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muntitled · 8 months

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𝙄𝙍𝙍𝙀𝙋𝙇𝘼𝘾𝙀𝘼𝘽𝙇𝙀

Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader

Summary: Toji is intent on ruining every other man for you

Warnings: Language, Toxic Relationship, fwb, Age Gap, Minor Gaslighting, Jealousy, Slight Angst, Coercion, Manipulation, Manhandling, Possessiveness, PDA, Threats, Smut (+18) Minors DNI, DUB/CON, Grinding, Forced Orgasm, Rough Sex, Toji Filming You, Video Sex?, Humiliation Kink, Exhibition Kink, Massive Degradation Kink, Neediness, Mutual Masturbation, Humping, Spitting, Breeding Kink, Daddy Kink, DDLG, Massive Praise Kink, Threats, Slight CNC, Extreme Humiliation, Forced Breeding

A/N: Please proceed with caution, I beg

Perhaps your first mistake is assuming you could open his message, glance over it with hooded, glossy eyes, and swipe out, with the blatant intention of ignoring him.

Toji is rarely someone who fancies wasting time. He types like the old man he is, with messages devoid of emoji's or textual abbreviations.

He had simply and succinctly written:

I miss your face.

His message is unambiguous with the expectation that you are now supposed to drop every commitment you might harbour on this thunderous Thursday night to accommodate him and his nighttime hard-on that probably hit him in a slump of boredom.

It irritated you to imagine how secondary you always seem to be in his mind's eye. It pissed you off to think that his words when he fucked you, his blatant degrdation, may hold a sliver of truth. Perhaps you really were just a sex toy he only makes use of when he wishes for a break from the rest of the world and its obligations. That piercing thought that he used you accommodate all his kinks, while he continuously failed to claim you amongst his associates... it broke you. It left you feeling cheap and ragged and worthless and-

another message peaks over your home screen:

I know you're seeing this. Tell him to fuck off.

"Everything okay?" Your head snaps up from your phone, immediately meeting the eyes of the man you had just kissed under the awning of your Townhouse patio. His warm eyes which had stayed warm throughout the duration of your date are now hooded in concern.

"Everything's perfectly fine," You attempt to reassure your coworker who had just taken you on a fantastic date. There is an inflection in your voice which you quickly attempt to clear, "Just a message from one of my students-"

You're interrupted by another incoming notification which you instinctively check.

I miss your cunt. Need to see you touch yourself.

Swiping out of that particular message had been significantly more difficult, and it took all your willpower to ignore the slew of notifications.

"My kids tend to send messages outside office hours too," your date soldiers on, bending his tall frame hoping to draw your attention once again. "It's like they don't understand the concept of school time and downtime. Teachers have lives too,"

Your eyes narrow infinitesimally at the strain in his voice when he says, "I like seeing you in academic work mode, though. It's hot." You immediately notice his words as a veneer to mask the irritation at having your date interrupted by your notifications. All that hangs between you two now is the rites of passage one is expected to complete at the end of every date.

'Ask me up' his eyes practically pleaded, as you noticed him send tiny glances at your front door, 'Ask me up and let's get this over with',

And perhaps, maybe you would have invited him up. Lord knows your own arousal had been building with the steady stream of Toji's messages, one more quick glance revealed the final message:

Do you honestly imagine yourself calling that puny little thing, Daddy?

A shuddering breath leaves your throat as a million questions bombard a million other statements racing through your mind. Questions of how the fuck Toji knew you were on a date were overshadowed by the realization that you are going to sleep with this stranger tonight. You are going to find a new anchor and a brand new distraction.

"Would you like to stay for a drink-" You asked, or would have asked, had it not been for the sheer shock at having your own door open behind you. You spin around, utterly speechless as you and your date both watch Toji answer your door.

"She doesn't drink," He says, leaning his bare, muscled shoulder against your doorframe, the rest of him is clad in his sweatpants, the drawstring left lazily to hang, "So finding any beverage alcoholic enough for her to negate the fact that you're not going to make her cum, will be quite the feat." Your coworker bristles at Toji's remark, but you're corralled into silence. It is as if your brain can not comprehend what your eyes are seeing in front of you. Your voice is dwindling as you attempt to ask,

"Where did you… How the hell did you get my keys?" But Toji disregards you as easily as he has been doing for the duration of your relationship. Arousal be damned, all you allow yourself to feel in this very moment is red, white, and hot, anger.

It is so easy for him to look past you, so easy for him to pretend you're not there when his cock isn't forcing you to take his cum. The anger pulsates through you, straining your tear ducts. If it weren't for his sudden, inexplicable movements you probably would have cursed him out with tears streaking your face.

With his eyes still on your date, Toji pulls your limp body against him. He dips his head to splay a calloused kiss at the side of your head before letting his hands drift over the curvy outlines of your body. He rubs you soothingly, in a way he knows would get you into a compliant, likely sated state as he pushes your head onto his bare chest.

"You're still standing here?" His head tilts as he stares down your date; a scarred lip curling at the end. "Would you like to watch?" By this point, you're so deep into detangling your own conflicting emotions that you're not even sure who Toji is speaking to. What you are aware of is his bulge rubbing against you from behind. His grip on your hips are concrete as he looks at the now utterly angered man, "I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to," Toji's lips graze your ear, "She does enjoy putting on a show,"

You're utterly horrified that his words and raucous display have your colleague lumbering away from your doorstep and racing to his car, never looking back.

"That is an utter shame. I think he would've liked to see how needy you get when you wanna cum-" But you've finally gained enough sensibility to push him away from you. Your heart is beating loud in your ear as you push past him and into your living room.

"Where is it,"

"My dick? It's in my pants and it wants your attention-"

"Your shirt!" Your voice thunders up into the rafters of your living room's ceiling, likely in vicious combat with the thunder groaning outside. "You're going to get your shirt and you're going to leave my house and you will then proceed to leave my fucking life!" You're pushing over cushions and decorative pillows as you search frantically for Toji's shirt, "Give me my fucking house keys and leave me the fuck alone, Toji, I'm serious!"

In the tempest of your movements, frizzy hair wild from your outburst and your manic movements, you are utterly seething to find him directly behind you. His head, dipping into the nape of your neck, deposits a row of kisses as he pushes himself up against you.

"I really need to fuck you." He says, completely reducing your earlier words into nothingness, "I need to hear you make those needy little whimpers of yours and I need you to call me Daddy, okay? I need you to tell Daddy you want him to make you a Mommy," He is utterly delirious as he fists your breasts over your buttoned shirt and thrust his hips into your backside. He is deluded by his own fantasies, guided by his own arousal with little to no thought for your own feelings. You hated that his desires flowed parallel to yours. You hated that you wanted exactly what he wanted. You hated that your panties were already steadily getting soaked at just the thought of him needing you so much he started humping lazily into your ass. "Daddy needs you to take care of him, hm? Can you do that, pretty girl?"

Your voice is barely above a whisper when you speak, afraid that it might bleed into a horrendous moan, "When have you ever taken care of me, Toji? You fucking humiliated me-" He spins you around until your chest is facing him. You fight to evade the sight of his cock straining against his grey sweatpants as you stare blankly up at him.

"You like it," Toji says, bringing a hand up to cup the side of your cheek, "And I like that you like it." And perhaps, maybe a sick, emotionally damaged part of you did enjoy it when he made you suffer a little. His words bring revelation, as you think back to seconds ago, how him touching you - disrespecting you in front of your coworker brought on a heightened state of arousal.

"Make yourself cum." He commands as he hurriedly undoes the buttons of your blouse. You quickly notice that his patience has finally cracked, and a vexed scowl now dances on Toji's face as he discards your blouse on the floor, "No more questions. Make yourself fucking cum-" He growls, as he forces you down onto your couch with a hand gripping your scalp and another, pulling a wayward pillow in front of you.

"Make yourself cum because when I touch you, your pleasure is going to be the least of my fucking concerns."

You eye the pillow with slight trepidation while Toji eyes you from above. His hand is still firmly placed on top of your head, lightly craning it backwards to see every emotion running through your face.

"Keep the skirt on," He orders, and watches with hungry eyes as you slowly take off your underwear and mount the cushion in front of you.

"Give me your phone," he is already grabbing at your device, fumbling for the camera.

"Toji, please-"

"It's Toji, now!?" He asks, laughing breathlessly as he presses record and pushes the camera into your face, "Who the fuck is Toji to you?"

Your eyes snap shut, hoping to get away from the invading insectile lense or fresh coat of arousal betweenyour thighs. Your mind is utterly fried by the stimulation you're getting from every output. Your hips have started languidly moving against the pillow, feeling pathetically satiated by the friction against your soaked little clit,

"Look at you- Fuck!" Toji removes his hand on your head to lightly paw at the bulge so deliriously close to your face, "Look at what a fucking slut you are! Do your little work friends know how stupid you get when you're on the verge of cumming-"

"Toji-"

"I said who the fuck is Toji to you!?" The sheer and utter cruelty in his tone has you humping the pillow faster, while you clumsily raise a hand to paw at your breasts. Unable to keep his composure any longer, Toji's hand descends into his sweatpants as he begins to stroke his aching dick in unison with your hips. You watch with hooded, fucked out eyes. Your pillowy lips pull in between your teeth as a pornographic moan bubbles from within your chest.

You decide to give in. "P-Please Daddy, Please fuck me- I fucking need you to cum inside me- p-please-" You're unable to stop, feeling your wetness spread along the pillow, as you watch him stroke intently, "Fuck me- I need you to fuck me, fuck me please, Daddy-" You're utterly breathless, repeating your words like a wanton, desperate whore, "Please… Daddy," you continue to whisper, "Daddy,"

"Fuck-you look so fucking sexy, baby," He doesn't know whether to look at the video of your hips moving greedily against the pillow, or to watch the real thing: your hips making a web of sticky trails of arousal on the couch.

"Apologise to Daddy, like a good girl," He really wants to fuck you but his own pride, the curse of his averous stands in his way, "Tell Daddy you're sorry for being a foolish little whore. Tell him you'll never ignore a message from him ever again-" your shoulders flinch at the sound of your phone being discarded on the floor but still, your hips are unrelenting as you say, "I'm sorry, Daddy, I'm so sorry." Drool drips from the side of your mouth, falling along your exposed breasts, which Toji squeezes recklessly. "Never! I'll never ignore another message from you ever, ever, ever," you're operating on autopilot, as you watch him release his cock from inside his sweatpants, his fingers prod and twist at your nipple.

"I miss your mouth," He utters drunkenly as he bends down, "Kiss me," And you obey as you rise to meet his lips. The soft roughness of Toji's lips only has your hips humping desperately against the pillow once more, his tongue forcing its way inside until you're both kissing with lewdity and ferocity. "Fucking slut-" he says, pulling back to push you backwards,

"My horny humping girl is so ready for Daddy to fuck her isn't she?" You're completely flooded with anticipation, it flows through your arteries, alerting every part of your brain. You feel as though you're about to taste euphoria as Toji roughly pulls your hips to the edge of the couch, lifting it to meet his cock which he hurriedly slams into you.

He fucks you, hard and rough and as needy as you feel- hovering above you so every stroke has his pelvis pushing against your clit as you fucks you into your own couch.

"You thought you could just fucking get away from me, hm?" There's a heavy condescending tone in his voice, one that has you arching your back with your lips pulled between your teeth. You're striving to get away from his harsh thrusts because the pleasure is way too much . It's all bubbling inside you, threatening to spill out everywhere and anywhere.

"I fucking told you, didn't I!?" Droplets of water fall from his hair as he watches you so intensely. You think you might cum on the spot, "Daddy fucking told you that you can't ever say no to him- you can't ever tell him to stop- Stop fucking moving!" But your movements have him more turned on than you'd initially thought, allowing him to use the advantage of his brawn, to lock you down with his iron grip at your hips. You're trapped on the couch underneath him, as he continues to fuck you like you don't exist,

"If you keep moving like that- fuck! If you keeping fucking trying to get away Daddy will have no choice but to cum inside you," Your legs tingle with the nearness of your euphoria, it only expands as he brings his lips directly onto of yours as he mutters, "Daddy's going to cum inside you, okay? Maybe that's what you need to realise you can't talk to other men? Maybe getting you fucking pregant will make sure you'll stop being a fucking slut-"

His cock is shallow and relentless inside your soaked, gummy walls, it pushes against everything it can find and is utterly relentless on that one sensitive bundle of nerves that only he seems to be able to find.

"Are you going to cum!?" He asks, "Because I'm so fucking close baby- I want you to cum with Daddy, okay? Be a good girl for once in your fucking life-"

"FUCK-" You're a screaming, wet mess as you cum so violently, it disrupts the flow of your entire body, "Thats it… Gonna get you pregnant- oh fuck-" he exclaims, his white hot seed exploding inside of you, prolonging the overwhelming sensation of your own orgasm. It completely takes over your mind - feeling so completely full of him. Toji's hips lightly shudder as he attempts to milk as much of himself up inside of you, before pulling away. He is utterly mesmerised by the sticky, white cum oozing out of your puffy vagina. He watches, transfixed, as he brings his fingers up to slide as much of his cum inside you but it all comes sliding back.

"What are you," You're barely able to find your voice, "What are you doi-"

But he already has you upside down. His muscles flex he holds you carefully by your hips, with your head grazing the carpet. You recognize the movement as a relic of the old wives' tale. The second his cum is swimming inside you, you need to lay upside down to help it along.

No scientific evidence that this guarantees any sort of pregnancy, of course, but Toji strikes you as the superstitious type.

"Making sure the job's done." He says, "You think I was kidding about getting you pregnant?"

I can explain...

#toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji smut #toji x you #jjk toji #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x black reader

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solarpunkani · 1 month

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what are some things we can do to make the world better?

Gosh, this is a big question. It's also definitely something that's been on my mind for a long, long time. I mean, honestly, how could it not be?

I'm not gonna be able to provide any revolutionary, mind bending answers on this. I'm honestly something more akin to a coward, if anything--I'm not gonna be able to recommend going to protests or rebel action without being a huge hypocrite.

I guess what I did is pick a couple of topics to try my best to learn as much about as possible, so I can know what I can do to help, and then try to do as much of that stuff as possible. So in my case right now its gardening. I basically went 'oh? Butterflies and bees and pollinators are at risk due to habitat loss? Is there anything I can do about it?' Learned about what I could do about it (start a garden, grow certain plants, avoid certain practices like using pesticides and herbicides in said garden, etc.), and then did as much of that stuff as is reasonable for me. And then I also shared what I was doing with other people, and encouraged and helped them do it too if they're interested.

Is my rinky dink mismatched chaotic pollinator garden changing the world? Making the whole entire place better? Not necessarily. Maybe it's making the world a bit better for the pollinators that stop by though, and if I can convince more and more people to start pollinator gardens then it can help more pollinators. I bounced off from pollinator gardening to grow vegetables too, which I can then share with my community (donating to food banks/community fridges, or just offering some to the neighbors) which can definitely help as well.

You can use this process in other aspects too. Monarchs and milkweeds is what caught my eye and drew me to pollinator gardening, but maybe it just doesn't hit for you. Maybe you're more interested in fish, or ecosystems in rivers and streams. You can look into ways to help, and maybe then you'll get into cleaning riverbanks and such. Or maybe you're moreso interested in something like food scarcity and food deserts, and you can then launch into making community gardens or a system of community fridges and harrassing legislators calling your local representatives to back initiatives that will help. I think asking yourself 'what can I do about abcxyz', learning about it, and then doing what you can is definitely a good place to start. And maybe what you learn will lead you to going to things like protests and doing rebellious actions--in which case that's fantastic! The world needs a lot more people who are a lot braver than the woman behind this Tumblr curtain. Or maybe it won't--and that's okay too. We can do what we can together.

Will you change the entire world? Make the whole world better? Probably not, and I probably won't either. I don't think one person alone can change the world. But we can improve the worlds of a few creatures in a local area, or make the world better for people in our communities. And I think that's at least worth an effort.

If anyone else wants to chime in, by all means feel free! And if my advice sucks I'm sorry.

#out of queue #ani rambles #answered asks #anonymous #solarpunk

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tommysversion · 1 year

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hello!! i saw you were taking requests and i couldn’t find any set rule list, so please ignore this if it’s not something you’re comfortable with ❤️ but what maybe some smut where they’ve been in jackson for a bit and the girls there don’t get the hint that he’s taken and reader gets jealous and is the dominant one? also totally marks him so they know. (sorry i don’t usually request smut so im not really sure if i should add more or not but i really like your work so i wanted to try) anyway, thank you if you get to this and again, truly no issue if you don’t. i hope you have a fantastic day/evening 🥰❤️

Hi anon! Sorry this took so long, I had the big writers block for the last few days! I hope this is what you’re looking for!

You don’t get irritated easily. It’s one of the things Joel likes about you, actually. You tend to be the level headed one, the one people go to in a crisis because you’re damn near impossible to piss off. Damn near, but not quite. And lately, people have been pushing your damn buttons. Everyone has a weakness, and yours is Joel.

You know he’s handsome. Hell, you’re not the only one who knows it. If he wasn’t so caught up in… well, being Joel, he’d probably be able to have any of the women in Jackson that he wanted. Somehow, he wanted you. Long before you even arrived there, too. Your relationship is concrete. Infallible. Only, there are a few women who don’t seem to have gotten the hint.

They flirt with him, right in front of you sometimes. He doesn’t seem to notice, doesn’t seem to care, and whenever you bring it up? He’s dismissive of it.

“I don’t care who’s lookin’ at me, darlin’, I’ve only got eyes for you.”

Sweet words, yes. And it’s not that you don’t trust him. You do. With your life, with your heart and your soul.

It still gets to you. Especially when he gets so pissy whenever anyone so much as looks at you. Oh, sure, you like it, and you love the possessive way he fucks you whenever it happens… but it’s given you an idea. Everyone knows now not to flirt with you or touch you, because you’re always, without fail, covered in love bites or have Joel with you, his hand on the small of your back in a not so subtle possessive way.

It’s your turn. Time to flip the cards, as it were.

——

Sunlight streams in through the window; it’s snowed overnight again, of course, but it looks to be a beautiful day.

You’re awake first, for once; you’ve noticed that he sleeps better beside you. Oh, he still has his nightmares, and you’re certain he always will, but you’ve noticed a definite improvement.

Your idea still bounces around your mind, a way to keep those pesky women away from him for good. Maybe if they know, without any reason to doubt, that he’s yours… they’ll back off. If he was anyone else, you might be nervous. But he’s not anyone else, he’s Joel. Your Joel.

The thought gives you courage as you curl your body into his, press slow kisses up his chest. That’s new, too. Since settling in Jackson, you’re both far more at ease with sleeping in very little clothing, or, in this instance, naked.

Your fingertips trail along his arms as you kiss over his heart, keep kissing up to his throat, along his jaw.

“Hmm? Mornin’, darlin…” His voice is always so much more heavily accented first thing in the morning, sleepy and content. You like that, the change from being instantly alert to allowing himself a moment.

“Hi there.” You keep on kissing, along his jaw to his lips, kissing the corner of his mouth.

“Didn’t get enough last night, huh?” He doesn’t sound annoyed, not at all. For all he comments about being fifty six and not able to keep up with such a pretty young thing, he does a damn good job. Honestly, his stamina is fucking impressive. That, and you can feel him, hard against your stomach. Time to put your idea into practice.

“Never.” You agree, before you roll, catching him off guard enough that you can straddle him, keeping him flat on his back on the soft bed.

He raises an eyebrow, amused at your sudden movement. He’s used to you being the submissive one, begging him to be rougher, harder, being pinned beneath him or on all fours, occasionally against a wall or on the couch if you can’t make it to the bed. It happens. Even when you ride him, he has the control, and you both know it.

He’s not used to this, to you straddling him with a sense of purpose, a glint in your eyes as you lean down and kiss him again, a searing kiss to his mouth that’s all passion, all desperation, like he’s the purest drug left in the world and you’re addicted.

Without breaking the kiss, you grind down against him, letting his hands drift to your waist, guiding you. Slowly, you brush your bare folds along the length of him, enjoying the way he watches you, pupils blown wide.

You can’t let yourself be distracted, no matter how much you want to be.

“What’s gotten into you, huh?” His voice is hoarse, heavy with arousal as you kiss the corner of his mouth again, circling your hips, teasing the tip of his cock with your wetness.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You reply, kissing his throat, finding a nice spot to leave your mark. Before he can answer you again, your kiss turns to a bite, sucking a deep purple mark into his throat as his hands shift lower, settling on your ass.

You can feel his cock throbbing against you; it’s almost embarrassing how much you want him, how easy it would be to simply cave, beg him to roll you over and pin you to the bed. But this isn’t about you, not right now. This is about Joel, and about making sure those damn annoying women in town know that he’s yours. He’s yours.

“Gonna tease me all morning, baby?” His tone makes it clear he doesn’t mind, not in the slightest, even if the haze of sleep has been replaced with lust.

“Maybe.” You concede, leaving another mark on his collarbone. “I can see why you do this to me, now…”

It certainly looks nice, the contrast of the purple marks against his olive skin.

“Usually I fuck you, too.” Joel comments, and you laugh.

“Is that your way of begging?” You ask, admiring the string of marks on his throat. Not bad, honestly. Not bad at all.

“Sweetheart, if I was begging you, you’d know it.” He tries to sound stubborn, but you choose that moment to tease him again, brushing yourself against the tip of him once more. There’s a slight catch to his voice as he says it.

“Are you sure?”

He rolls his eyes. “Really, what’s gotten into you?”

You smirk, lean down and press a kiss to his lips.

“Maybe I just wanted to prove a point.” Your own resolve is failing slightly, just enough to cut your teasing short; maybe if you had slightly more control, you’d tease him for longer. But you know him, know his patience is limited, even for you.

“And what might that be?” His hands are still on your waist; you move your own hands to his arms, keeping his movement limited; he’s not taking control, not this time.

You don’t answer him for a moment, shift yourself, guide yourself to him, sink down onto him slowly.

“That you’re mine,” you say finally, as every inch of him fills you; it takes a fair bit of effort to sound so in control, considering. He’s not exactly small, not so big he hurts you either, just right, perfectly filling you, the tip of him stroking against your sweet spot.

“That so?” If Joel had his arms free, he’d be torn between crossing them behind his head, lazing back and just letting you have control, or seizing your waist and flipping you over, taking back control. He’s used to being the dominant one, but this? He could get used to this. There’s something appealing about the way you’re acting.

“Yes.” You don’t dignify him with a drawn out answer; there are much better ways to punctuate what you’re saying, like circling your hips slowly, letting him feel you tighten around him. There’s an advantage to this position; you can use his arms to brace yourself as you start to ride him, slow at first.

You can’t help the surge of confidence that comes with having him in this position. You know what sort of man he is, know exactly what he’s capable of. The fact that he’s willingly submitting to you, even if it’s just for curiosity sake… it definitely makes you feel good about yourself, encourages you to keep going.

“C’mon, sweetheart, this all you got?” There’s an amused glint in his eyes; he knows you’re holding back on him, knows there’s strength in you that you keep hidden away. He’s seen glimmers of it, like when you marked him, but honestly, he wants to see how far you’ll go before you break.

“Shut up, Joel.” You roll your eyes, lean down to kiss him. He meets you halfway; props himself up so you can change positions, so you’re more sitting in his lap than anything. You have to admit, you like the intimacy of it, the way his chest is pressed against yours. His arms encircle you, but he doesn’t try to take control of the situation, content with letting you ride him, setting the pace, trailing kisses along his chest.

Even like this, you still have the control, are still the one calling the shots. You wrap your arms around his neck to steady yourself, riding him faster, finally allowing little sounds of pleasure to fall from your lips when he moans.

“I dunno where this came from, sweetheart,” he mumbles into your ear, “but I kinda like it.”

You laugh, curl your hands into his hair, your laughter fading into moans and mewls as he starts to buck his hips up to meet you as you ride him, getting deeper, bringing you into a perfect rhythm.

You need something to do with your mouth to quiet you; you suck another mark into his throat to occupy yourself, satisfied when he groans.

“Fuck, darlin’, you’re getting good at that…” Joel’s hands caress your waist, up your back, as though he’s trying to memorise every inch of your skin. He could spend all day touching you, and it wouldn’t be enough.

“Learned from the best,” you reply, resting your head on his shoulder as you pick up your pace. He meets you each time, rocking his hips up to match your pace, for once keeping his filthy mouth to himself in place of a string of moans and growls.

“You’re mine.” You remind him as you kiss him once more, as close to your release as he is to his own.

“And you’re mine,” he confirms, hands settling on your waist, holding you in place as he bucks up into you, drawing your climax out of you, satisfied by the loud gasps and moans that fall from your lips. He doesn’t get long to be smug, though; your tightening around him is enough to bring him to his own release; you bear down on him, keeping him inside you, taking every drop that he has to give you.

He shakes his head, half amused, as soon as he can catch his breath.

“If anything comes of that… that’s on you.” He warns you. Not that he’d ever abandon you. Never.

“Oops.” You wriggle on him, getting him deeper, proving your point.

He drops a light kiss to your lips.

“You should show this side more often,” Joel says, and then smirks, “you’re cute when you’re jealous.”

You scoff, admire the string of bites and marks along his chest, collarbones, and throat.

“Somehow, I think they’ll get the message.”

#my writing #answered #Joel Miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #the last of us #pedro pascal

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callmewrinkles3 · 1 year

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All Too Well - DR3 x Fem!OC

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

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

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,

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.

#call it what you want fic #ciwyw writing #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo oneshot #f1 imagine #f1 oneshot #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 oneshot #formula one fanfic #formula one imagine #daniel ricciardo x ofc #daniel ricciardo x reader

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ghoulette-knell · 3 months

Text

A Little Bit Tipsy:

Aether x Fem!Reader

You and Aether have some unspoken tension due to being so close to him throughout the Prequelle tour. A little bit of alcohol proves to loosen your tongue.

🔞MDNI🔞

TW: Drunk/High Sex; Friends to Lovers; Soft!Dom Aether; Hair-Pulling; Marking; Animalistic Sex (honestly from all of the sexual tension); Oral (male receiving); Dirty Talk; Fingering (female receiving); No Protection; Biting.

Word Count: 5,566

You and Aether, your best friend, were a little bit tipsy. Yeah, a little bit more than tispy...

The tour that Ghost had spent months travelling around the globe had just concluded for the week, so the two of you decided to drink and celebrate the fantastic performances. There had been some unspoken tensions between you and him for a while now, and you were feeling bold tonight. The two of you have been drinking for a few hours now, and although Ghouls had a higher tolerance for most things than humans, the two of you were beginning to feel the affects of the alcohol.

Aether took a small drink of his beer, which was his favourite beverage. His soft, amber eyes glanced at you through his silver mask as a short stream of foam floated down his glass, "I hope the Cardinal doesn't mind us hanging out. It's so deep in the tour at this point. I know the old man hates when we get distracted or take time off practicing.”

“Screw him,” you mumbled tiredly while leaning back against the couch, taking a shot of whiskey while staring off towards the wall, “I’m getting sick of his schedule for us Ghouls. He likes to believe that we don’t have social lives and we are just mindless drones, here to simply perform in his band.”

You had always been a little bit too outspoken when it came to Copia. Even though you were right in what you said, Aether didn't want to say it out loud and risk getting into trouble.

"I don’t think Cardinal Copia is necessarily in the wrong. He just doesn't care about our social lives. The band is all that matters to him."

Aether let out a small laugh, “And I think it's true. We're all replaceable after all."

You couldn't help but wince at Aether's last sentence. You were all replaceable... all of you.

You had been a member of the band when Ifrit was still the lead guitarist before young Sodo had come along. You and Aether both had been around before Copia had even come around, and Terzo had been the frontman, as well as the anti-pope of the ministry. Yet, so many of your friends had been replaced... Ifrit, Pebble, Omega. The list goes on and on.

None of you even knew why they had been replaced. It was simply done at random, which was what made moments like this scary. Would the Cardinal just replace everyone if they pissed him off?

"I don't like to think about that, Aether," you mumbled while leaning forward and grabbing your freshly-rolled joint off the table.

"I know," Aether responded softly, "But that’s why we can't become too careless and get attached. We'll get hurt that way. It's a damn shame that I'm already pretty attached to you. It'll really suck… if anything happens to either of us.”

He took another sip of his beer before speaking again, "Copia loves to remind us that we can be easily replaced. I get it, he likes having an air of authority over us. He likes to manipulate us into feeling grateful that we're in his band.”

"I want to get attached though," you mumbled, almost inaudible as you flicked your lighter to get your blunt lit, "I want to have lifelong friends in this band. I know I have you, but we have to keep our deep friendship a secret. I don't want to get sent back to Hell if I mess up one too many times. I don't want to get separated from you, Aether. That would be a fate worse than death."

His eyebrows raised at your last sentence. "Worst than death?"

You peered into his eyes and nodded. You meant what you said. You wouldn't get sent back to Hell without Aether. It just simply wasn't something that you would let happen. Not even Lucifer could pull you away from the rhythm guitarist.

Aether's mind was suddenly abuzz with countless thoughts. Was she just saying this because she was inebriated? Or was she genuinely implying something else?

He looked away for a moment, a bit embarrassed by his reddened cheeks, before he looked back to you, "Are you drunk?"

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. You hadn't expected this conversation to go in this direction, and honestly, the alcohol was to blame. You rarely let your stressors come afloat, especially around any of the other Ghouls. It was a sign of weakness, and you weren't weak by a longshot. However, you trusted Aether, and the alcohol definitely helped loosen that tongue of yours.

You flicked your tail slightly and took a drag from your blunt, coughing slightly as the smoke hit your lungs, "A little bit, but that doesn't change how I feel about any of this."

Aether seemed surprised by your answer, but you could see in his face that his eyebrow was not raised in judgment at all. Instead, he was taking a good long look at you, as if he was sizing you up. His cheeks were still red, which was a little strange for him.

He laughed softly, not making eye contact with you, "Does that mean you're genuinely afraid of losing me?"

You offered him a hit off of your blunt, unsure about whether or not he would take it. The alcohol was indeed making your tongue a bit looser than normal, but Aether did know how much he meant to you. He had to know how you felt about him.

"Yes. I don't want to ever lose you," you replied without hesitation, "If you got replaced and I was forced to stay in this band without you... I don't know what I would do. Whoever your replacement would be, I would hate them just because they replaced you. You are my best friend."

Aether took the offered joint, still not holding eye contact. This was a new side of you that he had never really seen before. Normally, you would try to hide the fact that you cared about him. You were very stoic whenever it came to things like this.

But tonight, you were telling him. No hiding it. In fact, there was something else there too...

Aether finally met your gaze, taking a long drag from the marijuana before speaking, "You know, you talk about me as if you’re in love with me."

You were completely speechless.

You didn't know how to respond.

Were you in love with Aether? You had always assumed it was some kind of puppy love phase that you were going through, or maybe a way to escape the harsh reality regarding the Satanic ministry that you lived to serve. It was a very stressful atmosphere, after all. Aether always offered a bit of relief, and often grounded you during moments like this.

"You act as if that's a surprise," you whispered after a few seconds, expelling smoke from your mouth and taking a few sips from your alcoholic beverage that sat on the coffee table.

You brain was beginning to buzz, which made your eyes slowly relax and sag.

Aether sat in silence for a couple of seconds. When he finally did speak, it was only to ask a single question. One that he had never asked before. One that had remained unspoken for so, so long.

"Do you love me?"

You licked your lips nervously and adverted your gaze down to the carpeted floor below. Suddenly, you were feeling shy and bashful.

Some thoughts you'd had about this exact moment began to eat at your stomach; scratching at it like a wild, caged animal. What if he wouldn't like you back?

You could handle the rejection. If that was the scenario, that would be manageable. Just swallow your sadness and pride, and keep going on with life as if it never happened. What you couldn't handle was a confession leading to awkwardness, and inevitably the end of your precious friendship with Aether.

This confession was beyond what you ever believed you could say to the other Ghoul.

“I suppose I do, yeah. I do love you, Aether.”

You took another sip of your drink, trying to advert your attention away from that risky confession. The alcohol was beginning to cause a vague cloud of haze to envelop your brain as you sat and waited for his response.

It was an agonizing wait. It was only a few seconds, but it felt like hours.

Aether finally closed his eyes, his cheeks a bright shade of red. His lips curled up into a tiny smile; his little fangs poking from his lips. He couldn't help but feel his heart swell in his chest, even though you weren't exactly looking at him right now.

His breath grew a little bit shaky when he finally spoke up again, but he was still a bit shy to make eye contact for now, "And you're sure this isn't just the drinking talking?"

You slowly brought your eyes back up to meet Aether’s, and shook your head, “You’ve known me for almost a year now, Aether. You have to know how I’ve felt about you all this time.”

Aether hadn’t said he loved you back though. Was he procrastinating? Did he not want to hurt your feelings? Why hadn’t he said it back yet?

His cheeks had grown even redder now. You'd certainly never seen him blush this much before. He laughed a little bit, his eyes now locked with yours, "I guess I thought this might have been a drunk confession... But I should have had a little more faith in you. My apologies."

Finally, he took a deep breath. He couldn't help the feeling of his heart beating so fast in his chest. He finally managed to say it.

"I love you too."

The instant relief that hit your body was unreal. The mix between the adrenaline rush over admitting your love to Aether, as well as the alcohol was slowly sinking away as those three perfect words left the Ghoul’s lips.

“Now it’s my turn to ask… that’s not just the booze talking, right?” you whispered, your cheeks flushing red to perfectly match the shade of red that was on Aether’s cheeks.

Aether couldn't do anything except chuckle. If anything, he was a little bit surprised that you would ask if this was just the alcohol speaking.

"Oh no, this is totally the booze talking," he said jokingly, only to be interrupted by a soft laugh. The colour had drained for your face, as you hadn’t realized off the bat that this was a joke.

The ghoul then quickly closed the distance between you two, making eye contact with you before leaning forward and placing a kiss on your forehead.

"No, I'm definitely not drunk… well, I'm a little drunk, but I feel this way sober too. I do love you, and I'm so glad you feel the same about me."

You leaned into his touch immediately. Your heart was hammering in your chest, and you were almost certain that Aether could hear it.

You couldn’t help it, though. Aether made you flustered no matter what he was doing.

Your cheeks flushed brighter as his lips grazed your forehead; your face turning upwards.

Your lips were only inches away from each other. You could feel Aether’s breath on your face; smell the beer on his breath. You could physically see the drunken desire beginning to cloud over his eyes.

“Are you sober enough to consent to me kissing you?” you asked huskily; your hand cupping his cheek in a loving, yet desirable manner.

Aether was certainly not used to the way you were acting right now. The way that you were leaning into him. Your hand cupping his cheek. The way that your lips were just inches away from his. This was different than usual.

"Am I sober enough?" he smirked, his own hands tracing up to your waist, one wrapping around it and pulling you closer, "I'm not sure. You should probably kiss me just to check. Just to make sure."

You exhaled and leaned forward, the multiple shots of whisky guiding your every move. You felt as if you could start crying from sheer happiness over this moment! This was beyond anything you ever believed could happen. Your lips sheepishly brushed against his; your heart leaping into you throat. Your claws slowly crept around and gripped at Aether's neck as you finally pressed your lips fully onto his. No brushing. No teasing. Right to the point.

Your kisses were certainly a lot more passionate than Aether was used to. It was almost as if you had lost yourself in some kind of trance. Your hands were holding him very tightly, your lips pressed firmly against his. Your lips were very soft and your breath was sweet; a hint of whisky combining with the scent of toothpaste.

The ghoul was surprised at the way that you took the initiative, but you could almost see a glint in his eyes as he kissed you back.

While moaning, you nibbled hungrily on his lips as your kisses quickly morphed into something more hungry… more passionate. Tongues dancing together, you slowly began to climb into Aether's lap, pushing him deeper into the couch. Your breath was coming out in ragged, lustful gasps as you would occasionally abandon the Ghoul's lips for a breath of air. That was rare though. Aether's lips were like the fountain of youth that you had been searching for your entire life. You didn't want to leave it ever again.

"You taste so good," you groaned while sucking on his bottom lip; a mischievous look in your eyes.

Your kisses were certainly making Aether feel things that he had never felt before in his entire life. Never mind the fact that all of this was coming from you—little, shy (Y/N). To see you taking such a brazen initiative was exciting.

As you abandoned his lips again for a breath of air, he chuckled softly, "I love how hungry you are for me right now."

Before you could speak again, Aether grabbed a fistful of your hair.

Your eyes snapped shut as a small moan left your lips. A chuckle left his lips as Aether pulled roughly on my hair, eating up your reaction. You could see that the beer was making the usually docile and harmless Ghoul turn into something more. The lust in his eyes was unreal, and it excited you more than you ever knew you were capable of.

"A-Aeth!" you groaned, using the nickname you had given him when the two of us originally met all that time ago.

The Ghoul pulled your hair slightly, angling it to the side so your neck would cock with it. His swollen lips (swollen, from how aggressively you were making out with him only moments ago) immediately began to attack your sensitive flesh, leaving little purple and blue bruises on your pale skin.

Aether's eyes were now completely closed as his mouth worked its way up your neck, forcing the sweetest noises to leave your lips. He wanted to mark you. He wanted you to be his and only his. No one should be allowed the joy of having access to your soft, delicate skin.

"That's a good girl," Aether breathed out softly, moving one of his hands to massage your chest. He squeezed softly at your breasts, causing a breath to hitch in your throat. "You love when I mark your flesh, am I right?"

You leaned back, your eyes rolling into the back of your head while adjusting the weight on the rhythm guitarist's lap.

"Y-Yes. I want all the others to know I belong to you," you whispered, your words slightly slurring together thanks to your drunken state, as well as the lust that was pooling in your abdomen, "I l-love when you mark me!"

As he slowly continued caressing your chest, he leaned forward and moved his mouth back to your neck.

"I'm glad you want to belong to me," he murmured, "Now… show me how much you love me."

Your stomach clenched in excitement.

You knew exactly what Aether wanted.

He wanted your mouth.

You slowly kissed his lips one more time; savouring his taste. Then, you slipped off of his lap and got onto your knees on the floor; staring up at the Ghoul in desire. You rested your face on his thigh while squeezing it softly with your hand, "Tell me what you want, then."

Aether had a smug look on his face now. He sat there comfortably, leaning back on the couch, not expecting you to fall to your knees and do as he asked. It was such a sharp contrast from the timid, shy girl you were at first. Now, he could really tell that his words had had an effect on your behaviour. You were certainly behaving as someone completely different right now.

He smirked down at you, his voice laced with excitement, as he responded, "I want to be worshipped."

You purred and allowed your hands to drift upwards towards his belt, "Oh, I can worship you, that's for sure."

You quickly unclasped his belt and unzipped his pants. You could immediately see his white boxers which were holding your prize. You carefully pawed at them to lightly tease the Ghoul, earning a few grunts from his lips. You could already see the blood beginning to pool in his cock, which was only separated from you by that thin fabric.

Aether let out a sharp gasp suddenly as your cold hand dove into his boxers; grasping his cock lightly. As soon as you did, he could feel a rush of heat pool through his body. Your touch was making him feel very hot and tingly. Every inch of his body was pulsing with excitement from your touch.

He let out another soft moan as he watched you completely pull his boxers away, forcing them down to his knees. “You're definitely making me feel like a God right now…"

You giggled innocently while batting your eyelashes up at him as you got a good look at what he was concealing. Your mouth watered slightly; your eyes never leaving his dick.

"I'll worship you more than I worship Lucifer himself, my sweet Aether," you whispered while placing your hands delicately upon his thighs, "I don't care what punishments await me for saying that. You are all I live for, and all I die for."

Aether felt his breath grow hot and heavy.

You leaned on him while carefully grasping his dick in your palm; teasingly stroking it. Your vision was hazy and dark, yet even though you were as drunk as physically possible right now, you knew you wanted this. Aether wanted it too. This was written in the stars. The two of you were handpicked by Lucifer to be a part of the Emeritus ministry, and you were handpicked to be life partners. This was all beyond your understanding, and neither of you were against this.

Aether's eyes were clouded with unbridled lust as he watched you begin to pleasure him,

"Open up, sweetheart," he purred while stroking the side of your face with gentle fingers, "I want to see what else your mouth can do besides sing pretty notes."

Like the obedient Ghoul you were, you complied without hesitation. You firmly grasped Aether's shaft, and slowly licked up the length; from his balls to his tip.

Aether closed his eyes at the sensation, his entire being humming with arousal. He let out a soft moan, his fingers twitching slightly.

Your tongue then began to swirl around Aether’s sensitive flesh, “Mmm,” you mumbled while puckering your lips and lightly peppering kisses across the head of his dick; sucking lightly, “You look like you’re enjoying this.”

Aether shivered at the light suction combined with your tongue swirling around his cock; the shaft beginning to twitch impatiently. He gasped, unable to speak, his hips beginning to move involuntarily.

“Yeah... I am."

As his hips began to move, you knew that you had Aether wrapped around your finger. The Ghoul was so sensative to touch right now, thanks to the alcohol that the two of you had drank, and your lips felt like the most enticing experience in the world. So, you kept going.

You giggled lightly, finally taking Aether completely into your mouth; the tip grazing across your uvula. You gagged slightly, but didn’t let up.

You secretly hoped that Aether wouldn’t face fuck you right now with all the whiskey slushing around in your stomach… it would be a huge turn off to puke all over his dick.

Aether's eyes rolled back in his head as he moaned loudly. He couldn't believe how good this felt. His hands tangled into your hair, holding you close while his hips bucked against the other Ghoul's face.

You sputtered and placed your hands on Aether’s thighs, coming up for a breath. As you gasped for air, a stream of drool trickled down your lips, causing his dick to twitch at the mere sight of you.

“Fuckkkk, you’re so hot,” Aether groaned, his eyes lighting up as he watched you drool, “The way you take my dick is divine.”

A blush flushed over your cheeks at Aether’s words. Some pre-cum was beginning to bead at the tip of the quintessential Ghoul’s tip, and without hesitation, you lightly licked the surface; collecting the salty liquid on your tongue.

A groan left Aether’s mouth at the sight.

“I love making you feel good,” you whispered while taking him back in your mouth again; sloppily bobbing your head up and down on his length.

Aether cried out in pleasure, his back arching as you fully took him into your mouth. His fingers intertwined with your hair, tugging lightly to assist in deepening his thrusts.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he growled while letting out a low groan, "You feel so good wrapped around my cock... oh, fuck!"

It pleased you greatly... those little noises leaving your lover's mouth due to how good you were making him feel. This is all you've wanted for the past year of knowing the rhythm guitarist. You'd wanted to make him feel good, and hear these little words of encouragement flow from his lips. You were in heaven right now.

"Good boy," you whispered while gasping for air; saliva and pre-cum mix beginning to dribble down your swollen lips, "I love when you moan for me. Do I make you feel good?"

Another groan left Aether's lips at your dirty words; his cock twitching irritably, "You do… You make me feel so good, sweetheart. No mouth can compare to yours."

That was true. You were good with your mouth, sure, but there were also other factors that made this feel good for the Ghoul. The bond you two shared.

This wasn't just some drunken one-night stand. This was the combination of two twin flames… two soul mates. This was fate being decided, and that made everything you did feel so much better than even Aether was anticipating.

You lightly kissed the tip of Aether's cock before dipping your head back onto it.

You moaned reflexively on his length, the vibrations causing immense pleasure to assault the older Ghoul's cock. Aether cried out once more, his hips jerking forward as he felt your throat tighten around him.

You could tell the quintessential Ghoul was beginning to get close. The way Aether was beginning to thrust his dick into your throat, as if he was getting ready to hit his peak was a telltale sign.

You continued to sloppily pleasure your friend's cock, certain to help Aether reach his orgasm. Your mouth watered in anticipation as you felt Aether's fingers tangle through your hair.

"F-Fuck, (Y/N)!" the Ghoul wheezed, his whole body growing stiff and rigid as he came. You reflexively gagged around the length getting shoved down your throat, as well as the steaming-hot liquid rushing towards your gut.

Aether slumped backwards on the couch, his chest aggressively rising and falling as your mouth slowly slipped from his dick.

You coughed lightly, some of Aether's cum streaming from your lips and onto the carpet below.

You fell from your knees and onto your ass, wiping the cum from your face with the back of your wrist; the cloudy liquid sticking to your flesh.

"You're not tired yet, right?" you asked, your voice hoarse from the intense blowjob that you had just given Aether.

Aether chuckled, his eyes soft as he stared down at you. He ran a hand through your hair and stroked your cheek with his thumb, "If you're still okay with continuing, then I am, sweetheart."

A groan left your throat, which sounded slightly like a purr, "Yeah, I want to keep going."

That was all Aether needed to hear. He shakily got to his feet and picked you up carefully from underneath your arms, hoisting you onto the couch.

Aether softly cupped your cheek with his hand, slowly capturing your lips in his. He could taste himself on your lips which had his dick springing back to life once again. He pushed you lightly against the back of the couch and began to feverishly remove your shirt. His arousal was peaking again, which made you grow increasingly excited.

You allowed the Ghoul to remove your shirt, exposing your cute, black bra. Aether was practically drooling at the sight of your supple, pale flesh.

Aether effortlessly unclasped your bra; his lips never leaving yours. You shivered slightly, your top half now fully exposed to the Ghoul, as well as to the chilling temperature of the room. Goosebumps appeared on your flesh, causing a low chuckle to leave Aether's throat.

"Goddamn, you're absolutely gorgeous," he whispered while carefully squeezing your breast into the palm of his hand, "I... am obsessed with you."

A blush ferociously flooded your cheeks, a moan threatening to leave your lips as Aether kneaded into your breasts lovingly, "You're just drunk. That's the alcohol talking," you murmured, grabbing the shaft of his cock with your hand, pumping it slowly.

A small groan left Aether's lips as you began to pump him, his left hand trailing down to begin unzipping your pants, "Trust me, this isn't the alcohol talking, honey. I have been obsessed with you, your personality... everything, ever since I met you. If this is the alcohol, then I'm chronically drunk."

You couldn't stop the small smirk from taking over your lips. You pushed your lips to his one more time, inhaling his scent as he pushed your pants and underwear off your legs, "You should go to alcohol's anonymous."

Aether rolled his eyes in amusement, twisting your nipple roughly in between his thumb and forefinger, eliciting a little gasp of pleasure from your lips, "Shush. Not funny."

"It's a little funny," you argued while leaning back on the couch, your legs opening for the Ghoul.

Your mind was still foggy from pleasure as the Ghoul positioned himself in between your legs. You gasped, Aether's middle finger slowly stroking up your wet folds; your body shuddering from the sudden pleasure.

"You like that?" he murmured lowly while slowly stretching your leaking hole with two of his digits, moans spilling from your lips, "Does that feel good?"

"Y-Yes," you moaned slightly as Aether began to stroke your clit with his thumb. Slow and antagonizing movements... waves of pleasure.

Aether continued this teasing for a little bit longer, absolutely eating up the little noises coming from your lips. His fingers were almost pruned by the time he was rubbing his tip against your clenching hole.

"Tell me what you want me to do," he whispered while teasingly pushing the tip of his dick into your cunt, "What do you want me to do to you?"

You were suddenly bashful; your cheeks flushed with emotions. Swallowing a mouthful of saliva, you nodded up at him; locking eyes with him, "I... want you to fuck me, Aeth."

There was a hint of an impatient tone in your voice. It made sense though with all of Aether's teasing, and for how long the two of you have had all this built-up tension. The two of you have wanted this for a very long time.

Without hesitation, Aether leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. You shook with anticipation as he lined his cock up with your hole before slowly pushing inside.

You hissed in mild discomfort from the stretch. Although you were plenty aroused and stretched due to Aether's fingering, it still wasn't painless.

Aether hesitated after sensing discomfort from you, "You okay?" he whispered, holding back the urge to buck his hips forward.

"Y-Yeah, I'm fine," you whispered while carefully grappling at the couch below, trying to hold on and ground yourself, "You can move. I'm fine."

Aether hesitated a moment more, but then slowly began to thrust in and out. Very slowly.

It was probably a good thing that the Ghoul had waited and moved like he did. Although you were confident you were okay, he made 100% sure that was true, and it was worth it.

Little moans began to escape your lips as the quintessential Ghoul began to pick up speed. He moaned, leaning into your chest as he moved in and out of your tight heat, his eyes slammed shut in pleasure.

"(Y/N)! F-Fuck! You feel so good!" Aether growled animalistically while abruptly pulling out and slamming back in, groaning into your ear.

You screamed in pleasure as Aether began to slam into your pussy; the pleasure was unlike anything you had ever experienced before. Your sharp claws scratched and tore at Aether's back as he had his way with your cunt.

"A-Aeth! Faster! Harder!" you begged, drool dribbling down your lips from the sheer pleasure that your precious friend was giving to you, "I need you, n-now! Oh, fuck!"

As you begged Aether to ravage you, his movements began to speed up. Hips slapping against hips, he positioned his arm underneath your leg and propped it up on his shoulder, giving him more range to fuck you senseless.

"You like that, huh?" Aether asked breathlessly as he watched himself disappear in your heat, his heart hammering in his chest, "You like how I feel inside of you?"

Your fangs dug into his shoulder; his flesh absorbing the lewd sounds reverberating from your throat as he cut through me like a hot butter to a knife.

It sounded like you screamed 'yes' to the quintessential Ghoul's question, but he wasn't for sure.

A sudden scream erupted from your throat as Aether's dick slammed into your G-spot; the friction causing him to shudder from pleasure, "Oh, Lucifer!" he wheezed, digging his own fangs into your shoulder as he continued to pile drive your cunt.

"Fuck! Holy shit!" you howled into Aether's ear; your knees growing weak from the pleasure. It was a good thing you were lying on the couch, otherwise, you may have fallen from how weak your knees were at this point.

If it was even possible, Aether's thrusts began to grow wilder and wilder as more screams and moans left your mouth. Your pussy was making a wet, squelching sound, which proved to Aether that you weren't faking it.

Your moans were sharp and high-pitched; your toes curled as wave after wave of pleasure began to cause your abdomen to heat up. The sensation was almost too much for you to bear.

"A-Aeth, I think... I'm gonna cum!" you wheezed breathlessly, tears streaming from your eyes from the pleasure.

Aether shuddered as your walls began to clench around his cock, threatening to milk him dry. He was determined to take you over the edge, "T-Take my cum! Take it all!"

Without hesitation, he pushed all the way to the hilt. Your head rolled backwards, a string of incoherent words streaming from your lips as you felt Aether's cum coat your pussy. You came at the same time, a fiery pleasure coating your abdomen as you squeezed the cum from Aether's length.

"Fuck! FUCK!" you howled, latching onto Aether's shoulder with your fangs once more.

The two of you laid like that for a little while, just trying to catch your breath as you both came down from the pleasure high. You could taste blood. Looking down, you realized you had penetrated Aether's skin with your fangs drawing blood.

"Oh, shit. Are you okay?" you whispered while grabbing your discarded shirt; dabbing the blood away with the material, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

His lips met yours, a small chuckle leaving his lips, "Honey, I don't care. I don't even feel it. You made me feel the best that I ever have before. You could hit me with a car and I wouldn't bat an eye."

You giggled at how silly Aether was; savouring your kiss for as long as you could before slowly pushing the rhythm guitarist's cock from your gaping hole, "You're so dramatic."

"Maybe it's the alcohol?" Aether joked while covering yours and his naked bodies with a large blanket.

"Shut up," you mumbled while snuggling into his side; embracing your sweet companion like your life depended on it, "It's definitely the alcohol..."

88 notes · View notes

icycoldninja · 3 months

Note

Hii hope ur well ❤️ can I request Dante taking care of fem reader after a long tiring day of work

Thank you, I'm doing fantastic, I hope you are as well. Time for fluff!

Quiet night in (Dante x Fem!Reader)

Work had been hectic the last few days; you'd been coming home late and exhausted nearly every day. Dante had noticed your exhaustion--not that you were trying to hide it--and decided that the next time you left for work, he'd spend the entire day cleaning up the house, cooking (to the best of his abilities), and setting things up for a nice quiet night in later.

When you got home that night, you were surprised to see the floors mopped, appliances polished, and food on the table. "Wow..." You mumbled, honestly surprised. You strode into the kitchen, finding two big bowls of macaroni and cheese on the table, as well as a large platter of dinosaur chicken nuggets. You chuckled as you headed towards the sink to wash your hands, astonished as to how you could forget Dante's immaturity so easily.

Childish or not, it was awesome of him to do that for you, you couldn't have been more grateful. You were about to locate and thank him for his generosity, when you suddenly became aware of this strange thumping noise coming from the staircase. You poked your head out of the kitchen and caught sight of something truly bizarre.

Dante, wearing Dr. Faust, was dancing his way down the stairs, a boombox over his shoulder. "Ah, Y/N, you're home!" He announced, tossing the boombox onto the couch and running up to you before scooping you into his arms and twirling yactually. You giggled, throwing your arms around his shoulders and kissing him. "Thanks for making dinner, Dante." He grinned in response, carrying you to the kitchen. "Oh, so you saw? Good. Hope you like chicken nuggies!" You laughed; he nudged the char away from the table with his foot and carefully lowered you into it. "Now...let's eat, then we can watch a movie," He said, plopping into his seat and shoveling a huge spoonful of mac and cheese into his mouth.

After you two had finished eating, Dante picked you up and carried you to the living room, instructing you to pick a movie to watch while he took care of the dishes. You insisted on doing them yourself, but Dante's will was iron; he refused to let you do any work. "You've been working yourself ragged, babe," He called, barely audible over the sounds of clanking dishes and running water. "Take a minute and chill."

And so you did, draping yourself over the couch and scrolling through your favorite streaming service until you found an interesting looking movie. You called Dante, who arrived with two giant bowls of popcorn, one for you and one for him. He slid onto the couch and pulled you into his lap, hooking an arm around you and tugging you close. The warmth was appreciated; calming, even.

Dante had accomplished his mission. You had a relaxing evening, snuggling up with your boyfriend and binge-watching TV all night long.

#Dmc #Dmc5 #Dmc dante #Dmc 5 dante #Dante x reader #Dmc dante x reader #Fluff #Fluffy fanfic #Dante x reader fluff #devil may cry #devil may cry 5 #dante devil may cry #devil may cry 5 dante #Cute #sorry it's kinda short #requested #thanks for requesting #icycoldninja writes

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roo-bastmoon · 9 months

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With 17 versions to buy and 8 versions combined for 160 streams per Spotify account, plus Melon and FLO streams now counting, of course Jungkook’s Seven is charting high and sweeping awards. Firstly because it’s Jungkook of course, and secondly because it’s been given every possible advantage.

My (perhaps controversial) opinions about that are below the cut.

Honestly? I really can’t feel good about any “first” or “most” or “fastest” records achieved by this single—catchy as it is—which wasn’t written or conceived by Jungkook and has nothing much personal or deeply meaningful about it. It’s a fun feel-good summer pop song, for sure, but no more groundbreaking than, say, Bad Decisions (in my opinion… I have no musical expertise.)

But I can’t feel super great about all the records and awards because this many versions immediately restocked and shipped and auto play and promoted to radio and ads and leadership hyping only this while Jungkook says he wants to be the one and only artist to conquer kpop and pop for the next thousand years… it all just doesn’t really sit right with me.

When compared to the 10 months Jimin forewent sleep, food, and showers to have a hand in every aspect of his first (and deeply personal and symbolic) album, which was never sent to radio or restocked, got split tracks and delayed playlisting and shady articles, plus not one kudos or congratulations from leadership even after he made history for South Korea and stocks soared…

Forgive me, but it all leaves a bad taste in my mouth. It is ruining the song for me.

Some things like culled streams and sales are out of the company’s control. But the things I mentioned above were all possible for Jimin’s Hot 100 #1. Even if every Tannie has total say in their projects' sales and marketing, and everyone was on board with only Jungkook getting the Hybe America "red carpet" treatment, I can’t lie and say the stark difference feels fine. It doesn't, and I confess I leave the headphones in every time Seven comes up in the playlists now.

I’m not jealous. If anything, I have a warped sense of pride that Jimin has done so fantastically well despite so many, many obstacles stacked against him. I love to champion an underdog and I’m glad I never need to doubt his success was organic. I actually feel extra admiration for how humble and hardworking he continues to be—no resting on any laurels for the It Boy. I'm so glad he is my ult-bias.

*sigh*

Listen to me.

I know Jungkook and Jimin are both genuinely good people. I know they are sincerely talented and hard working. I know they truly love each other. I know all members are legitimately happy for each others' success.

I know what’s important to me may not be important to them, nor what they want for their careers. And even if I feel their company’s making shitty decisions, I know my place as a fan.

So I trust them. And I simply hang in. I hope lessons were learned for smoother, fairer future releases. Because neglecting assets makes zero business sense, and perceived favoritism can erode the group’s bonds and tear ARMY apart. It is, frankly, just plain stupid.

So I may dislike things about their solo era rollouts and I can't bring myself to sugar-coat it; but I mostly try to keep my negative thoughts to myself and find things I CAN celebrate with other fans on an open timeline.

I never want another Tannie to feel anguished and misunderstood the way Hobi did about JitB’s physicals.

Watching Jungkook’s face here on his London live when he talks about people hating him just haunts me. It guts me. I can't stand it. That kid was going through it and I don't believe he has a malicious bone in his body, so it just really upsets me seeing him like that.

There’s so, so much about this company, this industry, this culture that I just don’t understand. But I trust Park Jimin completely. As long as Park Jimin loves and supports his members, God knows, I will too.

So!! On that note...

We have Jungkook’s birthday to celebrate next week and Taehyung’s album to support the week after that. I’m going to do my best to rest up and gather some good energy for these things!

And of course, we must congratulate our Jimin, who made history again today, and no matter what, will always set the standard. I just know he's cooking up something else for us with all these weeks of silence, and I cannot wait to go BERSERK for it whenever it drops.

I’m not really sure I had a point to this post. It’s just that I have been mulling all this over for a long time, and finally felt well enough to sit up long enough to come online and type up my thoughts.

I guess what I mostly wanted to share with my friends here is that it’s okay to feel really disappointed and even enraged at the way some things play out over the (hopefully life-long) careers of BTS members. Don't let folks gaslight you. Call it like you see it. (Maybe keep sensitive things behind a cut or in the DMs--and of course, please change your mind if you get better insight. In the end, only the Tannies really know what's going on with the Tannies.)

But while I’m still side-eyeing the company so hard right now, I’ve decided to love and support the boys as people and artists. I'm trying to believe the best in everyone. I’m still an OT7 Jikooker.

You don’t have to agree with me, and if you need to unfollow, I understand. But I figured I should just tell you guys (especially the new followers) where I am at with all this.

Love, Roo

#jimin #jikook #jungkook

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shadesofgrace88 · 11 months

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So I watched Elemental yesterday and it was so freaking fantastic!

I've honestly been waiting for this movie since it was announced in May 2022 and it absolutely did not disappoint. The art and concept drew me in immediately, but it also meant so much more than just a romcom story. After learning that part of the story is about interracial couples, I was even more intrigued--as my hubby and I are an interracial couple.

The entire team behind this movie obviously poured their hearts into this film. From gorgeous visuals to a beautiful musical score to a heartfelt story, it all felt so carefully crafted. How they managed to weave together so many pieces of different stories (immigration, self-discovery, romance, infrastructure, etc.) into less than two hours but still have it full of such an emotional impact is simply amazing.

I legit had tears streaming down my cheeks by the end of the movie. I'm so happy that this story got to be told and captured in such an astounding way (again; got to shout out the lovely, brilliant, carefully studied animation). The movie is full of heart, discovery, and humor. The puns are a definite plus! Watching on the big screen was so incredibly awesome too. I cannot wait to watch Elemental again!

Please go watch Elemental and support Pixar with new and original ideas.

P. S. I'm still like emotionally drained/overstimulated by my love for this movie, so maybe I'll write more later, but here's a quick review at the moment.

#pixar elemental #elemental #pixar #disney pixar #animation #movie review #elemental 2023 #elemental review

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failureface · 3 months

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thoughts on "Welcome Home, Franklin"

(SPOILERS AHEAD)

Okay, this special was really great.

I love Franklin. He's a sweet boy who never had a unkind thing to say about Charlie Brown- he was the straight man to the wacky antics of the Peanuts gang. But I never got the feeling he was more than that in the strips. This special serves as the backstory and character that Franklin didn't originally get, but sorely needed.

And this special beautifully and gracefully rights some of the wrongs that past Peanuts media made.

I was surprised this film even went there in terms of discussing racism a little. Peanuts is an IP that you expect people to be overly-protective of. 'No, the scene in "A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving" isn't racist- and it's NOT weird that all the kids are white' is more of what I expected to hear from this. But refreshingly, this special addresses it. Like, YEAH, there IS a lack of diversity! It feels so much better for that stuff to be acknowledged rather than swept under the rug.

I love the fact that Franklin is unsure of himself and his ability to make friends. This makes him super relatable and sympathetic, and also makes a clear connection to why he gravitates towards Charlie Brown. The two of them bond over their shared feeling of being "the Underdog", and not knowing how to make friends or navigate social landscapes. Franklin also opens up Charlie Brown to new experiences and knowledge, telling him about discrimination and introducing him to music he hasn't heard before. Not only that, but Franklin encourages Charlie Brown to be less anxious and push himself further. And Charlie Brown is a much needed friend and sympathetic ear for Franklin. They have each other's back and their bond is undeniable.

That's what this special is truly trying to get at. That friends of different backgrounds and experiences from us can help us to learn and grow as people. I think that's a really wonderful message and one that we all need at any age, and one that we especially need now.

Overall, this special really blew it out of the water, and I gave it five stars.

Special shoutout if you were able to make it to the premiere stream in the Peanuts discord, that made it twice as fun to watch!

Some miscellaneous thoughts under the cut

Franklin's music taste is so elite

The music picks in this movie are honestly fantastic. The soundtrack really elevates the experience and every song is awesome

THE BEACH SCENE! It's so rewarding as a fan to see moments that are plucked straight from the strip. It feels like the people making them really know Peanuts

All the little tiny schrucy crumbs- I eat it up. I know screenshots and gifs will be made and posted and I will be reblogging them.

Lucy and Franklin's beef- I wasn't expecting it but it's so funny and adds some really great dynamics into the fold

Since this is about the friendship between Charlie Brown and Franklin specifically, minor inaccuracies Franklin actually being on Peppermint Patty's baseball team in the strip are forgiven. Some fans more scrupulous than I would probably have an issue with this, but I'm not one of those fans. This isn't 100% faithful to Peanuts Lore but I don't mind.

I LOVED the scene where Charlie Brown wants to pull the breaks and Franklin wants to keep going. It shows so much without saying anything, and it gives way for great conflict that makes sense and comes from real places within the characters

And I love how Franklin is allowed to be mad, and he and Charlie Brown fight. We're not afraid to rock the boat anymore, and it makes Franklin feel so much more human

Just the right amount of Snoopy scenes, this one reached the perfect balance of Snoopy and Story

Everything is just so overwhelmingly cute here I had to restrain myself from writing "cute" or any of its synonyms in my review

"We saved you a seat!" <3333

#Welcome Home Franklin #my posts #reviews #Peanuts #franklin armstrong #Charlie Brown #theres so much stuff im forgetting to mention but my ADD mind cant think of everything at once sorry guys

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prolix-yuy · 10 months

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Chapter 1: I Once Had a Different Path

Pairing: Jack "Whiskey" Daniels x F!Reader "Sugar"

Summary: It's only been a year.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: T, discussions of a bad relationship, drinking, little bit of angst, will be E in later chapters so full series is 18+ MINORS DNI.

Notes: Welcome back to Westworld Whiskey! Almost the moment I finished Cognitive Dissonance the idea for this fic leapt into my head, and I've been trying to figure it all out since! The outpouring of love for this story makes me unreasonably giddy, and I am so excited to share what Jack and Sugar have been up to.

This story takes place exactly a year after the events of Cognitive Dissonance. Honestly, the Westworld timeline is confusing as heck, and so much happens that the public wouldn't know or see, so in terms of the show it's taking place after the fall of the Delos theme parks early in season 3. I'm taking some liberties with how Westworld and the world around it works, but we should all have a good time because of it. For those not as familiar with later seasons, the "real world" takes place in 2053 in a modern futuristic setting.

Cross-posted on AO3

Decoherence Masterlist || Whiskey & Westworld Masterlist

The glow of sun on your back, baking into your skin and spreading golden through your limbs, makes today feel like a really freaking good day. You’re wearing your favorite outfit, your shoes are comfy on your feet, and the air is just warm enough that you don’t have to wear a heavy jacket. When the door to the coffee shop schicks open, the uplifting scent of dark roast and cinnamon sugar practically dances on your tongue.

Strike that. A fantastic day.

Lacey is already at her favorite sitting spot, a low table with two high-backed armchairs jammed in a corner far from the automated baristas and hiss of milk froth. She catches sight and waves, bright peony pink in her chiffon dress. Curled in the chair she’s akin to neapolitan ice cream, and just as cool when she gestures to your waiting cup. Not before jumping up to give you a hug, though.

“I’m so glad to see you! It’s been too long!” she exclaims, a sentiment you’ve often heard from long-lost acquaintances but Lacey puts every ounce of honesty behind it. You give her another squeeze before settling in your proffered chair, cradling the thick retro ceramic mug in your hands.

“Well you’ve been pretty busy, Mrs. Hughes,” you sing-song, back, knocking your shoes off so you can settle more comfortably. “How was the honeymoon? The photos were gorgeous.”

You descend into vacation chatter, looking at photos on Lacey’s phone and laughing over whatever little anecdote she shares. The coffee buzzes pleasantly in your veins, bittersweet on your tongue. The sun streams in the café window and drapes warmth across your shoulders again.

It feels like the perfect day.

"How's married life treating you?"

Lacey smiles, bright enough to crinkle her whole face, and the radiance of it blooms in your chest.

"Not much different really, which is probably for the best," she says, taking another sip of her coffee. You're prepared to ask her something else, some follow-up question, when she reaches over and squeezes your hand.

"You look really good, too," she says, her eyes softening. "I know it was hard, with the wedding and everything going on with Eric at the same time, but...you look so much happier."

Your throat tightens, but it's a welcome feeling for once.

"I am. Much happier."

She’s right. It was hard. Once you were alone with your thoughts, your decision made, all of the terrifying reality had crashed down on you. You’d sobbed in your car, half curled in the driver's seat, trying to will yourself to go inside and face Eric.

It didn’t get any better once you finally did. The shouting, the accusations, the tears, and shockingly a chair kicked against the wall so hard it left an ugly dent. He never laid a hand on you, but the anger raked across your pounding heart, the cruelty sinking into your flesh like teeth. You grabbed just enough of your things to escape, his bellowing voice following you as your hands shook.

What the fuck do you mean you’re leaving?

What the hell did Lacey say to you?

Are you fucking serious?

After all I’ve done for us?

I can’t believe you’re being so selfish.

What has gotten into you?

The words echoed between your ears while you laid in your motel room bed, too raw and ashamed to call anyone for a place to stay. You woke stiff and silent and achingly alone, and regret welled in your throat.

Were you being stupid? Were you giving up the life you were supposed to have?

But then the day passed, hours spent driving aimlessly with the radio on low, long walks on bike paths lost in your thoughts. And while failure burned behind your eyes, the dreaded whispers of why didn’t you try harder creeping into your brain, the vice grip in your chest began to unwind. A lightness you hadn’t felt in years began lifting your shoulders, your head, even the corners of your mouth.

The neverending ache was finally gone.

You slept better that night, and in the morning you called Lacey. She drove out to pick you up, her tight embrace ushering in a new flood of tears.

“Oh sweetie, I’m so sorry,” is all she says at first, rocking you back and forth like when you were both young and upset about a schoolyard fight. Then more pointed questions, her face hardening as you detail the slow descent into unhappiness you’d been hiding from her for years.

“He never did anything bad. I just…I couldn’t…” You struggled to voice all the fears that still lingered until she squeezed your hands.

“He didn’t have to treat you badly to not treat you the way you wanted. And if he can’t change, or doesn’t want to change, then this isn’t right for you.”

A fresh wave of tears followed the well-worn tracks down your face.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

She rubbed at your face with a crumpled tissue.

“Everything is going to be okay.’

It took a few days before the tornado of Lacey’s true feelings pulled to the forefront. Later she’d tell you she barely kept her cool while you cried in her living room, Alan instructing her to punch it out at the gym rather than overwhelm you. But barely settled into your temporary housing, she rang you in the middle of the day.

“We’re getting your stuff.”

“What…?”

“Eric is at work, Alan did a drive-by and checked. He’s waiting with the truck. I’m picking you up and we’re getting your things, then we’re going to leave your key on the table and never go back.”

She was chatting in low tones with Alan when you answered the door, face lined with concern. The stern expression melted into dismay when she took in your tired eyes and sloped shoulders.

“That motherfucker should be ashamed of himself for doing this to you,” she spits out, crushing you into a hug that almost suffocates you.

“Lace, I was the one…” you tried to say, but she cut you off with a sharp chop of her hand.

“I’ve got plenty to say about Eric and what I think about him when everything settles, but I’ll tell you this - I fucking hate him for making you feel like this. And we’re going to get your things and never see him again.”

So you did, emptying your drawers and shared closet - always less room allocated for you than him. Lacey shuffled through mail and tossed in anything that had your name on it in a bankers box. Later you’d have to disentangle your lives, but for now you could take solace in having your toiletries back, and placing your photos and family heirlooms safe in Alan’s truck. He helped move your grandmother’s hope chest into the truck bed, and silently drove as Lacey let you lean on her shoulder. Your childhood stuffed dog sat in your lap, and its gentle weight gave you a moment of relief.

Eric’s shouting through the phone later that night sliced across your chest, but only for a brief moment. You’d left the ring on the counter, and that thankfully shut him up.

The following months had been a blur of canceled engagements, severed services, broken agreements and bitter voicemails. Eric tried a few times to entice you back, forgiving you for having cold feet and wanting to get dinner, coffee, to talk. Your heart tugged at the softness in his voice.

We can still make this work.

But then the cold reality of the situation crept in. He wanted the picture-perfect life he thought he deserved. He wanted to have everything without working for it. And most of all, he wanted you to be grateful for him giving you everything he thought you deserved. Not what you wanted, but what he decided you should want.

That was never going to change.

Lacey and Alan helped where they could, but you didn’t want to taint the excitement of their upcoming nuptials. So you told them you were fine and signed a lease on a modest apartment while you picked out the barbs of Eric’s latest outburst. You picked out a dress for her wedding and were secretly grateful that she didn’t make you a bridesmaid. You didn’t think you’d be able to keep it together in front of all her family and friends. You drank too much champagne and considered a tumble with one of Alan’s single friends but instead threw up in your hotel room toilet and woke up fully clothed on top of the bed. The first thought that greeted you once you could see through your headache was, “Thank fuck I’m not getting married.”

The giggles were sharp against your sore stomach, but with that you finally felt something in you begin healing.

“...and I know I wasn’t around as much as I could have been, and it kills me that you were going through it alone, and on my bachelorette for crying out loud, how insensitive was that…”

Lacey’s diatribe brings you back to the café and your cooling coffee and Lacey’s earnest grip on your hand. You shush her with a few squeezes.

“You were a big part of why I finally got up the courage to leave. And I am so fucking glad I did,” you say, earning another smile that glitters with morning light.

“I think someone else also had some influence,” Lacey says, looking pointedly over her cup as she takes an innocent sip. Your brow furrows briefly before the implication of her tone slams into your chest.

Jack.

“That was a year ago…holy shit, today,” Lacey exclaims, twisting her wrist to verify on her smart watch.

“Wow, yeah,” you say weakly, swirling the dregs of coffee in your cup.

Yet again, Lacey isn’t wrong. Jack did open your eyes to a world that could offer the care and comfort you were yearning for. But you’d been forced to push memories of him to the back of your mind.

Weeks after the breakup, with Lacey lying on your brand new bed in your half-empty apartment, you told her about your weekend with the suave yet gentle cowboy. She interjected with excited “I knew it!” and “Holy shit yes!” exclamations as you recounted the cattle run, the innocent lie, the dinner, and the lust-filled night (heavily redacted, met with disappointment). Once the story was told you laid beside each other, silence stretching until she finally said, “I’m so happy Jack helped you realize you deserve more.”

So were you.

“Did you ever think about booking another weekend?” Lacey asks, placing her cup down so she can more fully watch you, playful smirk making you roll your eyes. “I mean, before all the stuff in the news about them.”

Guests injured in the park. A veil of silence and NDAs falling over Delos. An uncertain return.

You chew on your answer for a moment. It’s easy to chalk up not going back to the current state of the park, but in recent weeks you had been thinking more and more about Jack. Maybe it was some old movie you caught late at night, horses riding across gloriously wide plains. A cowboy hat or two you swore you saw in a crowd, only to be tricked by perspective and light. Strong, broad silhouettes that reminded you of large hands, a clever mouth, a warm embrace.

Tell her the truth.

“No,” you finally sigh, putting your cup down a little firmly.

You couldn’t.

“Why not?”

“It’s all fantasy, I’m not into that more than once.”

You couldn’t bear to see him again.

“Not even a little more fantasy with a certain cowboy?” Her eyes drop to your left hand, and you realize you’ve been slowly rotating the turquoise band she gave you on your ring finger. When you returned the engagement ring it became a comforting weight replacing what you’d given up. You fold them instead under Lacey’s watchful eye.

“It’s not real,” is the excuse you give.

He’s not real, and you can’t have him.

Lacey shrugs, looking at the time again and gathering up her coat.

“Real enough that you changed your whole life over it,” she observes, not unkindly. You stand up as she gathers her purse.

“It was a perfect weekend. Going back would have ruined it.”

Him not remembering you would have ruined it.

Lacey sighs but acquiesces, giving you a hug and confirming your next coffee date in a couple weeks. They’ve become a sweet schedule you look forward to more than you thought.

Once she breezes out the door, all summer blush and cosmopolitan chic, you join the line to get a coffee to go. The machine at work is dismal, and you’d much rather spend the four dollars. You enter your order on the cool blue holoscreen and step to the side to wait. The warmth of a good conversation bubbles in your veins, a beam of sunlight caressing your back. Even the brief memory of Jack you allow - his hands soft on your skin, the tender brush of his nose on your cheek, how safe you felt in his arms - fills your heart to bursting. A smile plumps your cheek. Today really is an exceptional day.

But oddly enough, your toes are wet.

Looking down, you can’t help but let out an exasperated, “Oh c’mon you idiot,” as you realize you didn’t put your shoes back on, and have now stepped in someone’s spilled beverage. So maybe not the perfect day, but you’re close enough to home to swing by and grab a new pair of socks. Shaking your head, you spin on your heel to retrieve your abandoned shoes.

You could have done it a breath sooner, or later, and never been the wiser. Or you could have kept your damn shoes on - do we live in a barn, your mother’s voice echoes in your ears - and avoided the issue in the first place. But today, on an exceptionally perfect day, you turn and take a step just as someone passes behind you, propelling your frame into their broader form. You almost bounce, but the stranger catches you by your shoulders, large firm palms wrapping around your biceps.

“Whoa there,” a deep voice says, laced with a southern drawl. It tickles something in your brain, neurons firing at memories close to the surface.

“Shit, sorry,” you mumble, stepping back to apologize properly to the man you almost bowled over. As your eyes begin their ascent the voice is clearer, sharp as a bullwhip crack.

“You okay Sugar?”

Your breath freezes in your throat, eyes snapping to the man’s face. He swims in your vision before the soft curl of his brown hair, the delicate trim of his mustache, the hawkish curve to his nose comes into focus. If that wasn’t enough for your short-circuiting brain to manage, his plush lips part in concern, deep chocolate eyes darting across your face.

Jack?

“I - oh,” he says, his grip tightening on your shoulders. You wrench back, stumbling a half step away, still locked on his face.

Jack Jack Jack Jack Jack

People are looking at you now, agape and struggling to pull in a full breath, your brain tumbling like Alice down the rabbit hole.

Can’t be.

Jack.

Not real.

Jack.

How?

Jack.

“I can explain…”

Then the whole world shifts, and you’re falling.

#jack whiskey daniels x you #jack whiskey daniels x reader #jack whiskey daniels x f!reader #jack whisky daniels fanart #jack daniels x f!reader #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x female reader #agent whiskey x female reader #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey x reader #kingsman the golden circle fanfiction #westworld fanfiction #prolix fics

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