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callmewrinkles3 · 8 months

Text

Long story short - DR3 x Fem!OC

Masterlist.

Summary: Summer break 2023 means a trip back to Perth to see how construction is going on the farm and but especially to spend Em’s birthday with family.

Warnings: Mentions of past abusive family dynamics, mentions of sex, past pregnancy loss.

Words: 6k

A/N: Hey hey! We know you’ve missed oneshots so here’s Em’s birthday for you to enjoy. We may have cried multiple times writing this, just very normal. It was pretty great lol. Hope you enjoy it and let us know what you think! All our love, Alex and Cíara.💜

August 2023

The summer break every year - with the exception of 2018 and 2020 - had involved being in the States. It was usually LA and sun for a few days, or a week somewhere in the mountains for Dan to do altitude training to prepare for races like Brazil and Mexico. But that summer things were different. With the farm construction happening fast thanks to the baby’s due date coming so soon, and Blake and Charlie being adorable, the three of them were flying back home to spend the full two weeks of the shutdown in the Australian winter. It was still milder than a European one, Em giggling as the boys changed into thick hoodies before ending the journey that had started in Italy.

Dan wanted to take full advantage of the time off, conspiring with Charlie to plan Em’s thirty third birthday. She knew it was happening and just let him plan it. Even with her dislike of parties she knew Dan wouldn’t go too overboard, so she just laughed and told him to do what he wanted. Having it surrounded by people felt strange. The year before had been just the two of them in their little bubble, and before that it had always been with Dan. She hadn’t had her parents involved since she was ten and had her final birthday party before secondary school. Because she was a summer baby her parents had acted like she didn’t need a party. The kids in school wouldn’t realise there was no party to be invited to.

She insisted it wasn’t necessary to organise anything but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Dan wanted his pregnant wife to be as happy as she could be before the chaos of the last half of the season happened so it was a full thirteen days surrounded by their people before the flight back to Faenza.

Em had to admit that it was a perfect idea. Ever since she’d found out about the pregnancy and told Grace she needed her mother there for all the questions she had. It was a blessing to spend time and to ask the questions she was embarrassed about - even when Michelle butted in and made jokes at her expense. It was there with her family and she felt good. She could call either of them any time that she wanted but it was no substitute for actually being there. She needed the hugs and physical contact that only a mum could give.

What Em had needed the entire time was for the woman who’d promised to love her as her own to wrap her in a cuddle and remind her that everything was going to be fine. That she was going to spend Christmas with her beautiful newborn baby girl. And when Grace said it Em believed it.

They got to spend the two weeks with family and eating good food, being looked after before the world could intervene. That’s what Grace and Joe had always done for Dan and they pulled Em into that world, looking after their kids when they needed it the most.

But the best thing about staying with her in laws and not the building site that was currently their farmhouse was getting to stay in Dan’s childhood bedroom. Grace hadn’t redecorated since he’d left for Italy half his life ago, the old school NASCAR posters on the wall and karting trophies on shelves. The photos of his family and friends were there to surround Dan with reminders of his childhood. Em refused to mention the one of Dan and Michael on their school football team that had disappeared when she was in the shower one morning. She couldn’t ruin their time at home talking about something like that. As far as she was concerned the picture was never there. It was the same way they were all pretending Michael had never been in their lives. Grace and Joe knew better than to ask about him.

That whole situation hurt a little less every day, but it still ached. It was easier when they weren’t in the paddock. The plan was to spend more time in Italy so Dan could be at the factory more where Michael wouldn’t really be. In London and Perth they could avoid his neighbourhood and the places he liked to go. But race weekends it was impossible. They shared the same garage, the same hospitality. They turned left to go into Dan’s driver room at Budapest and Spa and knew that he was the other side of the too flimsy wall having turned right. They could and did run into him at any time. Em wanted to tell him how she was, how the baby was. How his niece was. But Lulu wasn’t going to be his niece. She wasn’t going to even know him. It gutted Em that her brother wasn’t in her life anymore but he’d made his decision and it didn’t hurt as much. But it hurt the most during the parties Dan held in Perth.

The first one was ridiculous and unexpected, held two days after they arrived in Australia. It was part Charlie’s idea and part Dan’s, the decision made between them to celebrate Blake and Em. Neither of them realised that it was happening when they arrived back at the Ricciardos that afternoon. Blake had brought her to take a look at kitchen fittings for the farmhouse, the plan to bring Dan back to look at her top picks before they were put into the rebuilt kitchen. She was getting the kitchen of her dreams and she was taking advantage, copper fittings and marble countertops on the wooden cabinets. There was all the storage she wanted, the plans were ready for her to show Dan and see what he thought. It was their forever home and she couldn’t wait.

She arrived back to Grace and Joe’s to their family there, Charlie’s brother Cal and his boyfriend standing near the back nervously. Blake’s parents had flown out to be there too. Dan stood on a rickety kitchen chair, his hand on Blake’s shoulder to stay steady.

“I’m usually good at saying stuff but this is really hard. The last…the last year or so has been really hard. And there’s two people who could have walked away but didn’t, and this is to make sure they know how loved and appreciated they are. Blake, you’re my brother. You more than anyone else had a reason to yell at me and tell me to get my shit together - sorry Ma.”

“Just this once!” Grace called as Dan collected himself.

“Emmy, you married me and you love me and we’re having a baby and I still don’t know why you decided to stay through everything that was said about you. But you are the best woman I’ve met in my life, and I love you to pieces. You know. But this is just to say thank you to all of you for being there and helping. Cause I wouldn’t be in a seat again without you all.”

It was scattered applause and Em reached for her husband to give him the biggest hug, pulling him tight for a moment as Lulu kicked against him.

“You’re gonna be the best dad, Dan. We love you so much. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

The words were completely true, even with everything that had happened. The emotional and physical pain. The embarrassment being turned away from the paddock in Spa the year before thanks to stupid mind games. The hospital visit and the therapy and the near screaming match with her parents. Because they were home with their baby coming soon and in love. It was hard and worth it.

She spent that day swapping between Isaac and Isabella on her knee, Cal and Ryder taking the other child and playing. The last thing she said to Cal before he left was that Ryder was a keeper, watching the younger man blush. He was a sweetheart like the rest of their family.

Blake and Charlie were the last ones to leave, hugs to everyone the order of the day. Finally they left, Em going nearly straight to bed to sleep thanks to missing her usual afternoon nap.

Em told Dan not to make a huge fuss of her birthday, that a relaxing day would be fine. But she knew really that there was no chance her husband or family would let her birthday pass like that. It was the one day where they could shower her with love and affection without her complaints so they took full advantage.

She woke up that morning to Dan covering her in kisses, pulling her in for slow birthday sex that had them both gasping for breath and desperate to keep quiet. Her husband held her even tighter for a few moments before they got up, Dan leading her to the kitchen where Grace and Joe sang Happy Birthday as she came in. There were pancakes and bacon waiting for her with a candle lit on the top of a lavender iced cupcake. She started tearing up immediately, not even attempting to pretend that it was the pregnancy hormones that caused her emotions. It was happy tears. She was happy and loved and that was what she cared about. She and Dan had made it through, and the joy that morning compared to the worry of the previous year was so different.

It felt like a dream compared to the year before, her husband by her side and she was pregnant with their baby. They were getting everything they wanted and life was good. Nobody was taking this from her and she spent her morning curled up against Dan on the couch as he kept whispering how much he loved her, making her grin and kissing her cheeks with each smile.

Nothing had prepared her for the birthday party that Blake, Charlie, and Dan had prepared for her at the Clarke’s farm. Dan led her into the barn where they’d held their wedding, a shout of “SURPRISE” ringing around the room. She loved it so much, lavender decorations everywhere as their families were all there. She started tearing up of happiness again, tears spilling over as Isaac and Isabella came running over to her yelling “happy birthday Auntie Emmy!”.

She honestly didn’t expect gifts from people. Dan had been the first person to give her gifts just because, but there was a table tucked away in the corner with presents for her to open later. It was insane to her how many there were, everyone saying she could open them later. Charlie’s parents hugged her and pulled a chair out to urge her to sit, Em watching as Isaac and Isabella brought over their presents for her.

The first one that Isaac insisted on her opening had Toy Story wrapping paper, and inside was a huge box with everything she could ever want to make friendship bracelets with. They had a tradition to make new ones every time they were in Perth with the kids, weaving thread and beads together to make cute ones. Isaac explained how he wanted new ones, and he wanted them to make new ones for the baby too.

“They’re gonna be teeny tiny cause the baby’s gonna be like Iz’s dolly, but we need them to have lots so they grow!” He explained to Em, clearly happy to have a new cousin to play with.

“You’re so right, Baby. I love it, thank you! You’re gonna come over at the weekend and we can make some before I go back to Europe?”

With a nod and a kiss on his aunt’s cheek Isaac ran back to his uncle Dan, the promise of getting to go look at the cattle on the farm too alluring. Instead his little sister took his spot on Em’s lap, handing over a box wrapped in lavender unicorn paper. Inside it was a bright pink Barbie box. The doll had brunette hair like Em, complete with a travel set. There was a neck pillow, a suitcase that looked like Em’s own one, and everything else Barbie her could need.

“It’s just like you!” Isabella exclaimed as soon as the paper was ripped away and dumped on the other side of the table. It really did nearly look like her.

“Oh my God, I love it.” She kissed her niece’s curly hair, holding on tightly as Isabella pointed out the phone and camera. “Thank you so, so much, Baby girl. I love it so, so much. It’s the best.”

“Can we play tomorrow?” The little girl asked, looking up with big eyes and an angelic face. It was nearly impossible for Em to say no.

“After school, ok? But then we can, promise. And we’ll have some more cake, but don’t tell your Mum and we’ll make sure to save some for her.”

At the start she didn’t ask why a Barbie doll, it came from her niece and that was what she cared about. But while during the party Isabella kept asking about the baby and patting Em’s tummy, she couldn’t stop wondering why. Once Isabella was safely occupied with one of Charlie’s nieces she decided she had to ask, walking over to her sister in law and getting the words out. As soon as Michelle began to speak Em regretted asking.

“We were in the kitchen and she came to tell me and Mum that you come up with the best stories for the Barbies while you play, but you never had one growing up so you didn’t have a favourite Barbie. She thought because you travel so much Travel Barbie would be your favourite. I couldn’t say no, Em. I’m sorry you never had one.”

Em never thought Isabella would remember that single conversation. It was months ago, the week before her wedding. If she’d realised Isabella would think about it she wouldn’t have said it.

Part of the therapy that Mildred was working on with her was giving her that allowance to be a kid. She’d never gotten to be, but Mildred told her to do the things she wanted to. Spend time with her niece and nephew and play with them. She’d made a bundle of friendship bracelets before seeing Taylor Swift as part of it. So when Isabella asked if she wanted to play Barbies Em said yes immediately.

She and Dan were on babysitting duty, the four of them were downstairs playing with Isaac’s cars. Instead of playing he and Dan had fallen asleep thanks to exhaustion and a sugar crash from the final wedding cake tests. The two girls were alone and Isabella pulled Em upstairs before taking out a Barbie carry case and asking Em to do braids in Skipper’s hair.

It was while Em was twisting the slick strands of plastic hair when Isabella asked her about her favourite Barbie as a kid. She couldn’t tell the truth and break her niece’s childhood. The truth was that her parents thought dolls were ridiculous and she was never allowed to have them growing up, that she had puzzles and non fiction books. Even fiction books had to be by certain authors or she couldn’t read them because they wouldn’t “develop her brain”.

The short answer, the easy one, was “Oh, I didn’t have any Barbies.” Followed by asking if Isabella wanted her hair to match Skippers and a child sitting in Em’s lap to get her french braids put in the subject matter was closed. She was convinced that Isabella had forgotten about it. The next topic of conversation was how pretty her flower girl dress for the wedding was and how she looked “like a fairy princess” in it. But she hadn’t.

Her thoughts were pinned on the topic after she spoke to Michelle. Em went mostly through the motions for the rest of the party, hugging her friends and talking to everyone. Chloe and Scotty made a surprise appearance for her, a giant hug and a promise that Em was coming out with Chloe and Charlie in a couple of days for lunch.

The box with the doll stayed in her hand and all she could imagine was a couple of years time when her daughter started playing with it. She couldn’t imagine having a baby, going through pregnancy and labour to not even want the result. To never really want a baby like her parents never wanted her. Even thinking about her baby girl not having the entire world hurt so much it made her want to cry. It was still four months until she’d arrive and Em and Dan would do anything to keep her safe and love her. Her nursery in London was ready to go, the last thing a photo collage Em wanted to make of all the adults who would love Lulu. The only reason her room in Perth wasn’t ready was because of the construction, but the furniture had been delivered and was sitting in an outbuilding. They already had enough to fill the playroom and the nursery even though Lulu would sleep in their room for the first few months. The travel arrangements were ready to go. They even had Lulu’s luggage all set.

Em had never really understood how someone couldn’t love their own child, but as she counted down the days to her due date it was even harder. She knew there was reasons why, she knew some people weren’t pregnant in good situations. But when she was pregnant and married and had tried for a baby? It was irrational to her that you wouldn’t want that child.

But while the birthday party continued she refused to let herself go there. She wouldn’t let herself think about why her parents were the way they were and how much that hurt. And she definitely wasn’t thinking about how the last time she came home from this room her former best friend had left her life in the most unceremonious of ways. That wasn’t raining on her parade, not today. So she walked over, hugged her husband, whispered how much she loved him and how thankful she was for the wonderful day she was having.

“Remember when you weren’t the party kind and I had to drag you anywhere?” Dan joked, kissing her cheek as she smiled.

“I reckon you were the one who dragged me to different ones ever since we met. But you know me, Dimples. I still don’t like big things much but this? This is nice. These are the ones I like.”

Even at 33 she hated when she was the centre of attention and people sang happy birthday to her. She wasn’t sure if anyone actually liked being surrounded by friends singing off key and out of tune, but for the first time it didn’t feel weird. The people who were around her had been supporting her through every single good and bad moment in the last five years. They loved her no matter how broken or weird she felt. They made sure that she knew how loved she was, no matter what. Every single person had wormed their way into her heart when she’d tried to keep people out. So when the singing ended and she took a deep breath to blow out the birthday candles in one breath she had one wish in her mind. To keep every single person in this room in her life forever.

The winter meant the sun was setting early, exhaustion hitting Em hard. She’d needed naps more and more since she’d become pregnant and this was the second time in a week that she hadn’t had one. After her third yawn and as the kids were getting cranky they all decided to head home. It took Dan to make her sit down and not help clear up, Charlie’s parents half shooing them out of the barn warning that the cleaning was sorted, to go home and rest. Joe drove them back, Grace in the front seat as Em rested her head against Dan’s shoulder and half dozed while the other three made conversation in low tones.

Her husband had to shake her to wake her up when they got back to the house, Em stretching as she undid her belt. It was tempting to stay and sleep in the car, but her back was sore enough after a night in a comfy bed. Sitting up in a car would be worse.

Dan didn’t want to wake her when they arrived back at the house, but it was safer for her to get out of the car on her own instead of Dan lifting her out. He helped her up and closed the door behind her.

“Did you have a good day, Kiddo?” Joe asked a half awake Em as they walked back into the house. Dan’s arm was around her waist to help keep her up and stop her from tripping up with tiredness.

“Best birthday of my life. You didn’t need to do it, but thank you for doing it for me.”

“It’s what you deserve, Darling,” Grace insisted. Her mother in law pushed a kiss to her forehead before Dan brought Em up to bed.

Before they made it into their room Dan dragged her into the bathroom, getting Em to sit on the toilet as he took her makeup off fully and helped rub her moisturiser in. She was too tired to do it, almost deciding to just sleep without washing her face. But as delicately as possible Dan wiped it off, using crouching in front of her as an excuse to stroke her cheek and steal kisses from his wife.

Once they were ready to go to bed Dan lifted her off the toilet and across the hallway to deposit her on the bed, Em giggling at his actions. It didn’t take long for him to pull her dress and leggings off, replacing them with clean underwear and one of his old, worn shirts that was soft enough for Em. She laughed as he kept stealing kisses from her as he pulled the shirt over her bump, rubbing gently

“I’m lazy and sleepy but I can still change my clothes on my own, Babe.”

“You know very well that I love undressing you. Even if you actually have to wear something to bed because we’re at home.”

If they were in the apartment or even on the farm they wouldn’t be wearing anything. The skin to skin contact in bed always made Em relax and help her sleep better but considering they were at Dan’s parents they had to be semi decent. Em wore one of his shirts and Dan would at least keep his underwear on. Even when he complained more than once.

“Any excuse to see me naked, right?” Em smiled before kissing his cheek and finally laying down to be able to rest. “C’mon Dimples, your wifey is exhausted. Come to bed.”

She patted the mattress beside her to wait for Dan to crawl into the bed and she could get into his arms. She knew it’d take him longer to fall asleep than her. Every night since she’d gotten that positive pregnancy test he’d started his own little night time ritual of telling the baby a story while kissing and stroking her bump. He wasn’t joking about wanting to be a hands on dad, so since day one he did everything in his power to connect with their baby. It didn’t matter how long was left until she was in his arms, he wanted his daughter to know who her daddy was from day one.

From all the things he did or could do those five or ten minutes as they wound down for bed were some of his favourite of the day. Most nights Em stayed awake listening to what her husband was saying while she read. Other nights like this one she fell asleep easily and left her loves to have their late night chats.

“Before I get in I have one last thing for you.” Dan pulled a colourful Happy Birthday gift bag that was hidden in the bottom drawer of the wardrobe. “I know you’re going to say I’ve given you too many gifts, but it’s your birthday and our anniversary so birthaversary rules mean I get to spoil you. If you let me I’d spoil you every day. I’m so lucky to get to love you and be your husband. I couldn’t say this earlier cause I’d start crying, but I just…thanks, Emmy. I couldn’t do any of this without you. And you’ve made me the happiest man in the world. I love you.”

“I love you too, Danny. So much. Marrying you is the best thing I ever did. And this better not be lingerie that won’t fit me anymore.” He laughed at her words and handed over the bag, sitting up beside her in the bed. It was six years of being around Dan, of him getting overexcited and determined to spoil her rotten at all times. She’d jokingly complain about how he got her too much, but he was like that for everyone. She learned to get used to how Dan showed his love with gifts and making life easier for people. This was another one of those occasions so she sat up on the bed with a pillow supporting her back, looking at her husband as he smiled.

“You’re the hottest mama in the world, Baby girl. But no, it’s nothing like that. Just open it, ok?”

The second Em opened the bag and saw the stuffed crocodile inside she started crying. Pregnancy hormones couldn’t be blamed for these tears.

When she was three her parents brought her on a trip to a holiday camp in Wales. She barely remembered any of it apart from a little playground beside the pub there, but it was the kind of place that was where they could take her for a weekend to prove how normal they were. An hour from Liverpool, two nights and enough photos to prove they took their daughter away on holiday.

One of the few things she did remember was how much she loved Captain Croc, the crocodile mascot that wandered around. They’d gotten her a teddy, the first one she remembered having. He was vivid green and yellow, blue dungarees with yellow interlocking Cs and big white eyes. He was her comfort toy, hugging him in her tiny arms and bringing him everywhere until she started primary school.

She thought she remembered the feeling of having a new best friend to play with and make up games. Now she knew it was probably her brain trying to make a memory to help her cope with a messed up childhood.

The one definite memory that Em did have was how thirty years later she watched her husband tear up as he looked at a photo of her tiny self holding Captain Croc. Dan held it together until they made it back to the hotel after they left her parents house with the final box of things she was taking. Once they were in that room he started sobbing because he didn’t understand how nobody was there to hold that little girl and tell her how perfect she was. He sobbed because he knew that it was one of the few really happy moments she had in her early childhood. Not that she realised that it should have been better then.

But above all Dan sobbed because that’s what their baby might have looked like. It was the week after she should have had their first baby. They should have been parents. Imagining how their baby could have been hurt like that by anyone cut him to the core and he sobbed in Em’s arms as she held him and promised that they would do better. They would make sure their baby was so loved. She was used to the casual cruelty of her own parents, the way they used words as weapons. Dan who’d never known anything but support and love didn’t understand it.

This teddy meant more than just a gift from her husband to remind her of a bright spot in her life. It was the reminder of slowly healing wounds that still weren’t fully scabbed over. That photo had opened them up more again, and the teddy reminded her more. The day she told Dan the story he held her as they both sobbed. He’d have done anything to have a little girl who looked just like his Emmy. Anything to see his Emmy holding their mini me baby but life was unfair and cruel. Instead of holding their baby that day they held each other, promising that one day it was going to happen. They were going to get to have their family and be happy, no matter what.

But in the final hours of her birthday, thirty one years after she first held her teddy, Em started sobbing again. She had no idea how Dan had found an exact copy of the Captain Croc she’d loved so much but he did. Hers was too delicate, kept in a box in the apartment in London to be shown to her kids as a memento. But he’d found a brand new one, making child and adult Em sob with happiness.

“I knew that a certain little lady wanted to give you a Barbie because you never had one, so I thought that Barbie could do with having a friend. And in a couple of years when our little lady is able to she’ll want to play with them too.” Dan helped Em pull him out of the bag. It should have been easy but her hands were shaking so badly that she couldn’t get him out fully.

The adrenaline and relief flowing through her body made her shake like a leaf in Dan’s arms. Em didn’t know how she had gotten this lucky. She had friends who flew hours to see her for her birthday, a family who loved her enough to make a big deal of her. And the most loving and caring husband in the world. She still didn’t know what she did to deserve it and get it, but she was so thankful for it. It was yet another day where even with everything that had happened, even with the way her parents acted and her family was it was worth it because she had Dan. She’d have done it over and over if this was the result. She was married to the love of her life, she was having their baby, and they were happier than she thought possible.

It took longer than she expected to calm down her sobs, Dan holding onto her tightly. He ran his hand against her back, whispering how much he loved her in between pressing kisses to her face and head. It was whispers of how proud he was of her, how much he loved her, how wonderful she was. And most importantly how he knew that their baby loved her already.

“Marrying you a year ago was the best decision of my entire life, you know that, right?” Em whispered, her voice still shaking with sobs. “Y’know, right?”

“I know. We’re still a couple of hours away from exactly a year.” Dan checked his watch, it was ten in Perth, two in London. This time a year ago he was waiting for Em to come back and pick out wedding rings with him before their four pm appointment.

“Happy anniversary, my Love. It was the best idea we ever had.”

Her birthday overshadowed the fact that it was their first wedding anniversary. A year ago they were running around London, Em buying her wedding dress in Marks and Spencer as Dan wore a suit she loved him in. The two of them standing in the registry office in Kensington and promising to love each other, desperate to keep the other happy and get through the next few months together.

It was hard to believe that 365 days had passed since she finally became Mrs Ricciardo. She loved it. She’d loved being his wife every single day, even the horrible ones. It was a year where she’d woken up at her husband’s side every single morning and she could never take it for granted.

“Happy anniversary, Baby girl. You and our little one here are the greatest things that ever happened to me,” Dan whispered as he pulled her up, close enough to finally give Em a kiss while he rubbed her bump.

“Happy anniversary, Danny. Here, for you.” Em reached across and pulled the wrapped package out from under the bed. She’d been wracking her brain about what to get him, but in the end it was an easy decision. Dan opened it quickly, Em watching as he realised what it was.

Traditionally the first anniversary was paper, and she found someone on Etsy who made star charts of the night sky on important dates. It was the sky above London the night they met, Monaco the first night they spent together, Spa when they said they loved each other for the first time, and London when they’d got married. The poster was their important moments highlighted and she saw the grin spread across his face.

“You are amazing. Thank you. This is…it’s everything.” He put it to the side as he pulled her in, holding her as she began to lull to sleep.

“You know what’s crazy? Next year we’re gonna be celebrating our birthdays and anniversaries with her.”

“That’s all I want. The three of us snuggled up together doing nothing all day.”

Em couldn’t help but smile, imagining how it would be to wake up with their baby and her husband right there. No plans needed except spending the day with the loves of her life. She didn’t want anything else and it felt greedy to even consider asking to get anything else. She got to marry her Dan and love him openly, and their baby was strong and healthy and growing. It was more than she could have imagined.

“We’ll cuddle and eat cake. She better like lemon drizzle. I mean I’ll settle for chocolate fudge if I have to.”

“She might not. I mean I’ve been eating it so much she might hate it. Or she’ll be obsessed.”

“Lulu’s half you, Emmy. She’s obsessed already I think.” Em laughed at his tone, curling into Dan.

“Can I sleep like this?” She asked, hiding her face against Dan’s chest. She felt ridiculous holding Captain Croc in her arms as she could feel sleep hitting her while her husband was holding her tightly. But she felt just as defenceless as the little girl in the photos. The big difference between the Em of thirty years ago was that now there were people who looked after her and hugged her on the bad days. Who made sure she was eating and cared for. She’d never had someone love her unconditionally like that until Dan was in her life.

“Anything you want, birthday girl.”

Em’s wishes were Dan’s commands, so she fell asleep in her husband’s arms, head on his chest as her teddy was between them with Dan’s low whispers to their baby echoing in her ears. It might be immature, a grown woman and soon to be mother getting that comfort, but she wanted and needed it. The rest didn’t matter. She and Dan were happy and that was what was important.

—

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@dr3lover @sabrinaselina55 @majx00 @tall-tanned-tattoo @lovingdennishauger @lauehr @msolbesg @f1medlife @idkwtfimdoing2 @leclercsbae @hiphopdancer101universe @mehrmonga @lewispool @saintandrea-droidsmuggler @coldheartedmar @sugarbabygirlofdaddy @nonsensical-nonce @a-distantdreamer @tita010 @leslizzle @javden @mloyer @saintandrea-droidsmuggler @magical-imagination-kgp @danarysstormborn @kakorrhaphiphobia @g-l-o-b-e-w-h-o-r-e @elizanav @neiich @luckyladycreator2 @scotlynaurora @belledawnidk

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aromanticbuck · 2 months

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Okay I am behind as hell on all One Chicago right now but I have to know bc of your last post tags, Upstead divorce???

Hello!

Yeah, the marriage and divorce (the entire relationship, really) is fairly recent, so if you're behind by a few seasons, it's all wild. But Upstead got married in 9x09 (Jay rushed it because he panicked), and then Jay returned to the army reserves and was sent to Bolivia in 10x03 (Jay made a quick, emotional decision because he panicked), and it was revealed in 11x01 that Hailey sent him divorce papers that they both signed (the only thought out piece of their relationship, actually, and I'm proud of her for standing up for what she needed and making that move for herself) (also fully respect Jay for signing them and sending them back because like... I know we didn't see his side of all of it, and I have THOUGHTS but that's still really mature of him and we don't see the emotionally mature side of him all that often? and we never will again because he's gone but whatever).

Honestly, I didn't finish s10, because... I stopped caring? I'm only watching s11 for Torres and Burzek, honestly. The only OC show I'm fully emotionally invested in is Fire, the other two I'm only here for because of specific plotlines.

And, personally, I had my issues with Upstead's relationship in canon that I've mostly kept to myself and a few trusted friends. I was always happy to see characters I love happy, of course, but there was a lot I would have changed. I really like the (off screen) divorce arc because it feels like the the healthiest decision they've made in this entire relationship. And I'm begging for some on screen divorces in some media somewhere because I'm tired of the narrative that separation is inherently bad. Sometimes people realize they want something different out of life, or simply grow apart, and that's okay.

Anyway, if you see me writing post-Upstead-divorce Moustead fic and only sending it to Kit and Cíara, yes you do.

#answered #grimmducky #alex says things #not tagging this otherwise because i don't feel like being attacked today #but i do have a lot of loud opinions about canon #that's why i don't touch it 99% of the time

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sylvies-chen · 8 months

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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤️

Ahh ok this is so cute I’m glad I was sent this because I feel like I never promote my own stuff on here and wouldn’t unless prompted lol.

Hopelessly Devoted To You - anyone who’s read my stuff has probably read this one, it’s my most popular fic and my first ever AU. I was so proud of this story, and met some of the most wonderful fandom friends through this story

Spinning Out - this is my most severely underrated fanfiction ngl!! I was so proud of this when I wrote it and was in my Burzek feels. I owe @fighterkimburgess for this, who championed this fic for me, like I was writing it solely for you at one point cíara! you were its biggest fan for sure. anyway y’all can pry ballerina kim from my cold dead hands it was glorious.

Violin Concert in D Minor, Op. 47: I. Allegro Moderato - MY KENSTEWY FIC MY BELOVED yes I absolutely wrote a fic because of a violin concerto I’d heard it’s the geekiest thing ever but I lovedddd getting to write college!kenstewy and this was right after the succession finale too so I needed a win (or at least to write a little smut).

Where the Mind Wanders - one thing about me is that I LOVE the “dream sequence where deceased loved ones visit them” trope. think that episode of Sherlock where he gets shot, think 8.15 of Bones, things like that. because you get such an insight into a character’s psyche while also getting feral worried energy from character B who’s in love with them, and it’s just. SO GOOD. so I tried writing that for Chenford because we have yet to experience any true whump from established chenford now that they’re actually together and I wanted to write Tim losing it over Lucy being in danger!!

Love & Metachrosis - listen I love getting to write sort of higher concept fics and getting super creative with it, but this fic is none of that. it’s heartfelt as all my stuff is, but I’m proud of it for its comedy and humour. I genuinely did try writing it as a real scene from a (hypothetical at the time) season 2 episode of OFMD, and added in some comedy in there (I hope) so I’m proud of it precisely because it is super kitschy and silly and fun, but there is still a lot to sink your teeth into and it slowly sinks into the emotional stuff just like the show does. Idk, it was just the first fic I’d ever written for a show that is technically a comedy so I was really happy with the balance!

bonus points for my new chenford AU that I’m writing right now which is probably the best thing I’ve written and my favourite new idea, because I haven’t posted it yet but I still am so excited for it!! Title is TBD but @morganupstead knows what’s up (morgan it’s my superpowers fic and it’s coming along beautifully I totally need to send you the first two chapters or something because you kept me going with writing this)

#abby.answers #self promo #fic recs #fanfic #writing #fanfiction #fic writing #burzek #chenford #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #ofmd #kenstewy

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deanstead · 2 years

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can you please recommend some more jay halstead writers that have a masterlist?

Hello! I assume you are talking about jay halstead x reader!

I definitely always go to my girls @halsteadlover @hereforhalstead for Jay!

I believe @sheetsonfire writes for Jay too, Anna's writing style is *chef's kiss* i read one fic and fell in love!

And of course the best human @fighterkimburgess has had some wonderful Jay fics too (come on it's Cíara, all their fics are wonderful)

off the top of my head.... so im sorry if i missed out anyone else who has a Jay x Reader masterlist, i haven't been doing a lot of reading lately oops.

#resa answers #jay halstead x reader #recs #writer recs

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crockettmarcel · 2 years

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1, 2, 9 (for missing), 37 <3

1 - What’s your favorite character(s) to write for?

definitely Sarah!!! love her <3

2 - What character(s) do you find the most difficult to write for? Why?

the first one that comes to mind is Kim from PD. she's a big part of Missing so I have to write her a lot, but she's impossible bc I haven't watched enough PD lmao (shoutout to @fighterkimburgess for helping me bc I'd be completely lost otherwise)

9 - If you had to assign a theme song to [Fanfic Name], which would you assign?

only one?? I'd probably have to go for Today by Olivia Holt (also you can find the playlist for Missing here if you're interested 💘)

37 - Would you ever collaborate with another writer for a story?

it's not something I've ever really thought of but I guess I wouldn't be opposed to it? also I'd say that anything beyond the basic plot of my fics is collaborative bc I talk through So Many Ideas with Cíara and they make loads of rlly good suggestions, so it's definitely a collaboration in that sense

fanfic writer asks

#ask #thank uuu!!!

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sonderthroughthestreets · 3 years

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122.

Hi!! Thank you to everyone to who sent me 122 @alwaysin-myhead @franboos (according to you 112 = 122 shshdjkjk ly) and anon!! 🥺💕

This one is kind of sad (yes I gave you all fluff it’s time for the sadness to hit skdjjd) but I promise it’s super soft 🥺🥺🥺 they love each other a lot!

122. “Just relax, I’ll wash your hair”

Dialogue Prompts!

Under the heavy covers of sorrow, chilled and frozen, Sander heard the voices muffle. They carried all the way up the stairs just outside his room and maybe it was easier if he pretended he couldn’t hear them, or if he just closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep. Maybe if he closed his eyes hard enough he could fall back asleep. But he heard them all the same.

“He’s been like this for a while now. More than normal. I’ve tried to help him get out, but the usual things haven’t worked,” he heard his mother say.

The voice that spoke next shook him to the core. The one that he loved so much.

“I see,” and Sander squeezed his eyes harder. He didn’t want him to see him like this. “Does he want company right now, though?”

Sander dug his face into the pillow. Any day, any other day, he’d be overcome with such bridled joy to see the face he’d memorized like the back of his hand, drew a million times and etched it into the paper, but today, today he couldn’t handle it. Didn’t have the energy.

“Probably not, but I’m pretty sure you’re the only one he can stand right now,” his mother told him.

“I don’t know, I texted him and left him a voice message, and he hasn’t checked either. Which is understandable, but...”

Sander felt like folding into himself now. He wanted to fold and fold like an origami paper, infinitely fold until he disappeared, until he just ceased to exist. It was a horrible thought that crossed his mind, but he wished he didn’t live in this world where he knew his mother and his father, his friends or classmates, where he didn’t know...

If he could take back all the moments with all the people in his life, the good and the bad, he wouldn’t feel like they were too much and he wouldn’t have to deal with it all. Because right now, it was all far too much to deal with. He was tired. Extremely tired. He just wanted to fold and lose himself in unconsciousness.

“You can always try, Robbe. He loves you so much,” his mother’s voice still came through the crack underneath his door.

Then, he heard a muffled breath as footsteps lightly treaded away and the knob creaked as it turned and the door slowly, finally, opened.

He felt him sit on the edge of the bed and the silence was strangely comforting to him. He could maybe go back to sleep like this. He could just drift into his unconsciousness and stay there for days, maybe forever. He could-

“Sander,” he heard him. “How are you feeling?”

He didn’t mean for this question to irritate him, he really didn’t. But it annoyed him because he could see just exactly how he was feeling. And if he had enough energy he’d tell him. He’d tell him he was tired and that he felt heavy. That his limbs felt a heaviness and his brain felt a fuzziness and all he wanted was to just lay there and not do anything.

“I mean that’s a stupid question,” he heard him laugh bitterly and nervously. “But I had to start with something.”

He felt him shift even closer to him and Sander all of a sudden felt very insecure. Because whether he wanted to admit it or not, he’d been in bed for about a month now and all he’d done is sleep and sleep and barely keep his eyes open as his mother fed him soup and bread, crumbs and stains littered across his bedsheets. He hadn’t gotten out for a shower or to change his clothes, either. He’d sweat through the night under the covers, from nightmares or dreams he couldn’t really remember, the residual body odour lingering in the air. He could smell it himself as he lay there for days. But he couldn’t have been bothered to move or do anything about it. He stayed still as he felt the weight of his hand on his shoulder.

“I love you. And I’m gonna love you whether you’re the wonderful, bright and fun, lighthearted and funny Sander I know or you’re the Sander that can’t get out of bed and needs time to let all this pass.”

Sander wasn’t questioning his love until now. Because all of a sudden it felt like he was being dramatic and maybe this was nothing and he was just tired and lazy and he didn’t deserve someone loving him when he’s like this. Maybe he didn’t deserve anything at all.

“That was my voice message by the way. I was just telling you that I loved you. And that we said we’d take this minute by minute and that hasn’t changed.”

Sander listened to him breathe for a few moments. Waited for him to leave him in solitude. But when he felt the weight on the bed lighten, the warmth of his hand gone, he wanted to call out for him, scream his name pained and broken, ‘don’t leave’. His mouth felt heavy too, his tongue stuck on his palate, his jaw unwilling to move. But he mustered up all the energy he could to speak his name, his voice raspy and deep and cracked from being unused.

“Robbe,” he said.

“I’m here,” he replied. “I’m not going anywhere, just closing the door,” he clarified as he quietly shut it. Then, he came to sit next to him again. “What do you want to do this minute?”

He wanted...

He just wanted Robbe.

And Robbe seemed to sense that.

And so it went like that, them going minute my minute.

In this minute, Sander would try to keep his eyes open. He saw Robbe dressed in his dark sweatshirt and jeans.

In this minute, Sander would try to sit up.

In this minute, Sander would try to turn and let his feet touch the cool ground, soothing him almost like a balm. Sometimes it takes him more than a minute.

“I could get some fresh clothes for you,” Robbe said. “You can just change into them if you don’t wanna take a shower.”

Sander slowly nodded, the knot in his throat hard to swallow. Even harder when he knew Robbe was looking at him with warm, patient eyes. He felt him take his hand and kiss it before getting up to open his closet and fish out a grey t-shirt and new sweatpants. Sander gripped the edge of the bed, looking to the side with his jaw clenching.

He couldn’t believe Robbe was the only person that could get him out of this. That he had to come over here and get him out of this. To think that he was forced to come and be some sort of caretaker when his own mother couldn’t even get him out of bed.

But when Robbe had come over with the clothes and his fingers gripped the hem of his shirt taking it off, he felt his limbs give in to it all. He collapsed under his comforting touch, the intimate way he removed his shirt, looping his arm out through one armhole and then the other. Sander weakly took hold of Robbe’s wrist when he went to grab the clean shirt.

“Think I want that shower,” he mumbled.

Robbe nodded, leaving the fabric.

“Do you think a bath would be better?”

“Maybe,” Sander shrugged.

So, he trudged over to the bathroom while Robbe searched for a towel and carried over his clothes for him. Sander let the water run and leaned against the counter, listening to Robbe walking around outside in his room. He wasn’t sure what he was doing exactly but his mind almost felt too numb to pay attention.

Once he was in the water, he still felt a sense of emptiness, like he still couldn’t feel the warmth of it. Not without Robbe. So, he called for him. And Robbe quickly came in, surveying the sight in front of him.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Sander said softly. “Just...stay with me for a bit.”

So, he did.

Sander let his fingers trail the water, slowly moving his index finger to and fro. Then he sighed a heavy sigh, pulling his legs up to his chest, his chin resting on his knees. The silence was both reassuring and upsetting. Because Sander didn’t have the energy to really talk but he didn’t want it to be like this.

“Talk to me, Robin,” he whispered.

Robbe just crossed his arms as he leaned on the counter now, letting out a chuckling breath.

“I don’t know what to say. I’m not as good as you with talking.”

But he’d left his post at the counter and made his way over to sit on the edge of the bathtub. He ran his fingers through his wet and matted hair, bleached ends but dark roots diverging out.

“Just relax,” Robbe whispered, his voice a caress. “I’ll wash your hair.”

And Sander let him. Let him get the shampoo bottle, the fruity scent tingling his nose, albeit a little harshly, and let him lather up his hair. Robbe was careful not to get the suds in his ear, but gravity wasn’t particularly interested in letting all the soap stay out. So, he took a bit of water and gently cleansed Sander’s ear. Then he grabbed the shower-head and let the water softly trickle onto his head, washing all the shampoo off.

Sander had never felt such relaxation, his soul feeling a satisfying solace as Robbe’s fingernails scraped his scalp. He was so concentrated in the task at hand, careful and attentive. It made Sander’s heart want to burst, his eyes on the verge of tears.

“I’m sorry,” he said, barely audible.

“For what?”

“For the fact that you have to come here and take care of me. For me just shutting myself away from everyone, including you. For me bothering you.”

Robbe looked at him like there were many things wrong with those sentences, his eyes glistening in the hazy natural light coming from the window. It tinted the whole bathroom blue, fitting for how Sander felt.

“I don’t have to do anything, Sander,” Robbe said, his voice echoing through the walls. He brushed his wetted hair from his eyes, the water dripping and sliding down his nose and his parted lips. “I’m here because I want to be. And because I love you,” his hand traced his cheeks, thumb brushing over the bone. Sander instantly leaned into his touch.

“I love you,” he whispered back. “So, much,” his voice trembled.

Robbe gained closer, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, to which Sander deepened breathing him in. Their lips let loose as their foreheads touched, eyes closed.

Sander was starting to feel something like himself again. He wasn’t all the way, but he was getting there, some semblance of rejuvenation. He was grateful to have Robbe help him and to take this minute by minute like he’d said, patient and non-judgmental.

But most of all he was grateful that he was here. Just like he said. That in this universe...

He was staying with him.

#snapspotter #brenna tag💓#I’m sorry sksjjdjd #but i just wanted to write something other than fluff for a bit bc I feel like I suck at fluff lol #hope you guys like it!!#dialogue prompts #Fran🤠#cíara💫

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felicitysmoaksx · 2 years

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Favourite rheese fic that you wrote and that you read

Hey Anon! Thanks so much for the ask!

So for the fic I wrote, I'm going to go with one that's already out! I think I'm going to go with Never Stop which is part of my Come Back Be Here Series because I love changing one thing within canon and seeing the butterfly effect and it's just so good (But maybe I'm biased.)

For the fic I read, my favorite completed work is probably Moving Back by @fighterkimburgess I can not tell you how many times I've read this fic. It's just so sweet and we have Connor and Sarah supporting each other and anything Cíara writes for Rheese is so amazing.

Now my favorite ongoing work is Taking a Turn by CrimsonRae on AO3 and I just have no words to describe how much I love this story. Trust me I've tried and it comes out incoherently every time. It's so fun seeing their take on Connor and Sarah and I recommend it so very highly. (Though it is rated M so just be aware of that)

It's December and I'm answering End of the Year Fanfic Asks!

#answered #Rheese

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fighterkimburgess · 2 years

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I just woke up and idk I guess part of me thought it was something I dreamt 😂😂😂 now I’m sad all over again. I just hope they do the character justice with him leaving like they can’t kill him what’ll happen with Hailey then (but also I’m secretly hoping he can always come back like Amaro did 😭)

I think everyone’s just in shock rn. We’ll see how we go in the next couple of days.

I’ve decided I’m just gonna enjoy what time we have with Jay Halstead, and take advantage of it.

#and also write some angsty as fuck fic #cíara answers #chicago pd spoilers

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kim-ruzek · 2 years

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No but actually can we talk about Kim's lil smile here because LOOK at her!!! Nestled up against Adam with his arm around her on the steps of their (!) home she looks so happy, so content, so at peace and ohmygod I think I'm gonna die I love that for her (for them !)

#ree has thoughts #burzek #chicago pd #chicago pd spoilers #kim burgess #adam ruzek #I'm spiralling #cíara sent me this screenshot and now I'm spiralling even more #that lil smile !!!!!#Kim's at homeeeeee #god i need to write a meta about the notes the felon sent and burzek sdghjjkk #also you can see their attempt to cover Paddy's tattoo and i love that so mucg

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callmewrinkles3 · 11 months

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Hey, this is the first time I've ever sent a msg on Tumblr but it's just to say that I made an Apple Music playlist based on your Daniel and Emmy story, Call it what you want. I've started reading and I'm literally obsessed cause your writing is jyst so amazing and the storytelling is just so pretty 🩷. It's just for me to listen to while reading but if you want me to take it down I can. I've given credits and your tag in the bio of it and if you want I can private it no problem. Just wanted to let you know haha. This is the link btw: https://music.apple.com/gb/playlist/call-it-what-you-want/pl.u-9N9LvdpFx9kxxzG?ls

Thanks for writing!!!!

So it’s Sunday morning and I’m crying this is so lovely?!?! And the fact that you ordered the songs for how the fics are supposed to be read?!?! It is amazing thank you!!! If people want to listen to it you can listen here.

I (Cíara) actually have a Spotify playlist made for the fic! There’s some stuff that has relevance to other parts, and some songs that mean something to us for the fic but hasn’t been revealed yet. You can listen to that one here too.

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aromanticbuck · 1 year

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I have a new Platt Siblings AU that moodboards have been made for but I didn’t have time to write the blurb last night or this morning so I cannot post them… but I can give y’all a quick rundown? and I can answer questions about it throughout the day?

Actual Siblings AU

they meet as teenagers (Mouse is ~16, Kim is ~14) when Gregory III needs to fix his public image

Kim moves into the house with the Gerwitzes and goes to Mouse’s fancy private prep school

literally no one in the house is happy about the arrangement except for Gregory

I have so many details of this universe planned because I was enabled (thanks Cíara) and I will answer literally anything about this and these kids because I love it a lot

#alex says things #send me things

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sylvies-chen · 3 years

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Page Eighty-Six

Summary: Matt keeps important details of a call from Sylvie and, once they work it out, she reveals that she has a story of her own she’s been hiding.

Warnings: very light smut, sexual references

Word count: 2.7K

A/N: I know this starts out with them having a little spat, but it gets good I promise ;) Also, this was a little shorter than I expected but hey, me finally keeping a fic short shows growth tbh. Love that for me.

•••••

In terms of fights, this one ends up being pretty small.

It’s Matt’s fault, really. Truck had gone on a call early in the morning, one that was supposed to be fairly straightforward. Some squatter had his leg stuck in between the floorboards of some old, abandoned theater. They’d freed him pretty easily and he wasn’t injured so there wasn’t any need for paramedics. But he must have been on something-- which wouldn’t be a surprise, considering it looked a lot like he was living in this abandoned theater-- because he’d gotten agitated with them real quick and started swinging at Matt. He managed to duck a few of his swings but one of them had hit him right on his left temple. It leaves a small bruise but no gash. CPD had taken the guy away soon after, and it fizzled out quickly.

He felt fine-- still does, really. It’s nothing a couple of aspirin couldn’t fix.

So he really hadn’t meant to hide what happened from Sylvie.

He’d made a beeline for his quarters as soon as he got back to write up the report for it, figuring he could just tell Sylvie after. Then, an hour later another call comes in and he gets busy doing the paperwork for that, then Gallo wants to do a pizza run, then Sylvie has an influx of ambo calls. More and more things pop up until eventually, he sort of loses sight of the importance of that call. He starts thinking it wasn’t so bad, and then when Sylvie asks him what happened on the call, he just sort of… leaves out the part about getting punched in the face. He hadn’t intended to lie to her, but he doesn’t want her worrying about him. He’s fine, so he’d kept his mouth shut.

Sylvie finds out close to the end of shift. The bruise finally starts showing up on his head, even though he’s been discreetly icing it the whole afternoon, and she spots it almost immediately. At first, he brushes it off. Gallo comes in the common room at that time though, in perfect harmony with his crap luck, and gives a dramatic reenactment of the call. His gestures had been a little exaggerated, the punches a little more forceful than Matt remembers, but it’d been pretty accurate for the most part, unfortunately. Sylvie looked from Gallo’s reenactment back to Matt, displeased eyes narrowing his way. She pursed her lips and left the room as soon as Gallo finished. It confused Gallo but Matt hadn’t blamed him. This is his fault, not Gallo’s-- no matter how much he wishes it were.

Suffice to say, she hadn’t been happy.

Their fight was pretty tame and, shockingly, no one in the firehouse was around to witness. She’d stood in the doorway of his quarters and had wrung him out about the importance of not hiding injuries from her, how being dishonest is not only something you aren’t supposed to be with someone you love, but how it’s also just generally a stupid thing to do. He took it all, because it was completely fair and valid reasons to be pissed at him. If he’s being honest, he’s mad at himself for it too. He should know better by now than to think he’d be burdening Sylvie by telling him about injuries he gets on calls. Sometimes, he just gets so caught up in the wonder of being able to be with her, of the need to keep her happy and smiling at all times just like he likes it, that he forgets sometimes she needs to have the worry. Worrying is a healthy thing in moderation, after all. It’s not something he should have tried to escape.

It’s why, as soon as shift ends, he drives over to her apartment and practically runs up the steps. He knows he needs to apologize, practically aches to do so. He’s nearly out of breath by the time he reaches her front door, knocking rapidly and getting a response pretty quickly.

Sylvie stands there, holding onto her door. She’s not in her pajamas yet, thankfully, just jean shorts and a loose sweater that drowns most of her shorts, her hair is curled and ruffles at her shoulders, and she looks relaxed but still angry, and just… damn. She’s so beautiful. And he’s so, so sorry.

“I’m an idiot,” he blurts out, before even saying hello. His breathing is heavy and his words draw a surprised inhale from her lips. “I should have told you about the guy punching me on that call today.”

“Yeah, you should have,” she agrees, her jaw still tense.

“Yeah, well, like I said: I’m an idiot. An idiot who loves you more than anything else in the world.”

She gulps, eyeing him hesitantly. He realizes that she doesn’t quite know what to do or say now, so he starts first.

“Can I come in?” Her gaze softens after a moment, responding by wordlessly opening the door and stepping to the side to let him in. He smiles at her bashfully, walking in and moving to the couch. She comes to sit next to him almost right away, still angry, but not fiercely so.

“I shouldn't have kept that from you,” he explains again, his hand moving to her knee and stroking gentle circles across her thigh. She flinches at first, but melts under his touch almost instantly after. “Not at first, at least. It’s not an excuse, I know that, but I just needed you to know.”

“I don’t know why you felt the need to keep something like that from me,” she tells him, her tone wounded.

“I didn’t,” he assures her pleadingly. “But the last time I hurt my head on a call, you ended up coming to the hospital with me. Three times. I just didn’t want you worrying that there would be a repeat of that, that’s all.”

Her frown stays stagnant for what feels like forever, until a small smile creeps up on her face. “My playlist was that bad, huh?”

They both let out giggles at that, Matt’s finally letting his shoulders relax as he inches closer to her on the couch. It feels good to know that she’s not mad at him anymore, and something resembling normal for them is returning. All he wants to do is make her happy, so the relief at doing that again is indescribable. “It was,” he chuckles. “I guess Taylor Swift just isn’t my thing.”

“Don’t you make me angry at you again, Matt Casey,” she warns teasingly. “Taylor Swift is a lyrical genius and anyone who thinks otherwise is lying to themselves.”

“Ok,” he replies sarcastically, still laughing. Sylvie waits until their laughter dies down a little to speak again, moving to put a gentle hand on his arm.

“Look, Matt. I’m always going to worry,” Sylvie continues, getting only slightly serious again. “That doesn’t mean you have to keep things from me. You and I are honest with each other. Always. That’s why this works so well.”

“I know,” he assures her. “I’ll tell you everything next time, I promise. And I’m so sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” she nods after a moment’s thought, a forgiving smile lighting up her face. She moves a hand to caress his face, cupping his cheek as she leans in and kisses him. He closes his eyes, reveling in it for a moment. He can’t help but be surprised. He’s not quite used to resolving things so smoothly with someone he loves, after all. It’s a fucked up thing to admit, but it makes him appreciate the communication he has with her.

“Really? Just like that?”

“Yeah,” she chuckles. “Just like that. I love you, Matt. It’s going to take a hell of a lot more to drive a wedge between us, you know. This was nothing. Besides, we all have stuff we keep from people.”

“That’s cute, honey,” Matt replies teasingly. “I’ve seen you try to keep secrets before. You’re the worst at it by a mile.”

“Hey, there’s a lot you don’t know about me. I have secrets you wouldn’t dream of,” she insists, sticking her chin up at him.

“Like what?”

His question is slightly rhetorical, riddled with disbelief, but he sees her eyeing him cautiously and mulling it over in her head, and he realizes she’s being dead serious. He doesn’t know whether to be concerned or amused by that.

She then decides on something and puts her hand on his leg. The look she gives him feels comically serious. “Okay, I’ll tell you. But you have to promise you won’t tell anyone. Especially not Boden.”

For the first time since she’s alleged that she has serious secrets, Matt’s curiosity is peaked. He gives her an obvious glance, as if to say duh. He’s not going to tell anyone. But he says it out loud just in case. “I promise.”

She then turns away from him for a second to reach for something in the drawer of her coffee table. He can’t make it out from where he’s sitting, but when she turns around and hands it to him, he sees what it is. Resting firmly in the palm of his hand is a book. It’s thin and the cover doesn’t look very official, but he knows the title. And he definitely knows the authors.

He’d recognize his girlfriend’s name anywhere-- as well as the name of his colleague on 81.

His eyes go wide as he reads the title aloud. “Sheets On Fire? As in…?”

“As in the romance novel Mouch and I wrote,” she finishes for him, eyeing him nervously. "Yep. You're not the only one with secret stories." He doesn’t know what to think of this. He hadn’t thought much of this book before, the memory sort of fading, but now that he remembers, well… he really remembers. “That's some secret," he gawks. "I thought Boden said you couldn’t publish this.”

“He did-- we can’t,” she corrects herself. “But Mouch and I may or may not have contacted some underground publishers. We have to use pen names but I had them make an original hard copy with our real names on it. You know, as a little keepsake. It’s actually done pretty well in the world of underground literature, we’ve made some good cash from it. But only you and Trudy know, so you have to keep quiet.”

“Right, of course. Wow,” he awes, processing it all as he opens the book. He remembers hearing a few paragraphs of it before, but never anything concrete. Now, flipping leisurely through random pages of the novel, he can digest everything that’s in here in detail.

And there’s a lot to digest.

He lands on page 86, chooses it at random to read carefully. The scene on the page involves the two main characters, he presumes, getting tangled up in sheets. The love scene is described very poetically, he’ll admit, but it’s also talking about these moves and positions. One of them in particular is complex and intense. He knows Sylvie’s had a lot of experience and so has he. They’re no strangers to sex but this is a different side of her he loves seeing. She knows enough about this one specific move to have written it and it excites him more than it should. It’s… shit. It’s really hot.

“I know erotic novels aren’t exactly everyone’s cup of tea,” Sylvie explains with a nervous wince, pulling his attention away from the book. He’s surprised at how invested he’d already been in that one page alone. “You’re not totally freaked out, are you?”

“No, no,” he dismisses kindly. “Not at all. It’s just… wow. You wrote this?”

“Yeah.”

“Even this?” Matt turns the book and shows the open page. Her eyes scan the page, quickly recognizing the section of the story. He smiles at the blush that heats up on her cheeks.

“Ah, page 86,” she nods knowingly, gnawing at her lip. “Yeah, that one was mostly me, actually. Mouch’s stuff for that particular scene was a little more... standard. And he kept going on these romantic tangents that felt a little too Shakespearian. It was just disrupting the flow so I may have taken over and added some more intricate stuff into the mix.”

“Huh.” He swallows hard, his eyes trailing from the book over to her-- and, admittedly, down her body. “I'm-- I mean it's... impressive.”

“What do you think?” Sylvie eyes him nervously, her eyes expectant and gleaming.

“I think…” he inhales, scratching at the back of his neck before closing the book shut between his hands and placing it on the coffee table. “I think we should probably try what’s on that page. You know, just to make sure your writing’s accurate.”

“Really?” She gives an incredulous smile as her eyebrows shoot up curiously. When Matt nods, her hands move from his shoulders up to drape themselves around his neck. Sylvie gnaws at her lip again, a gesture she knows is sure to get Matt a little riled up, and leans in closer to him on the couch. “Well I think that can be arranged, if only to maintain my integrity as a writer,” she explains teasingly.

“I was thinking the same thing,” he replies, playing along. Because if being with Sylvie has taught him anything, it’s that playing along with her jokes and bits is always the right thing to do. And through that, he’s learned to live a little. Besides, if playing along with her bit gets him things like what’s on page 86, he’ll play along with whatever Sylvie wants. God knows he’d do just about anything for her anyway.

He smiles, but it fades quickly as Sylvie gets that sweet, dangerously wild look in her eye. It doesn’t take long for their lips to lock. It takes even less for her mouth to open, making way for his tongue before he starts running his hands through her hair. She shifts around on the couch, moving closer to him until she slides into his lap. Her leg moves over to his other side so that she’s straddling him and she pauses, only for a moment, to take her shirt off and expose new skin. He does the same, although not as smoothly since he’s pressed against the back of her couch and his shirt has buttons. But she undoes each one of them slowly, pressing firm kisses to his neck as she does so, until just his bare chest is left. Her hands still firmly cup his face by his jawline as their lips push against each other. It’s a motion similar to that of waves in the ocean: crashing together before pulling away, dragging slightly before being pushed back in. He gets completely lost in the motions, reveling in the growing heat between them. She’s practically flush against him and he can feel the heavy rising and falling of her chest against him-- can feel his own heavy breathing too.

He likes that feeling, likes it a lot. So his hands move to her back, stabilizing her and bringing her closer into him to keep that feeling intact. But bringing her closer to him only makes the heated firmness between his legs grow until eventually, they’re both too excited to stay like this. Instead, his hands hold her back firmly as he keeps her close to him as he stands up from the couch, her legs remaining wrapped around his waistline as he moves to the bedroom. Their lips never leave each other the entire time, his lips catching her bottom lip before putting her down on the bed and shifting his weight onto her gently.

He learns pretty quickly after that page 86 is really damn good. And the blonde paramedic wrapped up in bedsheets with him and moaning into his ear, sending waves of pleasure throughout his body, is even better. And if the price for that is honesty, that’s something he’ll pay; willingly, happily, with everything he’s got. Because he soaks in the high he gets with her in bed and is reminded that Sylvie Brett is worth just about anything.

#abby writes #abby.writes #gilbxrt blythe writes #brettsey #fic request #sylvie brett #matt casey #cíara tag

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