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#a lot of things I thought might be passing fancies have ended up that way honestly
victorluvsalice · 1 month
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Helo yes, I just want to say that I found your Forgotten Vows verse again, and also your Secundus verse, because of @thesatiricaldemon 's "Beneath A Broken Sky" and all I have to say is:
... how dare you both, now I have two AU fic ideas that sprouted from them because of inspiration! [Positive] (Actually three, but that one is just an afterthought)
*snrrrk* How very dare we XD But hey, I'm glad that both my fics and SatiricalDemon's have been inspiring to you! Love to know more about what percolating in your head! (And hey, don't dismiss that "afterthought" idea -- my ORIGINAL idea for an Alice: Madness Returns / Corpse Bride crossover after the release of the former was for them to meet after Alice killed Dr. Bumby and Victor had gone through both the "corpse bride" incident and its aftermath, but while I was sorting out that, I had a stray thought of "but what if Victor's parents hadn't believed him and instead sent him to Dr. Bumby to force him to forget the whole thing...and we see where THAT ended up. XD)
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topherwrites · 30 days
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FIC RECS: TOP GUN: MAVERICK - 2!
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Okay, so there was shit I forgot in my year in review rec list. I posted it and a minimum of about 10 other fics immediately came to mind. so, part 2! I also didn't put many WIPs on the first one, but I think currently in progress fics should get some love too. I'll be marking them with an asterisk.
If I made a little comment about every single fic or series here, it would be inhumanely long, so I've refrained from doing so and have just put the summaries for each.
I hope that anyone who reads this list finds something that they love on it just as much as I do! Happy reading!
P.S. If I missed anyone, I'm sorry, there was a lot to sort through!
(P.S.S. reblog the fics you like, it makes writers happy.)
part 1, if you missed it.
SOME OF THESE ARE 18+, PLEASE HEED THE INDIVIDUAL WARNINGS!
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JAKE SERESIN
Parking Lots and Matcha Lattes by @withahappyrefrain
In an attempt to get coffee, you meet a grade A asshole whose head you want to rip off. Meanwhile, Jake Seresin is pretty certain he just met his future wife in the parking lot of a coffee shop. AKA Jake Seresin likes mean women, pass it on.
The Hangman Special by @hangmanssunnies
On a night out with your friends at a fancy cocktail bar, you are just trying to keep your head down and ignore the girl that your ex cheated on you with. The night only seems like it's going to get worse when you are dared to kiss a stranger at the bar. However, it seems like the odds might finally be in your favor when you notice a familiar set of broad shoulders. If you can be convincing, you think you might just be able to get your brother's friend Jake "Hangman" Seresin to help you out with your little problem.
*she is both hellfire and holy water by @chemistryread
you should take it as a compliment, that I'm talking to everyone here but you.
Birds Away by @wombtotombx
You’d known Jake since you were kids, bonding over the shared experience of being military brats overseas. You were the perfect pair - he was reckless, you followed the rules; he didn’t care what others thought, you were a people-pleaser. You both became the best of the best in your field - he through sheer talent and skill, you from demonstrated grit and determination. For over two decades, everyone around you - parents, friends, even teachers - had assumed you’d both end up together, despite the fact that somehow, you never did. The Navy always had its way of keeping you two apart. Whatever possibilities there might have been, it was just never in the cards. Until you got to Fallon.
*The Backup by @ereardon
No strings attached sex never works, right? You and Jake Seresin have fallen into a bad pattern of seeking each other out for sex after dates go awry, but a year of being friends with benefits with Jake hasn’t been good for your dating life. Especially when the two of you are hiding your antics from your lifelong best friend Coyote and the rest of your tightly knit friend group. But what happens when you decide to take a step back and end the cycle with Jake to focus on your dating life? And why is it that all of the sudden Jake looks more irresistible than ever when you know he’s off limits? 
Take Care of Business by @honkytonk-hangman
The last time you met Lieutenant Jake Seresin, the war was still ongoing and you’d been in a floundering engagement. Back then you’d seen the possibility for more in his eyes, and now? Well, now you could explore it.
When Jake Met Polly by @/honkytonk-hangman
Jake likes to flirt with his Air Traffic Controller or Jake Seresin has never seen When Harry Met Sally.
How It's Done (Oneshot Version) by @/honkytonk-hangman
“Like me? I didn’t even think you wanted me as a squadmate, let alone–” you stop speaking, but only because Hangman cuts his eyes sharply away from you to glare out at the ocean. “Well, I do.” He says kind of indignantly, all things considered, and eyes you almost sourly. “You can just say no if you don’t–” “–No, I do!” you quickly cut him off, because at the end of it all, you’re a little too much of a hopeless romantic to let this moment pass you by.
Twenty-Five Going on Forty-Seven by @sehnsuchts-trunken
Flirting with the guy who fixed your car turns out to lead to much, much more when you find out he’s actually not just some random guy, but your new neighbour and father’s new best friend, Jake Seresin.
BRADLEY BRADSHAW
*fever pitch by @greenorangevioletgrass
Arsenal and USMNT captain Bradley Bradshaw attends the mononymous music sensation Y/N's concert with a friendship bracelet and a dream. Little did he know that they soon embark on an epic love story fit for pop royalty...
This Love Came Back to Me by @beyondthesefourwalls
You and Bradley hadn’t ended on bad terms; really, you stopped before the two of you could even truly begin. Still, in the last seven months, you had never completely left his mind. So when you suddenly appeared in front of him at the bar, asking for a favor and pulling him into a kiss, he thought maybe it was the perfect opportunity to see if this time, things could be different. But what neither of you realized was that there’s more going on than just rekindling a lost romance, and it might not be as easy as simply just wanting it.
I Like Your Cinema by @sometimesanalice
Bradley wasn’t sure why you wanted to see the movie again, especially when neither one of you had particularly liked it the first time you’d seen it together. But when you’re tugging down his zipper, things start to make a lot more sense.
‘cause no one breaks my heart like you by @heartsofminds
“Last times always make him uneasy. He thinks that he should be used to it by now from his track record of being abandoned (willfully or “out of their control” situations alike). None of this should hurt him as deeply anymore.” or Bradley Bradshaw is terrified of commitment and he decides to stop being selfish (even though it’s hard to see).
the periphery by @youvebeenlivingfictional
You’d met Bradley a few times before the happy couple had announced their nuptials, and you’d always gotten a pretty good vibe from him. He was sweet, he was easy to talk to—and it helped that he was easy on the eyes. In fact, as soon as you’d been told that Bradley Bradshaw was going to be the Best Man, you were well on your way to having a crush on the guy.
*Hotter Than Texas by @tongue-like-a-razor
Bradley Bradshaw is tasked with transporting a not-so-delicate package in the form of Jake Seresin’s baby sister, who turns out to be Bradley’s dream girl worst nightmare.
*flight risk by @ofstoriesandstardust
In which you and Rooster got married while at UVA for the military benefits. What started out as a mutually beneficial deal between friends years ago turns into a point of interest for Maverick, causing Rooster to have to haul you out to Fightertown to get him to shut up. While Maverick’s fussing over a marriage he didn’t know existed, Rooster’s focused on getting the ball rolling on divorce papers because really, the Navy does not need to be calling some poor girl from his college that he’s died in a horrendous accident. It’s proving to be more difficult than he expected, especially when Hangman and Phoenix take it upon themselves to encourage a friendship to become more. 
How You Play the Game by @roosterforme
Bradley always loved October because of the World Series. He never expected a mix-up with the ticket he won to bring something as spectacular as you into his life. But time is fleeting, and now baseball is the last thing on his mind.
*The Intern by @/roosterforme
You barely have a minute to yourself after graduating at the top of your Ivy League class before your father insists you find an internship. Your days of lounging by the pool and partying are numbered as he has an endless parade of his colleagues visiting the house. But one of them is familiar to you in a way that warms your skin just like the San Diego sun. And it turns out, Bradley Bradshaw may just have the answers to all your problems. And those answers might be waiting for you on a yacht in the Mediterranean Sea.
there was something 'bout you by @bussyslayer333
bradley bradshaw didn’t fall in love, especially not with uptight girls in his english lit class and especially not the ones being forced into tutoring him.
*Ultraviolence by @babyonboard
You and Bradley loved each other, and Jake was just your old friend from high school who you tried to pay no mind to. At least that's how it used to be.
All Too Well by @bradleyfuckingbradshaw
You’re at dinner with your boyfriend and some of his colleagues at a restaurant he chose when you look over the menu and realize there’s no vegetarian option, but he’s too busy with his friends to realize that. Bradley isn’t.
October 3rd Promptober by @familyvideostevie
you go to a tailgate with your friend bradley.
If You Met Me First by @tip-top-cloud-surfer
Rooster confessed to Echo that he was in love with her before the mission. One minor problem: she has a boyfriend.
Home for the Holidays by @mothdruid
Bradley might have lied about having a girlfriend. His best friend, you, decide to help him out and go home for the holidays with him. As the trip unfolds, so does your and Bradley’s feelings for one another.
BOB FLOYD
*I bet this would look beautiful on film by @coridotmp3
Honey desperately needs a photographer, and Bob desperately needs a break.
Robert from Next Door by @attapullman
You've lucked out with the perfect neighbor, a kind and overly helpful WSO. He puts up Christmas lights, lends his lawn mower, and grabs your morning paper. But what happens when he's out of peppermint tea one night?
If Only the Neighbors Knew by @/attapullman
A month of stolen kisses culminates in Robert hosting the HOA meeting and getting you on his couch. The ladies of the neighborhood may make him blush, but only you can make your sweet neighbor weak in the knees.
*Golden Hour by @/ereardon
Willow, Georgia. Barely even a town, just a speck on a map that you tried to wipe off, mistaking it for a crumb. You’re the outsider: a fancy New York doctor, fresh out of a failed engagement, with zero primary care experience. You’re also the new town doctor, taking over for a recent retiree who was beloved. His son, Bob Floyd, is the other physician at the practice, and takes an immediate dislike to you. But you were looking for a fresh start, and Willow doesn’t seem all that bad if you can get past the fact that there's only one restaurant in town. It helps that you've caught the eye of Bradley Bradshaw, the town attorney, despite the fact that you vowed to take a break from dating. How long until you start to make friends in a town where social circles have been set in stone since elementary school? And what will it take to make Bob Floyd see you’re not as bad as he wants to believe you are?
Ruin the Friendship by @withahappyrefrain
The night before Bob leaves for Boot Camp, he’s learned no one has gone down on his best friend. He’s determined to fix that.
International Bob Floyd Fucks Month Masterlist
a january writing event hosted by @/attapullman
Bob from Stats by @/attapullman
College is a wild time, but absolutely nothing could prepare you for the quiet guy from Stats riding around campus as a cowboy. Or what a good kisser he is.
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callmewrinkles3 · 1 year
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All Too Well - DR3 x Fem!OC
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Summary: Saying goodbye is hard. Saying goodbye to your family without telling them it’s a final goodbye is even harder. But Em has come to terms that Dan doesn’t love her the same way she loves him, and leaving on her own terms will hurt less than being told he’s ending things. March 2022.
Word Count: 12.3k
Warnings: fighting, all the angst this bad boy can carry, lil bit of a dickhead!Dan, running away from your friends, mentions of death, mentions of motorsport crashes and deaths, moving without telling anyone, lying to family, talk of medical procedures, frank talks about what people want to happen if they can’t decide.
A/N: We’ve kept you waiting, but we hope this was worth the wait! This part of our story is what started us on this madcap adventure together, and it’s a lot of what makes our beloved Em Em. Thank you in advance!
Em stared at the two boarding passes in front of her as she sat in the fancy Heathrow lounge, a caramel latte beside them. Heathrow to Dubai, Dubai to Melbourne. More than twenty hours spent on planes to get to Melbourne, to jump into work and get stuck in at the Australian Grand Prix. And it was the last thing she wanted to do.
She should be excited. She should be so happy because she was about to see the boys after over a week apart, she was about to see Dan. She was finally going to get to see the Ricciardos after almost two years apart. But she was dreading it, the memories from Saudi filling her head as she thought. Em forced her attention to the laptop sitting on her knees, emails up and the one she never thought she’d write sitting in the middle of the screen.
SUB: Resignation Letter
Dear Blake,
Please use this email as my official resignation, effective immediately. I’m sorry that I can’t offer any more notice.
Working with you has been fantastic, and I appreciate everything we’ve gotten to do over the past three years.
Kind regards,
Emma.
Signing it Emma felt wrong. Emma was for Zak Brown and Andreas Sidle. Christian Horner had used it the one time she was introduced to him at Red Bull. She was always Em or Ems now. Except for Dan, she was his Emmy. But that wasn’t going to happen any time soon. Or ever again. If he called her that she thought she might lose the last grip she had on her composure and break.
The email was scheduled and sitting in her outbox to send after the race, and the last thing she did before boarding was reschedule her flight home. Instead of leaving Monday morning with the boys, she was going on Sunday evening. She’d be somewhere over Queensland by the time Blake received the email and the boys would be at least twelve hours behind her. It was enough time to make sure she could be well ahead of them and get away.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She was supposed to be smiling and laughing, and she was supposed to be in Perth right now cuddling her niblings and laughing with Grace and Joe. Learning to cook yet another family recipe and insisting that she and Dan were just friends. She couldn’t even answer the question honestly if they were friends now.
He’d sent her away. The one thing she begged him not to do, the pinkie promise she’d made him give. The only promise she had ever asked him to keep. Not to stay safe while driving, not to do anything else. Not to leave her alone. The near screaming match they’d had in his drivers room that Blake and Michael had to break up. The way he didn’t even look at her but told Blake to “take Ems to the hotel”. How she had tears streaming down her face as she was escorted through the paddock like she wasn’t supposed to be there.
She still didn’t fully believe that she’d dropped her phone in the car. Em shouldn’t even have been in the car alone with Blake, but Dan insisted she went to the hotel room so she went. She was left there alone in Saudi Arabia, where Dan knew she couldn’t leave the hotel. She stared out the window at the smoke from the rockets, completely alone all night until Michael knocked on her door the following morning and she had to pretend everything was fine.
She’d worked from hospitality and as soon as the race finished she changed her flights to go back to London instead of Perth, making up an excuse. And Dan bought that she was going back for her parents.
“Family stuff.” She’d said when he asked.
“Em, you don’t talk to your family much.” She was folding clothes into her case, the one she’d brought that had her Australia clothes already standing fully packed.
“Yeah, but it’s family. My parents have their thirty fifth wedding anniversary in a few weeks, I’m helping plan it.” Only the last part of her words were a lie and she bit her tongue.
“Everyone wants to see you, they all miss you and they keep asking when you’ll be over. The kids miss you.”
“I’ll see them in Melbourne, Dan. You go, enjoy your time at home with them.”
She’d gotten a car to bring her to the airport and Dan hadn’t even asked a question, just a “text me when you land”. There was no hug, no even quick hand squeeze like they usually did in the Middle East. That’s when she knew whatever they were doing. The nearly four years of sleeping together and pretending they weren’t, of the media wondering who she was and why she was always there, was over.
She’d promised herself that she wasn’t going to catch feelings, that it was just sex. That she could do it. That every time she told Dan “y’know, right?” it was purely platonic. That the slow sex was just them wanting to take their time, nothing else. That she hadn’t murmured to Dan to make love to her in Bahrain when they shouldn’t have even been sharing a room after Grosjean’s crash, when he kissed her and held onto her and whispered that he loved her as he entered her.
Because that was sixteen months ago and nothing had changed. It was never going to change between them. Their fight in Saudi had proven it, and now she had to pretend that everything was fine before she said goodbye to the people she loved for the last time.
She couldn’t keep working with Dan when not sleeping with him. She couldn’t watch him fall for another woman, couldn’t get introduced to more people as “Em, my best friend” anymore. She was his Emmy. He was her Danny. And not getting to love him and be loved by him how she wanted to was going to kill her.
The flights were what she expected, Dan had upgraded her tickets to first class like he always did and she wanted to kill him like she always did. She spent the flights and the layovers organising his calendar for the next three months, tracking his flights and cross checking the sponsor events that had been filled in. Everything up to Hungary was booked and ready to go. She checked her watch when she was halfway to Melbourne, realising that he’d be at the Optus event she was usually on his arm for. She was supposed to be there this year, but she told him to take Michelle instead. All the events around the Australian GP that she always went as his plus one, wearing the star necklace he’d gotten her for her birthday, and the matching earrings that were her Christmas present the same year. Her outfit was usually one he’d bought for her against her protests because “let me spoil you” was how he showed that he cared, and she always wore the gold moon ring on her thumb that matched the sun one she’d bought him for his little finger. Most of her wardrobe and all of her everyday jewellery were presents from Dan. Her life was completely entwined with his, and untangling it all was going to hurt.
Her flight got in at god-awful o’clock that Wednesday morning, she’d lost a full day having left London on the Monday evening, but she walked through Melbourne customs with her suitcase glad to just be through. She’d told everyone she’d get an Uber to the hotel and meet them for breakfast, but instead as soon as she appeared in front of the glowing Melbourne sign two small figures ran to her yelling.
“AUNTIE EMMY YOU’RE HERE YOU’RE HERE!” Em dropped her bags and fell to her knees, arms wide open to pull Isaac and Isabella into her and pressing so many kisses to their curly heads.
“I’m here, I’m here. I missed you both so much. So, so much. I’m so sorry I couldn’t see you, I wanted to see you sooner.” Stupid Western Australia and closed borders and not letting people through. Her eyes began shining as she took in the difference in the two kids, Isaac at least a foot taller and losing the childlike way he’d spoken. Isabella had doubled in size, long hair and a child instead of a toddler the last time she’d seen her in person.
“It’s ok, you’re here now! Nana said you’ll sit with us for ev’rything ‘cept the race? Cause we’ve got two years of birthday and Christmas pressies for you!” Isaac looked so proud, grinning as he took her wheeled carry on and pulled it.
“I can’t wait. Who’re you here with?”
“Grandad Joe! He has our sign, Uncle Mike and Uncle Blake told us we had to use all the glitter. We were gonna wait, but I saw you and I wanted a hug. Is that ok?” He looked almost worried of her response, but she ruffled his hair.
“It’s more than ok. All I wanted was hugs from the two of you.”
Isabella clung to her waist, Em lifting her up with one arm and mentally thanking Michael for the strength training that let her carry the girl and pull her suitcase with her. She looked around to see Joe holding a giant piece of bright orange card, Auntie Emmy written on it in blue and silver glitter. It was the shiniest thing she’d ever seen in her life, and it was coming home with her even with the craft herpes that would infest her suitcase. Joe pulled her into a one armed hug on the side his granddaughter wasn’t monopolising, pushing a kiss to the side of her forehead that made her want to cry.
“We missed you, kiddo. Grace wanted to be here but we couldn’t fit her in the car too, and Dan’s doing media today. You cut it tight to get in.”
“It’s my parents wedding anniversary next week, I’ve been helping. I have to fly out after the race on Sunday.” It was Wednesday, and she could see his face fall as he realised how little time they’d have together.
“We’re spending as much time with you as we can until you go. Those boys get you all year round, we get you for this weekend.”
“That sounds perfect.”
When they made it to the hotel Em was greeted with yet more hugs from Grace, Michelle, and Michelle’s husband Adam. There were tears in everyone’s eyes at the reunion, and the long hug from Grace was the best thing ever and broke her heart at the same time. It was so restorative, so good, but she wasn’t going to get many more of them.
“Dan checked you in, here’s your key. He’s got the room on the other side of you, Blake’s on the other wall, we’re most of our corridor. Do you want to get some sleep and we’ll call you at noon?”
The first thing Em noticed about her room was the adjoining door between her room and Dan’s. She closed the lock gently to make sure she was completely alone. After that she napped fitfully, waking up to knocks on the door and yet more hugs. The day was spent going to the zoo, kids hanging out of her as she swung them around and gave piggybacks, feeling exactly like part of the family. Blake told her to take the day off for jet lag, and she wasn’t complaining.
That evening was filled with fun as the kids clung to her while she pulled out the first of so many presents. Chocolate first so she could see their faces eating proper chocolate rather than the Australian stuff that didn’t melt in the heat. The bag of duty free was quickly eaten between everyone, a movie on tv as she filled everyone in on what she had been doing. It wasn’t until after eight that Dan appeared wearing a suit.
“Ems! I thought you were coming with me tonight?” She looked up from where she’d been half dozing with Isabella curled up against her, taking in her best friend wearing a navy blue suit and white shirt.
“Coming to what? I’m taking today for jet lag. What’s tonight?”
“The AusGP reception. You always come!” Confusion was written all over his face and Em swallowed once, looking at him carefully.
“I said I wasn’t doing anything this year. I have to leave pretty much straight after the race, I don’t have time.”
“Emmy, please.” She hated that she couldn’t resist him when he did that, when her name curled around his accent like that.
“I don’t have anything to wear.” This was the closest they’d ever come to an argument in front of his family. Their eyes were going between them as if watching a tennis match.
“I got you something.”
“Dan, you can’t do that.” It was pointless to argue but she had to try make her point. She couldn’t just do everything because he wanted her to.
“I did. C’mon, it’s three hours and some schmoozing and we can come back so you can go to bed. He did his best impression of puppy dog eyes, lifting Isabella from her. “You want to see Auntie Emmy all glam and pretty, right Is?”
“Yeah! She’s always pretty.”
“You’re very right. I left the dress in your room, Ems. Please?”
“Fine.”
She said her goodbyes and went into her room, making sure the adjoining door was locked before going into shower and change. As she walked into the bathroom she thought she heard the door rattle but ignored it, forcing herself to take time to put herself together.
Years travelling around the world had taught her how to make herself look presentable in very little time, forcing her to learn how to do a blow dry with a hotel hairdryer. It took less than an hour to have hair and makeup perfectly done, a wrap around her shoulders and a pair of heels on her feet. The dress Dan had picked was perfect for her. It was lavender, knee length with a corset top, and her jewellery worked perfectly with it. He had taste when it wasn’t about party shirts. Once she was ready she picked up a clutch and knocked on Dan’s door. He opened the door confused, but ready to go.
“I thought you’d use the adjoining door? It’s why I got us these rooms.”
“I’m tired, Dan. Can we just get this over with?”
The launch was like anything else, an event to deal with. There were speeches and then wandering around the room, Dan’s hand hovering at her lower back but not quite touching her. She smiled as she was introduced as “meet Ems, she’s my best friend and my manager’s assistant who keeps my life on track”, even while her heart was breaking. But she kept her cool, finally managing to break away from Dan for a few minutes to chat to Ted and Natalie from Sky while Dan did the rounds.
“I didn’t know if you’d be here. I was talking to Michael yesterday, he said you weren’t in Perth with them,” Ted remarked as Em looked at the almost empty glass of champagne in his hand.
“Is this going to end up as gossip on the notebook if we talk?” Nat nearly snorted with laughter, Ted shaking his head with a chuckle.
“Nope. I’m drinking so I’m officially off work duties. Unless you have any gossip about things? Anything that I can attribute to an unnamed McLaren source?”
“I don’t work for McLaren, thankfully Zak doesn’t sign my paycheque. But no, I’ve got no gossip. There’s some family stuff happening so I have to head home pretty much as soon as the race is over. But I needed to see everyone, it’s been almost two years and I missed them.”
“Fair.” They chatted about the season so far, studiously ignoring the controversy around the last race, until Dan arrived back to make excuses and get them to leave the party.
“Back to the hotel?”
“You read my mind.”
The car ride back was the most awkward one the two of them had ever done and Em didn’t know what to do. Usually if they were in a car alone together they’d be curled into each other or at least holding hands. But she was on her side of the SUV, Dan was on his, and the hand she’d stretched into the middle as a peace offering was ignored. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do with that. Didn’t want to know, really. All his actions did was solidify that the painful decision she’d reached was the right one. Just because things could be easy didn’t mean they were right.
When they reached their floor in the hotel Dan stopped outside her hotel room as Em waved the keycard at the lock.
“Night, Dan.”
“But I thought…”
“What?” She was sharper than she should have been, but she was jet lagged and tired and heart sore.
“I thought we’d be sharing a room.”
“Your family are two doors down and the kids are here. The chances of at least one of them knocking on my door before I want to get up in the morning are high, and I don’t want to have to explain why we share a bed when we’re not married. Do you?”
“Not particularly.”
“Exactly. I’ll see you in the morning.”
As soon as the hallway door closed behind her she double checked the lock on the adjoining door before flipping over the door lock. If she’d looked out the peephole she would have seen a confused and disappointed Dan standing in the hallway.
The next few days passed in a haze of having the kids around, working, and ignoring Zak. She knew he was the original source of the rumours the year before, he was the one who got Mazepin to start spreading that she was sleeping with all three of her boys. It was her greatest pleasure to get to tell him no, and she did it with joy.
But in between finalising as much as she could before her resignation was sent she had time to wander Melbourne alone. She loved the city. It had always welcomed her in, it was Dan’s home race and the place where she knew everyone adored him. Em wandered around a craft market, finding a jewellery maker who made gold charms and engraved them on the spot. It took her all of ten seconds to buy two and get them put on different coloured leather cords, one each for Isaac and Isabella. The front had a pair of angel wings for each of her angel kids, and the engraving on the back read love you forever, Auntie Emmy. 
Leaving her family behind was going to be the hardest part of this, and she needed to make sure that they knew just how much she loved them. Em was so aware that she was about to be the first adult to choose to walk out of their lives, and she didn’t want to do that. She didn’t want to break their hearts the way hers would break too. She just hoped that when they realised she wasn’t coming back they’d know she wanted to tell them how much she loved them.
Practice and qualifying were shit and she felt her dislike of the team growing even stronger. She didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to deal with the stupid orange team and the way that they were favouring Lando already. Dan was the one who won a race last year, not Lando. He was the one who had proven himself with podiums galore. But they didn’t care.
That night she left the door between their rooms unlocked. Her bags were half packed, her resignation email was scheduled to send and she’d triple checked the timezone on it. Em had spent the last two days hugging everyone as much as she could, surprising Chloe by popping into the Aston garage before a practice and waving to Lance and Seb as she pulled Chloe into a giant hug. Scotty got one too, trying to put the love and care she had for her best friends outside her boys into a hug. There were waves to the people she couldn’t hug because rumours would start, giving Susie a recommendation for the restaurant they all ate at the night before so she and Toto could have a family meal with Jack in privacy. The small things to make sure everyone knew she thought about them and loved them.
Em couldn’t sleep straight away. Nights before races were hard, the crashes she’d watched with her own two eyes usually playing in her head. Dan in Anthoine’s car, Dan in Grosjean’s. Dan in Lewis’s place the year before with no halo. Dan in the rain and a tractor on track. All the ways she knew people had died racing she thought about and she couldn’t deal. Her fear every time Dan slid into his seat in the car was all encompassing but racing was his first love and she could never ask him to stop.
She was about to get up and go down to Michael’s room to ask for some melatonin, but the doorknob between the two rooms rattled and clicked open quietly. Em stayed still as she was, breathing in and out steadily.
Dan slipped into the other side of the bed. If she just opened her eyes she’d be able to see him. If she reached her fingers out slightly she could touch him. It was the first time they’d shared a bed since Bahrain and being just over covid and she wanted him to hold her. Her body was screaming to curl into him and tell him she loves him and she’s his and she doesn’t want him to fall in love with anyone else because she wants him to love her. To choose her over all the models in the world he could have.
She didn’t sleep that night, too aware of his presence in the bed. She could hear his snores but she didn’t dare look up at him, didn’t dare move in case she disturbed him. He needed his sleep the night before a race.
As the morning dawned through crappy hotel curtains she could feel the vibrations from the alarm on his watch, the one he always used to try let her get some extra sleep when he needed to be up early.
Please kiss my forehead. Please, Dan. Please just give me any sign you want me to stay. Don’t leave me again.
Every morning was the same when they shared a bed. He’d delay until the very last minute to stay in the warmth and then kiss her forehead in goodbye. And then he’d leave, not content to get out from there until he made sure she knew he said goodbye.
This time he slid out of the bed without touching her, padding across the still room and going back into his. Em heard the lock slide shut on his side and rolled over, tears filling her eyes.
It hurt so much already, how was she supposed to pretend that everything was fine? How was she supposed to act normal around everyone when she wanted to scream that they were over and nothing would ever be the same again? How could she be okay when she felt like this? 
He’d left her alone. Again. He hadn’t even touched her but he’d slept in her bed and she never thought Dan could be so cruel. She never thought he’d leave her with the barest hint of his scent, that if she hadn’t been awake she wouldn’t have known he was there. The ache spread through her chest and she tried to quiet her sobs but it hurt. It hurt so, so badly.
A cold shower soothed her puffy face, getting rid of some of the usual redness while makeup did the rest. She was dressed in her usual race day gear of shorts, vans, a McLaren polo, and a Dan hat on her head by the time there was a knock on her door, Michael standing there.
“Hey, I’m heading in with Dan and Blake now. He said you’re going in with his family in an hour?” Another cut in her heart. More space between them. But she schooled her face into a smile, hoping Michael would believe everything was fine.
“Yeah. I said I wanted as much time with the kids as possible, it’s fine.  See you there?”
“See you there.”
Michael was a couple of metres away from her when she stepped into the hall, grabbing her room key from the slot just inside the door.
“Michael?” He turned and she half jogged, pulling him into a tight hug.
“What’s this for?”
“Haven’t seen you as much. You know you’re my brother, right? How lucky I am to have you as my family?”
“You’re the most annoying little sister Ems, but you’re my little sister. I’ve missed having you around.”
“Miss you too.”
She watched him walk away as step one of her goodbyes was done. The next was to go to breakfast with everyone and pretend that things were normal for the next few hours until the race was over. She could do it. She had to.
Breakfast with the extended Ricciardo clan was fun, Isabella still clinging to her and Isaac insisting on sitting beside her. She soaked up every moment she got with them, walking out to the car Dan had arranged holding Isabella on her hip.
“That’ll be you in a few years,” Michelle commented as Em struggled with the car seat buckle before getting it right. “The mother, not the cool aunt. We can swap places.”
Another stab to her already mangled heart. “I dunno. Wait and see, but I’m not sure that’s on the cards any time soon.” Considering the only man she wanted to have a child with didn’t want to be with her, it was a no.
You’ll be a good mother, Em. Plus you’ll have loads of family around.” She wanted to scream that she was leaving her family behind for good this afternoon but instead she just smiled tightly. It was too close to home. She couldn’t keep this conversation going. It hurt.
The race matched her mood. The strategy wasn’t good, the car was a tractor, and the oblique team orders to not let Dan try overtake Lando made her want to scream. The team points would be the same, but no. Not for his home race even. The crowd were amazing and let out loud cheers every time the orange car made its way around the circuit, but it wasn’t enough and Em knew it. It hurt. Her last time at a Grand Prix, her last time cheering for the man she was so deeply in love with, and the team and car had let him down again.
The plan was already to delay debrief till Monday so Dan got to spend time with his family, and Em decided to head to the airport nearly immediately. She couldn’t stay any longer. She couldn’t deal with any more hints from Michelle about a niece or nephew in the future, couldn’t listen to Grace or Joe talking about how much they’d missed her. She couldn’t spend more time with Blake and Michael without wanting to break down and tell them that they had changed her life and she wouldn’t make them choose between her and Dan.
Because that was what it came down to. She was the last one in this group that was all united by their love of Daniel Ricciardo. She was the one who loved him so deeply it hurt, the one who loved every single member of the group to the moon and to Saturn. And she loved them so much she couldn’t bear to have them walk away from her. Because that was what would happen.
Her own blood family didn’t choose her. They saw her as a disgrace, as a failure because she was thirty one years old, unmarried and without kids. They didn’t realise that she was the one who kept Dan on schedule, who organised sponsor events and filtered out the crap he and Blake didn’t need to know about. She stopped the balls from falling out of the sky. Because she was just an assistant.
And if the people who gave birth to her wouldn’t choose her, she knew the family she’d built wouldn’t either. She was never the one who was chosen, and she didn’t blame them. She was just Emma. Danny was Dan. She knew who she’d pick if given a quarter of a chance.
She’d just finished packing when the adjoining door opened, Dan walking in already speaking but stopping when he saw the case by the door, her carry on full with the edge of the orange poster getting folded in.
“Where are you going?” His tone was accusatory and she steeled herself for the argument.
“Home.”
“Emmy…”
“Don’t Emmy me, Daniel! You know I have to go back for the anniversary.” She turned to look at him, watching as confusion turned to anger.
“And I also know that’s bullshit. I’ve known you for how many years, Em? You’ve visited your parents twice. Michael was with you one of those times, the visit lasted twenty minutes and even he didn’t have anything nice to say about it. Michael. Who has a good thing to say about almost everyone. So tell me the truth, why are you leaving now? Why not get on the flight with us tomorrow?”
“Because I have to go back.”
“Don’t lie to me Em!” He raised his voice and Em gave as good as she got, staring back at him.
“You want the truth, Dan? All of it?”
“Yes! That’s all I want, it’s all I’ve ever wanted with you.”
She took a deep breath, staring into his brown eyes for the last time, soaking in that even so angry he was so beautiful. She’d had the privilege of sleeping with him for nearly four years, of loving him for three. Whoever got to do that next would be so incredibly lucky.
“You left me alone. The one thing I ever asked of you, the only thing I ever asked you to promise me was to never leave me alone. I begged you. Whatever was going on, whatever was happening with us, please don’t leave me alone. And then there were bombs flying and I watched one explode and you made me get into a car and leave. You made me stay alone, and you didn’t come back to me that night. I didn’t know what was happening. I didn’t know if you were even alive because I didn’t have my fucking phone until the next morning and all the news was in Arabic. You were gone to the track before I knew what had happened. You left. You broke your promise, Daniel.”
“I didn’t have a choice!” It was the worst thing he could have said.
“But Blake and Michael got to stay. Angela stayed with Lewis, don’t try to lie to me and tell me she didn’t. Britta stayed with Seb. You sent me away, Dan. I was sobbing and begging you to stay and you made Blake drive me away. You made me leave when I was scared.” She let her words sink into him fully. “Just leave. Get out of this room and leave.”
“Emmy…” His voice was soft and she blinked back the tears she knew she wanted to cry. Not until the airport. Not until then.
“GET OUT DAN!” She yelled at him for the first time, shock on his face. “JUST LEAVE! It’s what you’ve been doing this whole weekend, just leave.”
“Fine. Fine. If that’s what you want, I’m fucking gone. I’m done here, I’m gone. I’ll be downstairs in five for you to say goodbye to everyone.” She watched him walk through the adjoining door and lock it as Em’s heart completely broke in two. She’d ruined it. He was done. He was gone. He was leaving and she was going and she would never speak to him again because her Daniel wasn’t hers anymore. One person down, eight to go.
She brought her bags down to the lobby alone, everyone standing there waiting to say goodbye. Michael got a hug, she’d said everything she needed to earlier that day. Blake was beside him, wrapping her in a full body giant one and holding her tight.
“You know I love you, don’t you? I really love you.” Blake grinned and pulled her close again.
“Love you too, Ems. Moving beside you was the best decision I ever made.”
Saying goodbye to Michelle and Adam was hugs and whispers of seeing them for Christmas when she knew it was a lie. Grace pulled her into a hug that only a mother figure could, whispering in her ear.
“We’re coming over for Silverstone and yours and Dan’s birthdays, so we’ll see you then. We love you Em. If you need anything I’m only a FaceTime away. Don’t let them get you down when you’re with your family.”
“I love you too, Grace.”
Joe got a hug and a murmured love you, his hand patting her back soothingly. The kids were last, sulking as Em squatted down in front of them.
“So I got my angels a present to say goodbye, cause I know I didn’t get to see you lots. Want to see them?” There were identical nods and Em strapped the bracelets on, Isaac’s on a black cord and Isabella’s on a purple one.
“It matches the one I made you and Uncle Dan,” Isabella murmured as Em pulled her into a tight hug.
“It does. It’s a reminder that I love you both so very, very much. No matter how far away we are, I’m always going to love you, okay? Don’t ever, ever forget that. Pinkie promise me?” She held out her little fingers, laughing as they both enthusiastically took part in the ritual. She pulled them in for a final hug, pressing kisses to both of their heads.
“See you on winter break!” Isaac grinned as he spoke, Em putting a tight smile on her face. 
“We call it summer break, but I’ll see what we have to do then buddy.”
“Do you want a lift to the airport? I’ve got the rental?” Joe asked but Em shook her head.
“Nah, I’m good. I’ve got an Uber coming, I just want to get on the road. It’s hard enough to say goodbye to everyone I can’t drag it out much longer.”
“Fair. Love you, kiddo.”
“Love you too, Joe.” Her phone buzzed with the notification that her driver was there and she started towards the door. Dan still hadn’t come down and that was it. He didn’t love her. He didn’t feel anything like how she did because no matter what he’d said, he’d never make her leave. But she made him leave. He was gone.
She was almost at the door when an oh too familiar voice called across the lobby, running up to them. 
“I didn’t think you’d be leaving already.”
“My Uber’s outside, I need to leave.”
“Oh.” There was none of their usual hugs, none of the subtle kisses he pushed to the top of her head when they were separated. He didn’t even squeeze her fingers. It was like they were strangers. “Send a text when you get to London?”
“Yeah, sure.”
She turned to get her luggage into the car, shielding her face from everyone with her hair. The driver lifted it in and she was soon safely ensconced in the back seat, tears falling down her cheeks as she waved goodbye behind partially tinted glass.
“Was that Daniel Ricciardo?” The driver asked, Em forcing a smile.
“Yeah, I work with him.” It was true for another five hours at least.
“He seems like a good guy.”
“He’s one of the best.”
Tears streamed down Em’s cheeks the entire way to the airport, through the fancy check in area and security, and following her into her first class pod. She mostly ignored the staff apart from nodding at them, continuing to cry and wipe her eyes on tissues. The tears barely stopped until Dubai, only aided by Blake’s near constant texts as soon as her email sent.
She knew when she arrived in London that she had about twelve hours before the boys landed, Blake texting even while he was on his flights. She sent a I got back safely, receiving another flurry of responses.
Em, what’s this email about?
What’s going on?
Tell me you didn’t mean to send this
Is it the travel? Do you want to slow down? Why?
Ems we need you. How am I supposed to tell everyone you’re not coming with us anymore? Did you meet someone? Did something happen?
We’re about to land in Heathrow. Dan’s going to his place and looks miserable. I’ll be at your door in less than two hours.
When she got the final text Em grabbed the bags she’d hastily packed with clothes and the things she needed for the next eight days until the boys had left London for Imola. The address of the last minute airbnb was in her email, getting an Uber to it handy. She was long gone by the time Blake arrived, sitting in her temporary home for the next while and planning what she had to do. They’d leave England on the Wednesday, she had five days to empty her flat.
It started with an email to her landlord to give up the lease. Her family reasons excuse was accepted quickly, the landlord told she had to leave London and the apartment would be vacant from the end of the month. After that she had to start planning on where to go to.
There were too many memories in London. Nearly every street reminded her of Dan, of days walking around hand in hand to show him her London, not the tourist one he knew. The city she’d moved to at eighteen with a dream and a student loan and where she’d discovered who she was. Dan was everywhere in the city for her - memories of their first kiss in the pub she’d spent too many hours in, museums she’d dragged him to, streets he’d stolen a kiss from her at with a grin and a chuckle when they were waiting to cross the road. The cafes and greasy spoons she’d brought him to with the promise of not telling Michael. She couldn’t stay there, it was too much.
But everywhere she thought of had memories of him. Filthy weekends away when they were at home because of covid, eating out to help out and driving to Manchester or Glasgow to spend time together and have hotel sex. The midlands were completely out because of Silverstone, of memories of Enstone and the Renault factory, of Milton Keynes and his goodbye from Red Bull.
The only big city she could think of without a memory of Dan - with only one memory of her boys - was Liverpool. Which meant her parents. Which meant a conversation she never wanted to have. Calling her mother wasn’t like calling Grace. But she didn’t have Grace in her life anymore, so she had to do it.
“Emma, what country do you deign to call us from today?” Her mother answered the phone, disdain dripping from every word.
“Good morning, Mother. I’m in England. I was calling because I need to ask for a favour from you.”
“Yes?”
Em swallowed, teeing up words on her too thick tongue. “I had to leave my job, they didn’t have the funding to keep me on. I was wondering if I could move home for a few weeks while I’m applying for new jobs. I want to leave motorsports, there’s too much travelling and I want to settle down.” She hit every keyword that her mother had as she checked her bank account balance, spotting her final pay deposited in the account. It was more than healthy thanks to travelling so much for work and Dan covering that under work expenses. But she needed to be sensible, and renting somewhere without a job would be a mistake.
“You can. You will need to pay rent while you’re here.”
“Of course. Just let me know how much. It wont be for long, it’s just a few weeks. It’ll be like I won’t even be there, if I’m not interviewing I’ll be in my bedroom.”
“Fine. Let me know when you plan to arrive.” She sounded bored of the conversation already.
“I’ll be back April twenty fourth. I can send you the train details then.
“See you then.”
The difference between the call with her mother and a call with Grace just cut the wound in her chest even harder. Grace never let a call end without a million “I love you”s between them. She made sure that Em spoke to everyone in the family, and if Joe was out at the garage she took a message and told Em that he loved her. Instead her mother hadn’t even asked if Em wanted to leave a message for her father.
It felt so, so wrong.
The list of things she had to do before the boys left for Italy was beginning to shrink, but there was still so much to do. She ignored Blake and Michael’s texts, refusing to even open them. The chats were archived so the red dots didn’t irritate her. Dan didn’t send her anything at all, yet more proof that he meant everything he said in Melbourne. He was done with her. She didn’t realise that emotional pain could hurt this much. She’d never believed in soulmates, never believed in fate. She always thought that if a relationship ended she’d get through it. But now? This not quite a relationship over? It ached to her core.
Friday morning she had an appointment with a solicitor, walking in with a tear stained sheet of what she wanted to leave to different people. She’d always fought with Dan about being prepared if something happened to him, not wanting to know what he left her. She was one of the two people who could decide what medical treatment he got if he couldn’t consent. She’d cried when he told her that day in Spa when they got that tragic news what he wanted if he was in a crash like that. That he trusted her to not let him stay on machines. Some of her nightmares included his plaintive “I don’t want false hope” that made her ache.
She didn’t trust her parents to not do the same for her. They’d keep her hooked up to machines for as long as possible, they’d insist it was for “hope”. Em didn’t know what hope, but she knew them. They’d barely spoken for five years apart from occasional texts and birthday cards, they didn’t have the right to decide what happened to her.
It was a blustery Friday morning when she walked into that office and signed the papers to say Daniel Ricciardo, Blake Friend, and Michael Italiano were the people who decided what would happen if she couldn’t make her own medical decisions. She gave the lawyer the makeshift will that was handwritten and tearstained. It was simple - her cookbooks and exercise equipment to Michael because he was always trying to adapt her recipes. All but one piece of her furniture to Blake. Her CDs and DVDs to Dan, along with the coffee table he kept falling over. Her collection of Dan’s raceworn helmets to Isaac and Isabella. Dan, Grace, and Michelle were to divide her jewellery between them based on who wanted what. The rest of her belongings were to be sold and the money put in Isaac and Isabella’s college funds. It was too easy.
Even after everything that had happened, even after walking away, she trusted her boys more than she trusted anyone else in the world.
After all of that her final task was to organise her storage unit and movers. That was easiest of all if Em was honest. A call to a moving company who agreed to put everything in the unit without her there, and walking into a storage company. She signed a two year contract and paid the full rent then and there, surprising the man at the counter. Now she was able to disappear.
The texts kept coming from Blake and Michael. WhatsApp and iMessage, even a signal account she’d forgotten she had on her phone. Michael sent her instagram DMs so she deleted the app instead of trying to avoid reading them and appearing online. But finally it was Wednesday and she knew exactly when the boys were flying out of London City Airport. She’d organised the private flight for them, booked the plane and made sure the flight was as clean as possible. As soon as they’d take off her plan could start.
Walking back into her apartment felt too normal, just checking her post and finding it mostly full of letters from Blake. Get in touch, we’re worried, we miss you. Sentiments she knew he’d share but it would be easy for him to forget about her. The letters went out in recycling and she began to pack up her life.
The boxes were settled easily. Storage, donating, and Dan’s stuff. The ones for him filled quickly, clothes and accessories and things he’d left lying around the apartment that had become theirs instead of just hers. It took three boxes to get rid of the sense of him.
The storage boxes were easier, but the final thing she had to do at four that Sunday morning was decide what to do with her helmet wall. Ever since Monaco and his win, Dan had given her his race worn helmet for any new race design. She could name which race each of them was from, and in the middle was her Monza win one. McLaren had wanted it for the MTC but Dan refused to give it over, insisting it was his and he was keeping it. They got the trophy so he got the helmet. And then he put it in the middle of the IKEA shelves that they’d spent a weekend putting together and laughing.
Part of her - a large part if she was truly honest - wanted to donate them. Get rid of them for the clean break she insisted she needed. But she couldn’t. They were the good parts of the last four years, the best part of her life and the reminder that for years she got to love Daniel Ricciardo and travel the world with her best friends. Once she was settled somewhere she’d put them all back up to get her and explain to whoever asked that she was a part of Formula One for a short while, and it meant so much to her.
It took longer than she expected to get them wrapped carefully and boxed away. Two just about fit in one box, but they were light at least. When they were carefully labelled with the races, a tear falling from her eye when she wrote Monaco 2018 on a box in looping letters, she sat down to write notes to her boys. They deserved more than a resignation email and leaving without saying goodbye but if she saw them in person she wouldn’t walk away. She was barely strong enough to do that the first time. Em couldn’t do it again.
Dan’s took the longest. It started with anger. How could you make me love you when you didn’t love me back scrawled angrily, tears staining the lined pages as she wrote everything. But she couldn’t give it to him how she’d written it. She couldn’t deliberately hurt him. It wasn’t Dan’s fault that she’d fallen in love with a man who couldn’t love her back the way she wanted him to love her. It was her fifth draft, still tear stained, that was the one she was giving him.
Danny,
I’m sorry I didn’t say this in person but I couldn’t do it. We both know that things between us haven’t been working for a while. It’s nobody’s fault. I guess we just wanted different things. It happens to us all. But we’re both done and writing this is easier than another long conversation and another fight.
Go be happy. I’ll cheer you on from wherever I end up, no matter what. You’ve changed so many lives, mine included. Thank you for the amazing years and experiences. You let me do things that so few people ever get to do and I can’t thank you enough for that.
Emma
Michael and Blake’s were harder and easier. She only needed one attempt at them, trying to wipe the tears before they fell.
Blakey,
I’m sorry for leaving like this. I’m sorry for leaving you in the lurch, but I made sure that everything logistically is booked until the summer break. Just get him where he needs to be on time, you were always better at that than me.
I love you. You’re my big brother and i wasn’t going to make you choose between me and Dan, that was never going to be fair. I’ll be happy and I want you to be happy too. Find a girl and settle down or bring her around the world. I’m rooting for you the entire time.
Will you make sure everyone in the paddock knows I love them? Tell Chloe and Scotty to get their wedding planned. Chloe will be the most beautiful bride and I’m so sorry I won’t get to see her in person. Scotty will look ok, I guess.
Thank you for everything.
Love,
Ems
PS - the extra key is for my storage unit. A1 Storage in Wimbledon. Figured you’d be a good person to have it.
She folded Blake’s letter into an envelope and labelled it before writing the last one. Somehow this was the hardest, having to ask Michael to do what she couldn’t.
Mike,
I’m sorry for leaving and I’m sorry for asking you to pass a message on but I know you will. I love you so much. You made lockdown bearable even when I was being a bitch, and you made me actually enjoy exercising you cruel man.
Tell everyone that I love them and I’m sorry? You let me know exactly what a family is and how I deserve to be loved and that’s something I can never thank you enough for. Ever. I can’t make people decide between me and Dan. He wins every time and that’s how it’s supposed to be. It’s easier if I just leave.
Tell Grace and Joe I love them and I will forever be grateful for their love and support. Let Michelle know that she’s the best big sister ever. Please make sure that Isaac and Isabella know that I love them no matter what. It’s not their fault I left and I will always love them. Whoever gets to be their auntie is the luckiest person in the world and I wish it got to be me.
Tell all your family I love them, and ti voglio bene to Nadia and your Nana. I love you all so much, and I’m cheering you all on from wherever I end up.
Love,
Em
When the movers came she handed them the key to the storage unit, letting them know what to do. Everything was out of the apartment in a few moments and Em took a last look around her almost empty apartment. The memories were suffocating. Dan tripping over the coffee table, the London lockdown when they got back from Australia and they lied to Michael about what the yoga mat’s primary purpose was. The way Dan danced with her in the dark kitchen, distracting her from finding food for them in the fridge and getting them to sway in the silence. The kisses and living together like he loved her the same way she loved him.
He’d been blowing up her voicemail since Wednesday and she deleted them I listened to. The first “Emmy” hurt her too much, so she decided to practice self preservation for once. As soon as her voicemail said “you have an unlistened to voicemail from Dan” it was deleted. The same with Blake and Michael. She couldn’t do it.
Finally it was time to leave, and she carried Dan’s boxes one at a time into Blake’s apartment. The three were stacked one atop the other, the letters on top of them. Em stared at her thumb, at the moon ring that had been there since Dan bought it for her calling her his moon on dark nights. She couldn’t bear to take off the three necklace hanging on her chest, but this she had to leave behind. She wasn’t his moon, and he was too bright to be her sun.
She slipped it off and rubbed her finger against the warm gold, pushing a kiss to it before stepping back. The final thing she needed to do was leave the envelope with her medical power papers and will on Blake’s coffee table before she locked the front door and slipped his keys in his post box. It was done. She was gone.
The tube to Euston was quicker than expected and she joined the trek to the Liverpool train, settling into her seat a few minutes before they were due to pull out. Her phone lit up with a notification that the race was about to start, illuminating the photo from lockdown of her and Dan holding Isaac and Isabella. They looked like a family. Em unlocked her phone and pushed her thumb firmly down on the F1 app to delete it. A clean break.
The train pulled off exactly at two, her mind echoing Crofty’s “lights out and away we go”. Dan was in the car and racing and all she wanted was a good points finish for him. But she couldn’t check. She couldn’t let herself find out what he was doing.
Her tears fell harder as the train pulled into Milton Keynes, the memories of the last time she’d done this train journey as Dan’s plus one. His leaving Red Bull party, staying in a hotel with him the week before they flew to Perth for Christmas. It was the only time she’d gotten to visit the impressive Red Bull factory. Meeting Max properly, Christian cornering her with his wife - and keeping her cool around Geri fucking Halliwell - to ask if she could convince Dan to come back. Getting whisked away from Helmut quickly when he tried to speak to her, meeting the mechanics and team that she’d seen at several races properly for once. Yet another place she could never visit again because all she’d think about was Dan.
Em made herself stop crying shortly after, pushing a cold bottle of water to her eyes. She couldn’t be red eyed or puffy seeing her parents. It was bad enough returning with her tail between her legs. She didn’t know if she’d survive the I told you so.
*
When Dan got out of the car in Imola he knew what he had to do. His first stop was being weighed and getting his slip, Mike pushing one of those AG1 drinks into his hand to down to get electrolytes and water back into him. After that it was media rounds, apologising to Carlos, and doing media. Once the debrief was finished it was London. He needed to get to Emmy. For the second time he’d gotten on a plane when he should have been with her and he needed to apologise. Needed to make things right.
“The jet will be ready when we finish? I need to get back to London tonight.” Michael handed him a McLaren branded shirt and pair of skinny jeans to put on once he was out of the shower.
“It’ll be ready. Mate, you need to know that she might not want—“
“She’ll see me. It’s Em. She’s my Emmy. She’s going to see me and I’m going to tell her everything. I can’t do this without her. I can’t. I dunno how I did it before.”
“Ok. Go shower and head out.”
The debrief was painful. Lando on the fucking podium, Dan last. They wrote off his technical debrief after the collision. It was clear Dan couldn’t have done anything, and the rest of his race was nothing to write home about. He should have just retired. It was shit and he just had to listen to how Lando had a flawless race and was extracting the most out of the tractor McLaren had built. He had to wait until it was over, half listening and taking notes while stewing.
All he could think about was Emmy. He hadn’t reached out because he thought she needed space, wanted time. He’d had the fucking ring in his pocket in the hotel room and then they’d fought and he couldn’t exactly get on one knee and ask her to marry him after that. But now she was gone and she’d been gone for weeks and he didn’t know. He needed her to be ok. He needed to go home and see her on the couch and beg for her forgiveness because he was hers. His apartment was so fucking lonely, driving in and out of the factory without seeing her. Without going to sleep curled up beside her and waking up with the fairy lights glowing as she read whatever dog eared book she was rereading that month.
The voicemails were being listened to. Her inbox went from full to empty and he kept texting, determined to get through to her. Needing her to talk to him. To say anything at all. People kept asking where she was, he laughed it off and gave the excuse of family stuff. Natalie had nodded and said she hoped Em would be back soon. Chloe had looked at him oddly when she heard the excuse but he shrugged and moved on. The elder Stroll could be terrifying and he didn’t want to get on her bad side. Not even Scotty could save him from that.
There was nothing he could do but wait to be freed. The moment they were able to break - after Dan apologised to the mechanics for the job they’d have to do on the car - he was on his way to the driver room. Blake and Michael were already there with bags packed and ready to go.
It was a two hour flight to London and they landed at nine. After forcing their way through traffic in a black cab it was after nine thirty by the time they arrived at Blake and Em’s building. Dan stepped out of the car and grabbed his bags, heading straight upstairs to the two identical doors. He didn’t realise when it became more normal to stand in front of Em’s door than Blakes, but it had years before. He knocked twice to no response.
“Em? I’ve got my key, I’m coming in.”
The lock turned easily with the familiar key and Dan set his bags down to flick the light switch. What he saw terrified him.
The room was empty. The couch that killed his back, the coffee table his shins hated, gone. The bookshelves and the kitchen table they’d spent a lockdown day building, gone. Her helmet collection was missing. Em had once told him that if the building went on fire she would save whichever helmets she could. If they were gone, she was gone.
He ran to her bedroom but everything was missing. The fairy lights they’d taped up with double sided tape. Her bed. The throw cushions he laughed about. Even the case at the bottom of her wardrobe with the lingerie he’d bought her was gone. Her pink boots weren't there. It was like nobody had lived there for years. He couldn’t even smell her perfume in the air.
“Dan?” He hadn’t realised tears were streaming down his face when he turned to see his best mates standing in the doorway. “Mate, you need to see this.”
He followed them back to Blakes, pausing to lock Emmy’s front door. She had to come back. The idea that she wouldn’t come back was impossible.
Until he saw the boxes.
Three of them, neatly stacked almost up to Blake’s chest. There were three envelopes on them, and a glint of gold on top of one. He nearly ran to it, ignoring the post race soreness going through his body to see the ring he’d given her sitting on top of the one neatly labelled Daniel.
She’d used his first name. Emmy never used his first name unless something was wrong. He’d fucked up so badly that he didn’t want to open it.
Instead he held the ring firmly in his palm, the metal cold against his hand. She was there. She had been there and now she was gone and he didn’t know what to do. But instead he followed what Blake and Michael had done and opened his letter.
It was how impersonal it was that killed him. Em was done. She’d be fine. Thanking him for bringing her around the world and letting her work with him. She didn’t want another fight and she thought he was done with her.
She didn’t love him like he loved her and for a brief moment that made him want to die. The moments they’d shared, the times they’d said they loved each other. The times he’d held her and traced I love you down her back or against her clit when he was eating her out, desperate for her to know but too afraid to say it. The 'y’know, right?'. Everything from the last nearly four years. None of it had ever mattered because she wouldn’t have married him. He had her ring in his fucking ever present backpack and thank God he hadn’t tried to propose because she’d have said no and he’d have been humiliated.
“I guess you were right. Buying the ring was a mistake.”
His choked voice broke the silence, but it was Michael who got the next sentence in, cutting off Blake’s question about the ring.
“Mate, what the fuck are you talking about?”
“She doesn’t love me like I love her. I was wrong. I just got my heart broken so please, don’t rub it in right now?”
“Did you read any of what she wrote?”
“Yeah. She’s done. She thanked me for letting her travel with us. Like she didn’t earn her place. She signed it Emma. I was wrong, ok? I was wrong and I can’t take you rubbing it the fuck in when I think Im gonna break.”
“What happened? Because the two of you were fine in Bahrain, and then after Saudi she disappeared and skipped Perth, and she was barely in Melbourne. What happened with you?” Blake was the one who asked, Dan flopping on the couch beside him. He held out his much shorter letter for them to read.
“Things were weird when we got back after Christmas. Then we had covid and got through it. And Saudi fucking happened. With everything going on and keeping her safe I didn’t see her till after the race and she was already leaving. And in Melbourne we… We had a fight.” The memories of what he’d said were circling again, the anger between them, Em telling him to leave again. Him walking away.
“We thought that much. You didn’t even hug her goodbye.”
“She told me to leave!”
“In self preservation.” Michael’s voice was low and Dan was almost afraid of his best friend. “She said she didn’t want to make us choose between you and her, that she knew we’d pick you. So she left. I have to tell your fucking family she’s gone, by the way. She asked me to. So you’re going to tell me everything that’s happened between the two of you and we’re going to fix this. What the fuck did you do?”
He wanted to be annoyed that he was being blamed but he couldn’t blame the boys. So he let everything out.
He told them about wanting to kiss her in Blake’s that first night, of Monaco and their agreement that it was over once she left Monaco. Coffee and Silverstone and her birthday drinks. Spa and I love you when they were faced with the reality of what could happen with his job again. Em begging him to never leave her behind, that no matter what he wouldn’t leave her alone. Her dick of an ex who’d destroyed her self-esteem and meant she lost her friends. The meaning of 'Y’know, right?', the phrase that had been their mantra since 2019. That he hadn’t slept with anyone else since he’d met her because he just knew she was supposed to be his. That he’d bought the ring when they spent Christmas 2020 together but was just waiting for the right moment. And then in Saudi she’d been sobbing and he sent her away. He made Blake take her away from him. From them. He’d broken his fucking promise and again in Australia he walked away when he should have stayed in that room.
She’d picked the fight. She’d picked it so she’d be left alone and leave and the realisation of how well she fucking knew him hurt so much. She knew him like the palm of her hand and for a minute he forgot about it.
“Let me get this straight. You’ve known just how shit her family is for longer than any of us, and I’m the only one who’s actually met them. She asked for exactly one thing from you which was don’t leave her alone. And in Saudi, one of the countries she’s most scared of being away from us for any length of time, you made her go back to the hotel and stay there on her own. She begged you to stay and was sobbing and you left her to cry when she asked you to stay? I could fucking punch you right now.” He nodded at Michael’s words, shame filling every cell in his body.
“You made us leave her alone.” Blake spoke and Dan thought he was going to be sick. “In Melbourne. The morning of the race. 'Em’s going with my parents. She wants family time.' She didn’t know she was going with them, did she? Why?”
“She… I… No. We weren’t ok. I didn’t know if I could be in the car with her. Not after that night.”
“What happened?”
“I… Fuck. She kept the door between our rooms locked that whole week. But Saturday night it wasn’t locked. I had a habit of just trying it, just in case. It was open and I went in. I just lay down on the edge of the bed and watched her sleep for a while before falling asleep. I left before she woke up. She didn’t know, she was asleep the whole time.”
“You think our Ems was asleep for a full night before a fucking race? Are you an idiot? Did you get brain damage in that crash today? She doesn’t fucking sleep! You slept in the same bed as her for four fucking years and you don't know that? She’s into me for melatonin every damn night because she can’t sleep worrying about you. She was awake that entire night and you left her without saying a goddamn word and then you abandoned her again. Again, Dan. Don’t tell me you did something stupid and cheated on her like her fucking ex.”
“I never cheated. I haven’t touched another woman.” The thought made him sick. “I’m not that asshole. You know I’m not.”
“I don’t mean to be funny Dan. She lived beside me for nearly five years. She’s my friend. And now her apartment is for rent, your shit is here, and she’s told us all goodbye and to give messages to the people she loves. So you might not have cheated on her, but you broke her. It took us four years to help Em feel like herself again and put her pieces back together and you broke her.” Blake was opening another envelope mixed in with the post on his coffee table that Em had left in as he spoke, eyes widening slightly. Before he could get the words out Michael had to.
“You’re telling your family, by the way.” His voice was solid, a way Dan had never heard before. “She asked me to tell them but I can’t. I can’t break those kids hearts and tell them their auntie Emmy loves them forever but she can’t see them again. I can’t tell your sister that she’s lost a sister, and I can’t tell your parents that you ran off the woman they want you to marry. That the woman your mum teaches family recipes to had to leave, because you fucked up that much. You know she’s their second daughter, right? Even before whatever the fuck you’ve been doing started they adored her. From Monaco. Em’s lost the only decent mother she’s ever had because of you. She didn’t want to make us choose but if she was here right now I’d choose her over you any day.”
“If you think she doesn’t love you, read this.” Blake held out a package of papers, Dan skimming them.
Everyone in his line of work was familiar with leaving a will behind. The fucking academies basically demanded it at this point. He’d put Emmy on his own medical power of attorney form after Spa, told her what he was leaving her when she was ready for that conversation after Roman nearly died in Bahrain. 
But Emma wasn't racing cars every weekend, so she didn't need the papers she signed. She didn't need to leave a will behind, but his name was there to make decisions for Em. She’d left him specific things. The cold fear snaked up his spine, tightening around his lungs and making it hard to breathe.
“She wouldn’t. She won’t do anything stupid. It’s Em, she wouldn’t.” The words came out as a rush but certain. She wouldn’t hurt herself. God, he couldn’t live with himself if she did.
“It’s probably just a precaution. But Jesus Christ, Dan. She’s gone. We have no idea where she is, we don’t even know what country she’s in. We don’t know what kind of head start she has and with the amount of frequent flier miles she has she could be anywhere. We can probably cross off here and Australia, but that doesn’t take away much.” 
“I need to leave.” Dan turned to see Michael pick up his bag. “I’ll call you when I’m ready to talk. I’ll email you workout plans. She’s my fucking sister, Dan. She’s my little sister and I trusted you knew what you were doing with her. She said goodbye to me and I didn’t even know. You… I can’t look at you right now. I’m this close to quitting too because I don’t know you anymore. The Dan I grew up with? He would have said something. He wouldn’t make the woman he kept saying he was going to make his wife run away. He wouldn’t make her feel unloved. Just work out what you’re going to do. I’ll be on the plane to Miami but I don’t know if I’ll see you before then.” Dan watched as his oldest friend, the man he’d known since primary school, who’d supported him through thick and thin, walked out of the apartment into the London night.
“She’s gone. She’s really gone and she’s not coming back. I… I have to find her, Blake. I can’t do this without her.”
“You need to work out what you’re doing. You need to tell your family she’s gone. You need to do your job. We’re all hurting right now and yeah your heart is breaking. But its my job to do tough love and tell you that you need to work first and then think about her.” He stared at Blake in shock. “I’m pissed. But work first. Em somehow managed to take everything off my plate when she was leaving, because she didn’t want to make things hard on me. Go home, Dan. I have to call Chloe Stroll and tell her Em’s not coming back.”
“Not yet. Please. Let me f—“
“I’m telling her. You can hide it from the media, from your family, whatever. Chloe is Em’s best friend outside us. Do you really think she hasn’t tried calling Em already? Really?” Dan nodded once. “Go home. Your place, not the empty apartment next door you called home. Go home and get your shit together. Em would kill you if you fucked up a race over her.”
Dan got an Uber on his phone, taking his bags downstairs along with his letter from Em. He slipped the moon ring onto his little finger, settling it just above the sun. He needed her back. He just didn’t know how to find her.
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mrvlbimbo · 2 years
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hii, i wanted to request eddie and bimbo reader!! a unique pair, but reader likes metal and rock music, and they find other ways to bond later!! ( you can take the last however lol )
Genuinely love this character and their dynamic sm in this fic!!! I was going to wait to post it till I wrote everything I wanted to with this HC but I figured I’d pass it off to y’all and see what u think abt it as well
(Finally living up to my username ig)
Eddie x Bimbo!reader (this is going to be a series btw)
1.6k words
When the hottest girl in his math class asked him out he thought someone was playing a cruel trick on him. Like haha laugh at the freak and his massive crush on the school bimbo.
She came into pre-calc that day all giggling and happy and usual. She sat down right next to him, now that was unusual. Twirling her hair and smiling, she leaned over to him and asked “Hey Eddie, what are you doing this weekend?”
“I dunno.” His heart raced when she ran a finger over his bicep and looked up at him, fluttering her eyelashes.
Her nails were done in a French tip manicure and he wondered how she got anything done with nails that long and fancy. “I have tickets to a rock concert. Will you go with me?” She bit her lip in anticipation of his answer.
He did not give her one, deciding instead to jump out of his seat and rush to the bathroom and not return until the very end of class. She was still right there waiting for him with a pleasant smile. “I’ll have to check my schedule,” he finally answered, still not sure if it was a joke.
She was also repeating her senior year but it didn’t seem to affect her popularity. But that might have had something to do with the fact she was drop dead gorgeous and absurdly friendly and kind. He was skeptical of “preps” like her but he couldn’t imagine she would ask him out as a joke just to be cruel. She didn’t have a cruel bone in her body.
But he also couldn’t imagine her actually wanting to hangout with him. Still perplexed by the time lunch rolled around, he decided to ask the rest of the hellfire club what they thought. They didn’t have any helpful advice, due to the fact they did not believe him.
That was until the girl in question practically skipped over to their table and took the seat right next to Eddie. “Hiiiii Eddie. Did you check your schedule?” she giggled, tapping her nails on the table and looking at him expectantly.
The rest of the group was freaking out now and she had a confused look on her face, soon she was going to get upset if she realized the others were poking fun at them. So he did the only logical thing, grabbing her hand and leading her out of the lunchroom and into his secret spot in the woods.
If she was confused before she was really confused now. But there was still a soft smile on her face when he looked at her. “Why are we out here?” she asked, stepping closer to him. Her hands were resting on his chest and he wasn’t sure if he’d ever been this close to a girl before.
“I wanted to talk to you in private,” he answered, stepping away so he could breathe without taking in her floral femine scent that made him a little bit delirious and very horny.
“It’s ok,” she blurted out, shaking her head and looking a bit embarrassed.
“What?” he asked dumbly.
“If you don’t want to go. It’s ok. I won’t be mad,” she assured him, her gentle tone encouraging him to finally agree to her offer.
“No no. It sounds really fun.” She perked up at that, giving him all the information about the concert and hurrying off back to her other friends who were probably missing her.
They had a really good time at the concert. He stuck by her side the whole night, glaring at any guy who looked at her. Which was a lot of guys, she was very attractive. And it didn’t hurt that she was wearing knee high boots, the shortest and tightest skirt imaginable, and a top that barely qualified as anything other than lingerie.
His eyes were glued to her the entire night and when she asked to stay over at his place that night he thought he had died and gone to heaven. In the morning when he woke to her wearing one of his t-shirts while trying and failing to cook breakfast, he was sure she was an angel.
Their friendship grew quickly. It seemed like she always had an extra ticket for him to go see whatever band she was into at the time. Despite having little in common besides music taste and the same pre-calc class, they got along well.
He was fiercely protective of her once he noticed she wasn’t as popular as she might have seemed. People took advantage of her trusting and kind nature to make fun of her behind her back and it made him sick. From then on anyone who had a bad word to say about her would end up with a ring clad fist to the face.
After months of hanging out, things started to change. She looked at him with this longing in her eyes that he didn’t understand. There was always fondness but now when she looked at him there was hurt piled on top of it.
One day after school he had invited her back to his trailer and when he turned on a movie she just crumpled. He could instantly tell something was wrong. “Hey hey. What's wrong sweetheart?” he asked, grabbing her shoulders and pulling her in for a hug.
He wasn’t much of a hugger before her but she was very affectionate and he tried to match that since it seemed to comfort her. She pushed away and stared at the floor, angry tears starting to fall down her cheeks. “Why haven’t we had sex yet?” she asked softly, the words barely above a whisper as if she was embarrassed to even be saying them.
“Huh?” he questioned, his eyes widening at her words. He was very into her but he was sure that they were nothing more than friends. Had she been waiting for him to make a move this whole time? Now he felt like an idiot.
“We’ve been dating for months now. And at first I kinda liked it because I thought we were taking things slow. Usually guys don't take things slow with me. But like you wont even kiss me and I’m starting to think you don’t even like me that much.” He tried to interrupt her but she just kept rambling, her voice speeding up and shaking a bit since she was still lightly crying. “And then I thought, well maybe he’s just not that into sex but you don’t tell anyone about us either and you never hold my hand.” Her lip trembled when she looked up from the ground to look at him.
He had an utterly dumbfounded expression on his face “We’re dating?”
She ignored his question and kept on with her nervous monologue. “Are you allergic to me? Like my perfume or my shampoo? Because I can change that, it’s not a big deal.”
“We’re dating?” he repeated, sounding more stunned than the last time. The longing stares were starting to make sense now.
“So I just want to know what’s going on,” she finished, looking at him expectantly. She had seemingly not heard his twice-asked question.
“Ok this is a little embarrassing but maybe I didn’t quite realize we were dating,” he admitted awkwardly, fully prepared for her to blow up and never speak to him again.
“It’s not embarrassing, it’s cute. You’re really sweet to me, for a not-boyfriend. I like really really like you.”
“I don’t wanna be a not-boyfriend.”
“What-what does that mean?” Her face fell, confusion and hurt setting back in.
“C’mere, I’m such an idiot.” He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his chest tightly. She gasped, hands steadying her on his chest and clutching the fabric of his shirt. “Let me take you on a date officially alright?”
“Ok!” she perked right up when he touched her, bubbly and happy once again at the idea of a date.
Their first date was to the county fair. He took her on the ferris wheel and as she had earlier mentioned was an issue, he did hold her hand this time. When the wheel abruptly stopped right as they were at the top, he took it as his opportunity to finally make his move.
When he cupped her cheek and turned her face to him she said “Oh no! We’re stuck.” She was pouting with a very serious expression on her face, not quite understanding that the ride had stopped on purpose.
“No. They just do that so you can get a nice view from the top,” he explained, gazing lovingly into her eyes as if he was trying to send her a really sweet telepathic message.
“Oh. It’s beautiful,” she gasped, not taking her eyes off of him for one second.
“Can I kiss you?“ he asked, already leaning in so their lips brushed.
“Oh Eddie. Please.” He loved the way she said his name but in that moment he loved even more the way her lips moved against his. Her pink nails scratched at his chest over his shirt as she moaned and whimpered into his mouth, quickly getting worked up just from kissing.
When her hand started to slip down his chest and closer to the growing bulge in his pants, he had to stop her. “Woah. Let’s uh wait for that.”
“Why?” She asked innocently, batting her eyelashes up at him.
“Because we’re at the county fair and I think handjobs are generally frowned upon in that setting.”
“Oh yeah,” she giggled, turning to rest her head on his chest instead.
“I know it’s probably soon for this but I think I love you,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head lightly as he stared down at her sweet smile.
“I love you too, Eddie,” she replied, tilting her head up to meet his lips again.
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black-amortentia · 5 months
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Under the Mistletoe with Remus
Professor Lupin x Professor!Reader
--
Christmas was in the air, and the preferred way of older students to celebrate was snogging under mistletoe. Teachers took points and handed out detentions when things got too heated, but you were much more lenient. As a newly appointed professor, and romantic at heart, you didn't want to interfere unless a couple was truly out of line.
This was how your classroom came to house a rather large and elaborate sprig of mistletoe. A safe haven for secret snogging, it hung just inside the doorway. You had long grown used to the sight of it, to the point you forgot it was there most of the time.
A knock on the open door drew your attention from the essays you were marking. You looked up to find the friendly Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher standing in your doorway. He seldom visited your classroom like this.
"Remus! Something you need?"
You stood up from your desk, stretching. You'd been at it for hours, with no end in sight.
Remus held up a book as he stepped through the doorway. "You left this in my office yesterday. Thought I might return it."
"Oh, thank you. I was wondering where that had gotten to." Funny, you were certain you had it in your hand when you left his office yesterday.
You visited Remus a lot lately. Subtle flirting was the nature of your growing relationship ever since the start of term. The two of you danced around whatever was forming between you, little touches, and affectionate words amounting to nothing outright.
Remus's fingers brushed yours as you took the book. Your cheeks grew pink at the contact.
Looking at him now, seeing the mistletoe hanging from the stone above him, thoughts of kissing him kept bubbling to the surface of your mind.
"Quite an impressive display." Remus thumbed at the mistletoe behind him, catching you looking at it.
"You can thank my students for that," you told him, laughing. "I made the mistake of letting slip that I think kissing under the mistletoe is a romantic tradition. They think it gives them a free pass."
Remus chuckled, glancing away. "Yes, well…"
"Something on your mind, Remus? You seem a little distracted today."
"Yes, there is something on my mind, actually." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "You."
You faltered, setting the book on a nearby table. "Me?"
"Yes, you." He took a step closer, closing the distance between you.
"You're so beautiful, intelligent, kind…" He reached up to touch your face, fingers grazing your flushed cheek. "I have a hard time finding the right words."
You leaned towards his touch, closing your eyes at the sensation. "Those words sounded like a good start."
Remus's eyes locked on yours, your faces tilting closer. There was a pause just before your lips touched, the moment of anticipation hanging in the air.
Then Remus bent forward to kiss you.
His lips were soft and warm, mustache brushing against your skin with a whisper. You kissed him back softly, lips parting.
You'd thought about this moment, but the reality of Remus's lips on yours, surpassed every fantasy you've had.
He held the kiss, grasping at your waist to pull you closer. A hand ran up the back of your neck, cradling your head, fingers curling in your hair.
Your hands found his hips, your hold light and steadying. The kiss was sweet and tender and dizzying, and when Remus finally pulled away, you weren't sure which way was up.
Breathless, Remus touched his forehead to yours. "Then again, maybe words are overrated."
Remus's voice was soft, his breath ghosting over your cheeks.
You smiled up at him. "Maybe they are."
A noise in the hall startled you both, evicting you from the little world of your own you'd fallen into. Remus reluctantly let you go, stepping back.
You peered outside your classroom and into the hallway, finding two Hufflepuff girls, whispering and peeking around the corner. They were both in your class and fancied themselves a couple of matchmakers.
You folded your arms in front of your chest. "Miss Woodhouse? Miss Fairfax? Shouldn't you be packing for your holiday?"
Remus touched your shoulder as he moved past you into the hall. "We'll speak later?"
You answered him with a smile and a nod. The Hufflepuff girls erupted into giggles, looking pleased with themselves.
"Five points," you announced, and they fell silent. "To Hufflepuff. For getting into the Christmas spirit. Now, off with you."
The girls took off in another direction, while your eyes remained fixed on Remus. Feeling you staring, he threw you one more smile over his shoulder.
It was going to be a very happy Christmas.
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https-florals · 1 year
Text
you said, baby, no attachments - r.c.
Tumblr media
part one || part two
word count: 2k
summary: after a very stupid, very impulsive night with rafe, you make a lot of  questionable decisions.
warnings: mentions of sex, suggestive!!! friends-with-benefits but without the friends, mentions of drinking, cursing, little angst, little fluff.
a/n:  FIRST EVER RAFE FIC!!!!! i have such a massive crush on drew starkey and tbh i’m shocked ive waited this long to write my bae rafe. anywayssss if this doesnt flop lol there may or may not be a pt 2 im working on!!! my plan is for this to have four parts, but that could change and i might condense it. this is based on casual by chappell roan!!
Stupid things have good outcomes all the time. JJ lives by that phrase, and after hearing it for years, it’s rubbed off on you. But apparently, that’s not a good excuse in an argument with him, and here you are, palms sweaty and slipping off your bike handles, repeating the words over and over and over like you’re trying to convince yourself they’re true.
Today’s stupid thing? Responding to a text from none other than Rafe Cameron. Okay, that’s been your stupid thing for about a month.
You had a little thing going with Rafe. It started at a party, a drunk hookup, neither participant quite realizing who the other was until they woke up in bed together. You had practically run from Tannyhill like the house was on fire, only after both of you fought a little, fucked a little more, and then promised never to speak of it again. You had thought that this pact also entailed speaking to each other, but about a week later Rafe caught you at work, smiled at you, and hit you with some stupid line you couldn’t quite remember. Something about being the prettiest girl in the room, which wasn’t exactly hard, considering you were indeed the only girl in the room as you worked the counter at the country club’s pro shop. When he slipped back his signed receipt to you, there were 10 digits scrawled across the bottom below his signature. 
“Rafe, what is this?” you had to ask, tone a mix between a laugh and a sigh. 
He shrugged, and attempted to grab his bag and run out, but you slid the fancy paper bag away from him. “I thought that we said we weren’t gonna talk to each other anymore,” you had stated softly, smiling at the way his cheeks tinted a little pink.
“Nah, I said I didn’t wanna talk about it,” he stressed, “But talking to you is way different.”
You just rolled your eyes and pushed the bag back to him, and he waved you goodbye as he left.
You can count on one hand all the interactions you’ve had with that boy, and that had to be the oddest. Well, maybe not as odd as having sex with him.
A week passed before you texted him. It wasn’t for anything really important, a scolding, if anything. All you did was remind him that again, he can’t just randomly take his shirt off while golfing. It’s a sophisticated establishment, the old ladies complain, blah, blah, blah. His response?
rafe c. - so you’re saying i distract you?
Yes, unfortunately, that is exactly what you’re saying.
The situations just get weirder, when the first time the two of you hang out is when you call him for a ride to the grocery store. No one’s at the Chateau, you’re out of gas, and every form of transportation you could possibly steal for a bit is with their respective owners. You doubt you could’ve balanced on JJ’s bike anyways.
The ride is a little awkward, but by the end you feel.. Comfortable. At peace, almost, in the Kook prince’s passenger seat with his hand ghosting over your knee. In the grocery store, it’s painfully obvious Rafe has never been shopping for food in The Cut. He’s wrinkling his nose at the cheap prepackaged salmon you buy, with generic bread crumbs. But then he helps you comb through the bell peppers to find decent ones, and carries your groceries to his truck. He even lets you play whatever you want over the aux.
You’re waking up with him in your bed the next morning, pushing him out the window so no one sees him.
And that’s how it starts, and how it continues- brief text convos, long hangouts, good sex and fake nonchalance. He stays true to what he said, and you don’t talk about it. To anybody. That was the whole thing- it was understood that it was a secret. No strings attached, forbidden kind of kook and pogue relations that would have your friends livid.
So why are you so nervous on this particular evening? Maybe it’s because Rafe let it slip to Sarah that you’re hooking up. Maybe cause Sarah just had to say something to John B, who then told JJ, who then fought with you in front of the entire group. Everyone knows, and everyone is telling you you’re crazy. It’s not something you can handle, so when you see that Rafe asked you to come over, you’re hopping on your bike and speeding to Tannyhill. 
When you get there, you automatically rush into Rafe’s room, a sweaty mess.
He’s laying on his bed, in just boxers as he scrolls on his phone. He jumps when you walk in, setting his phone down quick and standing up like you’re the queen or something.
Your gaze tracks to a bottle of lotion and a box of tissues on his nightstand, and you groan and fake gag as you flop facedown onto the mattress. 
There’s an almost soundless little intake of air, but you do hear it, and cut Rafe off before he can even speak. 
“I’m not helping you get off!” you declare loudly, and the boy visibly deflates.
“Come on,” he whines, like a little kid not getting his way. “You came in at the perfect time.”
You roll over so he’s in your peripheral vision, and huff. “I’m mad at you.”
He sticks his bottom lip out, a little mocking as he crawls onto the bed beside you. “Awe, what’d I do now?” Rafe lays on his side, head propped up on his hand as he watches you. He likes to watch the way his lamp reflects in your eyes, and how you roll your eyes everytime you catch him staring at you. His fingers creep up your side, but you push him off. Oh. You really are mad, he thinks.
“Why would you tell Sarah?” you ask, voice quiet as you stare him down. The apples of his cheeks turn a little pink, and his eyes widen.
“Uh, what did I tell her?” Rafe lies, because he remembers exactly what he said to Sarah, and the way her jaw dropped after he spoke.
“I just- I really like her, Sarah. Forget about the sex and all that shit. When I’m talking to her, it feels like…” He’s stumbling over his words, not quite able to say what he wants. “She’s fresh air, and I feel like I’ve been stuck in a room without windows, or some shit.” 
He was never much of a poet. He also remembers the vise-like grip she had on his arm as she told him she would kill him if he ever hurt you. Rafe promised he could never.
But right now he lies, lies and tries to level his voice. He’s a little shocked that you believe him, or at least don’t press the topic further.
“You told her we were sleeping together!” You hiss, lightly smacking him on the side of his head.
He winces, but internally he’s heaving a sigh of relief. He makes a mental note to never get drunk with his sister ever again as you continue to rant. It’s something about the Pogues wanting to kill him (nothing new), along with a couple of jabs about how he’s just the worst, and that he's annoying, and blah, blah, blah. Rafe isn’t really listening, rather just thinking about his stupid decisions. One of which is looking real pretty as she yells at him. Pretty enough to fall in love with. He absentmindedly tucks your hair behind your ear and you instantly exhale, losing your train of thought altogether in record time. It’s like you have the attention span of a damn goldfish around him.
You just groan again, and murmur, “I can’t stand you,” right before you press your lips to his.
Rafe laughs against you, pulling you on top of him in one smooth motion. “Good thing you’re sitting on top of me then.”
His hands slip under your shirt, and your fingers push through his hair. The calluses on his hands scrape against the soft skin of your stomach and catch on the lace of your bra. Hard hands for daddy’s money, you think. Your fingers tuck against his jawline, cradling his face while his tongue slips against yours, his lips curling up when you make any little noise.
You pull back to catch your breath, and Rafe just stares up at you, kind of punchdrunk.
“Rafe?”
“Mhm?” He reaches up to brush his thumb over your lips.
You’re silent for a second as you think about what you’re about to say. ‘What- What are we doing?”
Rafe’s mouth is parted, and you can’t quite decipher his expression as you watch his eyes flick over your face. He swallows, and says, “Whatever you want.”
You don’t really hear him, and blurt out, “I need this to be casual.”
“Casual?” he repeats.
“Strictly like, sex. No strings attached.”
He sits up, pulling you with him so you’re still on his lap but he’s eye level to you. He’s hard underneath you, but you ignore it as you continue to speak. 
“Okay, just sex. Why?”
It’s actually very hard to ignore, literally and figuratively. Rafe is thinking the same thing when you clear your throat and move a little on him, subconsciously. 
You shrug. “Listen, I don’t have the time for anything more than that. Plus, we know we couldn’t date, like ever.”
He nods, fake-stretching as a means to buck up against you. “And why couldn’t we date?” When you give him an incredulous look, he continues, “Just to play devil’s advocate. Not that I don’t agree with you, cause I totally do. I just wanna know what you’re like, thinking, if we’re on the same wavelength, or whatever…” He trails off, knowing he’s babbling and should stop.
You laugh a little nervously. “Okay, Cameron.” You take a deep breath, and hope that what you’re about to say makes sense. “I have an itch to scratch, and the only thing I want to do is scratch that itch.” You pause to think. “Itch that scratch?”
“You had it right the first time,” Rafe laughs, but the lilt of it is a little annoyed.
“Okay, whatever. Anyway, you’re good at scratching that itch.”
He grins with pride, bottom lip tucked between his teeth, and just the way he’s looking at you makes you squirm.
“Really good at scratching that itch,” you exhale a little shaky. “But y’know, I don’t really like you as a person.”
His eyebrows shoot up, eyes wide. “The fuck? Thanks a lot.”
“You’re an asshole, Rafe. Plain and simple. I’m not trying to be a bitch, but come on.” You’re thinking of all the times he’s been an absolute dick to your friends.
He’s thinking about all the things he’d lay down for you. “Not to you.”
Your words evidently sting him a bit, and you go red. You hadn’t really meant to hurt him.
You groan. “You know what I mean. My friends hate you. We just couldn’t work.”
Rafe doesn’t really know what to say. This isn’t really the way he thought this would go, but then again, what did he really expect? Everything is jumbled in his head, and all he wants to do is get high and forget about the conversation. But, even though you basically just told him that he's unlikable, you’re still regrettably pretty, and still on top of him. He grips your hips hard, holding you in place as he rolls against you. “So fuck buddies, but we can’t stand each other?” One hand snakes underneath your shirt to unclip your bra, and he does it faster than you can blink.
“Exactly,” you say somewhere in between both of your shirts coming off. “Just stress relief.”
His hands are hot all over you. There’s a hardness in his gaze that’s so different from the softness of his touch.
“We have to have rules,” you manage to state when you’re shimmying out of your shorts, breathing hard while Rafe toys with the little pink bow on your panties.
“Whatever you want, pretty girl.”
It’s a filler phrase, you think. He must desperate for you to shut up and fuck him, so he’s saying anything. 
He’s still thinking about how he’d do anything for you. Anything.
You still for a second to catch your breath, and say, “No feelings. No staying overnight. And we can’t go anywhere together that we would be seen.”
“Why not?” Rafe groans as your clothed heat slips over him.
“Rafe! People will talk. They’ll think…”
He presses a finger to your lips, effectively shushing you. “That we’re fucking? Well, hate to break it to ya, baby, but we kinda already are.”
“And no calling me baby.”
Rafe ignores you and slips his hand between your legs, and you forget that you’re supposed to hate him.
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wannaeatramyeon · 1 year
Note
I just thought what type of personality is thier child like and what type of dad they are.
Example: Daniel's child will be a chubby child like he is, probably shy and cute child. Daniel would be a dad that give confident to his child so they won't exprience hardship like and also both of them will have a shenanigans of eating in the middle of the night.
Gun's child would be mini Gun but doesn't look for fight like his dad. You can say the child is more of gentleman than Gun tendency. The child probably be like "Mom, How and why did you marry dad" Points at thier father who is rampaging in fight.
Thanks for the ask Sam and sorry it's taken so long 😭
Agree with your HC altho I wonder if Daniel might swing too much the other way being a health nut (after all the bullying and Lookism) and you would have to help him find a happy medium??
Lookism Boys as dads + what their kid is like
Wow that's a mouthful. HC for Jake Kim, Samuel Seo, Warren Chae, Goo Kim, Ryuhei Kuroda, Eugene, Vasco, Zack Lee, Johan Seong
General HC
Most would take after their dad and be at least adept with fighting
Unless specified they would turn out pretty ok. We all know the flaws these men have (except Jake he can do no wrong 🙏) so the coparent needs to balance that out
Jake and Samuels kids would be bff, much to chagrin of Samuel lol. He ends up seeing Jake far too much for his liking but his kid is happy so what can he do
Warren's kid and Yenna bff. Duh
Goo's and Ryuhei's hate each other at first. Always getting each other into trouble. Until. Wow, think of the chaos we can cause TOGETHER
Gun's kid IMO would probably get on with someone like Eugene's. But would be hilarious if they got swept into the Vasco/Zack/Johan dynamic
Eugene's is a bit of a loner. All the fancy upbringing means they have connections and networks rather than close friends 😔
Vasco's, Zack's and Johan's would be like siblings. Constantly pick on and insult each other. They're allowed to. But if someone joins in - WTF DID YOU JUST SAY?? YOU WANNA FIGHT?
Jake Kim
As a dad
Listen. I don't know whether my levels of delusion are way off with this man but he can do no wrong. He would be the best dad, best househusband. He would be harsh but fair and sooo much fun. Unfortunately your kid would be spoilt rotten with all the Big Deal Uncles and Auntie.
The kid
Like father like son/daughter. Absolute unwavering sense of right and wrong, maybe sometimes not too understanding of the shades of grey. A confident kid and heartbreaker - not purposely tho but their rizz will be off the charts like their dad. Of course a natural born leader. That runs in the family too.
Warren Chae
As a dad
Oof. If you thought he was protective over Sally then you have another thing coming. Needs a bit of talking around to give them their freedom and experiences. Apart from that you really can't complain. Warren has an infinite amount of patience. Also reads to them all the time to stop himself missing out words.
The kid
The cutest kind-hearted little soul! Would just be so nice and sweet! Super well adjusted and surrounded by loving adults (Hostel), and also Grandpa Manager Kim. Yknow the kids who are also constantly dirty? Like constant speck of dirt on their face? Yeah also that.
Samuel Seo
As a dad
It might be better if you're a single parent because he is gonna pass on some gnarly generational trauma. Your child will either end up like a mini-Samuel or fingers crossed there will be shitloads of therapy (for daddy and child).
The kid
Strives for perfection, and super ambitious. There's no avoiding some traits. Another natural leader, but rules less with an iron first than Sammy. Would be vain af, and looks after their appearance a LOT. A bit shallow and judgemental but will eventually grow out of it.
Goo Kim
As a dad
Shrewd af and always knows what's going on. Good luck to their kid because there is no lying to Goo. He'll play along and then drop the hammer. However, a bit too lenient so you would have to be the disciplinarian. Lets the kid just get on with things and learn by experience. "Oh you wanna play with the sword? Have fun!" "GOO NO-!"
The kid
Little shit. Sorry there's just no way they wouldn't be a mouthy little asshole. Goo would make sure they respect the parents, but otherwise they are a danger to society. A troublemaker. Figures out all the loopholes to any rules and laws... A constant headache but you can't help but be impressed.
Gun Park
As a dad
Does a lot of research before their kid is born. This guy is pretty thorough with things he is interested in, so if he's taking an active part in the kid's life then he will be meticiulous. Initially. Then, like Goo, will let their kid make their own mistakes. Otherwise, very hands on, doesn't believe in outdated parental roles. After all, this is Gun's ultimate masterpiece.
The kid
Christ. This kid could be the most intimidating child to have ever lived. Not as intense as their dad, but they are playing 5D chess while everyone else is just learning their shapes and numbers. They're cocky and confident, with the skills to back it up.
Ryuhei Kuroda
As a dad
Extremely similar to Goo imo. Would also love to embarrass the kid. Not purposely mind, just he can't keep his hands off or kissing you and no kid needs to see their parents so grossly in love.
The kid
An absolute menace, just like their dad. Huge prankster, mostly harmless. Don't get them together with Goo's kid because jfc they would be absolute terrors together. Unlike their dad in his youth, they would respect the shit out of women. You've seen to that.
Eugene
As a dad
Probably a little cold and severe, putting a bit too much emphasis on grades and perfection. Despite that, would actually be pretty good. Someone that reads up a lot on how to raise a kid, bonding with them etc etc. to form a somewhat healthy relationship.
The kid
Private school little wunderkind. Will grow up with the absolute best of everything and spoilt too so you would need to keep them grounded. Expected to take over Workers. Business acument and ambition will be drilled into them from an early age.
Vasco
As a dad
What is there to say about Tabasco that we don't already know. Would dote on them hand and foot. An absolute pushover! Their kid pulls out the puppy eyes and it's game over. Would teach them to protect themselves but probably draw the line at anything more.
The kid
Really creative? Vasco would place less emphasis on grades and would help to nurture their interest in the arts. But actually super smart too thanks to Uncle Jace's influence. Tbh I think the kid would be pretty perfect and with the kindest heart and stands up to bullies just like dad!
Zack Lee
As a dad
So so similar to Vasco. Has all these ideas on what they should and shouldn't do as a parent. Kid pops out, and Zack's a goner. Literally would do anything and everything for their child. Go absolutely crazy with pride if the kid is interested in boxing.
The kid
Would have no game... Like dad. Sorry. Good job they would be good looking af to even it out. Not a huge emphasis on education and grades thanks to Zack's influence. More focused on athletics. A little shallow and arrogant, but a huge softy underneath.
Johan Seong
As a dad
Panic and anxiety from the day their kid was born and every day after. First because of worrying about their eyes, second because he's just not comfortable with having an actual dependent. Tries to teach them about the evils of the world. Eventually chills out overall and reverts back to being the gentle-hearted boy he used to be.
The kid
For practical reasons, taught braille from an early age just in case. But otherwise a mini-Johan but without the trauma. Very softly spoken and sweet. Just an absolute ray of sunshine. Always accompanied by their dog, their bff and partner when a fight arises.
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onlyhuis · 1 year
Text
not so holy night
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member — teacher!jihoon x teacher!reader genre — smut with plot, a teeny bit of drama (barely any), lots of fluff at the end word count — 6.9k warnings — reader has a vagina and breasts, unprotected sex, oral (reader receiving), grinding, fingering, cumshot, some begging, please lmk if i missed any warnings! notes — this is the sequel to "not so silent night", which is posted on my sfw blog @junkissed! i would recommend reading part 1 first, since there's quite a bit of plot in this one! dedicated to @onlymingyus because she was going to murder me for that cliffhanger in part 1 hehe. so voila here is part 2! enjoy :) fyi i only read this like once bc i really wanted to post it tonight so if there's mistakes look away
this work contains nsfw content. minors dni or you will be blocked.
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drinks and dinner. dinner and drinks. that’s all that’s going to happen tonight. why are you so nervous?
when saturday finally rolls around, you stand in front of your bathroom mirror an hour before jihoon is supposed to pick you up, scrutinizing your outfit choice. the holiday staff party is always hosted at a fancy restaurant downtown, the whole place rented out for all the teachers and administrators for dinner, with music and mingling afterwards.
in the four years you’ve been a teacher at the middle school, this is the first year you’re actually going to bring a date.
is it a date? is it friends? is it coworkers? you think it’s a date; after all, you did get coffee before school with jihoon twice this week. it could be a friend thing, but the way he looks at you when he thinks you’re distracted makes you think otherwise.
it’s going to be a long night, you already know. nothing like the little half-hour meetups for coffee or eating lunch together in the back corner of the teacher’s lounge. a solid two, three hours for the dinner alone, not to mention the drinks you’re getting with him beforehand and however long you’ll end up staying afterwards.
you’re mentally counting the time and figuring out when you might get home so you can put on your ratty pajamas and nurse your inevitable wine headache as you reflect on the evening. god, when did dating get so exhausting?
you twist in the mirror, checking out the way your ass looks in the dress. not bad. is it too forward of you to have put on your nice lingerie underneath, “just in case”? probably, but it’s not like you get an opportunity like this every day. if you’ve understood correctly, jihoon’s stuck in the same boat you are: painfully single, and not getting any younger.
and your mind starts to wander when out of nowhere your mind brings up a mental image of his long, slender fingers, and you can’t help but think about jihoon’s hands sliding up your legs and parting your folds, adding one finger, then another, then a third until you’re crying his name in relief, and–
jesus, it’s been way too long since you’ve gotten laid.
but even with just the passing thought of him, the nervous butterflies in your stomach travel lower, and you’re trying to will yourself to stop thinking about him before you ruin your only cute pair of panties.
you flick the bathroom lightswitch off and head to the living room to put something on tv, anything to clear your mind.
eventually your thoughts subside, and before you know it your doorbell is ringing and you’re scrambling to turn off the tv and make sure everything on your coffee table looks like it was put there intentionally and that you haven’t been anxiously adjusting it for the past hour.
you take a deep breath and turn the doorknob, but nothing could’ve prepared you for the man standing outside your door.
it almost feels like you’ve gotten the wind knocked out of you when you look at him. the sleek grey suitjacket that’s tailored perfectly around the broad shoulders you never noticed before (how the fuck did you not notice that before?). the too-tight white button down that frames the muscles in his chest. the way the cuffs of his sleeves are rolled up to the elbows, exposing forearms that are so toned, they look like they could deadlift a piano.
you don’t know who this man is, but he’s definitely not the shy mr. lee you’re used to seeing across the hall every day.
for some reason he seems to be equally taken aback by your outfit, which you honestly can’t understand why he would be, when he himself looks like that. but with the way he’s eyeing you up and down like he has to physically hold himself back from pouncing on you, suddenly this night just got a whole lot more exciting.
“hi,” you manage, still unable to take your eyes off of him. “you, uh… you look really good.”
it’s like he doesn’t even hear your compliment, he’s so focused on you. “i’ve, um– you–” he exhales sharply. “wow.”
you blink a few times, trying to clear your head of the barrage of dirty thoughts swirling around and get yourself back on track. “so. drinks?”
his eyes dart up to your face, seeming like he’s snapped out of it. “yes! yes. my friend owns a bar near the restaurant, so i thought it might be fun to start there.” he clears his throat, muttering under his breath. “although now, i think i have better things to do.”
you smile and nod, pretending you didn’t hear him, but oh my god you heard him and oh my god you’re not gonna last long tonight. you’d hate to bail on your date, but if things keep going how they have in the five minutes you’ve seen him, you don’t know how long you’ll be able to handle sitting next to him and not having his dick inside you in some way, shape, or form. 
you grab your purse and keys and lock your front door, following jihoon to his car. he pulls on the passenger side door handle, holding it open for you and even offering his hand to help you in.
you don’t know where this man came from out of nowhere, but you really kinda like it.
the drive across town is… tense, but somehow in a good way. it feels comfortable riding in his car; though you’ve only done it once before, it feels like you’ve been in his passenger seat your whole life.
“drinks are on me,” he says as you pull up in front of the bar, a swanky little place squished in between a used bookstore and an italian grill in a long line of shops. 
you smile politely, still fighting the heat creeping up in your cheeks. “jihoon, please, you don’t have to. i know how much you make in a year.”
he pulls his keys from the ignition, and the car falls silent. “and? tonight i’m spending it on you. it’s a special occasion.”
you don’t reply, partially because you’re already planning on paying for your own drinks when he isn’t looking, and partially because wtf does he mean it’s a special occasion?
you’re still immersed in trying to figure out what he means that you don’t notice when he check his side mirror for traffic and flings his door open when there’s a lull in cars whizzing by. he jogs in front of the car around to your side by the curb, opening your door and helping you out.
“thank you,” you mumble, trying to avoid staring at his chest that’s coincidentally right in front of your face.
at 5pm on a saturday evening the sidewalk is packed with people, and jihoon slides his arm around you, placing a hand gently on your lower back to guide you to the bar’s entrance. you have to force yourself not to shiver; despite the fabric of your thin sweater on top of your dress, it feels like his hand might as well be pressed against your bare skin.
you manage to find two seats at the bar, and a bartender in a black embroidered apron walks up when jihoon raises a hand to wave him over.
“if it isn’t lee jihoon,” the man grins, putting both hands on the counter. “nice to see you, buddy.”
“nice to see you, too, gyu.” jihoon turns to introduce you. “this is my friend, mingyu. he runs the place.”
you smile, offering him a polite greeting.
“so this is the lucky girl, hm?” mingyu asks, winking at you.
jihoon coughs, and you almost think you see him glare at the man, but his scowl quickly fades when he turns back to you. “ignore him. what do you want to drink?”
you give mingyu your order, and he smiles, pulling two glasses from the rack behind him. “the usual, uji?” he asks, and jihoon nods.
finally settling in, you shrug off your sweater, folding it carefully over the back of the chair before you notice jihoon staring at you.
“i’m gonna… go to the bathroom,” he says hurriedly. “i’ll be right back.” he gets up and dashes towards the back of the room, hands shoved deep in his pockets.
you turn to watch him disappear into the crowd, offering him a smile as he leaves. as soon as he’s out of sight, you grab your wallet from your purse, seeing your chance. jihoon is sweet, but you don’t need him to pay for your drinks, too. just being here with him is the most fun you’ve had in a long time.
you catch mingyu’s attention and wave him over, pulling out a few bills. you start to hand them to him, but he shakes his head. “sorry, no can do. i’ve been told not to let you pay for your drinks, it’s jihoon’s treat.”
you sigh and stuff the money back into your purse. fine.
“between you and me…” he starts, and you look back up at him curiously. “uji’s been really happy lately, and if i had to guess, you’re probably the reason why. so if things go bad on your date tonight, just… don’t break his heart, ‘kay?”
your eyes widen. “no, i wouldn’t– i wasn’t planning on–” you stammer, but he’s already walking away to refill somebody’s cocktail, and you’re left wondering what the hell he was talking about. 
it was only supposed to be a couple of friendly outings. you can’t feel this way about your coworker, someone you see right across the hall for eight hours a day every monday through friday… right? but if mingyu’s right (and you have no reason to believe he isn’t), then jihoon feels the same way about you. shit, this is deeper than you thought.
before you started… whatever this is with jihoon, you didn’t really talk to him much, even though your classrooms were right next door. you just never happened to see him in passing.
sure, you heard the off-key guitar solos from his students at nine in the morning on mondays and wednesdays, and every once in a while you saw him sitting alone in the teacher’s lounge, earbuds plugged in, nodding his head to whatever song he was listening to and tapping his fingers on the table. but it’s a big school, anyways; it’s easy to not know every teacher that works there, especially ones in a different department.
eventually jihoon comes back, and you spend the next couple hours sipping your drinks, chatting and laughing like you usually do. before you know it he’s looking down at his watch and cursing. “we should go, if we don’t wanna be late,” he says, downing the rest of his drink.
of course, it’s just your luck that now you have absolutely zero appetite for food, and an insatiable appetite for jihoon. his hair is messed, glistening a little as if he ran his fingers through it with water, and his cheeks are practically glowing.
jihoon reaches out for you, and you take his hand, letting him lead you out of the bar. mingyu waves goodbye, a grin on his face as he watches the two of you walk away. 
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the ride to the restaurant is more tense than you’d like it to be, but it’s probably imagined tension from you more than it is actual tension.
while you’re desperately trying to pretend you don’t want him to pull the car over and fuck you in the backseat, you don’t notice how he’s pretending he doesn’t want to turn the car around and drive home and fuck you there instead of going to this whole stupid dinner in the first place. you stare out your window, keeping your hands planted firmly in your lap, and he stares out the windshield, keeping his hands firmly wrapped around the steering wheel.
too quickly, you arrive at the restaurant and he parks in the lot out back. again, he gets out and jogs around to the passenger side to open your door for you again, offering his hand to help you out. your cheeks warm, and you hope he can’t tell how nervous you are.
walking through the lot towards the building, you recognize a few of your coworkers’ cars. past you that used to attend the teacher parties alone would’ve been a little disappointed that you’re so late to the event, but you that’s here now couldn’t care less about how late you show up, when you could be spending time alone with jihoon instead.
although, the amount of people around you tonight is probably for the best, because if they weren’t there you don’t think you’d be able to stop yourself from jumping him and fucking him in the middle of the restaurant.
he opens the door and smiles at the greeter, who leads you back to the private room where the rest of the party is. you feel jihoon’s grip on your waist tighten imperceptibly when the man glances at you for just a beat too long before showing you the table, and you force yourself to ignore the way your stomach does backflips at his touch.
the room is huge, with two long buffet tables for all the employees who are laughing and chatting. you find two empty seats near the end of the table and quickly a waiter comes over to offer you drinks. having already had enough to drink at mingyu’s bar, you settle for water, wanting to stay sober for whatever happens later. jihoon orders a coke.
some of the administrators order appetizers for the table, and as you wait for them to get passed down to you one of your coworkers walks over.
you look up at her and smile. “hey, jan–”
“hi, jihoon,” she purrs, completely ignoring you as she wraps her arm around your date’s shoulders, the martini in her hand sloshing with the movement. 
your smile drops, and you look away, focusing on the ice cubes in your glass as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world. at least, it’s more interesting than watching your married coworker shamelessly flirt with the man you’re supposed to be on a date with. you should’ve known a man as attractive as jihoon would have women throwing themselves at him all night. maybe this was a bad idea after all.
he stiffens, brows knitting into a scowl when he sees you avoiding him. “mrs. walker,” he greets her in response, tone flat. “is your husband not able to make it tonight? i had such a nice conversation with him last year about his business trip.”
she giggles. “oh no, he’s working tonight. but…” she trails off, smoothing a hand down his arm. “we could always go have a conversation about another kind of business instead.”
you nearly snort water out your nose at her forwardness, and for a second you contemplate ordering an uber and just going home right now. god, were all the teachers usually this bad, or had you just not noticed it until you were seated next to somebody like jihoon?
he clears his throat, a little too loudly. “sorry, but my date and i have plans,” he says.
at the mention of your name you glance over your shoulder, giving her a short nod before you return to staring at the water droplets rolling down the side of your glass. 
her grin falters, but she recovers quickly. “oh! i didn’t know you two came together,” she says, giving you a look as she sips her martini.
jihoon doesn’t respond, his arms crossed and staring at his empty plate. your coworker stands behind his chair in silence until the awkwardness is too much, and she lets out another forced laugh. “well, i’ll leave you be, then. but you have my number if you change your mind and wanna do something more fun tonight,” she mutters, downing the rest of her drink and stumbling off in search of the nearest waiter for another round.
the restaurant is filled with loud conversations, but an uncomfortable silence settles between you. 
so what if you are a little jealous? you surely have no right to be; you’ve only gone out with this man a handful of times, not nearly enough to call him yours. but for tonight, for right now, he’s your date, and you feel entitled to at least a little bit of sulking.
jihoon coughs a little, finally breaking the silence. “i’m sorry about her.”
you stir your straw around your water glass, still avoiding his eyes. “not your fault.”
“yeah, but still,” he says with a sigh. “she didn’t have to be an asshole to you.”
“it’s fine,” you say halfheartedly, bringing the plastic straw to your lips to take a small sip. “all the teachers get plastered at the staff parties.”
“you don’t, though,” he says after a pause.
“neither do you, looks like,” you say, pointing to the coke can in his hand.
he laughs. “no, not really… not when i have more fun things to do.”
for the second time that night you almost spit out your water. “that’s not funny, jihoon.”
“but you’re smiling,” he says, a grin of his own rising on his face, and you can’t hide the way your smile mirrors his.
you give in, letting out a laugh at his stupid joke, somehow both hating and loving how he was able to brighten your mood.
he smiles, his eyes sparkling under the restaurant lights. “do you maybe wanna… leave?”
ten minutes later, after a rushed goodbye to the assistant principal who was probably too drunk to even recognize you, your back is pressed against the side of jihoon’s car, your hands tangled in his hair as you moan into his mouth. his lips crash against yours, hands falling to your waist again as he pushes you into the passenger door.
when you pull away to take a breath, you can see his hair’s messed up again in that effortlessly sexy way that makes your heart race.
“can we go– someplace else?” you breathe. fuck if the back of your dress is totally dirty now from the car, you’re itching to get out of it—or have it taken off of you.
“shit, yes,” jihoon answers in between kisses up your jawline. “my place or yours?”
you whine at the feeling of his teeth against your skin. “anywhere, fuck– whatever’s closer.”
you find yourself in yet another extremely tense car ride as jihoon floors it down the highway, probably breaking more than a few traffic laws in his rush to get home. his house ends up being closer to the restaurant, so that’s where you decide on going.
he pulls in the driveway and you don’t even give him a chance to come around to open your door for you, jumping out of the car as soon as it’s turned off.
his hands fumble with his keys, but finally he gets the front door open and you both fall inside his house. the door slams shut behind you and immediately you’re shoved against it, jihoon’s hips pushing into you to keep you in place as you frantically grab at his broad shoulders to pull him closer. kissing him is addictive; the dizzying rush of his tongue in your mouth and his hands exploring your body makes you weak in the knees.
after a while you break apart, heaving for air as the lustful intensity starts to melt away into something more careful, but no less alluring. it’s finally starting to sink in that you’re kissing jihoon, you’re in his house, and you’re definitely getting laid tonight.
a sudden burst of confidence has you slipping one hand down, feeling his hips jerk when you palm him lightly over his pants.
“god, i’ve been hard for the past two hours,” he mutters through gritted teeth as your delicate fingers play with the top button on his slacks.
“you act like i haven’t been wet for the past two hours,” you reply, and he groans in relief when you undo the zipper, releasing some of the tension around his cock from how tight the dress pants were.
his hands grab at your waist, spinning you around to face away from him so he can unzip your dress. with how desperate he is—how you both are—you expect him to tug it off you as quickly as possible, but to your surprise, he moves slowly.
his hands smooth across your shoulders, running over your body through the fabric, and you shiver; the feeling of his touch is almost too much, even while you’re still fully clothed. his hands slide down your back, slowly moving to the sides of your breasts and traveling lower until they come to a stop at your waist.
he pulls you back against him, lightly grinding against your ass, and you whimper. you could already see he was, but now you know he really is as hard as he said, his clothed cock pressing into you.
his fingers move back up your body to toy with the zipper at the base of your neck, sending chills down your spine. he leans closer, and you can feel his breath on your neck as he leans in to press a kiss to the sensitive skin beneath your earlobe. 
“is this okay?” he breathes.
you whine, shifting on your feet to bring his lips back closer to you. “yes! please, jihoon.”
you can feel his smile against your neck before he dives back in, sucking lightly at your skin, burning hot under his touch. you’re sure he can feel your pulse racing a mile a minute as your legs start to buckle at the pleasure.
before you can stop yourself, you let out a loud moan, your head rolling back to rest against him and inadvertently exposing more of your neck to him. you feel his grip tighten around you, beginning to suck harder until you’re sure it’ll leave dark bruises. but for some reason, you don’t care. you want to carry around his marks on your neck. you want it to be a little obvious. if not for you, then to show that bitch jan what she was missing.
he pulls his mouth away from you and you whine again, but he just hums and puts his hands against your back, finally beginning to pull at the zipper.
he stops once it’s halfway down your body, moving his fingers back up to your shoulders to slip the fabric off, letting it hang around your waist.
he turns you around to face him, and you hastily reach around to unclasp your bra, letting it fall to the floor. he leans down and pushes his face into your bare breasts, moaning as he begins to sink to his knees in front of you.
if you hadn’t completely soaked through your panties earlier, you definitely have by now. you can feel the throbbing heat between your legs, begging for him to touch you, to do anything. 
he must read your mind, because immediately his hands reach behind you to grab onto the zipper again, tugging it down the rest of the way. he leaves a trail of kisses as the fabric falls to the side, starting in between your breasts and moving down lower, lower, past your belly button until he’s kissing the hem of your panties and your dress is in a pile at your feet.
you slip out of the dress, stepping out of your shoes as well as jihoon’s hands wrap around the backs of your thighs, pulling you into his face. he groans, his nose smushing against your clit through your underwear, and you gasp at the sudden contact.
he looks up at you, half his face obscured by the way he’s pressed against your body, only his eyes meeting yours, silently asking to continue. you whine out his name and another “please”, and that seems to satisfy him enough to loop his fingers underneath the waistband of your underwear and tug them down to your knees.
the moment he presses his mouth to your pussy is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. the way his tongue darts out, laving over every inch of the skin between your legs, has you squeezing your eyes shut in pure bliss and begging him not to stop. your hand shoots to his head, struggling for something to hold onto to keep you grounded at the sudden pleasure.
but just as you start to feel your orgasm approaching, he pulls off of you in a rush, panting as he sits back on his heels. he couldn’t have had his tongue on you for more than a few seconds, but it was more than enough to build you up before he tore you right back down.
he pulls your panties back up your legs, fixing them back at your hips as he stands up. you shoot him a panicked look. he’s not about to eat you out, not let you finish, and then bail on you… is he?
but he just wipes his hand across the back of his mouth and picks your dress and shoes up off the hardwood floor. “we’re still in the front doorway,” he chuckles. he puts his hand on your lower back, your warm skin prickling at his cool touch as he leads you down the hall to what you assume is his bedroom. “thought you’d be more comfortable here.”
he flicks on the light and tosses your dress and shoes at the foot of the bed while you look around. his room is small but tidy, a keyboard in one corner and a few different guitars mounted on the wall.
it’s a pretty cool room, and if you weren’t so incredibly horny right now, you’d ask him to tell you about all his things, but right now all you can focus on is the tent in his pants that you’re praying will find its way between your legs sometime soon.
you’re still on edge from the orgasm he pulled you away from earlier, so you fall onto his bed with no hesitation, hoping he’ll get the hint as you lay in nothing but your underwear.
and he does, immediately coming over to you and beginning to strip down.
you should be embarrassed about how wet you are right now, but when your insanely sexy coworker is hurriedly pulling his shirt off, practically ripping the buttons off at how fast he throws it off, you have more important things on your mind. 
he drops to his knees at the edge of the bed, so close you can feel his breath on your cunt. you throw your head back as his fingers slip beneath the waistband of your panties for a second time, effortlessly tugging them all the way off and tossing them into the pile along with the rest of your outfit.
he hums, collecting your wetness on the tip of his finger as he drags it through your folds. his hands are freezing cold in contrast to the heat between your legs. “so it wasn’t just me,” he says to himself, admiring the way his finger glistens with moisture.
“h-huh?” you stutter, lifting your head to look down at him. the way he’s crouching between your legs like he’s about to devour you makes you forget everything else that’s happened tonight.
he ghosts his lips over your clit, giving you a quick kiss. “for a while i thought you were only being friendly, when you went out with me all those times.” 
“but look how wet you are,” and he holds his finger up for you to see. “so it wasn’t just me that wanted you so bad. you wanted me too.”
he pushes his finger back into you for just a moment, spreading your juices around and wiping his fingers on the inside of your thigh. “wanted to bend you over that table in the coffee shop, the one in the corner we always sit at,” he groans out. “the counter in the teacher’s lounge, by the window. the bathroom sink at gyu’s bar earlier. and especially at the table at the restaurant. wanted to fuck you goddamn everywhere.”
“jihoon, please,” you whimper. him confessing how much he likes you turns you on, more than you’d like to admit.
“please, what?”
maybe it’s a little much to be asking for the first time with you, he’ll admit, but you’re both so desperate for each other, and you’re really enjoying it, so he figures he might as well go all out.
you throw your head back, but you give him what he wants. “please, will you eat me out, jihoon?”
and as much as he loves the way his name sounds falling from your lips, he’s not done with you yet. “soon,” he replies simply, and you start to protest until he shoves his finger back inside of you.
you try to hold back a yelp at his sudden touch, but it escapes you. he tsks, slowly adding a second finger and ignoring the way you shiver. “don’t be quiet, baby. with all the noise we make in my classroom, i never hear a peep out of you across the hall. i know you can be loud when you want to.”
and you do want to. it’s almost frightening how suddenly his personality has flipped– the shy man you only saw briefly in the halls now has you completely wrapped around his finger, begging him to touch you. and you don’t even care.
the next time he pumps his fingers in and out of your dripping hole, you don’t hold back your moans, breath catching in your throat as he begins to speed up. “there you go. good girl,” he coos in a low voice that makes you clench automatically around his fingers, and he grins mischievously. “you make such pretty sounds. should fuck you in my classroom next time, they’ve got better acoustics in there so i can hear your pretty voice better.”
you’re much too focused on the way his thumb is flicking your swollen clit to comprehend the way he says “next time” as if this isn’t a one time thing. but after, when you’ve recovered enough to remember the things said in the heat of the moment, those words are something you won’t forget.
“jihoon, please, don’t talk about work while you’re fucking me,” you manage.
he just grins and laughs, pushing his fingers into you faster. before you know it you feel your orgasm building back up, and you have to resist the urge to reach down and tug on his hair to get him to go faster.
but somehow he must know you’re getting close, because he leans forward and wraps his lips around your clit and starts sucking, hard. your back arches and you gasp, not expecting the sudden warmth of his mouth on you.
he flicks his tongue as his fingers continue to pump in and out of you, and with a cry of his name he finally lets you cum. your cunt clenches hard around his fingers, so tight he can barely keep moving them, but somehow he does, helping you through your orgasm as wave after wave of intense pleasure washes over you.
you lay on his bed, panting, trying to catch your breath as he stands up, finally removing his own underwear.
“are you alright?” he asks, and you sit up on your elbows, your vision returned enough to see him now standing nude in front of you.
your eyes are glued to his cock when you answer, staring at how gorgeous it looks and how badly you want him in your mouth. “yeah, i’m–”
“then get up.”
your eyes widen. “huh?”
“do you wanna be on top?” he asks, but you’re already shifting to move off of the bed.
“yes, please.”
he grins. “good.” he sits down where you were just laying, cock resting against his defined abs as you climb up to straddle him. immediately his hands find your waist, guiding you over him.
you push your hips down to grind your clit over his length, not putting him inside you just yet, but moving so he slides through your folds, coating him in your juices.
it’s almost pathetic how eagerly you’re writhing against him, sliding up and down his abs desperately. your eyes are squeezed shut as you concentrate on the pleasure, so you miss the way he stares up at you like you’re the best thing he’s ever seen.
what you don’t miss is the way his hands begin to grip more roughly at your hips, helping you ride him until he forces your movements to stop. you pry your eyes open to look at him.
“can i fuck you now?” he asks, and the sudden breathiness in his tone gives you a rush like you’ve never felt. 
“please, jihoon,” you whimper in response, voice equally as breathy. “please, been waiting all night.”
he leans his head back against the pillows and exhales, letting his eyes fall closed for a second. “good, because i was about to cum from that.”
you giggle, placing your hands flat on his chest. “well, that wouldn’t exactly be a bad thing.”
he groans. “i know, but then i wouldn’t get to fuck you.”
you lean down to kiss him and he melts into your lips, his hands sliding up your back to grip at your shoulders and pull you closer.
he pushes up and manages to flip you over onto your back again, pressing one more kiss to your lower lip before shuffling down the bed. you spread your legs apart to give him better access, and he positions himself between them, looking down at you with a woozy smile on his face.
he begins pushing into you and you moan. the feeling of being full is something you haven’t felt in a while, but the feeling of being full of jihoon is a completely different story, and you don’t know whether you could go back to anyone else, even if you wanted to.
he pauses for a minute to let you adjust, and you breathe a sigh of relief when you finally feel him pull out and slowly push back in.
“god, you feel so fucking good,” he whines as he starts to increase his pace, hips rocking against yours.
you let your head fall back against the pillows in open-mouthed pants. “more, jihoon, please.”
he leans down and pushes your thighs up against your chest, holding your legs as he continues to pound into you. you vaguely register the praises that fall from his lips with how good he feels inside of you, each thrust angled perfectly to have you already coming closer and closer to the edge.
“jihoon– please! ‘m so close, please let me cum,” you sputter, hands fisting at the sheets for something to hold on to. you don’t know where this side of you came from all of a sudden, asking him for permission, but you can’t deny you kind of like it.
“go on, baby, cum for me,” he says, his voice low and breathy.
and with one more thrust you do, falling apart around him as pleasure burns through every inch of you. all you can do is whimper and let him fuck you through your orgasm, your vision going blank for a few seconds from so much stimulation all at once.
he keeps pushing into you, only easing his pace when you blink up at him, slowly coming back down to earth. your walls spasm around him in the aftershocks of your orgasm, and you feel his cock twitch inside of you when you murmur out his name. his thrusts get sloppier and more hurried as he begins to chase his own orgasm. 
“wh–where do you want me to–”
“on my face?” you interrupt, answering his question for him.
he curses under his breath, immediately followed by a low moan. “you’re gonna be the death of me,” he mutters. you clench around him and he swears again, finally pulling out of your cunt and holding his cock above you.
his hand moves quickly back and forth along his length as he chases his high, and it hits when you open your mouth wide, letting your tongue loll out, the lustful look on your face making him lose his mind.
his thick spurts of cum cover your upper half, painting your chin, your neck, your collarbones with white. the little bit that lands on your tongue you eagerly swallow, opening again to show him your empty mouth afterwards, and he groans at the sight.
he rolls over onto the bed, spent. the room is quiet for a minute, the only sound your soft exhales and his labored breathing as it begins to slow.
he presses a kiss to your cheek and slides off the bed, leaving the room for a second before he returns with a cool, wet washcloth, gently cleaning you off. in the moments he’s gone you sigh, feeling the softness of the sheets beneath you and basking in the fading glow of your orgasm.
since it’s saturday night and your sundays are usually free, you decide to spend the night with him. both of you are too exhausted to drive, and jihoon is more than happy to let you stay over. of course he would never force you to stay and he would happily pay for your uber home if you wanted, but he won’t deny that he secretly was hoping to spend a little more time with you before school on monday.
you scrub the makeup off your face as best you can and slip into the clothes he offered you, a t-shirt and a pair of soft cotton shorts. after getting cleaned up and comfortable, he makes a small pot of coffee and shows you the rest of his house. it’s a cute little place; not the biggest, but just right for him.
there’s an instrument in almost every room, and now you sit at the edge of his bed wrapped in a blanket, working up the courage to ask him if he’ll play something for you. “i always hear your students, but i’ve never heard you,” you laugh.
he smiles and pulls one of his guitars off the wall, just a hint of a blush creeping into his cheeks as he adjusts the tuning pegs. he strums a couple notes, humming along quietly as he settles into a gentle rhythm.
later, you’re lying in bed with him (he offered to sleep on the couch and let you have his bed to yourself, but you insisted on him staying). the colored lamp on his bedside table is on, casting a soft red glow around the room.
the sheets rustle as he rolls over onto his side. “i’m sorry if it was… intense, earlier,” he says quietly. “i was–” he pauses, thinking of his next words carefully. “i was excited. you’re so… i really admire you. so i might’ve been a little too eager.”
with a little effort you manage to roll over to face him. you reach across the sheets to run your hand through his hair, gently tucking it behind his ear. “don’t apologize,” you whisper. “it was perfect.”
he sighs, and even in the dim red light you can see his shoulders visibly relax. “i’m glad you decided to spend the night,” he whispers back.
you smile. “me too.”
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“so you have a boyfriend now?”
you glance up, trying not to instinctively rub at the fading marks on your neck. “and what makes you think that?” you say. okay, so maybe you do technically have… something, now.
“i saw pictures of you and mr. lee on the school’s facebook from the christmas party,” heather says nonchalantly.
before you can even think of a response, something like, “why are you searching for pictures of me,” or, “since when does the school have a facebook profile?”, she shrugs and goes back to her grammar assignment. you were so caught up in jihoon at the party that you honestly don't even remember anyone taking pictures, but you can only hope they didn’t catch the way you were looking at each other in a decidedly not pg-rated way, right before you decided to leave the event.
you hold in a laugh, watching her. she doesn’t say anything more, so you look back at the homework in front of you, waiting to finish being graded. a shiver runs down your spine at the memory of jihoon’s hands roaming your body over the weekend, coaxing orgasm after orgasm out of you with his fingers and his tongue and his beautiful cock.
“if you two get married, can i be the flower girl?” you hear a minute later, interrupting the silence—and your naughty daydreams. “since it was me that got you together.”
“we’ll see,” you glare playfully, raising your eyebrows. after saturday night spent together and the following lazy sunday afternoon filled with soft kisses in between heated touches, you can’t say it isn’t entirely out of the question. but that’s not something you’re about to tell heather and her little gossip group. those details, you’ll have to keep to yourself.
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kdogreads · 11 months
Note
Your imagine of being chibs old lady is the cutest, sweetest, loviest thing I’ve ever read 😭😭😭😭. Could I pretty please have more? Maybe when they meet or the early days of the relationship
Thank you so much, sweet anon💕 I’ve been traveling a lot for work so I haven’t had time to turn this into as long of a fic as I would have liked. Part 2 will dive deeper into the early days of this sweet relationship. :)
I hope you enjoy nonetheless!
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Very Soon
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Summer, early 1990s, Charming, CA
You’d lived in Charming your whole life and worked at the same damn diner since you were 16. Until very recently, that is, you started working at St. Thomas Hospital.
The Sons were familiar to you, and you to them, most of them calling you by your first name when you’d cross paths. They’d come in to your little diner regularly over the years and you’d built a friendly relationship with the club. They were the only mechanics in town you trusted to do good work for a fair price, so when you blew a tire just down the road from the shop, you started walking that way.
You walked around to the garage where the guys were working on all kinds of bikes and cars. Tig was the first one to spot you and headed your way. He shouted your name with his normal enthusiast demeanor.
“Hey, darlin’. How ya doing? Are you alright?”
“I’m okay, thanks, but I hit a pothole or something just around the corner, tore my tire and rim all up. You guys got time for a tow?” You asked him in defeat, slugging your bag over your shoulder.
“Oh, anything for you, sweetheart. I’ll pull the truck around,” He waved for the chestnut-haired Scotsman who was working away on a Harley, “You need a lift? Got somewhere to be?” Tig put a hand on your shoulder gently, careful to keep the interaction light, respectful.
“Nowhere to be but here,” You teased back, punching him in the shoulder playfully.
“Good thing Chibs here has a clear schedule then to keep you company, darlin’,” He patted the Scot on the back, a grin spread wide across his face.
Tig gave you a wink and a turned around to go pick up your incapacitated car. Chibs smiled and extended his arm out, pointing you in the direction of the clubhouse. You’d never been inside before, but you’ve apparently been around enough now to be invited in. You’d always been friendly with Chibs, not unlike the other guys, but there’d always been an extra sense of flirtation with him, his eyes lingered a bit longer on you after every interaction.
He held the door open for you as you stepped into the dimly-lit barroom. The smell of cigarettes, weed and booze invaded your senses. A few heads turned when you walked through the door, but as soon as they spotted Chibs behind you, they just nodded your way. A blush suddenly crept onto your cheeks knowing you were only allowed in because you were being escorted by a member.
“Fancy a drink, sweetheart?” You nodded with a smile, and Chibs handed you a cold beer before leading you to the end of the bar top where two barstools sat empty.
“Thank you, Chibs,” You chirped as you slung back a swig of the icy liquid.
He muttered something you didn’t quite catch, so you raised an eyebrow his way. Playfully questioning his words.
“It’s Filip,” He spoke nonchalantly between sips, “Figure someone oughtta use it.”
You smiled at his openness towards you. The only interactions you’d really had with him before now had been in passing at the diner or when he’d been patching up your car, but there was always something in the way he spoke. A certain lilt in his tone that always made your heart flutter. You thought it might just be his accent, but you were happy to learn you might be wrong about that.
“Alright, Filip,” You spoke, just a hint of flirtation in your voice, “However will you entertain me for the next several hours?” You leaned an elbow on the counter top and smiled up at him.
He looked around playfully, nodding his head towards the other side of the room.
“Know how ta play, lass?” He motioned towards the worn pool table, the hint of a smile tugging one side of his mouth.
“Yeah, kinda. Haven’t played for a long time, but I’m sure you can remind me,” You took a sharp breath in before setting your beer down and hopping off your barstool.
When you stood up, Filip didn’t move at first, so you extended your hand to him, a playful, “come on,” dancing from your lips. That was all it took to lift him to his feet, his gaze drifting to the floor momentarily, probably to disguise the blush flooding his scarred cheeks.
He took this new job of teaching you how to be a star pool player very seriously. He’d squint his eyes and get down level with the velvet tabletop, explaining something about the angles and torque needed to get the ball where you wanted it to go. You kept up as best as you could, all of his strategy and technique basically just flowing in one ear and straight out the other.
Sensing your patience thinning, Filip decided it was time to show you how to properly shoot the ball. It was exactly as you’d seen it in the movies. He planted himself firmly behind you, each of his broad arms in line with your thinner ones.
“Nice ‘n’ easy, now,” He spoke quietly, his breath close enough to tickle the hairs flowing over your shoulder, “No’ too much force, righ’ there on the far side o’ the ball.”
You tried not to react to his close proximity, but you couldn’t stop the shiver that shot up your spine. A shaky breath fell from your lips.
“Nervous, lass?” Filip’s lips almost brushed against your ear this time. He knew exactly what he was doing.
“Not at all, Filip,” You popped the “p” a bit more than necessary, turning your head slightly to meet his deep brown gaze for a beat before sinking two balls into the corner hole.
“Aye, s’pose no’ then,” He growls with an amused look on his face.
You turn to face him, comfortably trapped between the old wooden table and Filip’s broad body, his arms resting on the oak on either side of you. He takes a deep breath and sinks down so you are face-to-face. You just stare into each other’s gazes for a moment, both of you thinking about your next move.
“Yer beautiful, lass, always thought so,” Filip whispered, his hand raising to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.
A blush crept up your chest and spilled onto cheeks. His gaze was not demanding, but invasive. He filled all of your senses like a rushing waterfall, waves breaking above your head over and over again without giving you a moment to breathe.
“Can I —,” You began, knees feeling like they could buckle at any moment under the weight of his presence, “Can I kiss you, Filip?
He didn’t respond for a beat, a smile daring to creep onto his face. He lifted his other hand from the table behind you and cupped both sides of your face, leaning his body into yours. His lips were softer than you expected as he pressed them to your own, planting a sweet peck onto them.
“Aye, lass, only if I can kiss you back,” His words sparking a smile to spread across your face. You leaned back into him and kissed him again, deeper this time. Your lips crashing together and apart time after time. Filip’s tongue licked a swipe across your bottom lip, sliding into your mouth to explore each part of it. You were so lost in the feeling of tongues melding together that you must have missed the recognizable squeak of the heavy clubhouse door.
“Uh, hey,” An amused Tig began, you straightened up quickly with an embarrassed giggle rising in your throat, “If you’re done sticking your tongue down Chibby’s throat, sweetheart, you car is ready to roll.”
You let the laughter spill out of your mouth as you leaned your head down to rest on Filip’s chest. He wrapped one arm around your waist as the other pretended to shield you from Tig’s view, a chuckle escaping Chibs’ cheeky smile, too. You nodded at Tig with a smile still on your face. He turned around to head back out the door shaking his head and laughing.
“I guess ya better be on yer way then, darlin’,” Chibs smiles to you, his hands still planted firmly on your waist. You only nodded up at him before leaning back into his chest and snaking your arms around his broad torso. His strong arms wrapped around you again as he planted a kiss on the top of your head. The two of you stayed there a moment, wrapped up in nothing but each other before you pulled away from him.
“I’ll be seeing you soon then, Filip?” You asked as you a stepped towards the bar top to grab your bag. Before you could register it, your hand was caught in Chibs’ tight grasp. You spun your head around with a confused look on your face.
“Aye, lass,” He brought your hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss into your knuckles, “Very soon.”
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Part two here 🥰🤪
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ctitan98official · 3 months
Text
RE8 women get pregnant by Y/N: Elena
Okay, so a while ago someone requested angst involving the RE8 women falling out of love with Y/N. The first one I did in that series was for Alcina. You can read it here! It’s the backstory for this! I have been thinking about it and I want to expand on the AU so here we go. This one’s somewhat dark. Let’s get into it!
When Alcina cheated on you and broke your heart, you thought there was a good chance you might never recover.
You cut ties with her immediately for your own mental health. You couldn’t stand to be around her any longer.
Things got better after a few months, though. You even met somebody new.
Elena Lupu was easily the kindest person in the village. She and her father, Leonardo, took you in when you offered to be his carpentry apprentice.
As gruff as Leonardo could be, he liked you. He knew that Elena had developed feelings for you as well, but he decided to stay out of it and let you two figure things out for yourselves.
Elena went for walks with you through the village and happily clung onto your arm as you two talked.
You felt yourself begin to crave her presence and realized that you had developed a crush on her.
After a few months of dating, you ended up asking Elena if she would marry you (With Leonardo’s permission first, of course!)
Your wedding, while not fancy, was beautiful.
“Y/N, I never knew I could be so happy. I love you, sweetie.” She says and kisses you during your first dance at the reception.
“I love you, babe. You healed me. You make everything better.” You smile back.
The reception was a lot of fun. As you were hanging out with some buddies and having a drink, Alcina actually had the nerve to show up… Admittedly, you had only seen her from down the street, but why would she try to crash your wedding?
You go up to her and hear what she has to say.
Alcina tearfully apologizes and asks you to come back.
You angrily told her how pathetic it was of her to come and try to fix things after so much time had passed. You walked away leaving Alcina sobbing.
You felt guilty about what you had said, but it also felt kind of good to inflict a bit of pain after the torment and hell she put you through.
——————————————————————————
A couple of months later, you and Elena had moved into your own little house.
Elena woke you up every morning with a kiss to your lips and some cuddles. It was the best way to start the day.
You still worked as a carpenter, but you had now started working with Leonardo as more of a partner.
After a long and exhausting day, it was so nice to come home to your lovely wife.
Lately though, Elena had started feeling extremely sick.
She would frequently stumble out of bed in the middle of the night to run and empty her stomach in the toilet.
You always rubbed her back and held her hair away from her face.
During a particularly bad episode, you urge her to go see someone who could try and help her.
“Babe, I think you need to see a doctor. Mother Miranda, anybody.” You begged. You were so worried for your wife.
Elena cups your face. “I know, baby. Let me freshen up and I’ll join you in bed.” She says as she goes to brush her teeth and gestures for you to hop back into bed.
When Elena is finished, she cuddles next to you and turns to bury her face in your neck. “Y/N? I have something I need to tell you.” She says, suddenly very nervous.
You immediately think the worst. “What is it?! What’s wrong, babe?” You say and hold her closer.
Elena laughs at your reaction and shushes you softly. “Everything is okay, Y/N. I’m fine.” She says and pulls back to look at you. “I actually have been to see Mother Miranda. I went a few days ago. She gave me some very interesting news.”
You raise an eyebrow in confusion. “You did? What did she say?” You ask.
Elena takes a deep breath. “Y/N… We’re going to have a baby.” She says and looks you in the eyes. “I’m pregnant.”
You are silent for a bit, which raises Elena’s anxiety, before you throw your hands up and cheer. “We’re gonna be parents?! That’s so awesome!” You exclaim.
Elena feels like a huge weight has been lifted off her shoulders and tears begin to fall down her cheeks in joy. She brings you in for a kiss.
You begin bouncing up and down in excitement.
She laughs at your childlike reaction.
“I take it you’re happy, sweetie?” She jokingly asks and takes your hand to put it on her stomach.
You kiss her once more before leaning down and placing a kiss on her belly. “So happy, babe!” You say.
The two of you excitedly talk about your future for a long time that night.
——————————————————————————
About a month after finding out about the baby, winter strikes with a vengeance. It hasn’t been this bad in the village for years.
Leonardo got badly injured after a fall at a job a few weeks ago so he is staying with you and Elena.
Work has started to dry up for you because people in the village are barely able to scrape by as it is.
Food has become scarce in your household and you and Leonardo frequently give Elena most of your food.
Normally, Elena would refuse it, but with the baby coming, she feels like she needs to eat what she can get. She now has a responsibility to keep the baby as healthy as possible.
You are the only one able to work right now and you take odd jobs here and there.
A little further on into Elena’s pregnancy, you are getting desperate.
You are the most malnourished out of the three, but you feel as though you have to go without to make sure Elena has everything she needs.
Elena has been so understanding and often holds you as you cry about feeling like a bad provider.
“I’m s-so s-sorry, babe!” You sob. “I’m a f-failure!”
Elena’s heart aches at your words. “Sweetie, you are the best spouse anyone could ask for. You are doing everything to keep me and the baby healthy. This is a rough spot, but we will get through it. Together.” She assures and kisses your forehead. “I love you so much, Y/N.” She says and brushes her fingers through your hair. Then she smiles. “And the baby does too! They only kick when you speak.” She giggles and rubs her belly.
You laugh at Elena’s words. “Thanks, babe. You make me so happy… You do too, baby.” You say and rub her tummy.
One night, as you watch Elena eat what little food you have been able to afford and gently cradle her growing stomach, you make a decision.
You never thought you would have to lower your self-worth so much, but the only option you have now is to go to the one person who you know can help. Alcina.
You kiss Elena on the forehead as she sleeps before you sneak out in the middle of the night and brave the elements to get to Castle Dimitrescu.
The snow and wind is bitterly cold as your weakened body trudges closer to your destination.
Upon setting foot on the castle grounds, you are suddenly grabbed and hauled to the castle dungeons by a swarm of insects.
You know it is either Bela, Cassandra, or Daniela. Whoever it was must not have recognized you and thought you were some random trespasser
You are thrown roughly onto the dirty dungeon floors and you whip your head around to see who captured you.
Brown locks and a necklace with a yellow gem adorning it alert you that Cassandra is the one who brought you here.
“Cass! Cass, it’s me, Y/N!” You plead.
Cassandra’s eyes grow wide as she realizes it’s you, however, her surprise is quickly overtaken by anger.
“What the hell are you doing here, you traitor!” She snaps harshly.
You hang your head in shame. You pretty much abandoned the girls because you couldn’t look at them without thinking of Alcina, but they had become like your children as well… It was a selfish move to leave and not give them an explanation.
“I’m sorry, Cass… But, please, I need to speak with your mother. It’s important.” You beg in a defeated tone.
Cassandra snarls but as she takes in your features, she feels sympathy. You look thin and gaunt. The dark circles under your eyes and sunken-in cheeks cause Cassandra physical pain.
“What… What’s wrong, Y/N?” She asks, now concerned for you.
“It’s a long story. Please, it’s urgent, Cass.” You say.
Cassandra thinks for a moment, while looking at your frail body, and growls in annoyance. “Fine.” She says gruffly and helps you up off the floor.
The walk to Alcina’s room is quiet. You try to thank Cassandra for her help but she just glares at you dangerously.
She refuses to open herself up to you now. You have lost her trust and it cuts you to the bone.
You finally arrive and Cassandra knocks on the door.
“Come in.” Alcina calls out and you stiffen at the sound of her voice.
Cassandra opens the door and you follow her inside.
Alcina is sat at her vanity getting ready for bed. She turns around to face Cassandra, but she lets out a choked gasp at seeing you.
You wince at seeing Alcina again. You feel like an idiot for even coming, but… You had to do something. “Hi, Alcina.” You say quietly.
Cassandra quickly excuses herself. She can’t stand to hear what you have to say in case it’s bad news. Just because she’s mad at you, it doesn’t mean she’s stopped caring.
“Y/N… Why have you come here?” Alcina asks, trying to shake off the hope that you have come back to her for good.
“Well… I…” You begin but trail off.
Alcina looks you over and notices how thin you are. “Y/N… Are you sick, darling?” She asks and moves to place a hand on your shoulder.
You flinch. “No!” You shout at Alcina’s advance.
She pulls her hand away and feels her heart break at your reaction.
You sigh and try to calm yourself with a few deep breaths. “Listen, I need your help, Alcina.” You admit.
Alcina raises an eyebrow. “What do you need help with, Y/N?” She asks in confusion.
“My… Um. My wife.” You say, feeling very uncomfortable bringing up Elena to Alcina.
Alcina’s eyes darken. “Yes?” She prompts in a cold voice. In her mind, Elena is the reason you haven’t come back to her yet.
“Well… She is… I mean we…” You struggle to find your words.
Alcina rolls her eyes. “Please get on with it, Y/N. The less I have to hear about her the better.” She says bitterly.
You let out a groan. “She’s pregnant, Alcina. With my child.” You say.
Alcina lets out a shocked gasp at what you said.
“It’s been a rough winter, you know?” You say, trying to ignore the wide-eyed stare from Alcina. “I’m trying to provide, but… The whole village is struggling. I can’t afford to keep her fed and cared for properly… I’m just asking for any food you can spare.” You say quietly. “It’s not for me! It’s for Elena and the baby. Well, and Leonardo, her father.” You clarify.
Alcina brings a hand to her mouth in surprise… She feels incredibly jealous. That could be her having your baby, not Elena. However… She reasons that the baby is at least part of you and she hates the idea of anything happening to them because she knows that it would destroy you.
Alcina rubs her eyes and she finally comes to a decision. “Y/N? Bring your family here to the castle. I want you all to stay. We’ll take care of you, I swear it.” She promises.
Your jaw almost hits the floor. “W-what?” You ask in astonishment.
Alcina sighs. “Y/N, I know you are incredibly angry at me for my actions. I want to do right by you… Please?” She asks.
You bite your lip as you think. Alcina was always good at making you feel like you were important enough to be looked after. You would have to keep your guard up with her, though. You didn’t know if she had some kind of ulterior motive.
You let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding and give her your answer. “Thank you, Alcina.” You say. “My family will be so grateful.” You add.
Alcina feels an odd sense of accomplishment and satisfaction. She loves that she’s able to help you.
“Of course, Y/N.” She smiles softly. “Why don’t you go and get your family. I’ll have some of my staff prepare rooms for you.” She suggests.
You nod and feel yourself smile at her. This is the Alcina that you had originally fallen in love with.
Note: Ooh! Cliffhanger! I’m definitely going to make a part 2 for this one. Let me know what you think!
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thesunshineriptide · 2 years
Text
Masquerade!
Cater, Jade, and Floyd
(romantic)
CW// romantic, thrill seeking (Floyd)
Cater: Follow the White Rabbit [inspired by this art by @estcaligo ]
Cater trails at the edge of the room, turning to give you a sly smirk from behind his mask. He’s dressed in white and red and black, in something clearly inspired by his dorm uniform. He makes eye contact, then, once you’ve started moving toward him, he pretends to check the time on his phone, and walks out of the main room to the hall
He waits, a smirk on his face until he sees you round the corner. Once you try and approach, he darts off down another hall, letting out a tiny laugh
He continues this game over and over until the two of you manage to get outside into the gardens, where he finally waits for you at the fountain.
As you approach, he smiles widely, holding his hand out to you
“Did you like our game? I was worried I’d lose my favorite follower.”
“Ha ha.” You say dryly before taking his hand, “We did this for what, exactly?”
He hums, tugging you closer, “I saw these gardens on the way in. They’re pretty eye-catching, aren’t they? Couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see you in them.”
You hum, ending up on his lap, “That’s all? You didn’t wanna wait until we were leaving?”
“Right, because you weren’t getting overwhelmed. That’s why you followed me.” He’s teasing, but…he’s right, “Plus, we can take pictures of you out here. The gardens are all to ourselves.”
Of course. Well, since you’re there, he’ll gladly take every picture of you he can. He’s the type to get down into crazy poses just to get the right angle of you, and that’s exactly what he does.
The party is nearly over by the time you return, but it was worth it. Especially since you managed to have one dance alone with him in the garden with his own singing as your melody.
Cater can dance pretty well, too, and manages to dip you and do several spins as he sings for the two of you. He did step on your shoe on accident though…
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Jade: In Dreams He Came
If you thought anyone in NRC was dramatic, you have failed to realize just how dramatic the twins can be.
This is evident the moment Jade walks into the room, fashionably late and intimidating, pausing in the doorway as the room goes silent.
“My, my. Have I stolen the breath of the room? Truly, I must look captivating for that~”
Someone laughs, and the tension breaks, everyone resuming as they were.
Jade makes his way toward you, sharp smile partially hidden under his mask.
“Good evening, fair stranger. Might I have this next dance?”
The way Jade can control a room so easily when he wishes to is, frankly, a little terrifying. The moment he takes you to the dance floor, people are clearing the way. Whether it’s because everyone knows him - this is still, technically, a school function - or simply because of the look in his eyes, it’s hard to tell.
He’s a frankly amazing dancer, despite only having legs for a year or so. They way he moves is just as flawless and careful as everything else he does, and when he goes to dip you, it can only be described as seeing stars (in a good way, of course)
But just as soon as he came, and just as fast as he swept you onto the dance floor, the minute your song is done, he practically disappears. Nobody can find him - or at least, nobody says they saw him, and it seems you can’t find him either.
Of course, that’s not to say that he was never there. When you see him passing in the hall next, here’s a sly smirk on his face and a glint in his eye as he brushes past you
Floyd: Phantom of the Theme Park
Floyd “I only do things for fun” Leech is not exactly your best bet on attending a fancy party with
Which is why when he finally found you at the masquerade, looking just a little nervous and a lot mischievous, you knew immediately that tonight wasn’t going to plan.
He managed a good fifteen minutes, long enough to have made an appearance, then snatched your hand and grinned as he whispered, “I’ve got somewhere more fun for this”
Apparently what he meant was that he found an abandoned amusement park not too far away, and borrowed a blastcycle to take you there.
The chaotic asshat that was your date was overly excited to take you to a probably haunted abandoned amusement park while in fancy clothes. He was even more excited to play the abandoned games, wander through the abandoned rides with you, and maybe make out in the (super haunted) hall of mirrors
He’s also pretty excited when he gets to drive around on the roller coaster tracks on the blastcycle and have you cling to him for dear life. Don’t worry, you…probably won’t get hurt.
You both definitely lost your masks some time ago, though.
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wishing-stones · 1 year
Note
Would the boys treat us on our birthday? Follow up question! Do they even do anything special for eachothers birthdays or do they just let them pass?
I can assume his birthday is not something Nightmare would want to talk about a lot-
They would!
Read more for length, like usual.
Assuming that you've worked past the defenses of everyone and are in a romantic relationship...
Killer wakes up at dawn to get everything ready, and he's so quiet about it that you wake up with balloons and banners and shit in your room when you wake up. It's super cute, and he's enthusiastic about it. He loves a good party and celebration, so it's an excuse to flex that joy of his. Dust Is much more low-key about it, and will quietly steal you for a moment to give you a gift and wish you a happy birthday. He's a lot sweeter than he normally is, too, and the gift is very thoughtful. Axe picks your favorite foods to cook for every meal, and makes an enormous three-tiered cake with lots of candles. Cooking for others is how he expresses his affection, and he's a little lame at actual gift giving. Cross Gets you a useful, thoughtful gift and spends some time one-on-one with you, away from any obligations or duties either of you might have. He's yours for most of the day, at least. Baggs makes time to spend with you and has made you something useful! Something useful and unique that helps with whatever you're having issues with lately. Nightmare is the one who goes all out in a grand, sweeping gesture of appreciation and celebration. Banners, balloons, a mountain of presents, a massive cake (all helpfully supplied by both he and the boys) and a very, very fancy candlelit dinner somewhere away from all of your troubles. You also get breakfast in bed, and he'll sit and detangle your hair while you have it. For a being of negativity, he's very affectionate when there's a good reason for it.
Dream is much the same, although his idea of a grand, sweeping gesture is to take you out to wherever your favorite place is-- or favorite verse, if you have one-- and spend the day there! He's blocked out his entire day for some one-on-one time, too, has thoughtful gifts, and made a lovely cake for you, too. Ink has it highlighted with tons of arrows on his scarf so he doesn't forget, and takes you travelling for the day! Anywhere you wanna go, he'll take you! He's also made you a truly stunning painting, whatever you'd most enjoy having. He's also a fan of the 'romantic, candlelit dinner' trope, and thinks the best way to end the day is with fireworks. Have you seen the fireworks in the cyber world? There's nothing like it! Blue goes hard in the paint with celebrating, too, and spoils you rotten. Or... he tries. He might try a little too hard to make the day perfect and get upset if something works. Just remind him that spending the day with him and the fact that he's putting so much effort into it is enough, and he'll be happy.
annndd Error will offer to take you somewhere nice, quiet, away from everything that stresses you out and bothers you. He's sewn or knitted something for you, and he's content to just... chill out with you for the day.
As for the second half-
Yes, they do. They know when each other's birthdays are and celebrate them as well. Not to the romantic extent that they'd do it for you, but they definitely wake one another up with party horns and poppers. (Except Nightmare, because no one wants to die.) But, speaking of, they do know when his birthday is, and they do celebrate it kind of low-key. It's nowhere near the bombastic extravaganza they make of one another's, but he gets a cake and presents when he comes back from whatever he does on the day. (He leaves a present where his brother will find it, addressed to him. Dream does the same thing. When Dream was still encased in stone, Nightmare would sit next to him and vent about his frustrations, about how he hated everything that happened and that he was still angry with him... but he still wished his brother happy birthday.)
And speaking of their birthdays...
Killer's birthday is May 10 Dust's birthday is February 10 Axe's birthday is January 16 Cross' birthday is October 10 Baggs and Error's birthday is April 4th Nightmare and Dream's birthday is December 21 Ink's birthday is April 15th and Blue's birthday is April 1
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esta-elavaris · 9 months
Text
Theorrington ‘doubt thou the stars are fire’ alternate ending for Part One of CTW.
OKAY -- oneshot inspired by this diabolical request over on AO3, in which James finds Theo before she leaves Port Royal at the end of TCOTBP.
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I had a lot of fun with it, I’ll post it on the fic sites once I’m done with the current storyline over on SBTS, there’s a note before it start just explaining a bit of a plot hole that I did what I could to remedy.
Enjoy the suffering bone apple tea 💜✨
[2,916 words]
A/N: So the timing of this oneshot really doesn’t shape out in terms of technical story-telling. Theo would have had to have left pretty quickly after James did in the “official” story, as she’d have been aiming to swim out to the Pearl more or less the second it appeared, arriving aboard before Jack. After all, it’s not like it would’ve hung about after Jack was aboard, and what is she going to do? Swim after it? If things shaped out how they do here, she wouldn’t have gotten to the Pearl in time, but let’s just suspend our disbelief for the sake of hurting our own feelings.
Theo moved down the stairs as quietly as possible, staying on the balls of her feet and doing her utmost to avoid Hattie spotting her. There’d be a scene and a half if she spotted her – dressed for action and with a pack, too, with whatever she had that she thought might get her through the next few, well, however long of pirating and clawing her way back into Jack’s good graces. She’d had to wait until the maid was fully occupied stripping the bed in James’ room, and even then she didn’t dare call out until she was near the bottom of the stairs.
“Hattie! I’m going to Fort Charles after all – if I hurry, I can be there in time.”
Footsteps drew nearer, moving from James’ bedroom to the hallway – the wince on Theo’s face was saved from becoming an outright grimace when they didn’t continue down the hall, though, as she seemed to linger in the doorway to make sure she’d heard her properly.
“Are…are you sure, miss?”
It was clear the decision wasn’t one she particularly agreed with, but propriety stopped her from voicing it plainly.
“Yeah- yes. It’s…it’s something I need to do. I’ll see you later, all right?”
“Very well. I’ll see to your chamber while you’re gone, then.”
“Thank you, Hattie.”
There was a weight to the words that had her worrying the younger woman would smell a rat, but thankfully it turned out that it was just her guilty conscience speaking. Stepping out of the front door, she pulled her pack about her to make sure it was secure, and then toyed with the hood of her cloak, readying to pull it up. She’d abandon it once she hit the beach – mostly because she didn’t fancy her chances at swimming in it – but it was just to hide both who she was, and the fact that she was dressed as a man.
A horse was coming up the road, she couldn’t yet see it but she could hear it, and otherwise all seemed to be quiet. The entire settlement would be down at the fort to witness the hanging, so once this rider passed, she’d take her chances and run for it. But when the horse galloped into sight – and then towards the house rather than past it – her heart dropped. When she saw who sat atop it, her heart continued to drop until it was at risk of falling out of her backside.
James caught sight of her and his face brightened – and she knew then that it had all happened as it was supposed to, and why he was so excited. And it broke her heart.
“Theodora,” he breathed, leaping from the horse and striding towards her.
In his excitement, he had not yet noticed her dress. But he was an observant man, and when he saw the look on her face (no doubt very much looking like the kid with their hand in the cookie jar), his eyes trailed down to her cloak, and the fact that it was very clearly not disguising a wealth of skirts. Taking up a part of the fabric between his fingers, he pulled it aside to reveal her clothing. Or rather, his clothing. One of his shirts and a pair of his breeches.
“Where were you going?”
Given that he’d said were and not are, she suspected he knew damn well where she was headed – for he had no intention of allowing it.
“Swimming,” she lied, her voice thin.
He tugged at the strap of the pack where it sat on her shoulder, and the weight alone proved her words to be a lie. Worse still was that he was too determined in his cause to even be angry with her.
“Elizabeth broke off the engagements. She declared herself for Turner for all to see, it’s over,” he said, his hands hovering about her shoulders as though he was scared she’d shrug him off, before they finally – painstakingly gently – took her hands in his instead, squeezing them. “We- I…I am free to…”
Theo’s eyes fluttered shut, a vice squeezing tightly in her chest in tandem with his hands until she was sure something inside her was going to break. She couldn’t stay. She couldn’t. Before long, Beckett would be here – and he’d want to see her hanged the same way he threatened Elizabeth and Will with the very same. And if James was still here…
“Do you hear what I’m saying?” he asked, when he didn’t receive any of the smiling or singing or dancing that he’d evidently expected.
Letting her hands slip from his, he lifted one to her shoulder and the other came up, faltering and then picking up her hair where she’d bound it into a thick plait. It was obvious he wanted to touch her – to hold her, to do something, but while she would only stand in silence he feared doing so. Theo blinked, and a few tears slipped down her face. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. She was supposed to be gone before he realised she was even leaving. Selfish of her, maybe, but it was supposed to spare the both of them from…from this.
He was wiping away her tears before they even had a chance to reach her jaw, and when he saw she had no desire to push him away, he kept his hand there, cradling the side of her face.
“Theodora,” he murmured “Marry me. Please. Marry me, and I will see to it that all ahead of us far outshines the troubles behind us.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“I can,” he said firmly. “I am. And not- not out of some self-flagellating desire to pay reparations, but because I want to give you that. Because I will give you that.”
“James…”
“Marry me, Theodora.”
“I want to.”
She regretted the words as soon as she said them – worried that he would take them as a yes and begin celebrating. But evidently he saw that what he was clearly viewing as the time for convincing was not over.
“You can,” he urged. “Say yes. We can be married before the year is through – before the month is through, propriety be damned. We can go to the chapel now and harangue the priest until he agrees to marry us now just to be rid of us.”
How long had she spent pining for a gesture like this from him? For him to throw caution, propriety, the ‘done thing’ to the wind and do something…something unrestrained. Now here he was, doing just that, and she knew full well what it took for him to do so, and she couldn’t accept. Because Beckett. Because Beckett would soon be here with his men, and his warrants, and his nooses, and she couldn’t be sure that they wouldn’t hang if either of them were still here. Because none of this was even close to over, and before it was done she had to make sure that the man before her, the man she loved, didn’t die.
She tilted her chin upwards, half-considering kissing him – and whether he’d allow it – before he was closing the gap for her, kissing her like it could persuade her to stay where words would not. It was tempting. He pulled her against him like it was impossible for them to get close enough for his liking, like they could merge into one and the proximity still wouldn’t be enough. The way she was dressed only amplified it, too, with no corsets or skirts or stupid amounts of layers to stop her feeling him – really feeling him, and not just some vague sense of pressure over a corset – where they were crushed together.
They finally parted, but they didn’t really part. They stayed just as close as they had been, their noses brushing as she fought the urge to kiss him again. There was no time.
“I can’t stay here, James.”
“You cannot go with Sparrow! If…if the idea of your remaining in my home is too distasteful for you, if you have no wish to accept, I will see to it that you are given other accomodati-”
“It’s not,” she interrupted. “It’s not – at all. If I could, I’d stay here with you forever. Forever, James. But I can’t.”
“Why not? We both want it, we can both finally have it, what could possibly be stopping us?” he entreated.
It was then that it hit her. She couldn’t stay, but she didn’t need to lie, either. She could break his heart and pretend she didn’t love him, that she didn’t want him, but that would never be enough to have him letting her go and run off to live among the pirates. She could pretend she hated him, and he’d still never allow that. Only one thing could convince him, and it was the one thing that had her leaving in the first place. The truth.
“This isn’t over!” she said, eyes boring into his so he might see how serious she was being. “None of it! Any of it! It’s not even halfway done. Do you think London will ignore what happened here today? No. Men will come, terrible men, and if I am here when they do, there’s every chance that I’ll be hanged.”
Telling him was the only way he might ever possibly let her leave. His eyes flickered between hers in disbelief – but there was enough doubt there for her to work with. Maybe he saw how serious she was being, maybe he didn’t, but she knew he saw her fear, and her desperation. Her desperation to leave, her desperation to stay, it didn’t matter, it was all there on her face. It was almost a strange relief to be able to show it.
“What? Of course you won’t be, I wouldn’t-”
“You wouldn’t able to do a thing about it,” she interrupted. “Not with this man. He’s…he’s terrible. He makes Barbossa look like a grumpy old uncle. He makes Davy Jones look like a kitten.”
“Davy Jo-”
“Will and Elizabeth, they can negotiate with him. They will. They have bargaining chips, they know how to politic, they know how things work here. They have standing. Me? He’ll torture what I know out of me, and then discard me. Christ, he might hang me just to prove a point the day he arrives. I know he can, I know he happily would, and while I might have a lot of confidence in my abilities, I know where they’re limited, and they’re limited with people like this man. I need to leave, James.”
And so did he. He’d never turn to Tortuga if it would mean bringing her, his fiancée, with him. And if they were both still here when Beckett arrived, everything would go to real shit. They wouldn’t stand a chance. His hands still clung to her, and hers were no better, the fingertips of one hand remaining where they’d inched beneath his wig at the nape of his neck while they’d kissed, the other gripping his shoulder.
“We can hide you. The Governor can-”
God, she loved him. She’d expected a diatribe on how she was mad, or how she couldn’t trust these ‘visions’ of hers, but instead he leapt into problem solving.
“The Governor can do nothing. Not against him. It has to be this way,” she shook her head. “There isn’t time to explain why, but it does. We will meet again, and afterwards we can…I…if you still want…I left something for you. In your study. And I mean it. Every word. But I need to go.”
“I shall have to give chase. You know I must – I’d have no choice. I wouldn’t want a choice, if it was between that and watching you disappear with Sparrow.”
“I know,” she said. “You should. Give chase. Exactly as you would have done before this.”
Of all the things she’d done since arriving here, those words felt the most like a betrayal.
“In such a case, I was hoping to do so as your fiancé. It would certainly hasten my journey home again.”
She choked on a sob. “I want to, James. I wish I could. You have to know that.”
“And yet it changes nothing,” there was a faint note of accusation in his voice.
“If you still want to, when we next meet, I’ll accept.”
“I shall – how couldn’t I? After all the impediments we’ve faced?”
“I’m not holding you to that. I won’t hold you to it. My mind won’t change, but if yours does, I won’t hold you to anything you’ve said today.”
He kissed her again, just as intensely as before, but this time it felt like a goodbye. When he pulled away, he was speaking before her eyes had even opened.
“The secluded beach. Sparrow will have to sail by it as he takes his leave. Go that way, and you shall intercept him.”
Theo stared at him.
“Tell me we will meet again. Your word, Theodora – give me your word. Before I change my mind.”
His grip tightened on her as though to emphasise his point.
“I swear.”
“When?”
“I don’t know.”
“Years?”
“One at most, I think. Maybe months.”
“And leaving – life with the pirates will be safer than your remaining here?”
“A thousand times over.”
It would be a different kind of dangerous, but one she was more familiar with. A rough, common criminal sort of dangerous. So long as she could get by in a scrap, which she’d proven she could, she’d be fine. The sort of danger Beckett was bringing was much more foreign to her, and one she couldn’t navigate.
He kissed her again, that iron grip remaining on her hips – and if she wasn’t so preoccupied with kissing him back, she’d be wondering if his tactic was to kiss her stupid until she could no longer leave. If his life hadn’t been on the line, it might’ve worked.
“Your study,” she breathed when they parted. “I mean it.”
Such was their proximity that she felt the deep, steeling breath that he took in. And then he nodded and pushed her away. The sudden lack of his hold on her only drove home the sudden feeling of loss that hit her, and she knew she’d miss him badly before this was through. And there was every chance that he’d hate her when they next met.
“Go.”
“Thank you,” her voice wavered.
“Go,” he repeated firmly.
That time, she obeyed.
*******
James did not watch Theodora as she fled off into the wild of Port Royal, no doubt making for the secluded beach as he’d instructed. He even tried not to hope that she had missed her window of time – that she would be back within the hour, and they would be forced to construct some other plan. One that involved her remaining here. With him.
If he watched, he might end up following the voice within him that screamed for him to give chase. For him to put her in shackles and lock her in the house until reason prevailed for the both of them – until she no longer wished to flee for a life of piracy, and he was no longer daft enough to allow her to do so under the word of prophecy. As if that would end well.
Instead, he turned and shut the door firmly behind him. And then he made for his study, his fists clenched so tightly that he kept expecting his knuckles to crack. Having expected some long and infuriating letter filled with apologies and explanations that he’d just heard in person, he paused when instead he saw a book sitting neatly atop his desk, a gap in the pages where something had been wedged within.
He approached more slowly than he expected, reluctant to look at what she’d left because it would make this real…and might have him running after her after all. Hamlet. A strange choice. Opening the book, something in his chest clenched when her necklace – the silver one that had sat at her breast the entire time he’d known her, with the neat heart-shaped pendant – slid easily down the pages and clattered to the desk below. A desire not to lose the page was the only thing that stopped him grabbing it immediately. She’d chosen this one for a reason, and he needed to see what words were apparently better than whatever ones she refused to write herself.
Doubt thou the stars are fire;
Doubt that the sun doth move;
Doubt truth to be a liar;
But never doubt I love.
Four times. He read it four times, each rendition sending his heart racing more than the last. Give chase, she’d said. And how could he not, after this?
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operationfortune · 1 year
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Okay I know this post will gain absolutely zero traction but the more I think about it the more I want to cry about it??
slight spoilers for one of the character arcs in Operation Fortune: Ruse de Guerre ahead,,,
So I saw Operation Fortune: Ruse de Guerre in the cinema today. I was alone, it was reasonably full, the film technically only opened two days ago, and it's wider release isn't for another week, but I had time to kill and it was the only thing that piqued my interest. It sits in an interesting spot tonally, comparative, I'd say, to Netflix Exclusive Michael Bay movie 6 Underground, though to use a more recent marker I'd drop it somewhere near Bullet Train (though it's definitely much closer to 6 Underground). All this context to say that I went into this Jason Statham-lead espionage action movie with zero expectations and almost completely blind.
So please believe me when I say I was truly blindsided with joy to have canonical, casual queer representation in this Jason Statham-lead espionage action movie.
Maybe it's that I don't watch a lot of media now, but it's something I noticed while watching Glass Onion too, both with Benoit and Hugh Grant (ha, put a pin in that) and especially with the character of Peg, and it makes me a bit teary and excited when I think about it. There's something to be said for how far we've come, to the point that Casual Queer Rep is even possible. There's something about watching Peg get all flustered talking to Helen and knowing that it's because she has a crush, without it having to be flagged, spelled out, or otherwise othered by the film or its writing.
It's normalised.
Which I know shouldn't be a big deal, but right now, to me, it is. I didn't realise I could feel this way; to see a full character who just so happens to be gay, where the plot doesn't revolve around her being gay, but that part of her identity is still made clear?? I love Peg so much holy shit.
But Glass Onion is the second in a series that has established itself as a forerunner for casual diversity. Let me tell you about how Operation Fortune made me want to YELL in theatres.
It's the 8th of January, and it might be a bit early to call it, but Danny Francesco might be my favourite character of the year.
Is he perfect? God no, he's objectively not a great person; he's sleeping with his sister-in-law, he's a Hollywood diva, he's demanding, and he (spoilers, seriously) ends up engaged to a war criminal. Who happens to be the main antagonist. Who happens to be Hugh Grant. Danny is the light of my life, however, and I love him with my whole heart.
So in the beginning we're told that Danny turned down $10m because he didn't want to jump out of Greg (Hugh Grant)'s cake and sing Happy Birthday; whatever, I thought, Greg is a rich, eccentric with an obsession with celebrities, and Danny is the biggest star right now, I shouldn't read anything into it because Sometimes Rich People Just Do Things For Status Reasons. We're also told, and subsequently shown, Greg tries to take celebrity's partners/girlfriends. Cue Sarah (Aubrey Plaza) in a bright red dress that I will dream about for the next month.
Also, in the scene where Danny, Sarah, and Orson (Jason Statham) are joining the fancy party, there's some distinctly fruity vibes between the three of them, but I'm not here to push my Orson/Sarah/Danny polycule agenda, just know that I have one.
So obviously Greg is excited to see Danny, but later makes a Very Distinct Pass at Sarah, inviting both her and Danny to stay with him for the weekend, with an implied Wink Wink Nudge Nudge.
While they end up taking him up on that offer, Danny, who started the film having refused Greg's Rich Weirdo Request, and now having to spend time with him for the job, finds that he actually genuinely likes Greg, who appears to genuinely like him back, doting on him, even giving him gifts.
When Danny says to Sarah "(I'm paraphrasing, about Greg) he's really into you! If you don't take him up on his offer then I might!" my eyeballs were Out Of My Head. Like sure it sounds like a joke that would be written in to simply highlight Danny's materialism, a whole 'gay for pay' joke, something about his vanity, or even just an offhand joke that I might hear one of my straight friends who were super comfortable and confident in their sexuality say about their best friends, I was So primed for this to be something that the audience could laugh off or dismiss in hindsight. Like in my mind that solidified my headcanon of Danny as bi, but I was so used to queerbaiting and years of being told I was reading into things.
So as the plot continues, Danny's fondness for Greg goes on, turns into something incredibly genuine, and looking back, he clearly has a hero-worship crush on Greg by the end of the film.
The last shot we see of Danny and Greg is the pair of them getting into an elevator after Greg pulls a stone cold power move on the films secondary antagonists, which he had Danny assist with for flare after Danny asked specifically to stay with him for that event. In the elevator, Danny tells Greg that that was "the coolest thing he's ever seen someone do" and that's the last we physically see of them.
HOWEVER!! THE ICING!! THE CHERRY!!
At the very end of the film, one of the protagonists mentions how he's gone into the film industry, and the response he gets is;
"You better not be talking about Danny Francesco and his fiancee Greg Simmonds!"
an accurate depiction of me as the credits began to roll;
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WE WIN THESE!!
BOTH DANNY AND GREG ARE CANONICALLY BI/PAN IN THIS JASON STATHAM-LEAD ESPIONAGE ACTION MOVIE IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORD 2023!! THEY BOTH LIVE UNTIL THE END!! THEY'RE ENGAGED!! THEY'RE BOTH ABSOLUTE DISASTERS!! THEY'RE BOTH FULL, ROUNDED CHARACTERS WHO HAPPEN TO BE QUEER!!
I get choked up thinking about it now, considering how quietly overwhelmed I felt in the theatre realising that Danny and Greg's comments and moments throughout the film weren't some elaborate joke, the dialogue that reminds me of my friends, the moments that felt true to my life as a queer person, they werent the setup for any kind of homophobic mixup, miscommunication, or microaggression; no, I finally, actually felt like I saw a part of myself, of my community represented in media.
Everyone in that movie is terrible in their own way, but Danny and Greg just happened to be terrible people who are also queer. Are they perfect representation? No! Thank fuck! I think we deserve more dumbass, disaster, unethical queers in media.
Even if I don't necessarily recommend this movie (it's pretty okay if you're a fan of the genre I suppose), I subjectively love it and especially it's characters, with my whole entire heart.
Danny Francesco is canonically a dumbass, bi disaster who fell for his sugar daddy, war criminal Hugh Grant. Good for him. It's what he deserves. 🥰🥰🥰
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whumpsday · 2 years
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Kane & Jim #29: Slice
~ Whumpmas in July Day 21: Bleeding ~
Masterlist
content: vampire whumper, captivity, knife/cutting
a short one! takes place in the later years of jim’s captivity, well after Broken.
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Another night in Kane’s house. Wake up, shower, breakfast, be fed on, and do whatever all night in this room until he fell asleep. Do it all again the next night.
Forever.
Jim opened the fridge to get the ingredients for his dinner. He’d have to rotate the drawings tacked to it, his newer ones were much better and there wasn’t any more room. He had a passing thought of asking Kane for a how-to guide, but decided against it. Learning how to draw through trial and error was a way to pass time, and he didn’t want to make the process any faster. It wasn’t like anyone else would ever see them.
He grabbed some stuff for a sauté, nothing fancy tonight, and started chopping vegetables. This was okay. Peaceful, even. He liked cooking, had even before it was one of the only good things in his life. A lot of people would find joy in this kind of life, maybe. Introverts. Jim was the furthest thing from an introvert, but he was making the best of it. He’d build a little life for himself yet.
It was so stupid. A noise. Not even a particularly scary one, just the sound of Kane probably dropping something.
Whatever it was, it made him startle. He was always jumpy, these days. It would have been fine if he wasn’t holding the knife.
As his arms curled together on instinct, Jim gasped as the blade he clutched in his right hand sliced through his opposite wrist.
Blood. There was so much blood. The pain of it was nothing compared to the overwhelming fear, the sight of his blood splashing onto the floor. Kane had already fed from him tonight, he couldn’t afford to lose more!
Oh god, I’m going to die. Jim burst into tears, his breaths coming quick and shallow.
Kane. A vampire could close the wound.
“Kane!” he shouted, his voice desperate and fearful. He ran to the locked door, dripping blood behind him, and pounded against it with his right fist. “Kane, help! Please!”
The door opened, Jim flinching back at the appearance of his tormenter, despite calling him here.
He stuck out his bleeding arm, shoulders quaking as he cried. “Help, it’s, it’s-”
“Fuck, what did you manage to do?” Kane snapped.
Jim stumbled, beginning to feel dizzy, but Kane caught him before he could fall. He tensed, terrified of being held in his owner’s arms.
“Let me see that.” Kane grabbed Jim’s arm and held it up to his mouth, running his tongue along the slash.
Jim relaxed as the wound closed. The pain was still there, he wasn’t healed. But at least the bleeding had stopped, a long scab in its place. He wasn’t going to die.
“There. You’re fine.” Kane announced, letting go of him. Jim took a couple of cautious steps back. Kane pointed at the blood painting the floor. “Clean that up. Don’t do that again, wasting perfectly good blood. That’s half tomorrow’s meal!"
Jim’s heart spiked at the irritation in his voice.
He’d been doing so well. Kane hadn’t hurt him in... it must have been months, at this point. He’d been keeping to himself, keeping quiet. Often, the only time he saw Kane was for feeding, and he was behaving. If he was stuck with this life, he might as well stop fighting it.
“It was an accident. Didn’t, didn’t mean to.” Jim whispered, trembling with fear and blood-loss. Kane was angry with him. He was going to be hurt more. Jim sobbed, wrapping his arms around himself, cringing away from his owner. He debated tacking a “sir” onto the end, but he still had a sliver of self-respect. He would only resort to that once Kane made a move to hit him.
Kane sighed. “Just don’t do it again. Don’t be a crybaby, you’re fine. Look, I fixed it.” He gestured to Jim’s arm. “Relax.”
He thinks I’m still upset about my arm. He doesn’t realize I’m afraid of him. The realization was jarring. To him, Kane was a terrifying monster. But Kane wouldn’t see himself that way.
Jim nodded tearfully, quieting himself again.
“Anything else?” Kane asked, eyebrow raised.
He was so lonely. Part of him wanted to follow Kane back out into the living room, hang out with him while he wasn’t being mean, like he used to. Watch a movie, play cards, listen to Kane rant about vampire drama. Just be with another person.
But he didn’t. He was tired. He was scared.
Jim shook his head.
“Alright, then.” Kane left, locking the door behind him.
Jim looked around. He had to clean the blood off the floor and counter, and he’d barely gotten past the prep stage of dinner. His vegetables were covered in blood now, too. May be appetizing to Kane, but not to him.
He still woozy from the blood-loss. He just wanted to lie down. But there was no one else to clean up after him, no one else to make him a meal. He decided that he’d make himself something low-effort like a sandwich after he finished, sluggishly heading to the closet to grab a mop.
-
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manysmallhands · 2 months
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The Brits: Rated!
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This weekend I watched The Brit Awards for the first time in an absolute age. One thing it reminded me of is why I don’t usually watch The Brit Awards: the staging was cringe, the presenters forgettable and the winners (Jungle! Bring Me The Horizon!) often completely baffling. RAYE’s coronation as queen of UK pop was at least a satisfying moment of well deserved revenge, but also a colossal round of arse covering and buck passing from an industry that was more than happy to screw her over and has in no way faced any real reckoning over it. As such, the stellar cast who were lined up to perform were basically the only good reason for me to stick around. I rated them as follows:
Dua Lipa - Training Season 
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Absolutely banging opener, lots of fancy moves - including Dua being suspended in midair by a bunch of guys with no visible means of support themselves! - and an excellent (if slightly strained) vocal, a notable improvement on her Grammys performance from last month. I like Training Season anyway but this felt like a proper event. 9
Calvin Harris and Ellie Goulding - Miracle
I’ve hitherto found Miracle a bit of a snooze but I finally started to warm to it last night and the bit at the end where it all kicked off was probably the best climax of the evening. While the choreography created an engaging sense of spectacle, Ellie was admirably low effort amongst it all and Calvin might as well have sneaked off for a fag, it was quite funny watching him stood at the back doing nothing. 8
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Tate McRae - Greedy
I so wanted this to be great cos I can't stop listening to her but sadly that really wasn’t the case. There seemed to be technical issues at times but often Tate looked swallowed up by the size of the staging, just singing the odd line here and there while doing an admittedly top-line dancing routine. Not a patch on her recent NHL show. 6 
Jungle - Back On 74
Despite it being extremely lightweight I’m rather fond of Back on 74, but quite what Jungle are doing here (and winning best band!) is something of a mystery to me. Still, the Sault we’ve got at home put on a pleasant enough show without really straining themselves performance-wise, especially considering its acrobatic video. 7
RAYE - Medley: Ice Cream Man/Prada/Escapism.
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I’ll admit that RAYE’s more "authentic" genre reworkings can leave me a bit nonplussed but I thought this performance was fantastic. Ice Cream Man was predictably devastating, Prada held up surprisingly well under its choral makeover and Escapism seems to take whatever she throws at it without so much as flinching. Not much to speak of visuals-wise but she really didn’t need them. 9
Chase and Status/Becky Hill - Disconnect
Chase and Status honoured their best producer award by doing their least good song of 2023. Becky Hill dutifully belted it out but there wasn’t much to draw the eye and the teasers from Baddadan had a distinct ‘look at what you could have won’ quality. 6
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Rema - Calm Down 
In the year or more since I first heard it, I’ve gone from bored to lukewarm to kinda liking Rema’s megahit and the live setting here has finally pushed me over the top:  Calm Down is really quite good. It was helped along by a winning dance routine that played into its exotic rhythms but Rema's performance is the thing that really carried it, all understated charisma, flashing smiles and some truly iconic headgear. 8
Kylie - Hits Medley
There was a sense in which I wanted this to be amazing but in the end it was merely an alright performance, lifted by the fact that the UK loves Kylie and it was always going to feel like a bit of a triumph. The vocals were nothing to write home about, the track selection could have been better too, but by the time we got around to All The Lovers I was pretty much sold anyway. Ultimately, there are some people who are above meaningful criticism and Kylie will always be one of them. I mean, who gives a shit whether I liked it or not. 7
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