacy then they can think that, but I’m here to race. Not carry on whatever my parents did. 
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jeannereames · 5 hours
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And Alexander Wept for Hephaistion....
If you don’t mind, I wanted to ask, you said something along the lines of: by the time Alexander was coming closer to his death, he had recovered from the grief of Hephaistion’s death (if I’m remembering this correctly; I’m so sorry I have a fuzzy memory) how long do you think he mourned Hephaistion?
------------------
This was an ask via message, so putting it here to reply publicly, as it may be of interest to others.
First, however, I want to mention a pair of articles I wrote many years ago now, but which are still valid:
“The Mourning of Alexander the Great,” Syllecta Classica 12 (2001), 98-145.
“Some New Thoughts on the Death of Alexander the Great,” with Eugene N. Borza (lead author), The Ancient World 31.1 (2000), 1-9. (I wrote the last 1/3 of it.)
The first, in particular, is an in-depth analysis of Alexander’s behavior after Hephaistion died. I’m still rather proud of it, as it brings together two quite diverse fields: bereavement + Alexander studies. If I had a critique for it now, it’s that I didn’t analyze the stories inherent in the primary sources, but that also wasn’t my intention in writing it. I specifically say that I do not plan to pick apart which reports of Alexander’s behavior are likely authentic and which aren’t. My goal was to evaluate all of them in terms of possible evidence of pathological bereavement, according to the (then) DSM III-R (et al.).
TL;DR version of the article: Alexander’s mourning was NORMAL and followed recognized patterns, if one allows for the loss of someone extremely close, a spouse/similar.
Yes, there were complicating factors. BUT he did not go crazy with grief.
Unfortunately, this article is far less known than the “An Atypical Affair” article on Alexander and Hephaistion’s relationship. That’s too bad, as the “His grieving was extreme!” persists among even some of my colleagues, never mind those outside the field of Macedoniasts. (It’s also admittedly possible that they were simply unconvinced by my arguments, but in that case, one usually cites and says so.)
If I could put a giant blinking neon light on one of my earlier articles to get it more attention, that would be the one I’d point to.
The second article—or my 1/3rd of it anyway—deals with the possible effects of deep mourning on the immune system of adult males of Alexander’s age group. Yes, according to some limited research, it does have an impact that increases susceptibility to infectious disease. Add his poor overall physical health after all those battles (and Macedonian-style symposial drinking), and he was just too spent to fight off the typhoid or malaria or whatever fever disease got him.
Ergo, he died roughly 8 months after Hephaistion. We don’t have a date for the latter’s death, but sometime in October or November of 324 BCE is the window. Alexander died June 10th, 323 … or possibly a day or so later if he were in a paralysis too deep for his breathing to be ascertained. (As per Gene’s part of the article.)
The dating is important, as it affects where he (probably) was in his mourning process.
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Mourning follows a somewhat predictable pattern, and one of the biggest mistakes made by those unfamiliar with human mourning is to underestimate (often by a lot) just how long mourning takes … even perfectly normal, healthy mourning.
For a major loss, main mourning takes up to a year. No joke. That’s why bereavement counselors try to keep the bereaved from making any permanent decisions within that year. They’re still very much being buffeted by the winds of grief, even if they want to pretend they aren’t. But even after the year anniversary—and marking it with some sort of formal ceremony helps!*—mourning continues off-and-on (sometimes really intense for a few hours or even a few days) for up to 5 years. Again, no joke. Some bereavement studies experts don’t really consider a person truly recovered (note I never say “over it”) for as long as 10 years.
Additionally, ANY deep loss triggers mourning; it doesn’t have to be death. A divorce will result in mourning, even if the people in the marriage wanted to divorce. It’s still a “death” of sorts. Moving some distance away, graduation, and retirement can all set off mourning. This surprises people, that mourning can attach even to “happy” circumstances. Anything that includes an ending will set off mourning, albeit it may not be that intense.
But THE #1 and #2 most devastating losses are the loss of a child and the loss of a spouse/spouse-like figure. Period.
So, a slight correction to the question, I didn’t say he’d recovered from his mourning, but that he was beginning to emerge from the deepest parts of mourning.
What do I mean by that? There are (roughly) 3(-4) major phases of mourning. The speed at which we pass through these varies, dependent on the type of death and our closeness to the deceased. (The first article goes into that in more depth.)
Shock phase, which is typically anywhere from a few days to about 2 weeks.
Deep mourning phase, where the bereaved must come to terms with the loss. The bereaved cycles through a series of stages (not the best term) and, more importantly, struggles with certain TASKS of mourning (as per Worden). Again, the length of this phase can vary, but for serious losses, it can take up to 8-9 months, with the worst of it usually hitting 3-6 months. There is an intense focus on the deceased and the bereaved person may want little to do with new people and vacillate between wanting to talk a lot about the deceased or wanting to give away all their stuff because it’s too painful. Anger, bargaining, depression, self-blame … all are typical of this phase. It’s INTENSE. It really does take months, and people routinely underestimate it.
Re-emergent phase, where the bereaved begins to take an interest again in the external world, may make new friends and new plans that don’t involve the deceased. The deceased is far, far from forgotten, but the bereaved is learning to live without the dead person.
Continued bereavement would be a fourth phase past the one-year anniversary, where the bereaved will still experience grief, sometimes very intense when triggered by a particular memory, a birthday, or anniversaries. But the overall “worst” part of mourning is past.
Finally, especially in the deepest part of mourning, the depression felt by the bereaved is on par with clinical depression, but (except for rare cases) the bereaved absolutely should not take or be prescribed antidepressants as these interrupt the mourning process.
Yes, it hurts like hell but one can only go through, not over, around, or under. Through.
In some cases, however, bereavement becomes “complicated,” resulting in what’s referred to as pathological bereavement, by which I mean only not normal (I wouldn’t even say abnormal). Sudden death (as with Hephaistion) IS one factor that can complicate mourning, but it doesn’t necessarily lead to full-blown pathological grief. In the article, I evaluate all Alexander’s listed behaviors and explain why my final conclusion is that his bereavement was sharp, but not pathological.
Alexander’s behavior in the last few months showed aspects of the third phase. He was planning (or probably returning to planning) his next campaign and thinking about improvements to the city of Babylon apparently with the intention of making it his eastern capital. Yes, he was also planning Hephaistion’s funeral, but the other two things were new and show re-engagement.
So Alexander’s mourning had not ended before he died himself, only shifted. Even if he’d lived another 5 years, he’d still have experienced bereavement off and on.
Remember, grieving takes TIME. More time than you expect.
If you know someone going through grief, especially for a family member, beloved, or very close friend … give them space. Let them cry. Encourage them to talk about the lost person if they want to, but don’t force it if they don’t want to. Don’t argue with their theology/beliefs about death or their gallows humor, but also don’t shove your theology/beliefs about death, or your gallows humor, onto them. Read the room.
MOST OF ALL, JUST BE PRESENT. It matters less what you say than that you’re there. They may not even remember what you say later; they will remember you showed up.
—————-
* In fact, world cultures that have traditional, one-year anniversary ceremonies routinely show better outcomes for mourning individuals.
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calmbigdipper · 2 months
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What you mean to me
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secondbeatsongs · 11 months
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iCarly Meta, Part 5: Socko, Nominative Determinism, and How I Spend My Free Time
so, you may remember that I've made four separate iCarly posts before, because I am just way too into this dorky, ridiculous children's show.
well, over a year ago, I wrote this fifth one. and after some introspection, some really deep self-evaluation about what I want and where I'm going in life, I've decided that it's time to share it with the world at large
so...let's talk about Socko's family!
to catch you up: Socko is Spencer's best friend, who designs all of the fun socks that Spencer wears! he's first mentioned in s01e07 (iScream on Halloween), though some of his socks are shown as early as s01e02 (iWant More Viewers).
(technical note: production-wise, s01e09 is listed before s01e07, and I think that was intended to be Socko's introduction, and it would make sense, considering how Spencer describes him in that ep. but I can't prove this, and so we move on.)
while Socko is mentioned consistently throughout the show, he's never fully shown on screen. but, he does technically appear in an episode, because you can see part of his arm in s04e11-s04e13 (iParty with Victorious) when he hands Spencer the keys to his van.
Spencer and Socko have known each other since at least 1999 (as mentioned in s02e12, iRocked the Vote) when Spencer would have been 17 or 18. and despite Socko almost never being shown, it's clear that he spends a lot of time with Spencer, and that they're close. if Spencer needs something, Socko is always willing to call in a favor from one of his family members.
and boy, does Socko have a lot of very interesting family members.
let's go over some of them real quick:
Bernie is a welder, Otto is a used car salesman, Tyler designs neckties, Taylor is a tailor, Rob is a thief, Arty is an artist, Isaac is an optometrist, and Ryder is a motorcycle enthusiast.
are we noticing a pattern here?
every single one of these is an aptronym – a personal name that is aptly or peculiarly suited to its owner. and since all of these people are in some way related, this is fascinating to me.
it seems like Socko's family is really into nominative determinism – the idea that people tend to gravitate towards areas of work that fit their names. whether or not this is true of people in real life is unclear, but in the universe of iCarly, this is something that Socko's family is all about.
when did it start, I wonder? who was the first in the family to have a job or hobby that related directly to their name? and who continued that pattern? because someone named Bernard going by "Bernie" and taking up welding is one thing, but an entire family of people going into fields that have to do with their names is unsettling.
is this on purpose, now? do the parents in Socko's family choose names for their children based on what they want them to be? is there an expectation that each child will have to choose a profession based on what their parents name them?
I think there is. and I think it's fucked up.
imagine growing up knowing that your name would control your future career options. that no matter how you felt about your name, choosing a career or hobby that matched it is what would make your parents happy. that at least some portion of your parents' love is tied to the idea that you will be what they named you.
and depending on the name, the kids aren't always left with a lot of options! someone named Bernie could be a welder, a woodburning artist, a firefighter, etc...but for Taylor, there's really only one path to take.
what if a kid is trans? I just have to wonder, would they be judged more for not identifying with their assigned sex at birth, or for changing their name?
and one of Socko's cousins is named Mary. think about that with me for a second – Mary.
imagine that the only dream your parents have for you is that you get married. and not just fall in love! no, you were given this name because their express purpose, their biggest hope for you is that you get legally married.
what if Mary had been gay? what if she grew up with fear in her heart, knowing that the only thing her parents had ever wanted from her wasn't possible, was actually illegal, because of who she was?
or what if she had been aro, or ace, or just otherwise not interested in relationships? or what if she was interested in relationships, but not the serious, legal commitment of marriage?
my hope here (my one fragile hope) is that Rob, Mary, and Josh are siblings, and that their parents were trying to escape this part of the family legacy. maybe they named their kids Robert, Marian, and Joshua, and tried to steer clear of any obvious career choices – but then their sons started going by "Josh" and "Rob" and causing trouble, and "Mary" started talking about her upcoming wedding, and they knew that they would never be free of the family curse.
'cause it's gotta be a curse, right? I feel like at this point, it has to be.
but hey, worry not! because I think there are some loopholes.
Penny, for example, had a lot of choices – she could have minted coins, or built fences, or designed ball-point pens, or been a cashier (etc, etc). but she didn't do any of those things! she started a t-shirt company, and made shirts with fun phrases on them like "church pants" and "parole baby" and "chest words" (all shirts I would wear for real).
her job didn't have anything to do with her name – but she still followed the family pattern. she named her t-shirt company "Penny-Tees", and sewed a single penny into each of her shirts. instead of finding a name-based occupation, she made her own.
I really think it's brilliant – she got to do what she wanted, and her parents couldn't complain, because it still suited her name! and if this pattern is curse-based, she found a way around it by following it to the letter (but not exactly the spirit), and because of this, she got to make her own choices.
and speaking of jobs that may or may not suit one's name: let's talk about Socko.
early in the show when we're introduced to him, we know three things about him:
he knows where to find huge pumpkins
he sells Spencer all of his wacky socks
his name is Socko
but, thinking about that third point…is it?
like, is his name actually Socko?
let's look at Socko's family tree for a moment:
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(yes, I made this. it took over two days. I skimmed through many episodes, looked through a large amount of the old iCarly website on the Wayback Machine, and as far as I know, this is canon accurate.)
(shhh, this was absolutely a valuable use of my time. don't worry about it.)
look at his family. look at the names.
almost all of them are, well…normal names. names that could belong to any acquaintance, friend, or relative in your own everyday life.
the only real exceptions here are Freight Dog, Boomer, and Dr. Paxil – but if we're being real? "Freight Dog" is almost definitely a nickname, "Paxil" isn't that strange-sounding of a surname, and I have actually seen people named "Boomer".
so that just leaves…Socko.
"Socko" is not a people name. it sounds mean, but I don't know how else to word that – it's just not a name for a human person.
it would be a great name for a cat or a dog (especially if they had paws that were a different color from their body – man, that'd be so cute!), but it is not a name that many parents would willingly give to a human child. especially when all of the other siblings in the family have relatively normal names.
my theory, my hottest take: I don't think "Socko" is his legal name.
think about it: Socko and every single one of his siblings went into the fashion industry. even accounting for the fact that they probably wanted Penny to have a different career, would Socko's parents really want all three of their other children going into the same industry, especially one as tumultuous and challenging as fashion design?
I think not. I think they gave Socko a different name, one that they believed would lead him down a completely distinct career path. and then, like Penny, Socko found his own true calling – but instead of changing his occupation to match his name? he changed his name to match his occupation.
it is my belief that Socko's birth name…the name his parents gave him…
(drumroll please)
…was "Socrates".
now hold on, just stay with me here. because I swear that this does make sense, really!
so, back at the beginning of this post I mentioned nominative determinism, but that term wasn't actually used until 1994. before then, it was called "onomastic determinism" or "die verpflichtung des namens" ("the obligation of the name"), but it wasn't really…a thing? it wasn't something that people really studied, and when they did, nobody could seem to come to a solid conclusion about whether or not your name does actually influence your career choice.
I think that in some way, Socko's parents wanted an answer. they wanted an explanation as to why their family tree reads like a joke book. and by naming their kid "Socrates", they were sending that question out into the world, hoping for a response.
because there were really two options here – either Socko would grow up to be a philosopher, someone who could search for meaning in the pattern of family job-finding, or he wouldn't. and if he didn't, if he threw off the shackles of his name and did something else entirely, then that in itself would be an answer.
and sure, maybe his parents should have thought about how "Socrates" might be abbreviated. maybe they should have considered that he could grow up to design socks. but hindsight is 20/20, and I don't know if that's something any parent would expect of their child, so I won't hold that against them.
I will however, judge them for naming two of their kids "Taylor" and "Tyler" – like, my god. can you imagine how often people got them mixed up? it's inhumane.
even worse if they were twins! though actually, that would make some kind of twisted sense – to give twins names that not only match, but that would lead them to careers in the same industry. maybe they wanted them to go into business together? hoo boy.
anyway, sorry, I've gone off-topic. back to Socko – or should I say, Socrates.
"Socrates" is a pretty fun name. two parts of it are σῶς (sôs, “safe and sound”) and κράτος (krátos, “power”), which is an interesting name meaning for a dude who was executed for corrupting the youth.
(I'm talking about the philosopher here – as far as I know, Socko from iCarly was not executed for corrupting the youth. at least, not yet.)
and if we keep thinking about Socrates (the philosopher), I think there's another reason that this name fits: we know fuck-all about Socrates.
sure, he's well-known – lots of people know about his ideas, and the Socratic method – but…he never actually wrote anything. everything we think we know about him, we learned from somebody else.
all of Socrates' interests, his skills, his beliefs? they were all things we learned from Plato, Xenophon, or (I guess) Aristophanes. we have no idea what the dude was actually like, outside of that.
just like we have no idea what Socko is like, outside of what Spencer says.
Socrates is a vital figure in the history of western philosophy, but all of the things we know about him are altered by the opinions of other people, filtered through the lenses of their perception.
and Socko is a vital character in the show iCarly, but all of the things we know about him – his hobbies, his opinions, his wants – are things we've heard second-hand from Spencer.
(you're laughing. Spencer Shay is a stand-in for Plato, and you're laughing.)
so in a very fun way, Socko (Socrates) did live up to his name…by being unknown to us, the audience.
us, watching this TV show the way chained prisoners watch shadows dance on the wall of a cave.
continuing down this rabbit hole…does this mean that one of the iCarly crew is Aristotle?
no…perhaps that's taking it too far.
(it'd be Gibby)
final notes:
I haven't seen all of the iCarly reboot yet (I'm on episode 3! I have mixed feelings, but I think one of the writers ships the thing that I ship, so that's fun), so if it mentions something about Socko lore, I unfortunately do not know about it.
fun fact: the ancient Greeks did often have names that were meant to have sway on their lives! for example: Hedistē ("most delightful"), Demotimos ("honored among the people"), Hippodamas ("horse-tamer"), Nikomachē ("victorious in battle").
additional fun fact: I asked one of the mods of the iCarly wiki, and they said I could put the family tree I made on the page for Socko's Family! :D
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look! it's my thing! the thing that I made! how cool is that?!
(I'll be real; I am way too proud of this)
yes, two of Socko's family members have inaptronyms instead of aptronyms: Harry (bald) and Jean (allergic to denim). but in my mind, they still count – the names are still weirdly suited to their specific lives.
since I'm pretty sure "Freight Dog" is a nickname, I also took a crack at what I think his legal name might be. my theory? "Aaron".
(get it? Aaron? because he's in the air? okay, I'll see myself out.)
anyway, my new hobby is coming up with more family members for Socko to have. descend with me into the deepest reaches of The Headcanon Zone, and behold:
Lisa: She's a landlord (she leases apartments). Socko hates her.
Barry: A big ol' bear of a man. Or he could work for Gund or Build-a-Bear or something. That could be fun!
Mike: Audio technician
Amy: Sharpshooter
Summer: Camp counselor
Tony: Orthopedist. (toe-knee)
Marty: Owns and operates a supermarket
and because it's fun, my friend @wonderbound joined in and came up with these super great ones:
Drew: Illustrator
Cody: Programmer or hacker
Pete: Bryologist (he studies moss!)
Norm: He's just a guy
Flo: Plumber – or maybe, an expert in fluid dynamics
Hattie: Milliner (she makes hats)
Howl: Werewolf (or perhaps, the owner of a moving castle 👀)
Will: Estate planning attorney (he writes wills)
anyway, I think that's about it. thanks for coming with me on this adventure! I hope it was as much of a rollercoaster to read as it was to write, because yeah, it was a weird one over here.
I mean, it started out normal? but then the next thing I knew, I had gotten invested, made nine edits to the iCarly wiki, and designed that whole family tree. so I think maybe I went a little overboard with this one. xD
tune in next time, for…I dunno. I think my brain needs a break after that. but, eventually I would love to write more meta! just…maybe not all for iCarly? I have some things to say about Gravity Falls that I think are gonna blow your minds.
(not really; I just think it's great)
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edeluarts · 6 months
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A little analysis of this part in the Odyssey:
Reading time: ~10 minutes
Book 23, The Great Rooted Bed, Fagles' tr-n There he sat, leaning against the great central column, eyes fixed on the ground, waiting, poised for whatever words his hardy wife might say when she caught sight of him. A long while she sat in silence … numbing wonder filled her heart as her eyes explored his face. One moment he seemed … Odysseus, to the life— the next, no, he was not the man she knew, a huddled mass of rags was all she saw.
“Oh mother,” Telemachus reproached her, “cruel mother, you with your hard heart! Why do you spurn my father so—why don’t you sit beside him, engage him, ask him questions? What other wife could have a spirit so unbending? Holding back from her husband, home at last for her after bearing twenty years of brutal struggle— your heart was always harder than a rock!” “My child,” Penelope, well-aware, explained, “I’m stunned with wonder, powerless. Cannot speak to him, ask him questions, look him in the eyes … But if he is truly Odysseus, home at last, make no mistake: we two will know each other, even better— we two have secret signs, known to us both but hidden from the world.”
Odysseus, long-enduring, broke into a smile and turned to his son with pointed, winging words: “Leave your mother here in the hall to test me as she will. She soon will know me better. Now because I am filthy, wear such grimy rags, she spurns me—your mother still can’t bring herself to believe I am her husband.<...>
Telemachus is a precious baby, we've established that.
But he does act a bit like a brat with Penelope a couple times. Of course I don't think that any of that is malicious or that he doesn't love her, but he's still being a bit of a brat.
They both suffered, their pain was similar, but also very different, their experiences and the way they processed it were different as well.
Moreover, at this moment Telemachus has already spent some time with Odysseus. They already had their meeting/reunion and they already cried it out (to an extent. I'm sure there's more crying they'll do afterwards). They even had a father-son bonding activity (a.k.a. the slaughter of the suitors). Telemachus got to know his father at least a little bit over the past couple of days and at this point he processed and accepted the idea of Odysseus being back.
Penelope, on the other hand, was told about it just a moment ago. She can't immediately go "oh, you're saying Odysseus is back? Wonderful, let me greet him", no. Odysseus wasn't away on a short hunting trip or something, he was away for two whole decades, half of that time he was pretty much thought to be dead by most people (the first half wasn't that much better, as he could've still died any time during the war, but at least he wasn't lost, Penelope knew where he was).
Now she needs time to wrap her head around what is happening. We even see her thoughts as she goes to meet Odysseus:
Penelope started down from her lofty room, her heart in turmoil, torn … should she keep her distance, probe her husband? Or rush up to the man at once and kiss his head and cling to both his hands?
She wants to reunite with him, she wants this to be true, but she can't be sure of anything now. They have been apar for longer than they knew each other. Does he still love her like he used to? Is he the man she loved? Is it even the real Odysseus in the first place? She needs to process everything, as well as confirm all the information herself, and Telemachus, at least at this moment, doesn't comprehend that. He's acting quite immature, scolding his mother for not immediately believing and accepting that Odysseus is back.
This is a very interesting detail. First it once again shows us that Telemachus still lacks a lot of maturity, despite having been on his coming of age trip. He's still very young.
Yes, he definitely grew a lot in that short time, but it would've been impossible for him to learn everything at once, he still has a lot of that immaturity left in him, there's still a lot of room to grow and that's completely understandable. We, as people, grow for our whole lives and Tele is doing remarkably well, especially considering his circumstances.
Another interesting thing about this part is that it shows Telemachus', perhaps a bit childish, impatience. He is a kid, who finally met his dad (and his biggest hero), he knows that his mother was suffering and grieving for pretty much his whole life (with things getting a lot worse over the past decade). From Telemachus' perspective Odysseus' return is supposed to solve all their problems, especially since their biggest problem, a.k.a. the suitors, was just taken care of and it wouldn't have happened without Odysseus.
Telemachus just wants a happy family. His dad is back and seems to love him, the suitors are gone, now his parents should reunite, his mother will stop grieving and everything will be perfect. This is something he dreamt of his whole life and it's finally so close, but his mother doesn't immediately believe him. She doesn't immediately accept Odysseus and Telemachus doesn't understand why. He is too preoccupied with wanting things finally to be okay, that he doesn't take time to think about what Penelope must be feeling. It doesn't even occur to him. Perhaps it's also partially the need to be believed and listened to, which is also something he lacked growing up around suitors and being treated as a child, but I'm not diving into that right now.
Odysseus, on the other hand, understands what's going on. He assures his son, that everything will be okay. He pretty much does a more adult version of "mom and dad will take care of this, you go play for a bit". Odysseus understands Penelope's reaction and goes from there. Of course he wants to be in her embrace as soon as possible, but considering everything she has been through, he definitely can't just suddenly grab her and do what he wants. This is his dearly beloved wife and he wants her to take on that role voluntarily, like she did before, he wants her to accept him as her dear husband, like she did before, and for that he has to let her do it at her own pace. He tries to meet her where she's at, to do this reunion on her terms, to assure her, that he is, who he says he is and who others tell her he is.
This is just so amazing and I love their relationship so much (T▿T)♡
I also love Penelope's reaction to Telemachus' words. She doesn't react negatively, she is remarkably calm and part of it is probably the shock from what's happening, but still, she is "well-aware". I think that she knows Telemachus really well, because even though he has surprised her with how much he matured, he's still the same boy, he's still her kid. She most likely understands where Telemachus' outburst is coming from and doesn't get angry, doesn't scold him for his impatience, she reassures him. She lets him know, that he doesn't need to be scared of things falling apart and that she isn't looking to reject Odysseus. She's looking for Odysseus and she hopes she can find him in that familiar and strange man before her. She just needs time, but she will be taking the effort to search for what she's looking for, now that she has a way (she wouldn't have been able to go searching for Odysseus at sea, but now he's, supposedly, right here and she will handle it like the queen that she is).
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kekaki-cupcakes · 2 months
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PJO RANT FOR THE ONE PERSON WHO ASKED :D
@seeking-further-illumination here you go, lol.
I think that the expectations of the show were for exactly what everyone wanted, because of Rick's involvement and the budget, but everyone imagined the books differently, so not everyone could ever be happy with it.
There's that, and it is marketed towards a younger audience and I'm not making any assumptions but most of the fans who aren't happy [from what I can see] are a bit older then the target audience [not that there's anything wrong with that, obviously, don't come at me], and if you re read the first book it's literally written for children.
There's literally backlash for everything ever made because for some reason people just can't chill [???] but I think the reason the Percy Jackson show had such a large amount of people unhappy with it is because we haven't had anything like it before. I don't know how to explain it but we've all created our own little versions of the show and made our own content for the fandom cause we were left to our devices for so long, so now that we have something, viewers already have these empires in their heads that they want to see on screen.
I'll just put it like this, if the show came out, like, a few years after the og book series, there would be less people unhappy with it.
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zarnzarn · 6 months
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crow, o crow, I ask you this small favour;
gorge on my body when I'm gone.
but I beg you, don't eat my eyes,
don't eat my eyes,
I yearn to see my beloved once more.
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nexttothelamp · 6 months
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...
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thewrongshop · 1 year
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believe it or not I'm officially in the editing stages of the final chapter of In a Lifetime a Long Time Ago, my post-mag200 somewhere else amnesia fic, so now would hypothetically be a great time to start reading it or to catch up!! The reviews are in and the #1 takeaway people have had so far seems to be emotional damage, so consider this a sales pitch:
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[ID: a collage of screenshots of text, mostly from ao3 comments. They read:
you.
what a fun and evil little concept >:)
mean and cruel. evil. unkind and unprovoked.
(caps) fuck. shit. ouhhhhggghhhhh <- enjoying it
[deflates like a popped balloon, all the while making the noise of a dog toy discarded and stepped on by accident]
[gestures at this entire fic] [WAILS]
i'm gonna sue you for emotional damages.
(caps) shut up shut up shut up
How dare you.
oh no / oh nooooooo
(caps) oh noooooo
you are bring charged with murder (mine)
i'm having fun. the time of my life in fact. what the hell
Christ, basically. Fuck.
The Wrong Shop? More like the uh cruel shop. The evil shop.
I can't believe jon got stabbed in the chest by martin and, immediately upon recovering from this, started having an Even Worse Time.
i have to lay down. goodbye
End ID]
anyway. pspspsps come read my fic I promise it won't stay this sad :)
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sysig · 8 months
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Those quick-jumps out of prison leave something to be desired... (P1 | P2 | P3) (Patreon)
#Doodles#Law Abiding Citizen#LAC#LAC Russ#Doug Peterson#It's funny 'cause the post that houses the tags that inspired this train of thought was not that long ago right?#But in real time it's been about a week and a half since I wrote those - which means I had a bit to stew on them before jumping in hehe#Russ in solitary appealed to me too much to just leave alone#Much like Doug to Russ! Lol#There's also something about drawing him in an orange uniform that's Something hmm ♪#I always feel like I set them down for just long enough to forget how to draw them lol#Well the idea wouldn't leave me alone no matter what so here they are anyhow! Haha#Honestly even to the point where I've considered doing a big write about it hm hmm ♫#But for as long as I'm toning them I'll be happy to show off my process doodles lol#They're too sparsely posted! Fix it!#It does feel indulgently dark but that also aligns with them and their whole Deal - they're rather flexible on that front :)#They can be silly and they can be serious! I am kind of ignoring timing-and-placement vis a vis who says what went lol#It's part of the indulgence hehe#Anyway! Lol#I feel like Russ would be pretty quickly shunted out of sight of everyone if any of his abilities stayed intact#''He keeps setting shit on fire - nobody can figure out how! He doesn't have a lighter!''#Bad behaviour! You're not going to be released quickly if you keep that up!#Just stick him in a box and don't worry about it anymore#Why doesn't Doug help him break out? Where's the fun if he starts as a criminal? Where's the challenge of corruption?#No it's just an excuse lol ♪ They both kinda just overlook Russ' time in prison in canon it would defeat the purpose to here#What new adventures will they get up to :3c
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Oh, how I forget myself.
I do not know the exact angle of my steps.
The way my fingers clutched is lost to me.
And as for the placement of my scars,
the memory is already fading.
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bysaber · 8 months
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weeping dragon
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pairing: neuvillette x fem!reader
summary: neuvillette thinks he isn’t deserving of your love.
content: cliche !!!, reader trapped in his house bc of rain, lil antsy but happy ending
wc: 800
a/n: mm hii!! first fic here! I hope you enjoy it I kind of wrote it in twenty minutes and I’m just publishing it without beta reading bc (we die like men) I’m just too in love with neuv and I want to share it with the world lolol
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Neuvillette couldn’t bring himself to even think about making a move.
He kept many secrets, and every time he faced your bright smile he would remember it was not his place to disturb your peace. After all, how could a young woman like you endure the dangerous claws of a dragon?
You had stopped by his house to discuss the latest trial and his emotions got the best of him, causing a rain to start pouring.
A storm was approaching; lighting was seen through the window and low thunders could be heard. Neuvillette plagued himself under his breath, hoping there would be a day where he could better control his feelings.
“Here,” he said as he handed you the cup of tea. You watched the lighting curiously, “I do not think the storm will pass for a few hours. You should stay. For the night, I mean.”
You took the cup of tea and averted your eyes from the window to Neuvillette’s face. You studied him with caution, as if it was the first time you ever saw the man — even though you worked together for many months.
“Are you okay?” you asked, ignoring completely his offer.
The words got stuck in his throat and, for a few seconds, he really thought he wouldn’t answer. The man sipped on his tea, his mind racing while trying to figure out why you would ask that all of the sudden. “May I ask why are you asking me such a question?”
It was a small gesture, but he saw it all the same; the way you flexed your hand. There was something you wanted to grab?
Something you wanted to hold?
“They say… It rains when the Hydro Dragon weeps. Yeah, that's what they say,” you murmured and once again looked out the window. To the storm. “The Hydro Dragon. That would be you, right?”
Neuvillette almost choked on his tea, every part of his body malfunctioning and leaving him with only one thing for sure: in his entire existence, this was the first time he was left completely and utterly speechless.
Your warm and comforting eyes turned to him, and you grabbed his cup of tea to put it alongside yours on the coffee table. “Neuvillette,” you spoke his name as if it was a piece of poetry you were yet to learn — eager to do so, “Talk to me.”
And then— your hands, so small and fragile if compared to his, touched him. Your fingers traced his, and you embraced his hand between yours. He could feel the warmth of your skin contrasting against his cold one, pulling him closer, closer, closer.
“When did you figure it out?” was the first thing he said, scared it may be recent. If so, there still is time for you to run, for you to escape. To turn your back and never see him again. It’s probably the best for you, he knows, but this little selfish part in him can’t stand the thought of seeing you gone.
“A month ago or so, it doesn't matter,” you’re quick to cut the subject. “I didn't mention it because I knew you didn't want me to. I’m just worried, that's all.”
Worried.
She is worried.
The realization clicks in Neuvillette’s mind, for the first time in so long acknowledging that maybe, just maybe, he was too, deserving of someone’s concern and care.
“You are saying it does not matter,” he repeats as if to confirm what he just heard.
I pushed you because I cared about you. I pushed you because you made me feel good and comfortable. I pushed you because I thought my true self would frighten you.
Yet, you’re here. And you’re telling me it doesn’t matter.
“It doesn’t. Never did,” you frown. “I just wanna know, no— I need to know why it is raining, Neuvillette. Why would you weep? I’m here with you, talk to me.”
Without giving it a second thought, Neuvillette’s right hand finds your lower back and in a split second you're pressed against his chest, the tightest hug you have ever been given. He’s much taller than you, and you can feel perfectly as he inhales your scent and hugs you tightly.
“Neuv—”
“I thought I had to restrain myself from you. I thought I was no good,” he finally speaks his mind, distancing himself enough for you to see his face; the weeping Dragon. Oh, the melancholy in his eyes.
The eyes of someone who almost lost something precious.
“Neuvillette,” you whispered. “There’s nothing better for me than you.”
And it was true; so you pulled on his hair just enough to have him connecting your lips, a sigh of relief escaping him as if there was nothing in this world he had anticipated more.
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mysicklove · 6 months
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𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆
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DAY 14: LEG HUMPING
With: Ryomen Sukuna
Word Count: 4.4k (wow)
Warnings: Sub! Sukuna, Gn! Reader, Yuuji and reader r dating (Yuuji x reader), lots of threatening of death/small violent acts,, reader slaps him, sukuna has 2 cocks in his true form, heavy power dynamics, mention of subspace, previous cuffing, small mounts of blood
A/N: i feel like i wrote this while i was high, but i was sober. idk. this is unedited but i will edit it tomorrow morning
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“I fucking hate you, you know that? Despise every cell of your body.”
You hold back a laugh, running your fingers through his hair, which earns another near animalistic growl. “Well aren't you dramatic, King of Curses. Where did my Yuuji go?”
Sukuna glares up at you, lips curling upward. He was kneeling, with his hands chained behind his back, while you sit on a chair, crossed legged. He was in the position Yuuji was in seconds ago. The position that Yuuji asked to be put in. Sukuna, obviously did not agree to this arrangement.
Yuuji must have lost control when he sank into the subspace. Just for a second, which was all the curse needed to arise. He was watching the entire time, snickering when Yuujis begs got too dramatic, or joining in on the unwelcomed degradation when the boy started to cry. 
But the only time the king was silent was when you spoke. He would conjur himself on Yuujis arm, face, hand, and just listen.
His vessel was a pervert, really, and you were too. He watched the boy go through the most humiliating things, and still he would always end up begging for more. The curse would rather die than to steep as low as Yuuji did. It was pathetic, truly. 
But sometimes, when Sukuna sticks around for too long, he finds himself hypnotized by your voice. It was always so soft with Yuuji, full of adoration, but he could not miss the authority that oozed from your tone. Strict rules that were meant to be followed, commands that were not dared questioned, and punishments that were no empty threats. He was there when Yuuji was also punished, in those rare times. They were not fun, even if the brat held a raging hard on through it all.
But overall, Sukuna was strangely enamored by your character. He was always top dog, the strongest, the king of curses, but what about you sends a shiver down his spine? Why does he want to hear your doting words? Not to Yuuji, but to him. 
Sukuna realized not long after having these thoughts that he wants to fuck you. Or maybe just get a handjob while you whisper lewd things in his ear, the way you did to the brat. Or maybe you'll wrap your lips around his dick if he was to play nice for a bit. 
It will be just a one time thing. Just so he knows for sure that he doesnt want you. Yuujis thoughts of you must be clouding his. Tonight he was here to confirm.
“Brats gone. You’ve broke him or something. Humans do that,” Sukuna pipes up, rolling his eyes, and glancing back at the cuffs he has on. He rips them off without hesitation, sending the metal falling to the ground.
Sukuna was lying. Yuuji barely was dipping into the subspace, and you know his limits well enough. Sukuna was out because he wants to be out with you. But alas, you want to see how far this will go, so you continue to play with him. A fake pout covers your face and you sigh. “Those were Yuujis favorite cuffs, was that necessary?” Not a lie. 
Sukuna dramatically stretches his hands out, cracking his knuckles and rolling his shoulders. He still remains on his knees. “Annoying things. Not like they would work on me.”
“Yeah, because they weren't for you.”
He stares at you, flashing his teeth. “He could have broken out of them too.”
“But he wouldn't have. He is good.” Your foot presses on his thigh, where it was previously resting, and Sukuna raises an eyebrow at you. You were into this, he could tell. 
But he wasnt going to let you know, that he was also strangely intrigued as to what was going on right here. So, he rolls his eyes, and shifts under your foot, but doesn't move completely. “Doesnt fucking matter. Whatever. Brats pathetic.”
“He’s not. Dont be an ass,” You sigh, leaning back into your chair, and cracking a smile at the ceiling while you think about the scene that is about to unfold. Never would you have thought he would be coming to you. You always had small fantasies of fucking Sukuna, but you would never act on them, frankly because you knew that the curse wasnt interested. He was the one to nearly spit on the two of you during these times. But now, the cards were in his hands.
Sukuna’s hands creep onto your lower leg, and you try your best to ignore it. His nails gently scratch over your skin, and you dont dare to move. Instead, you let out a dramatic breath, and then press onto his thigh again. “Now what do I do…” You, very obviously, prompt, and Sukuna wants to roll his eyes.
“You want me to fuck you, that right?” He in turn teases, seeing if you will take the bait. The both of you are teetering on ice, waiting for eachothers next move.
To this, you lean forward, resting your arms on your knees so that you are face to face with the curse. He doesn't even flinch, just stares with an amused expression, while your fingers trail along his jaw. “But thats not what you want, is it?” You purr, face nearly inches from his. “And besides…Thought you hated me?”
He grins at you, smile borderline predatory. “I do. You make my vessel do disgusting things.”
“You watch us a lot, don't you Sukuna?”
He falters for a second, and then suddenly he feels your foot moves from his thigh, and toward his boxers. Yuuji was only wearing his black briefs when he was sent to Sukuna's domain. “Do you get off to it?”
The familiar glare replaces the smile, and his nails dig into your skin, harsh in warning, but not enough to draw blood. “As if. You two make me sick. You are corrupting the brat. You're disgusting.”
He can tell he is beginning to tick you off, but he does not mind, especially the way your foot slowly begins to press down on his cock. “Then why are you here Sukuna?”
“To fuck you,” He quips, rolling his eyes as if it was the obvious – he did already tell you this. The hand on your leg doesn't let up, and he hitches a breath when you step almost uncomfortably hard on him. A shiver runs down his spine, and he loathes the fact that maybe he is getting off to this.
“And why would I allow you to?”
But alas, his pride would never let up. “Allow me to? You think you can tell me what to do all of the sudden. I could kill you in a heartbeat.”
You roll your eyes at his bared teeth and the narrowed red eyes that are looking up toward you. “You are the one kneeling before me.” 
He doesn't move from his position and the two of you stare in silence. You restrain from voicing your approval, not wanting to piss the already tempermental curse off. 
Sukuna sighs and taps on the skin of your leg, signalling you to continue. “Get on with it. I want to see how gross your desires can be.”
“Will you be good for me and listen?”
“Is that what the boy does?”
You cock your head to the side, fighting the urge to furrow your eyebrows at him. “Yuuji? You know the answer to that question, you voyeur.”
The curse pinches at his brow, obviously peeved by your statement, and you cant help but giggle lightly at hin. “Not a voyeur. Just want…Whatever. Now for fucks sake, do something. Yes, yes I'll listen, do you want me to bark or some shit? I am not as pathetic and moldable as your other toy.”
The slap comes quick, sending a stinging sensation to his cheek, and Sukunas eyes nearly pop out of his head. He slowly brings his hands up to his face, touching the now pinkened skin, before turning to you. He didnt even have time to process it, or get angry about it, before you spoke. "Enough with the insults to Yuuji. Are you looking for some sort of attention?”
“Fuc-”
Another slap directly to the same spot, and Sukuna knows this time that he could have blocked it. You were a human, your attacks were slow, weak. But he didnt block. He let you do this. He was going mad, he had to be. 
His face stings, and your hand comes forward to grip at his jaw. He tries to hide a wince, but you watch him clench his teeth together. “Are you done?”
He had two choices in the matter. One to keep, willingly, Sukuna notes with much hesitancy, get slapped around, or he can get his dick possibly wet. He came for the latter, and so he will abide, even if it damaged his pride. He looks away, and that is the best answer you'll get. “Good. Well that was easy. Does your face hurt?”
Sukuna barks a laugh, and you raise your eyebrows. “Do you have any perception of how weak you are?”
You raise your hand up immediately to strike, and the curse flinches, preparing for what was to come next. But you just keep your hand there, eyes widening in glee, while Sukuna borderline growls. He doesn't say anything though, so you lower your hand, and rest it on his head. The act causes his whole body goes rigid, but he continues to remain silent.
“I want you to put your hands behind your back.” Your first command toward him, and Sukuna, as embarrassing as it is, feels his heart begin to pound. His mouth goes dry, and he slowly releases them from your leg and slides them behind him, his wrists crossing over. 
A playful smile pulls at your lips, and you lean over to him, ruffling up his hair as if he was some sort of dog to be pet. “Good little curse!”
Sukuna's heart pounds in his chest, and he begins to grow restless. His cock throbbed pathetically at the words, and he was embarrassed to admit that the praise felt nice. Different than the deranged pleasure he felt from the slap, and the harsh tone, but….Good overall. He nods with a scoff. “Yeah, yeah. Can you fucking hurry up.”
His hips gently buck into the pad of your sock, and you try your best to stay calm. He was liking it, all of it was so weird, but endearing, so you didnt move to stop him. “Are you getting frustrated, ‘kuna?”
The nickname has him catching his breath, and shifting on the pads of feet. The tone of your voice was sickenly sweet, and if he allowed himself to, Sukuna could melt into it. He tries to hold some of his dignity. “N-No,” He stutters out, and then curses under his breathe of how stupid he must sound. He quickly recuperates himself. “What do you want from me, you sick fuck?”
“Anything I want?”
“Don't hold your breath.”
You slowly remove your foot from his crotch, and the curse bites his tongue to hold back a complaint. He watches your eyes travel to the ceiling, lost in thought, before you turn back to him with a small grin. “Take your boxers off, and then put your hands back where they were. Exactly where they were.”
Sukuna was not shy, and neither were you, so he is quick to remove the article of clothing. Though of course this was Sukuna, so it was unnecessarily dramatic. He slices the thin fabric open with a single nail, and then throws the useless cloth away. Then he sighs when he looks down. “Of course the brat is small.”
Yuuji was many things, but small was definitely not one of them. He is well over the average size, and it was borderline intimidating. If Sukuna was calling Yuuji small then you didnt even want to know what the curse was carrying. “Small compared to your inhuman-freakish cock?”
“-s”
Your furrow you eyebrows and hum in question.
Sukunas grin is cocky, his body reeking of arrogance, even if he was the one kneeling. “You forgot the “s”. Cocks. Plural.”
Your face controrts to first shock, fear, and then finally lands on distain. “That's disgusting.”
“You say that now but when you are drooling on them later–” Another slap across the face, and Sukuna actually didn't see this one coming. It stuns him speechless for a moment, but then he shivers, cupping his cheek with one of his hands. His eyes flicker to you, but they don't hold any disdain in them – he simply just watches, curious of your next move.
He fails to notice the glob of precum that falls onto the floor after the slap. “Ah, are you leaking Sukuna? Does getting hit turn you on?”
It may be the pain, or may be the psychological aspect of it all. If he says something wrong, he gets punished, and for some reason or another, that drives him insane with desire. He gulps, taking a deep breath to regain his composure. “Of course not. I am not the pervert here.”
“But I bet I could make you do some perverted things.”
His cock, as humiliating as it is, likes the sound of that. It noticeably twitches, and he hopes that more pre doesn't slip out before starting anything. His hands shift from behind his back, but he doesnt dare to move them. “Yeah? How far does your twisted mind go?”
“Far. But I dont want to scare you off too badly tonight,” You sigh, leaning back comfortably in your chair. Sukuna holds off a growl, peeved at how you worded the statement. “Guess you can just hump my leg.”
He laughs, loud and proudly, but your smile withstands. You rest your cheek on your palm, and you wait for the booming laugh to die down. It does, not after long, and slowly when he realizes that you arent joking, the curse glares as you. “Oh fuck off. I told you I am not to be your dog.”
You sigh, and stand up from your chair. “Guess we will end here for the night then. Send Yuuji back when he is well rested.”
A clawed hand wraps around your leg, and Sukuna bares his teeth at you. “Fine. I'll do it. Would you stop being so dramatic?” He gets out through clenched teeth.
You nod and sit back down in your chair, kicking your leg out. Sukuna eyes it, as if unsure of what to do. “Mount it,” You encourage, shaking your limb ever so gently.
“I know how to, you fucking idiot,” He bites, and then slowly uses his knees to push himself forward. His red eyes lock onto yours, and he stares at you the entire time as he straddles you. Your foot rests beneath his body, and his cock barely grazes your lower knee. One hand rests on the back of your leg for security, and the other onto the edge of your chair.
You gulp, and move your leg upward, pinning his cock in between his stomach and the skin of your leg. The curse doesnt dare to move, and he holds a wince when he glances at the glob that drips from his tip and smears onto your leg. A token sign that he is unbelievably turned on. “Drooling over me already? I'm flattered.”
He narrows his eyes at you. “Bite your tongue before I rip it off.” 
You don't even flinch at the threat, instead applying more force upward, making the curse curl inward on himself as he tries to lift his hips upward, away from the foot. “Get on with it,” You command, leaving no room for complaints. 
His eyes flicker toward you when he hears the strictness in your tone, and he blinks when you glare at him. He gulps, ignoring the pleasant shiver that runs down his spine. But he doesn't dwell on it, because you lower your leg again, and he is free to move. His hands feel strangely shaky, but he hides it well, not wanting to know how much power, Sukuna is discovering quickly, you have over him. 
He lines his cock to the middle of your leg, and thrusts forward without much hesitancy. The skin is soft, and it glides over with little resistance, and Sukuna’s eyes are glued to the spot. 
Its strange, not as pleasurable like all the previous women he has fucked, nor a warm throat, but for some reason or another, it sends his head spinning.
His hips retreat, and they push themselves upward against the plush of your leg. Eventually he falls into a steady motion, entranced by his actions. It's pathetic, and gross, but why did it feel so good? A leg shouldnt be pleasurable –  it doesnt wrap around his cock like he wants it to, but it is strangely addicting. 
He realizes quickly why it feels that way – Sukuna is no idiot. He likes the psychological part behind it. He likes that he is kneeling for you, and getting off to something so measly as this. It makes him feel gross compared to you – nothing more than skum, and you, must be some sort of god. It turns him on so much he can barely stand it.
His head falls forward, and it taps onto your thigh. His whole body seems to tremble, and the timing of his thrusts seems to pick up – they are quicker, frantic, and his cock nearly slides off more than it should. 
Your fingers fall to his head, and this time he doesnt move, in fact he seems to melt into the touch. This was weird, and you were both intrigued, and slightly scared. “You really seem to be liking this, huh?”
He doesn't respond for a long second, maneuvering his fingers to hold onto the back of your  leg with his thumbs left in front of the limp. It provides a makeshift “O” and finally the curse feels like he is actually fucking something, rather than just grinding. “There ya go,” He mumbles to himself, as if lost in a trance. His cock slides itself between your leg and his thumbs, and its driving him insane.
When he doesnt respond, you tug backward on his hair, forcing him to look up at you. To your surprise, he doesnt glare at you, nor let out a biting remark; instead, the curse moans. Its low, and holds a sort of vibration to it, but definitely there. “Oh you fucking freak.”
He lets out a lazy grin, neck uncomfortably craned upward. You watch the way he licks at his teeth, and he breathes out, “More.”
You press your leg deeper into him, and Sukuna in response lets out another gutteral moan, except this one holds a whine to it. The sound travels straight to your groin, and you sit up in your chair, eyes slightly widening. “What changed, king? Dont tell me your getting off to grinding against a mere human peasant like me?”
He lets out a small, breahthless laugh, but doesnt dare stop his motions. “Just this once. Just this once let me, and th-then I swear you are dead.”
Your leg is glistening in some small areas, from when he leaked and spread it into the skin with his tip. He stares at your face the entirety of it, even when you look away to glance at his cock. “But ‘kuna, whose leg will you frot against if you kill me? Aw dont tell me, youll find another to cling to. Y’know I am the only one who can take care of you.”
You drop his head and he goes back to resting his forehead on your knee. His pants are warm against your leg, and you feel him shake his head.
You are right of course. He would never dare show another this side of him to another. He doesnt want to either, even if he never would admit it outloud. “J-Just stop it. Please.”
Please was not in the king of curses vocabulary. Your eyes widen with glee. “How much do you like it? Tell me, does my leg feel good?”
“Does. Fuck. Fuck, I hate you. I hate you.” He nods his head into your leg, hiding his face. His body turns a shade similar to his hair, and it begins to glisten with sweat from his movements. He lets out small breathless moans, and stares at the tip moving up and down the fake color.
His body seems to curl around you your limb, as if trying to trap it in his hold. His lips, much to your surprise, press themselves to your knee and you can hear the smallest chant.  “Love it. ‘S mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.”
You raise your eyebrows at the deranged, borderline creepy words.  “So you hate me, but love my leg? Don't tell me you got some strange fetish.”
You feel his canines hover over the space just above your knee, a small warning from the curse. You blink at him, surprised by the small resistance, but dont do much. He licks at the flesh a second later, and pulls away. You have to bite back a laugh.
His hands by this point have dropped, and are instead clawing at your chair. He doesnt need them anymore, considering that he is so close to you that that his stomach and your leg are stimulating him on both sides.
“Fuck. I'm close,” Sukuna mumbles into your skin, pressing himself impossibly closer. You wish you had your phone to take a picture – he was basically cradling your leg as if it was some sort of prized possession.
“Are you asking me for permission?”
“N-No. ‘m not. Can I?” He paws at your thighs, nails threatening to dig into your skin. Of course he would never, at least not in this meager state.
“No.”
He bares his teeth at you and glares, but his eyes convey his true feeling: panicked. His pace doesn't slow though, and your leg is now sticky from the amount of precum lost. “I-Im going to whether you like it or not. Fuck. Fuck you. I hate you. Ngh, can you just–just agree!”
His mouth is back onto your knee, sending it sloppy kisses, and small bites. His tip is pulsing red, and it begins to throb. His legs were beginning to tremble, and he tries to focus on not cumming. For some unknown reason, Sukuna wants you to allow him to.
“But you were a brat all day? Boys who threaten death, dont deserve certain privileges,” You hum, and then run your fingers through his hair. “But I am a mere human, and you the king of curses. Why would you listen to my commands?” 
Sukuna bites his lip, immediately tearing blood. It dribbles down his chin, but he is quick to wipe it off, and reheal himself. His brows furrow and he scowls at the floor. The only noises let out are the grunts of his movements, and the moans that seem to get higher in pitch with each coming second. 
He is lost in thought. The curse doesnt understand why he wants permission, but he needs it. He cant cum without it, it was bound to dissapoint you if he did. The thought leaves a sour taste in his mouth, and finally, the pathetic words that he has been thinking this entire night come spilling out. “Cause I want you to! Command me, give me orders, do something to me. J-Just I–fuck! I need it!” 
“Why?”
He was growing frustrated and more panicked as the seconds go by. He was moments from cumming. “Because I–I ngh–Want to please you! Would you just fucking…” He warbles, praying that tears don't come. “Let me cum. I beg you. Let me. I'll do anything.”
Your heart pounds in your chest, and blood flows to your crotch. His watery eyes blink up at you, and he continues to rut against you, like some sort of dog. But thats what he is, or seems to want to be. So, you cock your head to the side, and provide him with a lazy grin. “Go ahead, Fido.”
His red eyes seem to light up at the approval, and he nods to himself as if bewildered by your agreement. But, he does follow through with the plea, and suddenly he is cumming. His whole body trembles, and he holds onto your leg with such force that you have to slide your hands on to of his, in a slight warning to be gentle. Cum shoots out onto your leg, but you can barely see it, considering his body has caved in on himself. He continues to rub himself out even through it all, as he pants into your knee. The curse wears a lazy grin through it all, and lets out small high in pitch moans. 
He collapses backward, landing on his ass and panting to catch his breath. You glance away for a second, at most two, to look at the cum stained on your leg. A chuckle falls from your lips. 
When Sukuna recovers, he goes straight back to scowling at you. In a heartbeat, he stands over you, borderline growling at you. His nails dig into your shoulders, and your eyes widen at the quickness of it all. Then he leans forward, a near inch away from your ear he whispers, “Don't get your hopes up. This will never happen again. Do you hear me?”
His nail presses uncomfortably hard into your skin, and so you are forced to nod. And with that your vision goes black.
For the next two weeks, Sukuna doesnt conjure up on Yuujis body anytime you are around. You dont mind it too much – it did save you from bickering with the arrogant prick. But to be honest, you were a little disappointed, having call his bluff. 
You werent disappointed for long.
Low and behold, two weeks later from the incident, you find yourself faced to face with the King of Curses, who was already kneeling before you. 
He glares at you, teeth on full display, as if he didnt realize what position he has put you guys in. “If you mention this to anyone, I will tear you to shreds.” Is all that he says.
But you arent too picky. So you grin, and hold your leg out.
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userlando · 1 month
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lending a hand — lando norris
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lando norris x fem!reader [5.5k] summary: exams are coming up and studying for it turns out to be more tedious than usual. luckily, lando is around & more than eager to lend a helping hand. warnings: 18+ fingering, dirty talk, protected sex (piv), brief oral, doggy, missionary, dom!lando, derogatory name calling, choking, slapping (lando smacks a tit and ass lol), everything is absolutely consensual a/n: HI EVERYONE!! i know it's been agesss since i came on here and i'm still kind of on a hiatus because i just haven't been feeling tumblr lately. i wrote this piece a while back for another cc but they've since then showed themselves to be a bad person and i don't wanna be associated with that. so i rewrote and added some things because i really like this one. so hopefully you do too :') i love u and miss u all so much, i'll hopefully jump back on when i've got my mojo back!! read before interacting: I suck at biology and googled every single medical term and everything it’s got to do with it. i’m so sorry if i wrote something incorrectly, please don’t come for me. thank you x
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The air was stifling hot and damp, your fingers were cramping up and the words on your textbooks were starting to blur into one big mess the longer you stared at them. There were so many books laid out in front of you, pictures of cartooned organs and human anatomy that on any other day, would be of massive help. But right now they just made your head hurt even more.
When your fingers cramped up for the fourth time, you let go of your pencil and watched it land softly on the sheets in front of you. You were in serious need of a massage, tension rippling in your body that would only perish once your final exams were over and done with. It wasn’t long until you took them, two weeks to be exact but the stress was weighing heavier on you than you’d like to admit.
The only thing pushing you forward was the fact that you’d be one step closer to graduating and the promised deep massage in Monaco’s finest spa.
Your boyfriend had been the true pillar in your life. Lando been so patient and tried to help in any way he could when you’d seek comfort in his arms and awkwardly stumbled words. Poor thing didn’t know how to make your stress go away when you were at your worst, but he certainly tried his best and that was all that mattered. Lando felt helpless at those times, but he found himself relaxing when he held you and could feel the tension in your shoulders lessen.
You’d been neglecting him for over a week now, but he was nothing if not understanding and he took advantage of that time to spend more in front of his computer with his friends or even the racing sim, while you holed up in your shared bedroom.
It had made you feel a little guilty at first, seeing as it was his season break and he’d intended to spend his free time with you but your schedules didn’t align enough. There were only so many hours you could spend procrastinating before the stress got to be too much.
You’d first opted to sit next to him while he played and streamed but you’d found him too big of a distraction so it hadn’t been long before you migrated to your bedroom. Hearing him from down the hall was comfort enough.
It was as if your thoughts had summoned him, the creak of the door pulling your attention to it and you blinked away the blur in your eyes to watch his upper body and head peak through the space. The curls on his head were wild, unrulier than usual and you’d have taken a step back to admire them if you had the strength to.
“You alright?” He asked tentatively, and you nodded with a wave of your hand; Gesturing for him to come in because suddenly you were in need of his comforting hug.
He’d gone quiet in his office a while ago and you figured he’d gone offline, not hearing a peep from him. Or maybe you’d had, and just didn’t notice.
“You need a break.” Lando murmured as he stepped inside, coming to stand by the bed.
You blinked up at him and realised the blur in your eyes were from unshed tears of exhaustion. It seemed as if Lando realised it at the same time you did, letting out a surprised soft laugh as he pouted his bottom lip in sympathy.
“Darling.” He reached out both of his hands to cradle your face, thumbs reaching out to swipe beneath your eyes. “This isn’t healthy.”
“I’m not crying, I swear.” You placed your hands over his, letting out a watery laugh at the worry in his eyes. “I’m just tired. These words aren’t making sense anymore.”
Lando made a sound in his throat, turning to plop down on the bed. You tried to keep the scowl from showing on your face when he moved around the meticulously arranged papers on the sheets, but he saw it and grimaced in something you guessed were apologetic.
“How about we go out and get something to eat?” Your boyfriend suggested, laying down on his side and propping his head up with the help of his hand.
“I’m not hungry.” That was a lie.
You’d been cooped up in your room for over - you glanced at the clock and winced - three hours, and the last time you’d ate was a bowl of yogurt and granola. It wasn’t healthy, and you always made a point of eating before your insides started twisting with hunger, but it was easy to get carried away while revising.
“Don’t pull that shit on me.” Lando’s eyes rolled, reaching a hand out to nudge you in the side to garner a reaction out of you. You jumped with a startled giggle, swatting at his hand. “Just an hour and then we’ll be back, I promise.”
You shook your head, no matter how tempting that offer was. You knew yourself well enough to know that you’d go out to eat, come back and then push studying aside to cuddle in bed with him. And seeing as the both of you hadn’t gone further than kissing for the past week, Lando would definitely not protest if you procrastinated in order to spend some quality time with him.
“Lan, I love you but I really cannot abandon this until I’m done.” You gestured to the mountain of stress in front of you.
Lando followed the gesture with his eyes, stretching a hand out to pluck a notebook with your scribble on it. You watched him scan it, a furrow making its way between his bushy eyebrows and it made you smile involuntarily. He looked absolutely adorable and so very confused.
“Medical terminology…” He read before trailing off with a sound of aversion. “So… What? You need to memorise these words?”
It would be a lie if you said that you hadn’t been a little distracted while he skimmed over the pages as if he understood what the words such as Popliteal and Supraclavicular meant. You were too busy looking at the arch of his nose and the tempting pout of his lips, admiring the slight redness covering the apples of his cheeks.
His eyes flicked up and you blinked back to reality, ignoring the teasing smile playing on his lips as you answered his previous question with a forlorn nod. You watched him light up slightly as an idea struck him.
“What?”
“What if I help you out?” He asked, sitting up slightly.
You almost laughed. Help? You’d be a delicious distraction.
“How would you help me?” You asked instead, smiling as he sat up fully and waved the notebook in his hand between you two. As if that would answer your question.
“May I?” He asked and you looked at his hand hovering over the textbooks.
It took you a second to realise what he was asking and you almost shook your head no, but Lando looked too excited and you weren’t about to rain on his parade so you nodded.
He didn’t waste any time with packing everything up and placing them in a surprisingly organised pile on the floor by the bed, keeping the notebook he’d been holding close by as he scooted up the bed and laid down with his head on the pillow. You gazed at him questioningly, feeling lost.
“Wow… You sure cleared my confusion up.” You said slowly after a beat of silence.
You watched your boyfriend roll his eyes, so sassy and so Lando it made your chest hurt with adoration.
“Alright smartass. Come here.” His hand circled your wrist and the tug almost sent you flying over him. You squealed in surprise, thankfully steadying yourself before you toppled over and looked down on Lando between the curtain of hair that had fallen over your face. “Sorry.”
You slapped his chest lightly and rearranged yourself so you were straddling his thighs gently as he’d probably intended to have you do from the start. The position made unexpected arousal flare up in your abdomen and it wasn’t disappearing any time soon with the way Lando was looking up at you from his position.
“Alright, can you please tell me what’s going on?” You asked nicely and placed your hands over his where they’d snuck up and found a home on your thighs.
He freed one hand and grabbed yours, fingers slotting nicely between yours and you resisted the sudden urge to grind down on him. Something about this man made you shamelessly feral.
“Okay so, you have to memorise all this gibberish and what better way than to practice on me?” He finished his sentence by tugging softly on your hand and you bent down when you understood his silent request, slotting your lips against his.
His lips felt soft and you couldn’t help but open up to his tongue, your body automatically melting into his as his free hand found its place on the small of your back to pull you in closer.
You allowed yourself a few seconds before sitting back up in his lap, feeling slightly disoriented.
“Is this your way of getting me into bed?” You narrowed your eyes jokingly in suspicion, earning a laugh from him.
“No, I genuinely want to help. But I wouldn’t mind you in bed with me, either.” He replied, pushing his hips up to readjust his position and jostling you in the process. “Go ahead, where do you wanna start?”
You pursed your lips in thought, deciding that starting at his face and working yourself down was the best way to do it. You were, after all, already sat on his legs and had made yourself quite comfortable. With your decision made, you placed one hand on the left side of Lando’s head and got close to him.
Lando sucked his lips into his mouth, big eyes watching you in silence but his facial expression said it all. It truly had been too long since you’d had sex, but maybe there was a way of incorporating intimacy into studying. Who birds, one stone and all that.
“So, this is the frontal.” You murmured, the other hand coming up to swipe a gentle finger across his forehead before moving down to his cheekbone. “The zygomatic bone.”
Lando blinked slowly, but he stayed silent as your fingers trailed down over the slope of his nose. A giggle left your lips as he scrunched his nose, the skin moving beneath the tips of your fingers.
“The nasal,” You muttered, trailing your fingers up to gently touch his eyelids as he closed his eyes. You couldn’t help but place soft kisses over each of them, watching him flutter them open to look at you. His eyelashes were ridiculously long and seductive. You hated it. “Oculus.”
Lando shifted beneath you, tongue coming out to wet his lips and you were immediately drawn to the sheen of them. You let out a small desperate breath, closing the small distance between the two of you for a kiss. Your boyfriend made a sound in his throat and you pulled back barely an inch to whisper.
“Oral cavity.” Before diving back in for a second kiss that he was more than happy to reciprocate.
It was easy to lose yourself in his touch and the warmth of his body against yours, your hand coming up to grab his thick hair in your grip while his circled around your body to pull you flush against him.
“Lando…” You let out a small whine when he pulled back to bite on your bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth in a way that had your toes curling. “Fuck me.”
Any other day and you’d probably flush at the way you sounded so whiny, but you didn’t have time to overthink it before your boyfriend gathered up what remained of his self restraint to pull back. You chased his lips and only got a nip back, making you pout down at him.
“Keep going.” He ordered and you scooted up so your nether regions were flush against each other. He hissed your name in warning, “Don’t be a brat, finish what you started.”
You huffed and opened your mouth to protest but caught yourself when you saw the expression on his face. Shit, he really wasn’t playing around.
“Fine.” You bit out, wiggling a little in place to feel the smooth hardness of Lando between your legs.
The man in question tutted and reached out to grip your throat in a hold, gentle but it was strong enough to catch you off guard and still yourself in his lap.
“What is this part called?” He asked, awfully casual for someone who was half hard with their hand wrapped around your throat.
He flexed his fingers lightly and you searched your muddled brain for the answer, fighting the urge to moan when he squeezed. It wasn’t fair, he knew what he was doing to you.
“The esophagus.” You whispered, not daring to look away from his intense gaze as he carefully unwrapped his fingers from said body part, two of his fingers tapping your chin before resting on your bottom lip.
“Open.” He commanded softly and you did, without question.
You held his eyes as he slid two fingers inside, tasting the saltiness of his skin as he stroked over your tongue. The urge to gag hit you when he slid too far down, eyes watering when he wiggled his fingers inside teasingly.
“What’s this called?” He asked, and you could see the teasing pull of the corners of his mouth when you glared down at him.
How am I supposed to respond with your fingers down my throat? Your eyes screamed, but Lando merely raised his eyebrows and pressed his fingers forward in retaliation.
You gagged, a sound of despair escaping your drooling mouth.
You tried to reply with “Pharynx” but the words came out as a jumbled mess and you drooled down his fingers. But it was apparently good enough for Lando because he pulled back slightly to let you breathe more properly, stroking the width of your tongue in a silent command. You sucked on his fingers, cleaning them off of any saliva before he retrieved them entirely.
“Good girl.” The rasp in his voice made your stomach swoop as he smiled at you, placing his hands on either side of your hips. “Go on.”
You stared at him, not entirely sure what to do but he gave you the answer when he tugged on your t-shirt; A silent urge to take it off. You didn’t waste any time, grabbing it by the hem and lifting it off your torso; Almost falling over in the process. Lando chuckled at your eagerness and your face burned, but you refused to let that affect you. The two of you looked at one another for a beat before he dropped his gaze to your heaving, exposed chest. Never had you been happier to have foregone a bra, especially when he stroked both hands up your sides. He felt your skin beneath his palms, a shiver escaping you.
“Please,” You whispered, grinding down on the hardness beneath you. Your eyes fluttered.
“Please what?” His voice sounded teasing, bright eyes trained on you.
Instead of answering him verbally, you grabbed his hands in yours and placed them over the swell of your breasts. Lando inhaled at the feel of them in his palms, letting you squeeze his hands in yours. A moan escaped your mouth as his thumbs swiped over your nipples until they pebbled, back arching into his hold.
“So needy for me.”
His rough voice had you opening your eyes and he must’ve seen something in them because he took pity on you. The yelp that left your lips was anything but attractive when he embraced you and flipped you both over. Lando laughed when you bounced on the mattress, and you couldn’t help but giggle as the tension broke.
“Please, Lando.” You pleaded after the both of you had calmed down from your little fit, hands coming up to feel the taut of his stomach over his t-shirt.
You sounded needy in your own ears but you didn’t really care. And judging by your boyfriends teeth sinking into his bottom lip, he loved hearing you like this.
“Please what, darling?” His eyebrows drew together in fake sympathy, his gaze dropping to your chest when you arched your back.
You opened your mouth to answer him but the words died on your lips the second Lando leaned down and sucked a nipple into his mouth. You should’ve seen it coming, because he could never keep away from your tits for too long but the suction made you gasp all the same, hands coming up to grab at the back of his head.
“Just fuck me already.” You said.
Lando grabbed the both of your hands in his before pinning them to the side, suckling harsher on your teat before kissing his way over to the other side. You didn’t know what to focus on, the cool air on your wet nipple, his unforgiving mouth on the other one or the way his hands were digging into the skin of your wrists. The thought of him bruising you made you buck your hips up, craving it more than ever.
“You’re impatient tonight.” He drew back, blowing cool air on your saliva soaked skin and making you squirm. “I can’t decide whether I should punish you for being a needy little slut or fuck the brattiness out of you.”
You knew you shouldn’t talk back, but the words were out of your mouth before you could stop them.
“Anything would be better than this.” It came out as an indignant mutter but Lando’s eyes flared in challenge.
It was quick and you didn’t have time to react to his hand sailing down and slapping the meat of your breast. You yelled out in shock, feeling your pussy clench around nothing as you tried to sit up as an automatic response. Lando tutted, quickly grabbing you by the throat and pushing you down with a strength that had you gasping for breath.
“This is what happens when I don’t fuck you for a week,” He hissed, eyebrows drawn in anger but you could see the desire in his eyes as he bent down to your eye level. “One week without my cock and you start acting like a bitch.”
Holy fuck, the filth coming from his mouth made your nerves light up in anticipation. It had been too long, so fucking long since he talked and behaved like this. You hadn’t realised how much you missed it until now.
His hand let go of your throat and instead cupped your chin, his fingers squeezing your mouth together until your eyes fluttered shut in need with a moan. Lando grinned down at you, tightening his grip just to watch your eyes roll before pressing a filthy kiss to your mouth that you barely had time to reciprocate before he pulled back.
It felt like you were in a daze, feeling him pull your sweatpants off along with your panties. He made an offhand comment about the wetness that you didn’t register, choosing to grit your teeth and ball your fists to keep from touching yourself instead.
Lando undressed himself without getting off the bed, albeit a little clumsily but he recovered quick and grabbed your thighs to spread them apart. The look on his face made you flush hot all over, almost like you were a meal he couldn’t wait to devour.
“Look at that, so wet already.” He hummed in appreciation and coated one finger in your slick before sinking it inside of you, revelling in your gasps. “All this for me, baby?”
“Mmm,” You swallowed, throat drying up and eyes closing at the sensation. “Just for you, Lando.”
“That’s what I thought.” He said smugly.
He sank a second finger inside and scissored them until he deemed you stretched enough, his free hand stopping your thighs from closing when you started to feel him pull out. It had been too long since you’d been touched like this, and Lando was always so talented with his fingers. He could truly play you like a fiddle.
“Don’t.” He growled, the tone of his voice making you squirm and separate your legs obediently again. “Good girl.”
You watched him in silence as he pulled his fingers out, slipping them into his mouth to clean them off with a hum that you felt in your core. Sweat was beading on your forehead and you were sure that you looked a mess. Lando didn’t seem to mind it though, his eyes roaming appreciatively over your body before settling on your face. His eyes softened at whatever he saw in your eyes and something warm bloomed in your chest.
“Kiss me, please?” You begged, suddenly needing him near you.
Lando didn’t hesitate as he bent over to press his mouth to yours, the kiss uncharacteristically gentle consider how crudely his cock was pressing against your mound, one hand sinking into your hair to tilt your head to his liking. He broke the kiss for a moment to reach to the side, opening up the drawer with a groan and rifling through the contents. You watched in mild amusement, taking in the pinch of his eyebrows and the concentration on his face. You took the opportunity to press kisses to his shoulder and up his throat, your tongue tasting the saltiness of his sweaty skin. Lando’s unstable position faltered and you sucked a small lovebite into the delicate skin of his neck for good measure.
“Fuck.” He swore with a breathless laugh, steadying himself and sitting upright.
You smiled up at him, planting your feet on the bed and bending your legs so Lando could get even closer to where you needed him the most. His bright eyes found yours, eyebrows rising. He bit into the tinfoil, tearing it open and fishing the condom out to slip it on.
The rubber wasn’t needed, not really. But Lando knew you well enough to know when you had enough energy after the deed to clean yourself up, and today wasn’t one of those days. He would often do it himself, ignoring your embarrassing protests as he wiped you down with a cloth and eventually giving up when he swatted your hands away.
Anticipation rose in you when he positioned himself but he seemed to change his mind at the last second, a devilish smile widening on his lips when he patted the side of your hip twice. You knew what that meant and you bit your lip in uncertainty. The dreaded position you loved and hated at the same time.
“Turn around and don’t make me ask twice.” Lando said after reading the look on your face and you made a noise that sounded a lot like dislike.
But you definitely didn’t want to stall it any longer, so you turned your body around and pressed your cheek against the mattress with your eyes closed. This position hit absolutely every nerve inside of you, but it also left you completely exposed and that’s mainly why you hated it.
Lando grabbed your hips and lifted you upwards so your knees were beneath you, exhaling as he slid his hands from your ass and down your back. The feel of his palm against the skin of your back made you arch despite your initial hesitation and something about that made the man behind you feel all the more needier.
“So fucking gorgeous,” You heard him whisper and you believed it. “Can’t wait to sink into this pretty little cunt.”
Unexpected heat shot down your back and you moaned, pressing back against Lando in hopes that he’d finally get the hint and fuck you. Your hands gripped the sheets on either side of your bed in anticipation at the thought.
“Fuck me, please.” It came out as a whispered plea.
“I will, don’t worry, love.”
And with that promise, he nudged himself inside. You arched in response, eyes shutting as he started pushing inside little by little. The stretch was incredible, making your toes curl and mouth open in a silent moan. Lando let out a sound of his own as he bottomed out, one hand grabbing your hips while the other settled over the small of your back to push down gently. You arched, and he seemed to like that because he immediately drew back before thrusting back in.
He found a rhythm you assumed he liked and you matched it by pushing back when he pushed in. A wave of heat overtakes you and your eyes roll in your sockets the harder he thrusts; Like a man on a mission, eager to bury himself inside you as far as he can go.
It hadn’t occured to you just how badly you’d been neglecting Lando lately, but it was evident in how his hands grabbed anywhere he could find purchase, your name leaving his mouth in a chant as he fucked you harder. You needed this as much as he did.
“Fuck, oh my God.” You tried to pull your hand back to touch yourself but you were jostled too harshly and you ended up being thrown off balance.
A high pitched whine left your mouth as Lando slipped out and just as you were about to turn your head to look at him, he’d grasped your hips and turned you around on your back. He reached for the pillow next to your head, stuffing it under your hips and kissing just beneath your navel in the process as a silent praise for raising your hips without him having to ask.
You watched with bated breath as he pressed kisses down your stomach, over your mound before latching his mouth onto your clit. The unexpected touch of his sinful mouth had you throwing your head back, squeezing your eyes shut.
“Oh my God, Lando...” You moaned, attempting to tilt your head down so you could watch him but he was quick to flick his tongue against your clit and it only made you arch into his mouth.
Lando was holding the base of his cock, squeezing and willing himself not to blow too soon. He’d been waiting to get inside you long enough and he wasn’t about to end it before he’d had his fill of you. When he deemed it safe enough, he pulled away and positioned himself between your legs before sliding in. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip at your reaction, loving the flutter of your eyelids and the pretty way your mouth opened in a pathetic moan.
He couldn’t help but lower himself down onto you, mindful as to not suffocate you but just enough for you to feel the press of his chest against yours as he started fucking into your wet heat.
You took it like a champion, arms circling his upper body and legs falling open as he fucked you into the mattress with reckless abandon. The stress you’d been feeling the past week was slowly seeping out of you, and you welcomed the feeling of it as you brought Lando to your mouth, kissing him until you lost your breath.
“You’re so pretty,” Lando murmured against your lips breathlessly. “My pretty baby.”
He slid one hand between the two of you, long fingers finding your clit and rubbing it in a way that had you crying out against his mouth. Lando refused to blink, didn’t want to miss the look on your face as he brought you closer to euphoria.
“You know what this is, baby?” He asked, hand cupping your pussy and trying not to falter when he felt where the two of you were connected.
Fuck, you were soaking and Lando was really about to blow.
“This is mine.” He hissed, watching the way your eyes rolled before shutting. “Only I get to fuck it, you hear me?”
You opened your mouth to respond that yes, of course it fucking is - but the loud cry that left you instead surprised the both of you as your body tensed up, pussy clenching around his cock as you sobbed through your orgasm. Liquid heat trickled down your back and you momentarily blacked out at the sheer force of you tensing up in your climax.
“Oh fuck.” Lando hissed, dropping his head against the crook of your neck and fucking into your clenching pussy.
If your sounds and the look on your face wasn’t enough to bring him to his end, then the feel of your legs circling around him and locking him into place was enough to do his head in. You moaned weakly as he tensed up in your arms, shooting into the condom and grinding into your sensitive cunt, like he wanted to bury himself as deep as possible.
He probably didn’t realise that in his high, he’d dropped his entire weight on you but you absolutely didn’t mind it; Finding comfort in his heaving body and the feel of his damp hair as you buried your fingers into it.
“God, you’re gonna fucking kill me.” He garbled against your skin as he pulled himself out of you, lifting his head weakly to take a look at you.
You couldn’t help but grin at his flushed face and blown wide pupils, feeling thrilled that this gorgeous man loved you. And you loved him, so much.
“I could really go for a sandwich from the deli down the street right now.” You whispered dreamily, closing your eyes shut as he brought a shaking hand up to swipe a few damp strands from your forehead.
Lando pulled a face.
“If you think we’re not gonna order in, you’re sorely mistaken.”
He shook his head at the thought of leaving the bed - leaving you naked in his bed - to buy sandwiches. No matter how absolutely amazing they were. You blinked up at him with big eyes, pouting your lip and Lando knew right then that he’d lost any willpower he’d had left.
“Oh, you’re good.” He narrowed his eyes, sneaking his hands down to tickle your sides.
You squealed, squirming underneath him and yelling at him to stop, your body too weak to fight back. Lando kept going for a few seconds before he let you push him to the side so you were half laying on top of him instead.
“You’re evil.” You glared at him, but he could see the twitch of your raw lips and the love in your eyes so he didn’t take it too hard.
Lando gripped your chin gently and brought you in a for a kiss before pulling back to look at you. You blinked back and he smiled.
“Alright I’ll go down to the shop in one condition.” He said, trying to sound serious despite the massive grin on his face. “You hop in the shower, and then I want all these books gone from this room by the time I get back. We’re taking the rest of the night off.”
You suppressed a smile at the “we”, nodding your head reluctantly instead because for once you weren’t overwhelmed with stress and you weren’t about to bring it all back when Lando had worked so hard to relieve you of it. Hopefully he’d relieve you of it a couple more times later tonight.
“It’s a deal.” You agreed verbally, bringing your pinky to hook into his own.
“Alright, let’s get to it.” He brought an arm around and slapped your ass.
You jumped with a gasp, glaring at your boyfriend who cackled and jumped out of bed before you could kick him in retaliation. He looked amused as he walked around the bed to find tissues and get rid of the condom, cleaning himself up the best he could. He found the clothes he’d thrown on the floor, pulling them on all the while watching you stretch on the bed like a cat. It was so tempting to crawl back into bed and have his way with you but he gritted his teeth and turned to locate his wallet and phone.
“Text me your order, I’ll see you in a bit.” He said and leaned down to press two kisses to your lips, making a noise in his throat when you wound your hands in his hair and pulled him closer for a few more kisses. “I love you.”
You grinned against his mouth, teeth knocking together but you were too happy to care as he nipped your lower lip and pulled himself up to stand straight.
“Love you too. Be safe.”
You watched him walk out, smiling to yourself at how incredibly lucky you were.
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ja3yun · 5 days
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please be real | p.js
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ex!jay x fem!reader warnings: angst, heartache, smut (mdni), fingering, unprotected sex, cream pie, teasing, pet names (princess, baby), crying, mentions of alcohol, drunk jay, pure heartbreak in the beginning, not proofread, anything else lmk synopsis: after a six-year relationship, you and jongseong part ways due to different needs for the future. when jongseong's first birthday post-breakup arrives, his struggle with your absence reaches a breaking point, prompting a late-night call from his friend that consequently reignites emotions and unresolved feelings. wc: 9.4k a/n: hi! it's me and it's jay's birthday so i wrote him a little something something. i didn't initially intend to rip my heart out as i wrote this yet here i am. this was oddly a healing one to write but i must warn you it does mention the reader not wanting to have children so if that doesn't appeal to you then this probs isn't the fic for you! as always, like, comments, feedback, etc. is all appreciated! ilysm and happy bday jay <3
A sharp, jarring noise pierces your ears, the peaceful sleep you were in rudely disrupted. You groan out loud, covering your face with your covers but it does nothing to stop the ringing from your phone, it doesn’t even dull it a little, the little black device only echoing around the room louder.
Disoriented and groggy, you fumble for your phone on the bedside table, clumsily searching for it in the darkness. It isn’t your alarm, the usual peaceful tones of the birds chirping would be a welcomed sound, one that eases you into the day; no this was a phone call.
Finally grasping your phone, your eyes fight themselves open as you blink away any remnants of sleep, trying to find any sort of centre from your dizzy awakening. You look at the name on your phone but your vision is so blurred you can’t make it out but answer it anyway, knowing that whoever is phoning at this ungodly hour is clearly in need of your help.
“Hello?” you ask quietly, as if you don’t want to disturb the quiet of the night, unlike the person on the other end of the call.
“Uh, Y/N? It’s Jake.” His soft Australian accent drifts from your phone speaker into your ears. He sounds unsure whether he is supposed to be making the call, which to be fair, you understand because you haven’t heard from him in months, not after…
Letting out a sigh, you rub your forehead with the base of your palm tiredly, “Jake, why the fuck are you calling me at…” you pull the phone away, inspecting the time now that you’re more alert, “3.36am?” you ask with a hint of disdain. Normally, you would welcome the boy’s surprise call, after all, you did miss him. But considering he woke you up from a good dream involving you, Jeongin from Stray Kids, and a happily ever after; he wasn’t exactly your favourite person right now.
You can faintly hear some music in the background as he stays silent and you swear to yourself if this is to give him a ride home from a concert turned party, you’ll have his head.
“Listen, I hate to ask you this but can you come to Haven?”
“The nightclub? Why?” Your earlier suspicions are proving to be right, he does want a lift home. That would be an acceptable request if you guys were actively talking every day and the best of buddies but he isn’t even your friend, not really. 
You can hear him shuffling around on the other end of the line, his voice can be heard trying to calm someone down but his words are obscured as if the phone is wrested away from his mouth, leaving only disjointed fragments of speech drifting through the receiver. 
This sounds like more than just a simple ride home and it causes you to snap to attention, your senses heightened with concern. 
Jake finally brings his attention back to you, letting out a sigh of discontentment, “It’s Jay, he’s a mess and he’s calling out for you.”
Jay. Park Jongseong.
It’s been so long since anyone has dared to mention his name to you that it almost sounds like a foreign word.
Seven months ago, you and Jongseong had decided to call off your 6-year relationship, both of you reaching the understanding that it was for the best considering your battling differences and needs within the relationship.
It wasn’t easy, the furthest thing from it actually. You and him had been inseparable since high school and once you both got together in year 12, it was always you and him against the world. He was the love of your life, that once in a lifetime kind of love that only happens in fairytales. Your souls were both painted from the same brush stroke.
But he wanted a peaceful, routine life - a classic white picket fence dream. Evenings would be spent with friends, savouring white wine and casual conversations over dinner. His heart was set on imagining the echoes of your future children's laughter filling your home, family trips to the seaside, and comforting them with kisses and band-aids when they got hurt.
And you craved spontaneity, to embrace life with vigour, travelling the world together was your dream, free from the responsibilities of parenting, cherishing moments just for yourselves. You longed for random midnight trips to Tesco for birthday cake simply because you could. All you wished for was to be with him, just the two of you.
Suddenly, your brain clicks into an important detail and you hurriedly check the calendar on your phone and the date makes you slump in your bed.
Today is Jongseong’s birthday, well technically not anymore given the time, but that means he has lived his first birthday without you by his side in so long. You would always celebrate his big day by doing something from his handwritten bucket list he has had since he was a child. Over the years he has added more to the list, each birthday scoring one out to add another.
The list wasn't extravagant; it was filled with simple yet heartfelt desires. You bought him a bundle of guitar lessons and a Taylor 114e electric guitar to fulfil his wish of learning to play. When you noticed the Download Festival marked with gold stars on his list, you surprised him with tickets for the year Metallica was headlining. And when he expressed a desire to cook a meal from scratch for his mum, you gifted him a kitchen knife engraved with his name and took the time to teach him how to prepare her favourite dish.
His birthdays were the most precious when you were in them, and you weren’t there with him.
“Y/N?” Jake’s sweet voice draws you back to his attention and out of the memory lane swirl your brain has put you in. He knows this is a tough call for you to take considering you and Jongseong said to cut ties completely; it’s better to act like you both didn’t exist than keep a thread tethered to one another that would only hurt you more.
As Jake and Sunghoon whisked Jay away for his birthday celebration, their intention was simple: to help him let loose and have a good time. Jay had been buried in overtime work lately, leaving little room for socialising. Since the breakup, the idea of going out without you - dancing together, stealing kisses in the taxi ride home - seemed unappealing.
Waking up that morning, Jay realised it marked the first birthday in six years without ticking something off his bucket list. The familiar, worn paper lay dormant on his desk, a stark reminder of your absence. He had no desire to celebrate today without you by his side. If he could fast-forward through the day to escape the weight of his birthday, he would eagerly do so.
Yet, with two very persuading friends and a whole lot of whiskey later, here he was, curled up outside Haven, yearning out for you.
“Y/N please, at least come and convince him to get up and come home with us,” Jake pleads. You can hear the cries of your ex-lover more clearly now as Jake kneels beside his friend, checking in on him.
With a resigned sigh, you nod, “Okay. Keep him warm, I’ll be there in 20 minutes.”
Hanging up the phone, you quickly put a brush through your hair and change into a baggy top, one you bought for Jongseong before breaking up, and a pair of grey sweatpants. This is a bad idea, you know it is, but you also can’t leave him to wallow in the middle of the street. You don’t think you could live with yourself if you didn’t help and Jake wouldn’t call unless it was something he couldn’t handle. 
You don’t want to see the state Jongseong is in, his wailing cries that you could slightly hear over the phone already made your heart clench in hurt.
As you drive to Haven, your heart races in anticipation with each mile that passes. Is your heart ready to face him after all these months? Staring into the love of your life’s eyes once again might break you even more. You’ve done a good job in keeping yourself together, at putting on a facade that everything is okay, when deep down you know that if one person asked you about Jongseong you would crumble and fall apart. 
He wasn’t the only one throwing himself into work to forget. You’ve worked hours and hours trying to keep your mind off the heartbreak, you thought that if you just focused and kept your head down, the phrase time heals all wounds would kick in and you’d be free of the torment of losing your first love. But it hasn’t worked out that way, you know that now as you speed down the empty roads to console the one person you are trying to forget.
As you reach Haven, you can vaguely see three boys under the illuminating sign, almost as if shining a spotlight on them to add to the spectacle that Jongseong is making. Onlookers are watching as your ex-boyfriend cries on the pavement, wishing you would come home.
With a quick exhale, you step out of the car before doubts can creep in, determined to be there for him. Jake and Sunghoon's voices float to you, attempting to soothe him and inject some sense into the moment. Bracing yourself, you approach, ready to offer whatever comfort you can, despite the storm of emotions swirling within you.
Sinking onto the balls of your feet, you lower yourself to Jongseong's level, meeting his strained figure. Instantly, the sight of his distress instantly shatters your heart into a million pieces.
An abundance of tears cascades down Jongseong's reddened face, obscuring his features like a relentless waterfall. His clenched jaw and the prominent vein on his forehead portray the intensity of his distress as he struggles to draw each laboured breath. Curled into himself, his body seems to contort with the weight of physical agony, mirroring the emotional pain that ripples through his trembling form. He’s been keeping this in for so long that his body doesn’t know how to cope with it.
Reaching out to grab his clenched fist, you shuffle forward, “Jjongie? It’s me, baby, look at me,” you say calmly, trying to reassure him with your soft voice.
As your fingers gently encircle his clenched fist, Jongseong's body tenses at the touch. Slowly, he turns his gaze towards you, his eyes bloodshot and filled with an overwhelming mixture of sorrow and longing. For a moment, there's a flicker of recognition in his eyes before they cloud over again with anguish.
He doesn’t believe you’re actually here, considering the long nights where he has conjured up the idea of you, clinging to his imagination on the lonely nights he wishes for your touch. But as you squeeze his hand, he realises this isn’t a dream-induced sighting, you’re really here in front of him.
"Y/N..." he murmurs, his voice choked with emotion. Tears stream down his face in torrents, some landing on your hand that holds his. His cries reverberate through the air, each wail a sharp stab to your chest.
Cupping his cheek, you settle yourself between his legs, ignoring the discomfort of the rocks beneath your knees, your focus solely on him. With a sad smile, you attempt to mask your own anguish, your touch a gentle reassurance amidst his storm of emotions.
"Hey, hey, enough of that now," you hush him softly, your voice a soothing melody in the tumultuous night. Using your thumb, you tenderly wipe away his tears, though they continue to flow unabated.
He leans into your touch, “I miss you so much, Y/N, please. Please,” he pleads as you feel his warm breath against your skin as he nuzzles into your palm, seeking solace in the familiar sensation he's been yearning for.
It’s hurting you just seeing him like this, the man you once knew to be strong-willed and resilient, keeping his emotions under control unless he’s sharing sweet vulnerable moments with you under the covers, is now a shell of himself, stripped bare by the weight of grief.
Turning your face to look at Jake, you offer him a small smile, “I’ll take him home.”
“You sure?” Jake asks, knowing that it’s a dangerous game for you both if you do.
“Yeah, I don’t think he’s going to move unless I do,” you chuckle sympathetically but there’s a bubble in your throat as Jongseong’s whimpers flow into your ear from beside you.
Nodding, Jake gestures to Sunghoon, silently enlisting his help in the task of ferrying the drunk man to your car. The weight of Jongseong's limp form proves cumbersome as you all struggle to navigate his dead weight, his limbs hanging heavily without offering any assistance.
"Let's get you home," you murmur softly, your hands pressing gently against Jongseong's chest to steady him, aided by his friends who lift him onto their shoulders.
His eyes lock onto yours, an intensity burning within them. "Please be real," he whispers, his voice trembling with desperation. Despite feeling your touch and catching hints of your scent, doubt gnaws at him. If this is merely a figment of his imagination, he knows he'll never forgive himself. You're so close, so tangible - it has to be you.
With much struggle, the three of you get him to your car, putting him gently in the backseat so he can lie down, but he wraps his arms around your waist as his legs stay situated outside of the vehicle, holding you close to him.
"Come on, Jjongie, lie down for a minute," you coax gently, guiding him to stretch out along the seats. But he remains unmoving, clutching onto you as if fearing you'll slip away if he lets go. With a soft sigh, you stroke the back of his head, your hands moving in a soothing rhythm. "I promise, I am not going anywhere," you whisper, your words a tender vow to him.
Yet, your attempts to reassure him seem to go unheard. His face burrows deeper into your stomach, his words muffled by the fabric of your t-shirt and the weight of his tears.
You exchange a worried glance with Jake and Sunghoon, “How much did he have to drink?” you ask, scared of the answer they will give. Your ex-boyfriend has always been so good at holding his liquor that it must have been a hefty amount he consumed.
“Like two weeks' wage worth,” Sunghoon winces, his neck tightening as he looks at his best friend.
"Oh, baby..." you sigh softly, feeling a wave of empathy wash over you. Returning your attention to Jongseong, you press a tender kiss to the crown of his head, hoping to offer some comfort amidst his distress. His response is to cling to you even tighter, his sobs echoing against your chest as he seeks solace in your embrace.
You need to get him home, he’s a mess and the longer he stays like this, the more his body is going to wear out. 
With a gentle hand, you stroke his hair, your touch a soothing caress against his trembling form. Despite the chaos swirling around you, you find a semblance of peace in this intimate moment, anchored by the bond that still lingers between you.
"I've got you, Jjongie," you whisper softly, drawing back as he eases up his grip on you. His friends go to help you but you halt them with a firm gesture, "You guys can go, I've got it from here."
Sunghoon shakes his head, concern etched on his face. "He's too heavy, Y/N. You won't be able to manage him into the flat without us," he protests.
But you stand your ground. This is your and Jongseong's mess, and you can’t let others help you clean it up, "It's okay. You guys have done your shift for tonight. Go home," you insist, your voice resolute.
Reluctantly, Sunghoon and Jake nod and bid you goodnight before going their separate ways home, leaving you alone with Jongseong and the weight of your shared history.
Taking a deep breath, you hoist him in, his body listening to you a little more now that you’ve reassured him you aren’t leaving him. He sprawls over the backseats and lays still, the alcohol consuming him into some form of comatose now that he has relaxed slightly.
You slide into the driver's seat, the engine humming to life beneath you. Glancing at Jongseong's slumbering form in the rearview mirror, you steel yourself for the journey ahead.
_____
Arriving at his house makes you more nervous than before. This wasn’t just his flat, it used to be your shared home, the place you lived for 2 and half years and made countless memories in.
You were the one to move out and find your own place, thinking it was best since your work was further away and you could find an apartment closer to it. But the truth is, you just couldn’t face being reminded of him in each room and in the pieces of furnishings.
It was selfish of you to leave him with the remnants of your relationship surrounding him, all you thought about was you and your needs, neglecting to think about how he might feel being surrounded by nothing but memories.
Lugging him into the flat, his legs are working in tandem with you now unlike before but he still isn’t proving to be the easiest person to carry. The last time you had to hold his weight like this was when he got drunk at your prom after taking sneaky shots in the hotel garden with his friends. It was funny but you blame him for some of your back pain that you’ve endured in your early twenties.
As you push open the door and step into the living room, a wave of nostalgia washes over you like a tsunami. Though only seven months have passed, it feels like a lifetime since you last stood in this space with him by your side. Everything remains unchanged, frozen in time since the day you left. The same couch sits in its familiar spot, adorned with throw pillows and blankets you bought for last season. Photographs of you both, captured during Christmases and holidays, adorn the walls, each one a snapshot of happier times. Even the vase that his mum had gotten you both for your housewarming gift, one that you loved and he hated, remains in its pride of place on the mantlepiece.
You push your thoughts down and make your way to your once-shared bedroom, walking through the memories and heaving your ex-boyfriend along slowly. His nose nudges into your hair, sweeping in your scent as he loses himself in the feeling of you.
As you reach the familiar threshold, you can't help but feel a pang of bittersweet longing. This room, once a sanctuary where you both shared your laughter and bodies, now serves as a poignant reminder of the love you've lost.
Gently, you ease Jongseong onto the bed, sitting him up, “I’m going to get you some clean boxers okay?” you ask him but he’s not here, not really, so you make your way to the drawers on the other side of the room.
Walking over, you spot a familiar t-shirt lying crumpled on your old side of the bed. You make a b-line to investigate it and as you pick up the crumpled t-shirt, a flood of memories washes over you, transporting you back to simpler times. Your fingers trace the familiar fabric, still faintly carrying the scent of you, now mingled with his cologne. You piece it all together pretty quickly, the way it still smells faintly of you but is not starting to be overpowered by his cologne. He hugs it at night to find peace of mind.
“Oh, Jjongie,” you sigh, heart reaching out to him. You’re no better, you have one of his hoodies that you snuck into your luggage as you packed and wear it when you’re at home. Just like your t-shirt, his hoodie is starting to lose its scent from the amount of times you’ve hugged yourself to sleep in it.
Jongseong has always been reserved, his emotions carefully guarded behind a facade of reason and rationale. To see him like this, vulnerable and raw, strikes a chord deep within you. If he had always worn his heart on his sleeve, perhaps it would be easier to understand. But the complexity of his emotions only serves to deepen the ache in your chest.
You place the t-shirt back on the pillow before opening the dresser drawer and retrieve a clean pair of boxers, his favourite ones with the faded Hellow Kitty print that you've always teased him about.
Gently, you begin to undress him while he rambles incoherent nonsense that you can’t understand between the mix of tears and drunk slurring. The top half is easy but the bottom half proves difficult as he only looks up at you, whispering pleas as he stares at you, keeping his bum firmly sat on the edge of the bed.
As you finally manage to remove Jongseong's jeans and boxers, leaving him naked, a new layer of vulnerability settles over the room. He sits before you bathed in the soft glow of the hallway light, his silhouette outlined in the darkness.
His beauty, illuminated by the faint light, is both captivating and heartbreaking. The familiarity of his form, once etched in your memory, now lays before you in the flesh, a tangible reminder of the love you still harbour for him. How could you not still love him? He was perfect in every way possible.
"Stay with me," he whispers, his voice a gentle plea as his hands begin to roam your sides, tracing the contours of your body beneath your shirt. Each touch ignites a flurry of sensations within you, sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
He pulls you onto his lap, your sweatpants becoming the barrier between his cock and your pussy. Yet, none of you are really thinking about that right now, all you both want is to hold one another again.
“Jongseong, we broke up, and for good reason,” you rationalise with not only him but yourself as you find yourself sinking into his touch as his hands roam your back.
Nuzzling his nose against yours, he begins to cry softly again, his face rubbing itself against yours as his tears transfer from his cheeks to yours, “Please, baby, don’t leave me,” he mumbles as his lips ghost over yours. 
He doesn’t just mean tonight, he means forever. A tear from your eye cascades down your face, getting lost in the mixture of his, your empathy for him overwhelming you because you feel the same way he does. You need him in every way, you need to be close to him, to feel his heart beating in synch with yours once again.
But you know better than this. You’re both just prolonging heartache if you succumb to being with him again. You can’t give each other what you need.
“Baby, don’t do this,” you beg him, knowing that he has the power to pull you back into his life with the click of his fingers, that resolve you have worked so hard to build up now hangs in the balance, “Let me get you changed and then into bed, yeah?”
Reasoning with him is a lost cause, his arms now hugging you tightly like before as he ignores your suggestion. The last thing he wants is to put on those boxers because he knows when he does that you’ll leave. 
"Please, Princess," his voice is raw with emotion, his desperation palpable in the air between you. And as you look into his eyes, you see the depth of his longing mirrored in your own. 
His plea hangs in the air, a heavy weight pressing down on your already burdened heart. You feel torn between the overwhelming desire to give in to his request and the harsh reality of the situation.
With a deep breath, you summon the strength to gently extricate yourself from his embrace, feeling the weight of his disappointment lingering in the air. His hurt expression tugs at your heartstrings, but you shake your head firmly, "Just tonight, okay?" you assure him, your voice soft but resolute.
Curse you and your heart that caves into his pleas so easily.
You disregard getting him dressed and instead, remove your sweatpants and replace them with those very boxers you planned to adorn him with and swap out your t-shirt for the one on your old pillow. Jongseong clumsily climbs into his covers, getting comfortable and finding some happiness in the fact that you’ll be in his arms at least for a little while. 
Once you climb into your side of the bed, he instinctively hugs you from behind, the comfort of your body pressed against his. He spoons you, tucking his face in your neck as he exhales in contentment. This is all he has been craving since that night you left and he couldn’t be happier. All the turmoil and anguish from earlier slowly depletes as he finds himself sinking into a much-needed sleep.
You can’t deny you feel the same, his arms wrapped around you feel like home, like you’ve been on a seven-month business trip and you’re now finally back where you belong. You sink into him further, relishing his skin against yours.
“Happy birthday, Jjongie,” you whisper, bringing his hand up to kiss it before intertwining your fingers with his.
_____
Waking up, Jongseong feels like his whole body has crashed into a brick wall. His bones ache and his head feels tight, but there is a weight that feels so familiar yet foreign, his legs tangled around something and his arms holding it close. This feels different from the t-shirt of yours he clings to every night, this has more substance.
Please don’t be some random girl he thinks to himself, scared to open his eyes. 
Even if he did want to open them he couldn’t because they are being held together so tight by something. Was he crying last night? Actually, what even happened last night?
He replays the fragments of the evening in his mind, a few scattered images begin to surface - Jake and Sunghoon dragging him to Haven, the raucous atmosphere of the bar, and the ill-advised decision to ride the mechanical bull. And then nothing.
As he tries to recounter the night, you see him attempt to pry his eyes open and decide to help him out. Swiping your thumb over his eyes, you wipe away the mix of his dried-in tears and sleep. He looks so confused when you touch him and his body tenses.
Either he is having a severe case of hallucinations to the point where he is starting to physically feel you or the girl that he took home last night resembles your touch. God, how he hoped it was the first one. 
Opening his eyes with your help, he blinks away the blur and sets his eyes on your face, his expression reading one of relief that quickly turns into astonishment.
“Y/N? Baby?” he whispers, his hands instinctively reaching for your cheek, “Please be real.” The same words he pleaded out last night leave his lips again. Jongseong has spent so many nights dreaming of you, wishing in an alternative universe that he can hold you again, so much so that this doesn’t feel real.
You don’t know what to say but obviously, you have to say something. It was one thing to confront drunk Jongseong who didn’t have a wit about him but now it feels like there’s a boulder on your chest as you try to conjure up the courage to speak to a sober, semi-alert Jongseong. 
All you can do is nod, no words escaping your dried lips. You look down to see you and his limbs mangled together just like they used to be, the feeling of his body pressed so tightly against yours almost feels like heaven.
He takes in the sight of you, the lines of disbelief on his features soften, replaced by a glimmer of hope. Slowly, almost tentatively, he reaches out to you, his fingers brushing against your cheek as if to confirm your presence.
The touch sends a jolt of electricity coursing through you, he’s caressing your cheek so tenderly it reminds you of the time you had the shift from hell and Jongseong held you the whole night, whispering sweet words into your ear and stroking your tears away, just like this.
Except there are no tears this time, you’re all cried out - months of mourning the loss of your relationship will do that to you.
As Jongseong's eyes meet yours, a flicker of recognition passes through them, followed by a wave of embarrassment. His voice is soft as he speaks, a hint of uncertainty lacing his words, "What are you doing here?" he asks, his tone laden with confusion.
"You got pretty drunk last night," understatement "And Jake asked me to come pick you up."
You can feel the tension in the air as Jongseong processes your words, his expression a mixture of shame and regret, "Sorry, I don't usually drink that much," he murmurs, his voice tinged with remorse.
The explanation stings, not because Jongseong has been drinking more, but because of the distance it creates between you. It's as if he's explaining himself to a stranger, rather than to the person who once knew him better than anyone else. The past six years you’ve known how he knows his limit and that he doesn’t tend to breach it, not subconsciously. 
All you do is nod, accepting his explanation as you slowly start to detangle yourself from him, “I better get going.”
“Y/N, please let's talk,” he pleads as his voice wavers, his grip tightening around your waist, and his desperation palpable as he pleads for your attention. But you've made up your mind, and no amount of persuasion can sway you from the path you've chosen.
"Jongseong, please, let's not do this," you implore, your voice tinged with a mixture of sorrow and resolve, "We're only going to hurt ourselves again."
You both know the reasons behind your breakup are deeply rooted, immutable truths that cannot be changed. It's not a matter of cheating or petty disagreements—this is about fundamental differences in desires and aspirations for the future.
But Jongseong refuses to accept defeat, his forehead coming to rest against yours as he breathes his love out, "Princess, we can work it out, I know we can," he insists, his words heavy with sincerity.
You steel yourself against the onslaught of his love, knowing that to give in would only prolong the inevitable pain, "We want different things, Jjongie," you remind him gently, your voice tinged with regret.
“I can do without them. It’s you I can’t live without…I can’t breathe without you here by my side.” His words are sincere and you know it, but you can’t accept it. When you both discussed your future, he looked so excited at the prospect of kids that your heart broke instantly. You knew right away that you couldn’t give him what he wanted most.
Closing your eyes and sucking in the bottom of your cheeks, you steady yourself to have this conversation yet again, “You can’t give up the idea of having kids. Having the life you want is much more important than me. You can find someone who can give you that.”
It hurts to say but you need to rip the bandaid off quickly. 
“You think I want that life with anyone but you?” His voice raises lightly, hinting at the anger rising into his chest. He needs you to listen to him, to understand him, “Y/N, if it’s not with you then I don’t want that life.”
Shaking your head determinedly, you sit up, “But I can’t give you that life, it’s not what I want.” You feel like you’re reliving the argument that ended it all those months ago.
“That’s okay.”
“No, It’s not,” It’s your turn to get angry, your eyebrows lacing together as you try to read him. How can he say all of this so easily? Like he wasn’t trying to promise you that he would change his entire life plan just to be with you. Is it romantic? Sure, but it’s also fucking stupid. No one should change just to keep someone they love because if they were meant to be, then their values would align…right?
"It's not that simple, Jongseong," you argue through the silence, your voice tinged with frustration, "You can't just sweep aside your dreams for the sake of our relationship. What about what you want? What about your own happiness?"
Jongseong sits up, the covers hiding his naked lower half; he hadn’t realised he was naked and it only adds a new layer to his vulnerability. He is laying himself bare to you.
But Jongseong's gaze remains unwavering, his determination evident in the set of his jaw, "Since we broke up, I've realised that you are the life I want," he declares, his words carrying the weight of his conviction, "Whatever that looks like for you, I want it."
You feel his words like a pickaxe, slowly breaking away at the wall you’ve spent months building around your heart and reason. A whirlwind of conflicting emotions sweeps over you. On one hand, his declaration of love sparks a glimmer of hope amidst the ruins of your fractured relationship. Yet, on the other hand, doubt claws at your insides, gnawing away at any semblance of certainty, the pure love that you have for him only wishes to make sure he’s happy and gets everything he wants in life.
"Jongseong, I..." you start, your voice wavering as you grapple with the turmoil inside. How do you express the depth of your feelings?
Grabbing your face with his large hands, he kisses you, his soft lips now coating yours. You’ve missed him so much that you become overwhelmed by his actions, a soft tear leaking from your ducts.
So much for being all cried out, you think to yourself.
"It's you, Y/N, I only need you," Jongseong whispers against your lips, his urgency evident as he seeks solace in the warmth of your embrace, stealing kisses with a hunger born from longing.
In spite of yourself, you find your lips responding to his touch, drawn in by the familiar sensation of his mouth against yours. Your arms instinctively wrap around him, fingers grazing lightly over the muscles of his back as you hold him close; your brain is telling you to push him away but your heart is pulling him tighter to you. 
"It's not fair to you, Jjongie," you murmur, the words weighted with a sense of guilt and remorse.
"I'd rather be with you happily than with kids and someone else miserably," Jongseong confesses, his words carrying the weight of his heart's deepest desires.
Jongseong wishes you could see it from his point of view; of course, he has wanted kids and a comfortable life for so long but the idea of achieving that when you are not his wife seems fucking ridiculous. There is no one in this world he wants to be with other than you and if that means he has to be an uncle rather than a dad, so be it.
You are all he has ever wanted. To grow old with you, to experience each of your accomplishments together and have you close to him. He wants to protect you and look after you the way he knows he should and that is his new life goal. This isn’t a decision he has made lightly but a decision he wanted to make.
His hands glide down your sides, trailing over your thighs as his kisses continue, each touch a manifestation of the craving that has consumed him. His need for you is overwhelming, every fibre of his being yearning for you in every possible way. Another moment without you feels unbearable, as if he might die.
You surrender to his touch, sinking back onto the bed as he hovers above you, his grip on your thighs firm yet tender. The intensity of his desire leaves marks, but in this moment, you welcome anything he offers.
It's astonishing how the feel of his lips on yours dismantles your resolve, scattering your apprehensions like leaves in the wind.
Slowly, he removes from you the t-shirt that has absorbed his tears on countless nights and the boxers you borrowed from him, leaving you exposed beneath him. As he looks upon your naked figure, his eyes drink in every curve and contour, offering silent gratitude to the heavens for letting him have you like this. You are everything he wants and more.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Y/N,” he whispers into your mouth as he presses his body hard against yours, his member rubbing itself against your folds. 
The feeling of him rubbing against you is enough to elicit a moan. No amount of toys was enough to satisfy you, not the way Jongseong could. Over the years you learned about one another’s bodies so intimately that no one could ever know you the way he does, not even yourself. 
You couldn’t bear the thought of sleeping with someone else, even if you and Jongseong had broken up, your heart couldn’t do it. You never even considered a one night stand because deep down you knew that your body belonged to Jongseong and no one else.
He moves his hips, slowly rubbing himself against you, the bell of his cock grazing your clit teasingly. It feels like a dream for him to touch you this way again, and the fact that you were coating his cock with your wetness was enough to tell him that you need this too.
Kissing you desperately, his tongue darts into your mouth and swirls with yours as he seeks to taste you, his buds dancing along with yours. He moans into your mouth and acts as an echo of his love for you.
“I missed you so much,” he whispers as his hips continue to move slowly, teasing your hole with his tip each time he draws back. It’s becoming increasingly obvious how much it’s starting to irritate you, your need to have him inside you is evident in your whines of frustration.
"I missed you too, baby. More than anything," you confess, your hand finding his cock as you press against him, seeking to create greater friction between you. With each movement, the pressure builds, sending waves of pleasure coursing through both of you.
With each synchronised movement, the tension between you mounts, the desire for one another lingering in the warm air. His hips continue their slow, teasing rhythm, each brush against your core sending sparks of want up your heat and into your chest.
Feeling the urgency building within you, you guide his cock with precision, pressing it against your eager entrance. A soft gasp escapes your lips as you feel the head of his length dip into you only slightly, the anticipation of being filled with him heightening your senses.
"Please," you whisper, your voice laden with need and longing, a plea for him to take you.
With a teasing grin, Jongseong relents to your plea, but not in the way you expected. Instead of thrusting into you the way you want him to, he trails his fingertips along the curves of your body, igniting a trail of fire in his wake. His touch is light and tantalising, tracing patterns across your skin as he savours every moment. He wants to take his time with you, no matter how much his dick longs to be surrounded by your walls.
You like to be teased even for a little bit, the payoff at the end always hits the right spot.
You squirm beneath his touch, aching for more, but he continues with deliberate slowness. His fingers dance over your heated flesh, exploring every inch of your body with an intimacy that leaves you breathless. Each caress sends shivers down your spine, building the anticipation to unbearable heights. God, you missed his hands all over you.
As his right hand dips lower, he begins tracing circles around your sensitive clit and you can't help but arch your back in pleasure, a soft moan escaping your lips. The sensation is electrifying, sending waves coursing through your body as he expertly teases you.
Feeling your body tremble with anticipation, his touch becomes more urgent as he presses his fingers against your throbbing clit h and with practised skill, he begins to move faster, applying just the right amount of pressure to have you writhing beneath him.
“You look so fucking perfect, all desperate and whiney like this, Princess,” he says as he leans down to kiss you, breathing in deeply through his nose as he tries to fill each of his senses with you. It wasn’t just enough to feel you, he wanted to taste you, to inhale your scent, to hear you cry out for him, to see you unravel beneath him.
Your breath catches in your throat as the intensity of his touch sends you spiralling towards the edge of bliss. Each stroke of his fingers drives you closer to the brink, your body humming with the need to let go.
But just as you feel yourself teetering on the edge, Jongseong suddenly slows his movements, drawing out the pleasure with agonising slowness. It's a torturous tease, the brief moments of intensity followed by long, drawn-out strokes that leave you gasping for more.
“Please, please, please, Jjongie,” you whimper in frustration, your body aching for release as Jongseong continues to play you like a symphony, alternating between fast and slow, building the tension to unbearable levels. Just when you think you can't take it anymore, he finally gives in, his fingers dipping into your heat and thrusting into you at a rough pace, your pussy soaking his digits as he coaxes out your orgasm.
“You’re clamping down on my fingers so hard, Baby, you gonna cum?” he asks arrogantly, knowing that with each curl of his finger, he is watching your body lose control and surrender to him.
Nodding quickly, you pull him down for a long, searing kiss as his thumb joins the party and flicks your clit rapidly, “Oh my god,” you moan out into his mouth through bated breaths, “I’m gonna cum, Jongseong, please can I cum?”
“You never have to ask baby,” he moves his mouth to your ear and lightly nibbles your lobe, “Cum for me, Princess,” he gently commands.
Jongseong continues to work his magic, his fingers moving with expert precision as he guides you through the throes of ecstasy. Your vision blurs and every nerve in your body hums with pleasure as you reach the pinnacle of bliss.
With a final, desperate cry, you let go, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. You arch your back and cry out his name as pleasure consumes you, your body trembling with the intensity of it all.
His fingers remain still inside you, but his thumb maintains its relentless pace, each swipe sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your body. Your hips instinctively twitch in response, your nub throbbing with sensitivity and yearning for a respite. Yet, Jongseong shows no signs of letting up, his determined flicking only intensifying.
"You like that, baby?" Jongseong's voice is hoarse with desire as he intently watches your reactions. His eyes are dark with need as he continues to work you with wild desire. 
Your senses are overwhelmed by sensations pouring through you, so you can only respond with a gasping nod. Every single nerve in your body is buzzing with ecstasy, and all you can think of is the delicious agony of his thumb against your delicate clit.
"Tell me what you want, Princess," he asks, his voice a seductive whisper in your ear, "Do you want more?"
You can only make a frantic plea, your words barely comprehensible in the middle of intense pleasure. "Yes, please, Jongseong... More..."
Jongseong's lips curl into a wicked grin as he hears your plea, his confidence growing with each breathless gasp that escapes your lips. With a teasing twinkle in his eye, he moves his fingers again, pressing them against your contracting walls, his hot breath ghosting over your ear as he speaks.
"What do you want, Y/N?" he whispers, his voice dripping with anticipation, "Tell me, and I'll give it to you."
Your mind is a haze of desire, but amidst the fog, one thought stands out clear and demanding. You need him inside you, filling you completely with his presence. With trembling hands, you reach for him, your fingers curling around his cock, guiding him to where you need him most, pushing his hand out of the way.
"I want you," you whisper, your voice trembling with need. "I want all of you, Jongseong." When you utter the words, there’s a deeper meaning to them, a meaning that Jongseong is clinging to.
The way your fingers wrap around his rock-hard member elicits a hiss from him, your touch mixed with your words only fuels him to give you everything you need. 
Jongseong lets out a guttural groan, entirely surrendering to your touch and words. His eyes darken with want as he watches you take control, and his breath quickens with anticipation as you guide him inside you. His breath coming in ragged gasps, he looks into your eyes with a mixture of desire and adoration, "God, Y/N," he murmurs, his voice rough with need, “You feel so fucking incredible. I’ve missed how you just suck me in like this.”
You look down and watch as his entire length gets lost in your heat, his cock’s head hitting deep within you. You’ve missed how he fills you up so much but you hadn’t realised just how badly until right now as he shallowly thrusts into you.
You respond with a low moan of pleasure, your nails digging into his skin as you pull him closer, urging him to go deeper. "Yes, Jongseong," you whisper, your voice laced with longing, "just like that. I need this so much, I need you."
With each thrust, he grunts in response, his movements becoming more desperate as he seeks to satisfy your every desire, "I'm yours, Y/N," he declares, his voice filled with raw emotion, "completely and utterly yours."
As he lifts your legs and closes them, gently draping them over his left shoulder, your warmth envelops his shaft, drawing him in closer. Jongseong relishes the sensation of your tightness, revelling in the snug embrace of your canal around him. And you too find delight in the pressure of his girth, relishing the way he stretches you further with every powerful thrust.
Each movement of his hips is deliberate, each one designed to bring you both closer to the edge of ecstasy. As his hands stroke your legs tenderly, contrasting with the intensity of his thrusts, you find yourself lost in the intoxicating rhythm of your bodies moving as one.
His jerks grow more intense, the pace quickening as he drives deeper into you, each stroke bringing you closer to the edge, "You feel so good," he groans, his voice filled with unrestrained passion, "so fucking perfect for me, Princess."
In response, you curve your back and meet his thrusts with equal conviction, the heat between you building to an almost euphoric level. "Jongseong," you exclaim, your voice a symphony of fulfilment, "don't stop, please don't stop."
Jongseong intensifies his efforts with a wild growl, each movement driven by a burning need to push you to the edge of satisfaction and beyond. At this moment, there is only you and him, burned by the fires of passion.
With a swift motion, your lover bends you in half, positioning your legs by your head as he quickens his already rapid pace. Lost in a whirlwind of desire, your eyes roll back and your hands instinctively grip his shoulders, your chest heaving with each forceful thrust of his cock. Your nails dig into his skin, leaving marks on his shoulder blades as you cling to him, lost in the intensity of the moment.
Feeling the sting of your nails, he grits his teeth and strains his neck, the veins in his temples pulsating as he fights the overwhelming urge to release inside you right then and there.
“Fuck, claw my back, Baby,” he growls, his voice thick with desire, “make me yours again.” With determination, he continues to pound into you, each movement bringing you closer to your shared orgasm.
After hearing Jongseong’s go-ahead, you dig into his back, dragging your nails across his skin, leaving fiery red lines in their wake, just like he wants. It burns him in the most delectable way, making his cock throb inside of you.
Your breaths combine in the air, creating an ensemble of desire as you both reach the edge. The tension between you grows with each thrust, a crescendo of want reaching its peak.
As he slams into you furiously, his voice fills the room with urgency, "You gonna cum again, Princess? You want it?" His words are a mixture of want and domination, starting a fire inside you that threatens to consume everything in its path.
With a firm nod, you meet his gaze, your eyes brimming with want. "Yes, Jongseong, please," you beg, your voice a frantic appeal for release once again.
In response, he increases his efforts, his motions growing more frenzied as he propels you both to your orgasms. And then, with a final, strong thrust, you shatter, your body convulsing from the ferocity of your release. Jongseong follows closely behind, his own climax mirroring yours as he finds release within you, “Fuck!” 
His body stills as he shoots his seed into you, the tremble of both your bodies vibrates the bed beneath you. Finding it hard to keep himself up, he falls onto you, moving his cock into you further, only drawing out a final moan from your lips.
After a couple of minutes, Jongseong rolls over, his chest heaving up and down rapidly. God, he missed the way you feel under him, he could go another ten rounds if you asked. 
But that would mean you would stay, and is that even something you want? He doesn’t want to ask, your answer being the deciding factor of whether he goes on his life with misery or happiness.
He knows he can’t force you into this relationship but he hopes he has done enough to convince you that you are all he wants.
“Please be with me again, Y/N. I can’t live without you,” he whispers into the air, not daring to look at you.
You on the other hand only want to look at him, to see if you can really try this again, “Even if it means no kids? No playdates with other parents? No family trips to Jeju?”
“Even without all that.” He does look sincere, his eyes now burning into yours with a new lease of determination.
The truth is, you’ve missed him so much that it hurts. Behind the strong facade is just a girl who misses her lover. Being without him is like being in a fire with no escape, constantly fighting your way out of a blaze while your lungs collapse. He’s the clear path to fresh air you desperately need, there is no denying it. And clearly, he thinks the same about you. 
Seeing him last night so fragile and broken engulfed you in the flames, burning you alive because you know that you feel every ounce of hurt that he is. It was a mirror to how you were feeling and you don’t think you knew how badly you needed him until that moment. You were trying to be so strong about it all, giving yourself only a short amount of time to grieve that as you looked at Jongseong last night, you know he has done the same.
You need one another to extinguish the fire.
“Jongseong, truly think about this, this isn’t me saying no to letting you go on a lads holiday, I’m denying you the opportunity to be a father,” you plead with him one last time, giving him an out to all of this as you lay it all on the table.
“Princess, I have had seven months to think about it. I am not compromising or altering my needs for you, this is a decision that I have made on my own. If I truly wanted the life I thought I did, I wouldn’t be begging you to be with me right now. I know this isn’t an easy choice but I have never been more sure about anything in my life.” 
Jongseong kisses all over your face, each one a receipt of his sincerity.
His words strike straight into your heart. He’s serious. A part of you wants to still feel guilty like you’re forcing him into this but on the other hand, he’s right. You’ve given him a multitude of opportunities to leave and find a girl who will cater to him, but he hasn’t. 
He doesn’t need to because all he needs is you and your love, to Jongseong, that is all he needs in his life.
“Okay, but if you ever change your min-”
He interjects with a kiss, one filled with so much happiness and love that it’s almost intoxicating; either that or all the booze in his system has transferred its way into your bloodstream. 
You giggle as he rolls over on top of you again, peppering loud and wet kisses all over your face and neck akin to a dog licking you from utter joy. Your hands try to fight him off playfully, your laugh growing louder as he nuzzles into your neck.
“Oh, wait!” Your lover's sudden pause catches your attention, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he swiftly rolls off the bed and rushes over to the messy pile on the chair by his dresser.
Curious, you crane your neck to see what he's up to, watching as he retrieves something from the floor.
“What is it?” you inquire, intrigued by his enthusiasm.
Turning back to you, Jongseong holds up the familiar torn sheet of paper that you recognise instantly, his smile lighting up his face. He grabs a pen from the desk and returns to your side, handing you both items.
“Tick it off,” he urges, pointing to the bottom of the page where a new addition was made yesterday morning. Despite his internal conflict about the list, he couldn't bring himself to tear it up. If he never saw you again, this would be a precious memory to hold onto.
So he added a new aspiration at the bottom.
Taking the pen from his hand, you read it slowly, “Make Y/N mine again..”
You gaze up at him in awe, understanding the significance of this gesture and how much the list means to him, “You wished for this?” you ask, to which he simply nods at your question, “Then you need to tick it off.” You push the pen and paper back to him but he stops you.
“No, you made the wish come true, so you need to tick it off,” he replies, the corners of his lips upturning slightly.
So with the pen, you draw a line over the words, scoring it off once and for all as you beam proudly, happy that both of your souls are now joined together again. You pull him in for a long, deep kiss, the bucket list discarded as you lose yourselves in the moment once again.
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