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lincolndjarin · 3 months

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Every Now and Then - ch. one

[ I Dream of Something Wild ]

pairing : joel miller x f!reader, platonicsoulmate!tommy & f!reader

word count : 6.4k

summary : Joel Miller destroyed you. He loved you, then he left, leaving you in the New York City, QZ. But he's a good southern gentleman, so of course he didn't leave you without a reminder of the time you spent together. Four years later you're living in Jackson, in a lovely little ranch house. (With your reminder.) The last person you want to see is Joel Miller, unfortunately you've never been particularly lucky.

tags/warnings : 18+ mdni, angst, canon typical violence, injury, language, manipulation, joel takes advantage of readers situation, eventual smut, no use of y/n, no physical description of reader, she is picked up by joel at one point but i'm a firm believer that he's strong enough to lift any one who may find themselves in the pov of our reader, joel is possessive and controlling, dark!joel miller in a sense?? like he's not really dark now but he's going to be, multiple time lines, not canon compliant, mentions of prostitution, i sorta made up my own timeline, i probs missed tags sorry!!

a/n : i really need to fix my writing schedule so i'm hoping that having a new fic to put my energy into is going to help!! also sorry if this chapter doesn't have much going on i need to set up a lot of stuff but i promise more action in future chapters

ao3 .𖥔 ݁ ˖ series masterlist .𖥔 ݁ ˖ main masterlist .𖥔 ݁ ˖ kofi

He crept up on you like the shadows as the sun sets in the west. An all encompassing darkness that blotted out the sun until all that was left was night. He sunk his claws into you so deep that your eyes adjusted to the dark, and you didn’t even realize how much time had passed until you shrunk away from the inevitable sunrise that made him cower away from the dawn as if he never really was big and scary.

And in the light of day you saw him for what he really was.

He was just a man, who was once a boy, who was scared of the dark.

So he made himself big, and terrifying, and he grew so accustomed to the thing he once feared that the very idea of anything else made him recoil.

You feel something akin to pity when you think of him now. That doesn’t mean you forgive him, but when you can stomach it you try to, for the sake of your peace. You’d probably be happier if you could just forgive him.

But you can’t.

So you don’t.

It’s hard when his own blood doesn’t think he’s a good man. Tommy was afraid of him. Terrified at the very thought of his big brother. You can recall several nights where you had woken up to him screaming in the sleeping bag beside you, absolutely petrified of a memory that had inevitably snuck in through the darkness. You never feared him quite like that, but seeing the effect he has on Tommy makes your stomach churn, a painful reminder of your own suffering.

Most of the time it’s easier to just not think of him at all, despite the reminders he’s branded into you forever. You ignore him when he tries to soak back into your very being, but at the end of the day he’s unavoidable. You see him in the dark brown eyes of others, hear him in Tommy’s southern drawl, taste him when you have the occasional sip of whiskey. He tries and tries relentlessly to worm his way back into you, but you never let him. You put up walls and you focus on other things, anything, that isn’t Joel Miller. And even though you can’t forget him entirely you manage to ignore the memory of the man you once loved for several years.

Until one day it’s impossible to keep the thought of him away.

Until he himself makes it impossible.

Then - NEW YORK CITY, QUARANTINE ZONE : 2019

“Stay off of it or you’re going to lose it.”

That’s what the QZ doctor had told you. A couple weeks of bed rest was the most he could offer when you came to him with your broken ankle.

A couple weeks without working is a death sentence.

If you don’t work you won’t be able to afford food. And you don’t have anybody to fall back on, no family, no friends, not even an acquaintance to borrow funds from.

Lose your leg or starve.

As appealing as it sounds, starvation isn’t an option, too painful.

So you have to work. The only issue with that is you’ve been blacklisted, the stupid doctor had you put on a no-shift list. You beg them to let you work, you’ll do anything, but they never budge.

You only have enough ration cards stocked up to make it to the end of the week so you have to consider your other options. You could sell yourself. It certainly isn’t uncommon and the money’s good but it’s too dangerous, especially if you can’t run on your leg. You’ve seen too many people get hurt in that profession to risk it. You don’t have a trade. You’re terrible at sewing, you can’t cook, there isn’t a need for much of anything else and you own nothing valuable.

So there’s only one other option for you.

You steal.

You dress inconspicuously, in your only pair of jeans and a plain shirt, both of which are getting rather tattered at this point but you have nothing else. With your jacket on you pull up your hood and you do the exact thing you aren’t supposed to do, and you walk.

The conditions in the QZ are poor enough that your limp doesn’t stand out. You walk up and down the streets all day, slow and steady, with your head down and you don’t take risks. You don’t take anything big or obvious, just little things. A single ration card peeking out of a pocket, a pocket knife off a vendor's table, stale bread, set away from the good stuff where no one is looking. And you return home each night with your pockets full and your leg aching.

By the end of your second week you’re still barely scraping by but you’re managing. What little ration cards you manage to snatch you use to buy food, but it’s still nothing compared to what you’re used to making. Your ankle feels worse by the day.

You need more.

You need to find a source of income that will let you rest or you’re going to lose your leg, which will leave you in an even worse position. It isn’t until you hear your neighbor slam his door that you come up with an idea.

Your neighbor probably has more cards than he knows what to do with, and he’s always coming and going so he probably wouldn’t even notice if you skimmed a little off the top. Nothing substantial, just enough to keep you going and give your leg time to heal.

The only problem is your neighbors reputation.

You doubt you’d have much of a chance of surviving him if you got caught. Joel Miller was a bit of an urban legend around the QZ. Of course you only knew him as your stoic neighbor, just a guy who didn’t make a lot of noise and came home at strange hours, and sometimes disappeared for days at a time.

But everyone else acted as if he was some kind of Boogey Man. You didn’t see him much in the streets but when you did children ran and people whispered, and while you had no knowledge of how he earned that reputation you knew it probably wasn’t pretty.

So you’d have to be careful.

He’s gone now, you’d heard him stopping down the hall so you decide it couldn’t hurt to take a peek, just scout out the area.

You climb out onto the fire escape, your leg aching as you do, and you use the dull little knife you’d stolen a few days ago to shimmy open his window lock. It slides open pretty easily, he’s probably rather confident that nobody would ever mess with him so he doesn’t seem to have the usual precautions taken to protect his belongings.

Lucky you.

Stepping into the room you wince as you land on your bad leg, stumbling onto the floor, knocking a board loose in the process.

“Shit.” You groan, sitting up quickly, trying to put everything back in its proper place when you catch a glimmer of something under the floor.

A revolver.

You shouldn’t be here. Joel Miller is a dangerous man, you knew that but you did this anyway, you can’t help but feel incredibly stupid as you stare at the weapon. You feel so stupid that you don’t even hear the click of a lock. You don’t even bother with the ration cards you can see peeking out from under the gun, you just want to leave and forget that you ever thought this was a good idea. It’s a struggle, getting back to your feet, your leg is throbbing, begging for a rest you can’t afford to take right now. With a groan you push the window open, eager for this silly idea to be over you try to figure out the best way to go about this. You’re starting to lose feeling in your leg, should you go bad leg first or try to balance on it while shimmying the rest of your body out the window?

You never get to decide what the best course of action is because your head is slammed against the wall, your knees crumple underneath you as you hit the floor, the room spinning as your leg bends at an angle that makes you shriek. You slap your hand over your mouth but it’s far too late for that. He’s been here the whole time. It’s dark but you can still make out the foreboding shape of his figure. The broad shouldered beast that’s glaring down at you, his boot nudging your chin roughly as you bite back a shriek of fear.

“I could report you to FEDRA for this.” The gruff voice whispers into the darkness.

You’re desperate to avoid lockup, you know you’ll die in there, or worse. Although you’re not entirely sure what’s going to happen to you either way.

“I- I’ll tell them about your contraband.” You point frantically at the loose floor board. “They’ll lock you up too.” His glare is unwavering as he stares down at you. You’re a little worried that he might just kill you himself, there would be no consequences, no one would be looking for you.

No one would look for you.

The thought makes you shudder and even though you try to stop yourself you feel your eyes beginning to water. You hear footsteps, watching his outline move across the room before you’re shrinking away from the light of a dim lamp in the corner.

“You gotta be real dumb to find yourself in this situation.” He mutters, turning back around to stare at you. His gaze makes you want to cover yourself up, it’s like he can see every single part of you within that icy glare. You’ve never taken the time to really, truly look at him before but you do now, after all this might be your last chance to look at anything at all.

He isn’t a terrible last sight.

Sure, he’s ominous enough to make you want to try and run despite the ache in your calf right now, but that doesn’t make him any less handsome. In a rugged, weathered sort of way. He’s older than you thought, gray sprinkled throughout the mess of curls framing his face. What a nice face it is. Soft where it needs to be soft, sharp where it needs to be sharp. He marches back over to you, easily taking the pocket knife from your hand and crouching down in front of you.

“Give me one good reason not to finish you off right now.” He points the blade in the direction of your leg. “Seems like it’d be a mercy at this point.”

Maybe he’s right.

Maybe it would be a mercy to just let him put you out of your misery. Why have you been fighting so hard? You can’t seem to recall a reason other than the fact that that’s what you’re supposed to do. Your mind tells you that you’re supposed to keep fighting but you can’t think of a single driving force. You’re in pain, constantly, you live in a world that wants you dead, and you have no one relying on you.

You don’t have a good reason, other than the fact that surviving is all you know how to do. So you look up at him and you nod. Taking in the sight of the pretty, frightening man one last time before closing your eyes.

It feels good. You feel good, for the first time in a long time, knowing that you won’t hurt anymore. You won’t have to be afraid of someone kicking your door in, you won’t have to worry about where your next meal is going to come from, and you won’t have to worry about turning into a monster. It’s a mercy.

So you close your eyes.

Suddenly grateful for the killer before you, your guardian angel, here to deliver you the peace you didn’t know you needed.

You wait patiently for the sting of a blade or the embrace of his hands around your throat but all you're met with is a sigh. When you finally find the courage to open your eyes he’s sitting on the edge of the bed across from you, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Just go.” He grumbles, muttering a few other words you don’t catch.

You’re almost disappointed, having accepted this was the end, and now you’re being shoved back into the cold and unforgiving world. You start to get to your feet but your knees buckle under you. You try again, willing your leg to just work but much to your dismay you can’t even straighten out your leg anymore. When you try to move it all you find yourself only able to bend your knee a few inches.

Shit.

You think of the fall you took on the way in and wonder if you finally pushed yourself to the limit. If you go back to the doctor will he remove the entire thing? Maybe you should just ask Joel to finish the job before it comes to that. It would be a kindness, between a quick death here or a slow death starving in your apartment you’ll take the quick way every time. Before you even have a chance to ask he’s on his feet. Maybe his patience has run out and you won’t have to ask at all.

“Let me.” His voice rattles around in your head, so low and commanding that you put up no resistance as he lifts you up under your arms and sets you down on the edge of the bed where he just was. He flips the knife out, going to cut your jeans off of you but you stop him.

“Wait!” He freezes in place, giving you an impatient look. “These are my only jeans, just- just pull them down.” Before you can realize how embarrassing it might be to show your neighbor your faded pink panties, you're already unbuttoning your pants, lifting your hips up so he can pull them down your legs with a roll of his eyes. It’s painful, the feeling of the denim running against your skin but it’s better than not having any pants at all.

Fuck.

It’s been a while since you’ve actually looked at your leg. You’re surprised he was able to get your jeans off with how swollen it is, the flesh bulging around your ankle and now up your calf. The skin is shiny and blotchy with shades of purple and red. The sight of it makes you want to hurl but you manage to swallow the urge, looking away as he pokes at the tender flesh.

“Christ girl, what the hell did you do?” When he grabs your ankle to lift your leg you yelp in pain, making him set your leg back down instinctively.

“I just- it’s just a broken ankle.” You mumble as he gives you an incredulous look.

“Like hell it is.” Something about the sternness of his voice demands your obedience as you nod. “Wanna tell me what really happened?”

“Well I- I fell and-” You struggle to find an excuse to justify how bad you let this get but you come up empty. So you tell the truth. “I fell off a ladder while painting over graffiti during my shift and broke my ankle. The doctor told me to stay off of it and- well, I couldn’t afford not to work so I just… didn’t” You rush through your words, staring anywhere else but into his demanding gaze as you explain yourself.

“So you turned to stealin’.” He says it like the fact it is and you can only bring yourself to nod. “You need antibiotics.” He says just as matter of factly. “You know how much that sort of thing costs?”

A lot.

More than you’d have even if you were working overtime.

He clears his throat and you finally meet his eyes.

His eyes were so dark that day they threatened to swallow you whole. Were they always that dark? Or was it just that day, the first day, when he realized that he had you.

“Look, I don’t do this kinda thing for just anybody. But I can help you.” He had sounded so kind, his hint of a smile had seemed so promising.

“I can’t afford it-”

“You can use alternative methods to pay me back.”

You told him you’d think about it.

And he hadn’t pushed you, he had simply helped you back into your jeans and carried you back to your apartment. He told you he’d check on you tomorrow and see if you had an answer for him.

So when the next day came and you had a fever and your leg was throbbing, demanding your attention you’d been all too eager to accept his help.

And just like that, it was your idea.

It wasn’t his, he was blameless, you asked him to help you. And it didn’t matter who had suggested it first, it mattered who brought it up after.

You had been certain that when he had told you you’d be using alternative methods to pay him back that his intentions were unsavory. And at that point you didn’t really care, you’d made your peace with that. The medicine you needed wasn’t cheap and you could find worse looking men who didn’t take care of themselves the way Joel did.

But he wanted nothing of the sort.

Southern Manners.

All he wanted was for you to take care of his apartment when he was out with his business partner, a woman who didn’t seem to dislike you but certainly didn’t care for you. He told you to take a week to just rest, take the medicine he brought you, eat the food that he fed you, and be good. So you did as he asked. And after a week you could move a bit more, you started spending your days at Joel’s tidying up and organizing while he was gone, it was much easier to stay off your leg for most of the day and he always made sure there was food and books for you while he was gone. And when he returned he would help you hobble back to your place and help you into bed without complaint and with a promise that he’d be back in the morning.

But you still don’t relax around him.

It doesn’t make sense. Even someone who wasn’t known for their cruelty wouldn’t just take a stranger in. You’d like to believe that there’s good in people but you know better than to have that kind of faith. There isn’t enough left of the world to share the remains. Yet Joel does. He doesn’t ask to know you better and he certainly doesn’t tell you about himself yet he shows you more kindness than anyone else in your life has before.

He must like having someone to take care of.

That’s how you explain it to yourself.

You watch him with Tess and it’s clear who’s in charge there, she barely even lets him stitch her up when she returns to the apartment. Joel gets frustrated every time, huffing and pacing around the room before finding some way to tend to you in her place. Icing your leg, or bringing you a new book to read, or feeding you.

It took a few months for your leg to heal, it had been in such bad shape a part of you worried that it might never be the same as it once was.

After the first month of your arrangement Joel told you his knees hurt and he wouldn’t be able to carry you home, you offered to just walk yourself over, your leg didn’t hurt that bad anymore and you were more than capable of walking short distances. But he insisted you stay, told you you could sleep in the bed and he’d take the couch.

But his knees hurt, you couldn’t let him do that.

And you told him you’d take the couch and he told you he wouldn’t feel right making you sleep on the couch with your leg the way it was.

So you told him you’d both just sleep in the bed. It wasn’t a big deal. You trusted him, of course you did, he had an opportunity to exploit you and he didn’t, if he was going to hurt you he would have done it already.

He had acted unsure.

You know now that it was acting.

So you had insisted. You told him it was okay, you told him you felt safe with him.

It was your idea.

Even though it hadn’t been your idea to stay that night.

You had insisted he get in the bed with you.

A fact that he would bring up often in the months to come.

He would still help you to your apartment some nights, but just as often he’d complain about his knees and you’d stay. You got used to his warmth, you got used to waking up in his arms and not talking about it in the morning.

So it made sense when he told you that you should keep your pajamas at his apartment.

It made sense when he got a toothbrush for you to keep in his bathroom cabinet.

It made sense when he told you that he couldn’t find new clothes in your size and you could just wear his.

It made sense when he told you that he and Tess had never been a thing, so you had no reason to feel weird about sleeping in his bed.

And it made sense when he told you that he’d hold onto the keys to your apartment, afterall you wouldn’t want to lose them.

Joel Miller was a glue trap. And you had waded across his sticky surface without a care in the world, never realizing that it was getting harder and harder to move until you were standing still. Until the only way you were going to escape was by biting off your own leg.

You don’t remember when you stopped returning to your own apartment completely, but you know that it happened early on, before you’d even started chewing.

Now - JACKSON, WYOMING : 2023

“Ruth?” You’re gonna be late if you don’t find her soon. The turntable in the corner of the kitchen plays a 3 Doors Down song as you lift the table cloth, searching for the little girl. “We don’t have time to play, we need to get you to school.” You groan, turning to face the boy currently sitting in a highchair he’s just about grown out of. “Do you know where she is?” You cross your arms in front of your chest, glaring at him as he shrugs.

Of course he isn’t going to tell. They look out for each other before anyone else, a fact that normally fills you with joy but not when they’re ganging up against you. Thankfully you catch his eye as he shoots a glance at the pantry. Pulling the door open you’re quickly met with the sight of Ruth, giggling on the floor. You pick her up, putting her in her own highchair before setting a plate of fruits down in front of her.

“Eat. We don’t have time to play this morning, young lady.” You poke your fork in her direction as you sit down across from them.

“Eat.” She repeats in a mocking tone, her brother erupting into a fit of giggles at the impression as you sigh. They need to be at the community center in half an hour. You make the job schedules on Friday and you need as much time as possible if you want to finish them in one day. You’re having a hard time focusing on the mess your son is making as he smashes each blueberry down onto the table before popping them into his mouth as you try to schedule your own weekend.

You need to finish all of your work today while the kids are gone so you don’t have to juggle watching them and working later, it shouldn’t be too much of an issue, scheduling should only take a few hours if you really zero in on it. You have dinner with Tommy and Maria tomorrow and you promised to bring dessert so you’ll have to take the kids to the market tonight, which also means you’re going to have to find supplies to barter with before you go.

You have nothing planned on Sunday.

You’ll have to change that.

You hate having nothing to do.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts as a blueberry hits you in the forehead. Both twins laugh now as you frown at them.

“Behave or I’ll tell your aunt that you’ve been bad.” Both children look at each other nervously before returning to their breakfast. You were never stern enough with them. You loved them too much, you couldn’t ever bring yourself to yell at them, and it wasn’t like they were troublemakers by any means, they were just kids with a lot of energy in the mornings. And when they did misbehave a small threat of telling Maria was enough to make them stop whatever it was they were doing.

You finish up your own plate and start getting ready to leave as the kids start giggling again to themselves. When their plates are empty you use a wet washcloth to clean their hands and faces before lifting each of them out of their respective seats, letting them run off a bit more energy before you head out. You set all three bags down in front of the door. Yours being the beige over the shoulder bag accompanied by two little backpacks. Ruth’s green canvas bag is covered in mud and other remnants of the yard that she’s brought in with her but Arthur’s purple backpack is kept neat and tidy. You slip into your coat before turning just in time to watch your son dive into the couch, quickly followed by his sister.

“Come on little ducks. Time for school.” You take their jackets off the hook, holding them out to them as they rush over to you, tugging their own coats on before grabbing their bags, once you pull the door open they both rush out into the cool autumn morning, talking to each other in hushed tones. Always secrets with those two. It would probably make you a little worried if these were normal circumstances, the way they don’t let anyone in except each other, with you being the only exception. But the world is a terrifying place, it brings you peace to know that they have each other.

A part of you is certain you wouldn’t have been able to handle just one.

One little person relying on you, all while you’re doing your best to hold it all together? It sounds like a nightmare. It’s better that they have each other. Once you’re standing outside the community center, busy with parents dropping off their children, you kneel down.

“Be good, if you behave today you can go to the market tonight.” The promise of the market has both of them grinning, showing off the teeth they’ve both recently had grow in. “I love you, I’ll see you in a bit.” You hold open your arms, each of them taking their respective sides as they wrap themselves around you. You take your daughter's face in your hands before pressing a kiss to her forehead, repeating the motion with your son. After a few “love you mama’s” they both run into the building, once you’re sure they’re safe inside you head off in the direction of town hall.

You have what you would call the best job in town, despite the fact that no one else seems to want to do it.

Maria understood when you arrived that you needed something that let you work from home if needed, you needed something that kept your mind busy but also gave you time with the kids. So you took care of the parts of Jackson most didn’t think about.

You document all of the citizens, you make the shift schedules, and you make sure everyone has the necessities. You take care of housing, when big hauls from scavenging come in you divide them up among the people who need them. You make the meal schedules for the dining hall, and you make the crop schedules.

You keep Jackson moving.

When you arrived all of this was Maria’s job along with her other duties, when you told her you wanted something engaging and demanding she was more than willing to pass off those duties to you. So now you’ve got to make the schedule. Town hall is nothing more than a house with several desks for people doing work similar to yours but thankfully you’ve been lucky enough to reserve your own office in one of the bedrooms.

Most Friday's Maria visits you for lunch but you know she’s on patrol currently, another perk of this job is knowing where everyone is, all the time.

No surprises.

You hate surprises. (With a few exceptions.)

One of the exceptions is waiting for you in your office, Tommy sits with his legs up on your desk, reading over this past week's schedule.

“You put me on crop harvest way more than anyone else.” He grumbles, tossing your notebook down.

“It’s the end of the season, everyones on crop harvest.” You lean down, kissing his cheek before taking your place across from him, immediately getting to work as he groans.

“Maria gets to go on patrol.”

“Council gets first dibs on patrols during harvest season.” The tip of your favorite pen is dry so you quickly bring it to your mouth, wetting it with your tongue before you start writing out jobs for this upcoming week. The second he sees how many farming related jobs you’re listing he leans back in his chair, groaning and running his fingers through his dark curls.

Today’s his day off. You always gave anyone doing more manual labor three days off instead of two.

“I can get you on one patrol shift but they’re going to need your help with the corn.” You write his name in with the Monday and Tuesday patrol squad, filling in the rest of his week with harvest as he grins.

“Thank you, darlin’.” He drawls. You hate that nickname, you hate that he isn’t the first to give it to you but you never complain, you’d let Tommy get away with murder at this point. It’s the least you can do considering everything he’s given you.

“Yeah yeah, whatever. You’re only getting a two-day weekend next week.” You mumble, searching through the list of citizens, trying to pick out the people you know won’t mind the hard work.

“Fine by me.” You have a complicated relationship with that smile of his. You can love it all you want but that doesn’t change the fact that it makes you uneasy, it doesn’t help that you’re starting to see that same smile in your son.

“I was thinking about berry cobbler for tomorrow night.” Molly twisted her ankle last week, make sure she isn’t standing. You put her down for shucking corn, she can sit in the dining hall and work.

“We have a bunch of extra sweet potatoes if you want to make sweet potato pie.” He takes your crop ledger, flipping through it, clearly not reading a thing.

“Ruth hates sweet potatoes.” Marcus insists he’s capable of doing manual labor, his pride won’t let him act his age. You put him down for pushing the wheelbarrows, he won’t have to bend down to pick anything up but hopefully he’ll still feel like he’s doing enough. You’ve told him countless times that at his age he shouldn’t be working so hard but he always insists.

“Shit, forgot about that. Maria might have some apples.”

“I’ll stop by tonight before I take the kids to the market.”

You’re thankful for Tommy.

He keeps your mind busy with conversation while you work, and he’s one of the only people you actually trust. By the time you’re almost done you know you need to go get the kids, with a conflicted glance at the clock you start to gather your things but Tommy beats you to it.

“I’ll go get them, Maria should be home from patrol soon, she’ll want to see them.” He’s already putting his coat on so you stay seated.

“Are you sure?” You already know there’s no reason to argue, he’s stubborn, just like his brother.

“It’s the least I can do to make up for bothering you all day.” He steps around the desk to give you a peck on the cheek before going to leave. “Just come by the house when you’re done, no rush.” And just like that he’s gone.

You make quick work of your remaining duties. Finishing everything within a half an hour before heading out in the direction of the Miller’s farm house on the edge of town. It’s only a few houses away from your ranch house, a fact that you couldn’t be more grateful for, if it weren’t for Tommy and Maria you aren’t sure you’d have been able to handle those first few months of parenthood. Most people in town assumed Tommy must be the father purely based on how much effort he put into taking care of not only them, but you as well. As you make your way up their porch steps and into the living room you’re also reminded of the similarities. You can’t blame people for making assumptions, even Maria thought he was the father. The twins have his eyes, (which by association means that they also have his eyes, but you try not to dwell on that.) Ruth has your nose but Arthur has that Miller curve already starting to show on his little nose. Both little ones are sitting in the big recliner with their uncle as he tries to get them to settle down while he reads to them but the second they see you, both are scrambling out of the chair to hug your legs.

And everything goes exactly how it’s supposed to.

(Of course it does, you plan every day down to the minute.)

You give Tommy the list of things you need along with a few things he can trade them for and he takes the kids down the street to the market as you sit at the kitchen counter, talking to Maria about her patrol. You had all planned to go to the market together but she’d insisted she was tired and you didn’t want her to be here alone so you stayed, helping her cook dinner. And you talked about all the things you knew you would, something cute the kids did, how her patrol went, what things you could put on the dining hall menu in the coming weeks.

It’s all exactly how it should be.

Until she frowns.

“Are you busy Sunday?” You had sensed something was wrong with her but you assumed maybe she was just a little rattled coming off of a three day patrol.

“No, did you need something?” You continue to chop up the sweet potatoes she now planned to use tonight instead of tomorrow.

“We found a couple of strays, I thought maybe we could get them settled in.”

Odd.

Normally finding survivors would be the first thing she mentioned after returning, even stranger is the fact that she’d often waste no time getting them supplies and a home to make their own. But you're not one to question Maria’s judgment.

“Sure, we can do that Sunday morning.” You want to ask questions about it but she’s already changed the subject to doing a clothing drive at the community center so you don’t press. Despite the way the look on her face is bothering you.

It wasn’t fear, or discomfort, or something you could explain away with the excuse of the strays being off putting or violent.

It’s a look of pity.

As if she feels bad for even asking.

It unsettles you enough to leave it be. Making idle chit chat with her until Tommy returns with the twins and you take them home. It unsettles you as you make your own dinner, as you give the twins a bath, and as you help them into their pajamas and read them a story. It never leaves your mind.

“Goodnight Ruthie.” You lean down to kiss her forehead, watching her eyes flutter shut as she continues to fight sleep. Always the stubborn one.

“Night Mama.” You take the stuffed bear from the foot of her bed, tucking it in beside her before quietly standing, walking across the room to your son's bed.

“Goodnight Arthur.” You lean down, kissing both of his rosy cheeks, he doesn’t fight sleep the way his sister does. So similar but so different.

“Goodnight Mama.” His little voice has the same southern drawl you know he’s been picking up from Tommy.

“I love you, little ducks.” You smile at him, turning to see that Ruth is already asleep, you tuck in the blankets around Arthur before leaving, keeping the door cracked open a bit so the light from the kitchen can act as a night light.

God, you're tired.

You’re quick to shower and slip into your own pajamas, crawling into bed with a yawn. You take the book from your nightstand, flipping through until you find where you left off yesterday.

You never really know what’s going on in the books you read, they serve a singular purpose and it isn’t entertainment.

You read until you fall asleep, they’re just a distraction to keep your mind busy with thoughts so he can’t sneak in right before you fall asleep and embed himself in your dreams.

It works.

Your dreams never feature him.

They aren’t good dreams by any means, they’re wild. Often of your journey to Jackson, the fear you felt then. But you’ll take that over Joel any day. Tonight isn’t any different, your sleep is restless as you fight the memories of fighting for survival in those woods, but instead of your usual nightmares of infected hunting you through the trees you’re faced with a sight that somehow makes you even more uneasy than the living dead.

The look on Maria’s face when she told you about the two strays.

support me on kofi!!

a/n : this fic has been bouncing around in my brain for months now and it feels so fucking good to finally start it omfg. sorry if this felt a little slow, i really needed to set a tone and a base for the story, sorry!!

#lincolndjarin #fic : every now and then #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #tlou joel #joel tlou #joel the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #tlou fic #joel x reader #the last of us fic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction

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youkissedareaderinthedark · 7 months

Text

The Other Ones

Synopsis: During quarantine, F2 driver Y/n L/n takes a page out of the F1 drivers’ book, and convinces her friends to stream with her. It makes 2020 more bearable.

A/N: kinda weird for this one; im gonna use the 2023 F2 grid for a fic set in 2020. i know it doesn’t make sense at all, but I wasn’t into motorsport in 2020, meaning I have barely any idea who the drivers were, so 2023 f2 grid it is. also this is basically a crack fic

. alright basically

. like everyone else in the world during 2020, you were going insane during lock down

. the racing season wasn’t set to start until july, and you hadn’t raced for almost 7 months

. you were stuck in your house, and you loved your parents and everything, but you were crazing interaction with people other than your family

. you were friends with most of the other f2 drivers, and you did talk a lot, but it still wasn’t the same as seeing them in the paddock

. one day during another search on the internet for something entertaining, you found out that a few of the F1 drivers started streaming on Twitch

. and then you got an idea

. you didn’t want to say you copied the older drivers

. except that you totally did

. shamelessly

. you rounded up your closest f2 friends in a group chat, explained your brilliant idea, and a week later found yourself streaming on Twitch

. it took a lot of coordination, starting a streaming channel is a lot harder than it looks, but the results definitely paid off

. your version of the “Twitch Quartet” consists of Fred Vesti, Ollie Bearman, Arthur Leclerc, and of course, yourself

. Arthur was the first to post on his Instagram to promote the stream, and once you all followed, the chaos began

. it started with a game of among us

. it was a lot more intense than anyone realized it would be

. Arthur has trust issues

. you jump at anything that moves

. Ollie is scarily good at lying

. and poor Fred just wants to fix the lights

. “oh my god Arthur this is literally the fourth meeting you’ve called”

. “OLLIE SHUT OFF THE LIGHTS! I SAW HIM“

. “EVEN IF I DID YOU CANT SEE SOMEONE SABOTAGE”

. “you are all ridiculous! now let me go back and fix the turbo engine thing-“

. “y/n stop following me, I promise Ollie is not going to kill you”

. “yeah well that’s what he said last time and then he stabbed me in Comms so-“

. “you are in my way! I am trying to keep us all alive here”

. “I don’t know what you expected me to do. the lights went off and you came into Comms alone, did you really think I wouldn’t kill you?”

. “Arthur I SWEAR-“

. that first stream gains a lot of traction, and before it even ends, you four are getting game recommendations and requests for more content

. fall guys is next the game the catches your attention

. no one but you is surprised that your absolute shit at it

. Fred wins like every round because he’s takes it the most serious

. Ollie and Arthur are screaming, accusing the other of sabotaging and whining once they both lose

. “I DON’T UNDERSTAND I LITERALLY JUMPED BUT THE STUPID THING DIDN’T MOVE I SWEAR I JUMPED-“

. “OLLIE STOP THROWING THINGS AT ME”

. “THIS IS WHAT YOU GET FOR PUSHING ME OFF THE SPINNY THING”

. “fredvesti7 is the winner!”

. “I’M TRYING TO KICK THE BALL! IT WONT LET ME KICK THE BALL I HATE THIS STUPID THING-“

. “HEY! HEY! HE’S PUSHING ME LOOK HE’S TRYING TO PUSH ME OFF THE TILES”

“WELL YOU’RE THE ONE WHO JUMPED ON MY HEXAGON AND MADE ME DIE SO-“

“fredvesti7 is the winner!”

. the most common game you play is sim racing, for obvious reasons

. “Ollie you just pushed me off the track”

. “no I didn’t that was Fred”

. “hey! I’m all the way up here don’t put this on me”

. “Arthur, you better stop swerving or I’m gonna crash into you”

. “haha I won you all suck”

. “yeah because you PUSHED US INTO THE BARRIERS”

. “WELL MAYBE IF YOU STOPPED SWERVING-“

. your personal favorite streams are “f2 after dark” a series of streams that occur usually past midnight

. they originally started when you four were all on facetime at night

. then decided to play a game

. and by the 12am rolled around, you guys were setting up your cameras and mics

. traditionally, you guys play horror games, all ranging from Granny to Phasmophobia, all scream inducing

. “Ollie if you leave me before we walk into the basement I will kill you”

. “oh my god- WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT SOUND”

. “we are so dying”

. “I say we sacrifice Arthur, he’s shouting too much”

. “OH MY GOD IT’S RIGHT THERE”

. “THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT”

. “Ollie why did you push me towards it”

. you guys did try to play uno once

. “OLLIE STOP LOOKING AT MY CARDS”

. “Y/N’S CHEATING”

. “this is NOT HOW WE PLAY UNO IN DENMARK!”

. “I wish we were playing in person SO I COULD THROW THIS STUPID CARD AT YOU”

. “I HATE THIS GAME”

. “IF YOU GIVE ME A PLUS 4 ONE MORE TIME ARTHUR I SWEAR-”

. and then didn’t play again

. eventually, the F1 drivers realize you guys have been streaming on twitch like them

. and come up with an stream idea that you still consider the most fun you’ve had in quarantine

. “hello everybody! this is a very special stream because today, we are collaborating with the F1 drivers in a Mario Kart 8 showdown! We’re doing team mode first, Twitch Quartet vs Us, let’s see how it goes”

. you were originally kind of nervous about this stream

. and they didn’t tell you but you were pretty sure the others were kind of nervous too

. besides the exception of Charles and Arthur, f1 and f2 drivers don’t interact much, so you’ve never really gotten the chance to get to know any of the four

. and now suddenly you were streaming on Twitch in front of thousands of people with them

. very big change

. you didn’t have anything to worry about though, the stream went very well, especially the “every man (or woman) for themselves” round

. “I don’t know why you would chose rainbow road, it’s genuinely the worst track”

. “alright Lando there’s no need for slander”

. “George I am not Alex, do not crash into me”

. “Charles if you push me off this ledge I am locking you out of the house next time”

. “you’ve got to leave the space!”

. “if i have to be stuck behind Ollie for another lap i’m just gonna push him off the map”

. “Fred, you are pushing me off the track again”

" i am not that is y/n!”

. “you’re such a snitch”

. “they’re going wheel to wheel!”

. “George you are not Martin Brundle”

. “Arthur if you break test me one more time, I’m locking YOU out of the house”

. “I’m going to kill you if you keep pushing me into the barriers, Lando”

. “you’ve gOT TO LEAVE THE SPACE”

. “FRED QUIT PUSHING ME OFF THE TRACK”

. " and the winner is….. me. obviously”

. “I don’t know Y/n, I’m pretty sure you cheated somehow”

. “I saID THE WINNER IS ME”

. anyway

. that stream collected the most amount of viewers any of you had ever gotten

. you eight are already talking about another one soon

. the entire streaming idea was a lot of fun

. and you’re very glad you did it

short little blurb that I hate but i posted it because i’ve been kinda interested in f2 recently and decided to make it so why not

also if this looks familiar, it is, I originally posted it a couple weeks ago, decided I hated it, deleted it, and am now posting it again

still hate it though

#reader insert #driver reader #f2 imagine #f2 driver reader #f2 driver imagine #streamer reader #twitch stream fic #platonic f2 x reader #f2 x reader #arthur leclerc #fred vesti #ollie bearman #platonic

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callmewrinkles3 · 1 month

Text

Castles Crumbling - DR3 x Fem!OC

Summary: There's just four races to go until Em never has to be near McLaren again, but her anxiety isn't getting any better. With fractures growing in their friendships and people in the media talking, how could it? Not even a gift from her husband could help.

Words: 15.5k

Warnings: The 2022 F1 season, COTA 2022, mental health issues (anxiety, depression, social anxiety, issues with food, one instance of accidental self injury), Zak Brown opening his mouth, hospitals, mentions of assumed domestic abuse, medical staff, smut.

AN: Remember us? Yeah it's been a while, we know. But we're back! Tumblr is a mess right now and with this we decided to make it worse. Please, please heed the warnings here. This is probably the lowest point Em gets to, and it's not a good place. It’s a hard, complicated one. If it's not something you feel comfortable reading, that's alright. Stay safe out there. See you around. 🫰🏻

October 2022

Em had no idea why she was so nervous the day they got to Texas. There was absolutely no reason to be, they'd had some time off and it had been lovely. Her anxiety kept going up and making her stress which was the last thing she wanted. She was tucked in under Dan's arm, their friends were there, and they were in one of her favourite places in the world. Even if when Dan asked her what she wanted to do on their days off she'd said nothing. She didn't have the energy to do it.

The cancelled Russian GP felt like a miracle, giving them a full three weeks off instead of a week in London and one in Sochi. It was an oasis after the triple header of Spa, Zandvoort, and Monza. As soon as Dan finished media after the Monza curse kicked in they left the circuit. Like the year before they were holding hands, but this time it was anger and misery. He'd been on for points. Good points. And then the car just died under him. Fuck McLaren.

They'd gone straight to their favourite pizza place, getting a smile from the staff when Em ordered in Italian. Even the Tifosi in the restaurant chilled around them. There were nods and smiles, Em returning them when she could. It was there to the hotel for some sleep, and the next morning they had quick goodbyes to everyone before renting a car and driving up to Lake Como.

It was normal for them to have a getaway in Italy after races. It started with the beach trip after their first night together in Monaco, and 2019 was the nights in Milan after two impossible feeling races. But finally, after a quarantine year that cancelled their plans and then Em having to cancel them when Dan won. But finally they got to spend their time together. Dan had promised her that even if he won they were still going.

But the car gave up, so instead they said goodbye to Blake and Micahel for three days away. Em adored them, but she'd spent so much time with them that they weren't her usual safe places. Things with Michael still felt awkward, and time apart just felt right. The three days were spent alone, actually getting to wear their rings while they tanned, ate pizza and pasta, and spent hours making love on any surface they could.

The best part of the three weeks off wasn't sunny Italy, it was going to Perth. Dan had to be at the MTC for two days for sim duty before the double header so they went back to London, but as soon as they could they were on the direct flight from London to Perth to see family. It had only been two months since they'd seen Joe and Grace, but they hadn't seen the rest of the family since the super quick trip they'd made to Perth after they got back together.

All they wanted to do was hug the kids and be home. They just wanted to be uncle Danny and auntie Emmy. Even thought it was winter it was warmer than Em was used to. It was healing being back at the farm. Silence at night, family arriving in the late morning or early afternoons, it was perfect. Either they went to see people or people came back to see them at the farm for a full two weeks.

It helped Em's anxiety lessen, as did the regular therapy sessions. They had one on a Monday evening while Em was in Perth, set for a time where no matter where in the world she was she'd be able to make it. On race weeks she had one on Thursdays too. Plus seeing the constant smile on Dan's face while he was home. That put a smile on hers. If anyone deserved to be happy it was her Danny, and Em would do anything in her power to make sure he was.

The fun days ended all too soon, hugging everyone goodbye and promising to see them in Abu Dhabi for Isaac's birthday before they went back into the swing of things. Singapore and the race wasn't bad, Dan finishing with 10 points. But Japan was awful. Lando barely in front but the team acting like he was on the podium, and the weather and recovery vehicles. Dan had talked to her about Jules once before, about losing one of his best friends as a result of those conditions on that track. Her heart was in her throat as she watched Dan go around and round. It was another weekend watching the man she loved be disappointed at a track he adored, but at least they got to spend a week in London before Texas.

Once they got on the plane to head to the US, Em could feel the nerves building in her. It was different from the - high grade if she was honest - anxiety that she usually had most days. This time there was a reason. Dan was showing her the house he bought them that she still hadn't seen in person.

It had started from 2019 when she was tipsy and half asleep and whispered it while dozing in his arms that Austin would be a nice place to live. Since then he'd been searching, revealing it to her when they were in Montreal. The original plan was an apartment with a balcony and natural light, but getting that in the delivery radius of their favourite barbecue place was nearly impossible. And then between the pandemic and everything it turned into wanting so much more than a one bedroom apartment. Plus hiding it from the woman who he spent almost every waking moment with felt impossible.

He'd signed the papers when she was in Liverpool, a desperate dream that maybe Em would come back to him.

Telling himself it was an investment and worth it even when he wasn’t fully sure it was. He knew in his heart he’d never rent it out but he had to try something. It was a total lie. But then he flew down to Texas before landing in Miami to sign for the house. The original plan had been to show her when she arrived in Miami. Dan’s sick hope that she’d turn up. But then she didn’t and he just kept hoping until she was finally there.

They’d said they’d stop off on the way to Montana, fly an extra few hours so Em could see it. But she was too fragile and exhausted and trying to put her pieces together. Then it was the summer break but the news about losing his job put the kibosh on that. So finally they were in Austin and couldn’t be disturbed and Em was about to see their home.

October had felt like it would be a lifetime away then. It would be autumn and starting to get cooler. But then she was there and they’d landed in Texas, gone through immigration and were in the rental car on the way to their brand new home.

It was scarier than moving into their apartment in London had been. London had been quick, necessity thanks to living in an Airbnb and needing to find somewhere to pick together. There’d been two weeks thanks to Dan between viewing it and getting the keys. But they’d viewed it holding hands, decided what room would be what.

This was different. Dan had picked it out entirely on his own, she’d had no idea. And she’d known about it for five months, desperately wanting to see more than the photos. If Em was honest she’d half thought the photos weren’t right, the oh so normal suburban home with a little garage attached. But as Dan put the car into park in their driveway it hit her. This was their home.

A lot of the time they had similar tastes. Food, music, and clothes were the big ones, they’d match in a lot of ways. When it came to TV and movies and podcasts they had differences, but unless it was one of his UFC podcasts she was usually happy to watch what he wanted, the same way he’d watch what she put on. One of the things they almost always agreed with - except for LA but Em wasn’t going to have a discussion about how ridiculous a full mansion for himself was - was where they lived and how they decorated. They always liked the same places and were interested in the same things when it came to a home. If there was something weird or one of them didn’t like it, the other generally didn’t either. It was how it worked when they’d found the apartment in London, they’d walked in holding hands and just knew.

It’s how Em knew Dan had to have done a good job when he chose somewhere in Austin. If he liked it, she’d like it, and when the car stopped she knew she was right. Her expectations were that it’d be an apartment in a high rise building, but it was in front of a house. A little country style 1960s house, like the stereotypical one you’d see. It was nothing like the ridiculousness in LA or the farm in Perth. It wasn’t even like the place in Italy Dan was looking at for them to have as a wedding present. It was so normal.

A one family home on a suburban Texan street. A couple of houses had lawn signs out, there were kids bikes on the street. It felt idyllic as Em looked at the pale brickwork and dark door. It felt like somewhere they could relax and just be.

“I know we said an apartment, but when I saw here it was perfect. It feels like us.” Dan held up a key on a cowboy hat keychain, the Longhorns orange logo visible.

“I’m not complaining at all, it looks cute. Time to go inside?”

They walked up to the front door holding hands as a smile spread across Em’s face. She wanted to stop and take it all in, but her excitement was too much. She could stand out in the front yard later, right now was for going inside. All she could do was look up at Dan and how peaceful he finally looked. It had been literal years for him and she couldn’t be more grateful that he’d kept holding out hope for them.

Opening the front door of somewhere new was always exciting and this was no different. She slipped the key in the slot and twisted to feel the lock disengage. Em went to push the door open but before she could Dan lifted her into his arms, nudging the door with his knee.

“Dan, what?!”

“Gotta carry the bride over the threshold, right? It’s my job.” She laughed at the grin on his face as he brought them inside, carefully depositing Em back on her feet in the living room so she could fully take it in.

The room was a blank canvas. Wooden floors with lots of windows and light, white walls just waiting for paint and decoration. Somehow he’d gotten a Welcome Home sign put up in front of the fireplace. It was cosy but had enough space for them and friends to be there. The work and effort Dan had put in was making her tear up before she’d even seen anything else. Then when she did turn around and saw the lavender door she actually did shed a tear.

The one thing she’d wanted in life was to paint her front door lavender. She’d seen photos of colourful seaside towns with different brightly painted doors and decided she wanted hers to be lavender. It wasn’t from Friends, as much as people might think. She’d never been a fan of that show really. But there was no possibility she could do it as a kid, and then in her rented apartments it was never going to happen. But Dan had promised her that he’d do it, and he had just for her. She turned to hug him and held onto him until she could get herself together for a moment.

“I told you we’d have it, it was just a matter of time. I know we can’t have the outside in London, but I thought the inside in Austin would work?”

“It’s perfect. You’re perfect. I love it. I love you, Danny.” His arms tightened as she said it, a kiss pushed against Em’s head.

“Love you too. Wait until you see everything else, I think you’ll love it.”

Dan held her hand as they moved through the rest of the house. The kitchen was gorgeous and sitting out on the counter was a set of orange Le Creuset pans that matched the purple set they had in London. It was like her perfect kitchen was right in front of her. The doors to the back garden were there, a deck leading down to grass and it was carefully enclosed. It was safe and beautiful. She wandered outside and looked at the wildflowers growing at the end of it.

She had no idea how she’d gotten so lucky. How did he love her even after everything? After everything she’d done, everything she’d nearly ruined? But Dan loved her with everything and he did all of this for her. It was a home, not just a house, and part of her hated that they wouldn’t really spend enough time of the year here. He’d given her everything, and she didn’t know what she’d do if she didn’t have him.

A quiet sob made her turn around in panic to see a smile on Dan’s face as tears streamed down his cheeks. Her arms wrapped around him, holding onto her husband as he cried. They were both too familiar with tears by this point, and her job was to hold onto him and love him and wait until he was able to speak. These were the overwhelming tears.

“I thought I might never see this place. Especially not with you. I was waiting until you were here to see it in person and I think I’d come to terms that it wasn’t going to happen.” The rawness of his words cut her deeply, Em kissing his jaw as a reminder she was here before she could speak.

“I’m right here, Baby. I’m here. And you’re here with me. We’re together.”

“I know. I know.” Dan kissed her so gently Em thought it could have been a dream until she opened her eyes and looked at him.

“Good…what do you mean you didn’t think you’d see it? You flew out to sign?” He squeezed her and Em knew no matter what he was about to say she was going to worry.

“I did. But I didn’t come here. I signed the contract and hired someone to keep an eye on it and do what I needed. But I couldn’t come here without you. It was for us.”

“You bought an entire house without seeing it?” The disbelief was clear in her voice. Her insane, brilliant, generous husband.

“It was a bad time, don’t judge me.” She never could. Not in a million years. “I wanted to do more things, y’know? I thought about changing the windows out for ones with bigger panels of glass so you have even more light to read, put some screens up so you can open them without bugs. Have some of the flowers out the front under the living room window. Maybe change the roof? The one there is fine but it’s gonna need replacing in a few years. Plus I wanna change the fireplace cause that’s original from the 70s when this was built and I don’t like the tiles. But not without you. Even looking at furniture to buy felt wrong. That’s what you do. You turn the places we live into homes without even thinking about it. Plus, I thought it could be like an anniversary present. Five years ago this week is when I met you for the first time.”

Em settled into Dan’s arms with her head pushed against his neck for an extra moment as she took in what he said. She’d so nearly blown their lives up in April - walked away without so much as a word. But even though she did that he loved her and still believed she’d come back somehow. How could she not be utterly in love with him? She didn’t deserve him but he loved her anyway.

“We turned them into homes. Us. Together. That’s what made them into homes, and it’s what’ll make this into one too. So thanks for waiting for me to do it.” It was a sweet kiss and wiping away the tear tracks from his cheeks as she smiled up at him. They’d turn it into one. She wouldn’t ruin yet another home for them. She couldn’t do that like she had with their first flat. “Show me everywhere else? Please? I wanna see our room.”

The rest of the house was just as perfect. A bathroom with a gloriously big bath for her and Dan to fit, two spare rooms, and finally the master bedroom. It wasn’t stupidly huge, but it was perfect. She could see all the flowers that Dan had gotten planted outside through the window. Em had no idea how he managed to get it done but he did and she’d be forever grateful for it. The other thing he did was get a proper mattress for each bedroom. It wasn’t a full bed yet, there weren’t even sheets, but she could actually lay down. As comfortable as the business class seats were, she just wanted to lie down and stretch. Her sneakers came off in a heartbeat and that was about as quickly as Dan was lying on top of her.

"You like it?" Dan whispered as if to not break a spell. His head was on her shoulder while his arms wrapped around her body to pull her as close as possible.

"The mattress? It's amazing, I wonder how I'm gonna get up again. The house is very nice too." She kissed his forehead while her smile grew even wider. "I love it. I really, really love it. It's absolutely perfect, Love. I still think you're insane, but thank you."

"I'm happy you like it. You know you never need to thank me."

"Really? Cause I think I know a way to thank you and bless this place together."

All Em needed was one kiss on her neck and feeling his grin against her skin to get going. Clothes were thrown off and left on the floor, and the luxury of not sharing a wall with anyone else was perfection. The loud moan as Dan finally entered her with one slow push echoed around the near empty room.

Usually on race weekends she was careful to not mark Dan's neck or scratch his back or shoulders. Usually she'd do her best to leave no marks at all unless it was a break but that day she couldn't care less. Her hands were all over his back and holding him as hard as possible. Part of her brain screamed at her that she was fucking everything up and she needed to stop, but Dan's frown as she went to let go and the way he squeezed her made her continue. If he was prepared for any comments and wanted her to keep going then she was going to.

At least now people knew that she was the one responsible for anything. She sucked a small dark mark against his collarbone, watching as the skin reddened and bloomed. She didn't care about it in the moment. The next day she probably would when his shirt moved the wrong way and everyone saw it but right then she couldn't care less. For once her head was quiet, focusing about how warm her Danny was against her, the way his hands made her feel so good. How he was hitting the perfect spots in her, the whispers of how good she was and how she was his best girl, his only girl. The marks he was leaving against her that screamed she was his. His, his, his.

When they finished it was like magic. Like every time he held her tight and kissed as they came down from their highs, the two of them keeping the other there. It was one of her favourite moments with him since that very first time they'd slept together. The world stopped for a few moments, silent and the only people who mattered were them. When she opened her eyes Dan was there, that smile that made her fall head over heels all those years ago on his face as he stole a kiss and made her smile against his lips.

Years ago the next thing in their routine had been one of them - usually Dan - asking to stay the night even when they shouldn't. That part of their routine was long gone. But the comfort and cosiness of the moment was ruined by Em's "oh shit!" and running to the bathroom, too afraid to mess up the brand new mattress that didn't even have sheets on it. The only thing there to clean up was Dan's shirt and she wasn't doing that to him.

When she came back feeling better Dan still kissed down her legs to make her giggle, Em looking at him smiling up at her. She ran her fingers through his curls as she looked down at the love of her life. How did she get so lucky? She didn't deserve him.

It took everything to get up from that mattress. She was jetlagged and tired and wanted to stay there and fall asleep beside him. She was comfortable and didn't want to leave. But they had things to do, shopping first on the list. If they were staying there for a night before moving to the team hotel they needed basic stuff. Dan insisted they didn't need sheets for the mattress, they had toilet paper and paper cups for their celebration and could get takeout. Even while Dan was trying to say nonsense Em was rolling her eyes and pulling clothes out of one of their cases to put on. She made Dan do the same, even as he insisted she looked better without clothes on.

"Do you really want me to go to Target naked, Love?" The wide eyes and rapidly shaking head was all that Em needed for him to get up and shimmy his jeans on.

For most couples a trip to the supermarket was a normal thing. But they weren't a normal couple, or at least not that normal. Usually groceries were delivered, and the occasional times they did something like this was during the winter break in Perth. They'd go some weekday morning when it was quiet and people didn't notice them. She loved it though. It was like going out with an excitable kid who looked at everything and kept stopping. She got to hold his hand and be normal for rare occasions.

So that afternoon it was a rare opportunity for Em to drag him around. It took a pout to convince him it was a good idea, but an oak milk latte from the Starbucks before they started shopping was all the extra incentive he needed to keep going. But as they started wandering Dan was the one who kept stopping and looking. He wanted the perfect glasses, Em got distracted looking at lipsticks for a new perfect pink. Then they spent time deciding on towels and bedding for not just their room but the spares too. After all that a coffee maker and mugs had to be bought, along with the matching plates and bowls. All of that, plus a lamp, cushions, a fake plant, fairy lights, candles, and groceries for that night and the morning that could be frozen when they were leaving ended up in the trunk of the rental car. Em couldn't stop grinning the entire drive back to their house.

London was a mix of things they'd had in both of their apartments, choosing what they preferred and putting them together with new things when they really needed them. Perth, Monaco, and LA were kind of like that, Em turning professionally interior decorated places into actual homes instead of places where they just spent time. But Austin was different. It was a blank canvass where she could start from scratch and turn it into colour and home and happiness. Even if this trip was just a few things to make it better she could take time and decide what they were going to do.

She barely got to put the sheets on the mattress before Dan was dragging her back down, covering her in kisses. It had been since the summer break when they felt like this, able to hold and love each other and Em able to shut her brain up enough to enjoy it. Thye spent the afternoon and evening moving from bed to couch and back again, ordering takeout from the restaurant Dan made sure they were near, before returning to loving each other. Dan held onto her as they fell asleep, Em content and cuddled in.

The next day was when they were supposed to move to the hotel but neither of them really wanted to. The boys landed and they met with them, checking in, but deciding to spend that night in their home before having to go back to the F1 circus. Instead they spent it with Michael and Blake, Em watching the three of them laughing and joking. It was easier to stay a little on the outside of it all and watch, Dan's hand around her waist as they sat in their favourite bar in Austin yet again eating barbecue and Em drinking a coke and stealing sips from Dan's one beer before the race weekend.

Getting out of their uber and being completely alone once the front door closed was a luxury for Em. They were always surrounded by people, she knew that. Dan loved having family and friends around, loved being with everyone. She'd known that since the beginning. It was one of the reasons - besides the obvious - why she was around the boys so much. Dan loved to bring his people around and Em loved watching him be happy and glowing no matter how loud it was. Usually she could put her earplugs in and smile and it was fine. But at the track and in offices and media centres it was more of the same. There were always people, Dan was always busy.

She'd known from the beginning that Dan wasn't always hers. She had to share the man she loved with the rest of the world. And she knew this, she married him knowing it, but it was hard sometimes. She'd gone in with eyes open that especially during race weeks it was a good week to have a couple of hours alone together. The only thing she asked was that they went to bed together. She'd stay up as long as she had to to do it with him. She always fell asleep with her head on his shoulder and her hand on his chest. Dan always woke her up with a kiss on her forehead if he had to get up before her as a quiet goodbye and a heads up she'd fully wake alone. It was what they did. So one extra night where they got to wake up completely alone felt nearly perfect.

But some nights, even when they were alone, she could tell Dan's head was somewhere else. This was one of those nights. They were curled up to sleep, arms around each other, but Em could see that his eyes were open and his jaw was tense. Even with the way the last few days were nice it wasn't an easy time. Everything seemed to be slowly crumbling around them. Apart from their relationship it seemed like so much was falling apart and it was impossible. She was doing everything she could to keep the man she loved going but Em didn't have much left to give. There were some things she couldn't fix. She couldn't magic up a seat in a team for him no matter how badly she wished she could do it. She couldn't even negotiate with him, because that wasn't her job. Doing it for the McLaren severance was different, that was for their pride and to prove that team hadn't ruined them. It was personal. But talking to other team principals? She couldn't.

The one thing she could do was reach up and push a kiss to his jaw, watching as he looked down at her with sad eyes. She could ask the questions and support him and love him and give him advice.

"Penny for them?" It was quiet until Dan took a deep breath.

"Should I talk to Haas? Guenther sent over a proposal. It's a seat for n-"

"Absolutely not." The vehemence that she came out with worried even her but she kept talking. "That team ruins people and makes them miserable, and as much as Guenther has been decent to me in the paddock they're run ridiculously. Look at what's happening to Mick, he told Mick last week that he might keep the seat but now you're being offered it? They won't listen to you, they won't care about the setup. They'll mess it up and blame you. They did it to Kevin and then begged him to go back. You deserve better than it."

"It might be the only way for me to have a seat next year."

"I'd rather we call it a day and just go home." Em was blinking back tears as Dan held her closer, watching as she got herself together. "I can't spend another year watching you suffer for a team and their stupid car while you're trying to smile. This year has been so hard, Danny. You deserve better than that. You're so much better than that."

"Do you really want that? Do you want to go home?" The words echoed around her head. Home. She still didn't know what it was. Dan was her home, but she couldn't say anywhere really was anymore. But her tears began to fall and she couldn't stop them.

"We lost too much this year, Danny. We lost a baby. We nearly lost us too. We did lose us for a while and we nearly didn't make it back. I don't have anything else to give it. This sport and this team has taken almost everything. It even took my dignity in Spa. We've given it everything. Baby I love you with my whole heart and you know I will do anything for you. You know that." She took a deep breath as she tried to get the courage to ask.

"I know, Baby girl. I know. And I love you just as much. We're us, that's not changing ever." His words and the warm arms around her made her able to say it.

"You can't ask me to watch you go through another year like this one. You can't do that to me. We can't go through another year like this and you know we can't. If we try it's going to break us. Please. If you love me just...please don't. Be a reserve driver or try something else or any other driving, I'd rather watch you do ovals. Please don't make me have to go through watching you suffer like this again."

She broke down after speaking, feeling Dan hold her even tighter than he had before. She'd never said it. She never wanted to tell him not to drive, she adored him and trusted him to do the right thing. But this was terrifying to watch. She didn't know what she could do except ask him not to drive for once.

"Hey Baby, I've got you. It's alright, Emmy. It's alright. It's going to be fine, Baby girl. I promise. You just take deep breaths. Breathe in with me Baby." She followed his exaggerated breathing until she'd calmed down from the panic attack she'd nearly worked herself into yet again. Her fucking brain. She needed to be calm for this.

"I'm so tired, Dan. I'm exhausted and I don't know if I can deal with another year at a team that won't respect you. This year was too much. I can't lose you again. Please don't make me lose you again."

"It won't happen, Emmy. I swear it's not going to. I'm gonna be right here."

"It happened twice."

And that was her fear. They'd basically lost each other last Christmas, and what should have been the final nail in the coffin was Melbourne. They shouldn't be together. They'd fought for so long, they'd promised each other. But she didn't know if she could fight for another year to try not lose him.

"That was different and you didn't lose me. I fucked up but we're right here. Remember that forever promise we made?" He kissed her ring finger, Em smiling through her tears.

"I almost did and it felt like I couldn't breathe. I can't go through it again. Call me selfish but I just can't."

"You're not selfish. You're the exact opposite of selfish, Babe." The pain in Dan's voice made Em feel even worse than she did saying it.

"I feel like I am. I know how much you love racing."

"But I love you more." He punctuated his words with a kiss before continuing. "I'm chasing loving racing again, and I've stopped loving it now. Maybe it's time to let it come back to me. If it works I can try get a seat in 2024. If not I've got you, and we can work it out from there. I can be a househusband. I was thinking about it, y'know? Maybe it's time for me to be a househusband, you get your year. I'll stay home, make breakfast, do laundry, all that. You deserve a year of not doing anything after taking care of everything I've thrown at you."

"You and I both know you'd go insane if you did that. It'd be fun for a week." A watery giggle escaped, Dan smiling at her ability to laugh.

"Maybe two? But it can be your year. I want you to be happy, not just following me around the world while I'm doing it."

"All I wanna do is be with you. I just...I want you to be my Danny for a while. I don't want to have to share you with the world for once. What I really need right now is to wake up on a weekend and not go anywhere. I want us to stay in our bed, not in a hotel unless we're on holiday. I hate myself for being this selfish and asking you, but I need this."

"A weekend in bed not going anywhere sounds really good right now." Dan kissed her nose, brushing the hair out of her face to make sure Em was looking at him. "I'm telling you, you're not selfish."

"I feel like I am. I feel like I'm making a decision for everyone. Michael's gonna need a new job, it's a mess."

"I was thinking about telling him I think it's better for our friendship to not work together so that'll be fine. Jack's looking for someone for F2 next year, that might work. But you're not making a decision for everyone, you're telling me how you feel. I told you before. If you asked I'd walk away. We deserve to be happy. You deserve that."

"I love you." She held onto him tightly, desperate to make it clear how much she loved him. She didn't deserve Daniel. Not at all. Somehow he loved her even though she'd made a mess of so much. "It's just one year. Then we can go back. You can keep racing till your forties if you want like Fernando. I don't care if you do."

"You really think I want to race that long? Two or three babies and racing around the world for twenty something weeks a year?"

"Seb is. For now." She wasn't looking forward to saying goodbye to someone who'd always been kind to her.

"Yeah, but I don't think I'll be able to do that after our kids start school. There's a difference between Switzerland and Perth."

"If you want to do it the option will be there. As long as you want to keep racing and you're happy you know I'll support you. We can work around anything else." Em snuggled into him at his words, at the knowledge. He wasn't lying. They'd be happy. She'd make herself be happy.

"We can talk about it then. But Toto and Christian have already been in contact about a reserve role. Christian rang before I even did the video. But I'm focusing on you and me first."

"Thank you," Em breathed out.

"For what?"

"For being you. I just wanna be your girl. I wanna be your girlfriend in public and nothing else. I...I need to be your girl for more than a week, not your assistant. I love my job and I love working but I need this. I need to not think about the fact that I share you with the world for a weekend. I know it's a lot to ask but I need that. Just one year. Can you give me a year?" She felt awful asking, but they were there together. She knew he wouldn't feel bad about her asking.

"With one condition."

"Anything you want."

"Marry me. I'll take a year off as long as you marry me."

"Did you hit your head or something? Want to do it again?"

"We said we were going to do it properly, right? I'd propose and we'd have a wedding with our family and that's what I want for us. A year off and we can plan our wedding. Go wherever we want for our honeymoon. No schedule, no fitting it into a two week gap and a honeymoon over the summer break. Just us and the people we care about. So marry me, Emmy?"

"Yeah. This sounds perfect." She kissed her husband, grinning against him as he held her left hand and kissed the perfect engagement ring he'd given her in August when she'd proposed in LA. Getting to do this their way was more important to them than revealing anything else. It felt right.

The next morning when Blake came over for breakfast before the three of them went to the hotel they spoke to him about their decision. It was easier than Em expected it to be, Blake agreeing with both of them entirely. Dan was burnt out, Em was a mess of a human, they were shadows of who they were just a year before. It made sense.

He didn't admit it, but Em knew Blake was exhausted too. He'd been carrying her and Dan for the last six months on his own, a year away from all of their travelling and chaos would be good for him too. They could recharge and focus and next year Blake could start putting feelers out about potential seats.

The other thing they agreed was Em was taking a leave of absence from work. She hated it. She hated feeling like she couldn't do her job. But she needed to look after herself and both of her boys agreed. As soon as Dan said it she knew he was right, nodding and hugging him. At least they got to tell Blake about planning the wedding, and the hug her big brother gave her was worth everything.

Once they got to the hotel it became the normal race weekend whirlwind. Dan was in media and strategy meetings while Em stayed in her hotel room, Criminal Minds on tv while she smiled at her ring and took down little notes about the wedding they wanted. Blake was there showing her the progress he'd made on hiring the horse for Dan's grand entrance to COTA the following day. Her idiot was actually attending press day on a horse. It was entirely Blake's fault for encouraging it months ago.

When Dan got back they facetimed his parents to give them the news, Em crying as Joe said he was happy to finally get to properly call her their daughter now. It was a good day. She was taking the good day.

The only downside to arriving to the circuit was firstly that she couldn't hold Dan's hand because of the horse, and secondly having to hide her engagement ring. She didn't want to take it off, but it was an unspoken agreement that they weren't telling anyone outside their people until after the season was over. They didn't want McLaren using it for media. She didn't want an instagram post from anyone who was firing her husband congratulating the happy couple. She didn't want that orange team involved in her personal life, so the announcement could wait. The nice part was getting to pet the horse Dan was riding. Before Bluey was saddled up she got to brush him down under his groom's careful eye, and afterwards she brushed him and gave him an apple as a treat. It felt like back in Montana, brushing the horses there and her anxiety disappearing for a gorgeous few moments.

Once that was done she didn't have much to do for the afternoon. Blake was officially taking over what she'd been doing, following Dan from meeting to meeting instead of Em. To avoid even more rumours and speculation she wandered the paddock every hour or so with her iPad in hand, chatting to people she knew and acting like it was normal.

It was a weird relief that not working was a help. She still had her therapy sessions with Mildred every Monday - plus a Thursday one before most race weeks - still had her every two weeks psychiatrist appointments to talk about her medication levels, but it felt like it wasn't working. She felt like she was jumping out of her skin, anxiety a constant in her head. A decent part of her wished she could stay in their hotel rooms on any given weekend, but she had to be there for Dan.

Her weekends were most comfortable when she went from the entrance to Dan's room and back again. Nobody bothered her in there, she hid away while her friends and husband were busy, and she felt awkward sitting in hospitality with people looking at her like she was a dead woman walking. So instead she lay along the massage table pinning things to a pinterest board to start wedding planning. Her plan was to show Dan what she liked and they could decide after.

Between taking notes about not wanting designated seats so it could be a mix of people and looking at flower options she dozed off where she lay. Sleep was at a premium for Em on race weekends, but having something nice to think about helped her doze.

She woke up to Dan's kisses against her forehead, not even opening her eyes but reaching out for Dan to squeeze her hand. It was a quick murmur that he'd be back soon, he just had one more meeting and then they could go. Before she knew it Dan was back, helping her stand and fixing her hair so she didn't look like she'd spent the last hour sleeping. They walked out of the paddock hand in hand, ready for the hotel and to curl up in bed together.

"I wish we could just stay in our house instead of here," Em whispered as she looked out the window to the city view in front of them. It was gorgeous, the room was luxurious. But she wanted their house with the mattress that they didn't even have a bed frame for yet. Dan stood behind her, Em resting her back against his front. She could relax and let her anxiety float away for the next few hours until they had to get up and do it the next day and the next and the next, before the brief reprieve before Mexico.

"Saturday night after Blake's birthday dinner? And next time we're here we can stay there full time."

"That sounds perfect."

Waking up on Friday morning was nearly impossible. The universe knew Em wasn't an early bird, but she felt absolutely drained. She didn't want to think about it, but something was wrong with her. She knew when it took Dan shaking her shoulder to wake her up. Usually kisses against her forehead would wake her but the last week or so it had been harder and harder to wake herself up and move more. The kisses were still there but not enough.

"Morning Baby, hey. Sleep well? I've been trying to wake you for a few minutes." Dan was smiling at her as she blinked blearily at him.

"Jetlag? Mornin'. Do we have five more minutes?"

"We're down to ten, but we've got time." He always woke her a little bit early before they actually had to get up. Usually it was fifteen minutes but she'd burned through that time already.

"Mmm, thank you."

It was quiet for a moment before Dan spoke again. "When's your next blood test for?"

She'd been getting them semi regularly since the first doctor's appointment when she came back, the realisation that her iron and calcium levels were low not helping her mental health. The supplements were helping, but the exhaustion remained.

"Before Christmas? I think?"

"Want me to make a doctor's appointment for after Mexico? I can call when they're open on Monday for you. You're sleeping a lot, I just wanna make sure your iron didn't drop or anything. You haven't really been eating much."

She'd been exhausted and barely eating. Part of it was just not being hungry, part of it was nothing was appetising. Even her usual foods that would always make her want to eat weren't it. Even the snack plates that she'd usually pick at weren't worth it.

"Yeah, ok. Just...don't tell Michael? I don't wanna hear about it from him. I don't want more supplement ideas and stuff."

"I won't even think about it."

She went to move to get up but didn't, too comfy there. "'m sorry 'm so tired. It's just been exhausting the last few weeks."

"We'll go home after Mexico and find out. Maybe you just need a med tweak. Or we can go see a doctor here. Go to a clinic, get an iron test to see if it's something to do with that?"

"Nah, we can wait till we're back. Extra naps will work?"

"You'll be all good, Love. I've got you."

Em didn't want to get out of the bed when she was warm, comfortable, and safe in bed with her husband. She didn't want to go to the paddock, and she definitely didn't want to sit in the orange decorated building while the rest of the team just waited for Dan to fail. Again.

But she didn't have a choice, so she got up and got dressed to go stand beside him. Her makeup hid the circles under her eyes, her hair was pulled back, and her outfit was perfect. She could do this. She could absolutely do this. Before they left the hotel room Dan gave her a hug and the sweetest kiss to make her smile.

They held hands for every second they could going through the paddock. All the way down to the car, on the drive in, and walking through the paddock. Dan held her hand proudly as they went in, getting her to go through the barrier first before following her in and taking her hand again.

Em didn't want to be at the track so early, especially when Dan wasn't even driving for FP1. Palou was in Dan's car for it as a rookie driver test, and while she had nothing against Alex she didn't want to watch him. She didn't care about motorsport. It had taken her years of trying to be interested but she didn't care. She cared about Dan driving and that was it. So instead she stayed in Dan's tiny room in hospitality, reading her kindle. The second the interviews and press conferences were done she switched the tv off and kept reading. Her friends were working and getting Dan ready for the rest of the day but she stayed there.

The nice part was that between chapters and looking at pinterest on her iPad for wedding ideas Dan would come upstairs for the briefest hug. He always came with tea and a smile, a quick kiss and a "miss you". He could go back knowing she was fine there.

"You need to go back to work, you're in the car in twenty minutes," Em told him as he dawdled going back downstairs once he was in his orange race suit.

"What if I don't wanna? I wanna stay here with you." She put her kindle away and stood up to take his hand, ready to go stand in the garage to watch him for the hour.

"I could kidnap you and we can go home? Nobody knows where our house is, we can hide there maybe?"

"Is it kidnapping if I'm your husband?"

"I mean not if you go willingly." Dan laughed and his loud honk made her smile. He was there with her and it was worth it.

"You gonna stay here or wanna come down to the garage with Blake?"

"Garage. You know I'm not gonna miss you in the car, no matter what."

"If you need anything just head out, ok? I'll find you after. Just tell Blake."

"I'll be fine, don't worry." She leaned up to kiss his cheek and watched as Dan smiled at her.

"I always worry. Same way you worry about me. It's what we do."

They were about to walk out when Em pulled him back for a moment, watching as Dan looked at her. "I know weekends at your room here used to be more fun and sexy and great. I...I'm sorry it's not like that anymore. Now it's just a mess and yeah. I wish it was like we used to be. I'm just boring now."

"Baby girl, we're married and in our thirties. We're supposed to be boring."

"I'm being serious."

"I know you are." She looked away but Dan's fingers cupped her chin, pulling her up to look at him. "Look at me Emmy. You are the smartest, funniest, most interesting person in the universe. You're my favourite person. You're my wife and I love you. I don't care if we just sit in silence doing nothing for a week. As long as I'm with you I'm happy and having fun. Nobody does it like us. right?"

"Right. And I love you too. Forever and always."

"And to the moon and to Saturn. Let's go and it's one more driving session to the end of the year."

She walked down holding his hand, kissing his helmet and telling him to go fast and be safe before taking her spot beside Blake. Her headphones went on and she stood there holding Blake's hand as they watched the time tick down.

The worst part of the sessions was having to hide her anxiety, the cameras flashing to her and her name appearing on TV. Emma Smyth, Daniel Ricciardo's partner. It still felt surreal that the world knew it. It was pure anxiety as she stood waiting, taking slow deep breaths as Blake squeezed her hand. It was one more hour until she could hide away again.

She hated seeing him in that car. She'd always trusted the cars he drove, always trusted the teams he had. But not anymore. And it was hard because she knew he didn't trust it either. She hated living with the feeling that he didn't trust the car to perform the same way lap after lap. The feeling kept growing in her chest until he was finally wheeled back in when practice ended. He sent her a wink as he got out of the car, Em's smile returning seeing him there safe. If he could have Dan would have given her a hug but he was immediately surrounded by engineers to give feedback to.

By the time Dan was free to leave the circuit it was nearly dark outside. The debriefing took time, and then he had to do partnership stuff that took longer than expected. For this time she decided to be brave and go into hospitality, sitting beside Blake. He kept her distracted by asking questions about things that he really didn't need to ask. For years they'd worked beside each other and it felt totally normal, and even now she wasn't working it felt normal and looked normal. She didn't know what she'd do without him.

Saturday was a day when she had to put her bravest face on because it was Blake's birthday. Despite another day of not wanting to leave the hotel room she got dressed and smiled, following Dan to their best friend's hotel room to give him a giant hug and the presents they'd gotten for him. Her big brother gave her a hug in return, a whispered thank you more than enough for her. She had to hold on for Blake's day. Had to.

She spent practice and qualifying in the garage, holding Blake's hand as usual when they watched Dan get into the car. It had been a happy week in one of their favourite cities, her rings hanging around her neck as she looked on. But instead she watched as the man she loved got out of the car frustrated after Q1, qualifying seventeenth. This stupid team and this stupid car and she had to keep herself together because she didn't want cameras on her.

Dan coming over to say sorry to Blake because he wanted to make his friend proud but didn't broke her heart. It was all Dan ever wanted to do, to make his wife, his friends, his family happy and proud of him. She knew he was aware of the sacrifices people had made to help him, and he was determined to make it worth it. But for nearly all of this two year stint at McLaren it hadn't worked. She'd watched him try. But yet again he was putting a brave face on and a fake smile about how he was going to make up places on Sunday.

She watched him blame himself yet again in front of the media and the world and Em wanted to whisk him away. She wanted to make it all better. He deserved more. She'd seen it with her own eyes, she'd been there when he'd won races. He'd never won them easily. All she wanted was to take him away from the stress and the constant criticism. But she couldn't.

As soon as they were finally alone - after Dan had done media and cooled down with Michael, finally entering his room where Em was waiting. Her arms went straight around him, holding tightly so he could know she was there.

"I'm sorry, Baby. I thought I could get into Q2 for Blake and for you. Make this weekend good for us." She looked up at Dan, trying to keep herself from falling apart.

"It's already a good weekend. You did everything you could, Baby. I don't blame you." Dan just held her tighter, doing everything to keep it together for a few more moments. But then he had to go back to the debrief while Em packed their stuff up. The hotel restaurant was booked for that evening for Blake's birthday. Just the four of them, a chill evening before some of Blake's friends from other teams went to a booking they had in a barbecue place after the race on Sunday. Part of her wished it was just the three of them, pushing that thought away from her head. She loved Michael. She did. He was just difficult to be around lately.

In a shocking turn of events Dan's debriefing didn't take as long as expected. But even with his performance there were fans there to ask for autographs and photos. Em soaked in the love everyone else had for him as he got to glow. Even with that delay they were in the hotel slightly earlier than expected and going straight to their room to get ready.

"We don't have time for a bath, right?" Dan asked, Em kissing his cheek.

"No Baby. We have to be downstairs in half an hour. You have time for a quick shower if you want one."

"Will you come with me? Please?"

It took nothing for Em to agree to go with him, walking into the bathroom and helping Dan to undress as she got her own clothes off. Dan set the shower up while Em stepped in, feeling his arms around her as he got under the showerhead too.

"Can we have a bath tomorrow when we go home?"

"That's the best plan I've heard all week."

Em wanted to spend more time than they had there, trying to get Dan to relax. But instead she carefully washed and conditioned his hair, giving them the love Dan didn't in a normal shower. He did the same for her hair, the apple scent of her shampoo filling the steamy room. Ten minutes wasn't nearly enough but they were out, Dan pushing a kiss to the 3 tattoo on her wrist before he let her go.

Five minutes later Em was nearly ready, just running the hairdryer over her so the wet strands didn't dampen her clothes. Once it was mostly dry she was happy, taking Dan's hand to go back downstairs.

Blake and Michael had arrived before the two of them, Em catching the tail end of their whispered conversation with "-my night out, don't do that." all she could hear. As soon as they realised they were there the two men stepped apart as Blake greeted them.

She knew it was serious when Michael didn't make comments about what Dan should order thanks to his race weekend diet. It was even weirder when he didn't say anything about what Em should eat, or how much, or how she should avoid certain foods. She may have been exhausted but she knew it was Blake. The tail end of their conversation was the only evidence she needed to know he'd said something about keeping suggestions quiet.

Em hated to admit it, but it was glorious. She got to watch Dan eat an actual meal that he enjoyed and she was even hungry for the first time in a while. Finishing the whole plate was a challenge but she ate slowly, sipping her drink and putting her fork down when it was finished. The fond look on Dan's face was everything.

The three others at the table looked at her surprised when Em nodded and took a dessert menu. Michael wasn't having one and she didn't want Blake to have his birthday dessert alone. It was easy to pick a strawberry and apple crumble and ask for a second spoon. She ate it carefully in layers, smiling as Dan took a couple of spoonfuls of fruit and left the icecream for her. She ignored the looks Michael gave them as they shared, the plain green tea sat in front of him telling her everything she needed to know.

It was an early night by birthday celebration standards but with the race the next morning they didn't have a choice. It was a hug for Blake and a promise that tomorrow night would involve drinks and dancing and fun. She'd get through it for him, he deserved it.

As soon as the door to their hotel room closed and the latch went on their clothes disappeared to go to bed. The way Dan's arm had been around her waist was all Em needed to know that her husband needed her extra close that night. It was a quick trip to the bathroom to wash their faces and get themselves ready as Em pushed kisses across his face before dragging him to bed.

She really didn't think anything would happen between them, just holding each other and goodnight kisses. Dan had to get sleep before the race, but then his lips moved down her jaw and to her neck, one hand on her ass pulling her in as his knee slipped between her thighs. It was like a flame was lit in her, she needed her husband. She needed to feel him as close as possible. She needed to hear him whisper her name like a prayer, hands holding her tightly and leaving the fingertip bruises that sang she was his and nobody else's to the world. It was electric and everything she could have asked for, groaning Dan's name out as he begged her to tell him everything he made her feel.

Dan helped her up and helped her clean before she went back to bed with him, wrapped up in his arms to sleep. For once on a race night she was able to actually get asleep at a reasonable time, the lub-dub of Dan's heartbeat steady under her ear.

Getting up on race morning was the worst feeling. Em wished she could have stayed in bed. Staying there with a bottle of wine - even if she wasn't meant to be drinking because of her medication - hot water for her favourite tea, some snacks, the latest crappy romance series she was reading on her kindle, and maybe ice cream as she curled up beside Dan in bed would have been the best day. Instead she had to go to a paddock filled with people who wanted photos and autographs from Dan.

If she had her choice she'd stay back in the hotel with her favourite people but she couldn't. She had to make herself look presentable because cameras didn't lie, and she didn't need another "concerned" instagram commenter asking about if she was ok because of a photo where she didn't look perfect. Dan didn't care if her hair was a mess or if she wasn't wearing makeup or if she was in casual clothes, but the world did. So she forced herself up and prettied herself and was ready to leave. It took a deep breath as she held Dan's hand and walked out of the bubble of their hotel room. They were going to their house that night. She could make it work.

The entire drive to the circuit was cuddling under Dan's arm. Holding his hand on the backseat wasn't enough for her. She needed Dan to hold her until they got there and had to let go, and he never ever complained about it.

It was another morning of faking smiles in front of everyone, cameras recording and fans taking photos and calling Dan's name. She'd put her earplugs in before they even reached the circuit to block some of the noise but it didn't fully help. She focused on Dan's warm hand in hers and took deep breaths to keep herself calm. Em ignored the cameras and photographers watching them, instead looking at her husband and at Blake to remind herself she wasn't alone. She focused on Dan's fingers squeezing her hand. He'd promised not to let her go and he wouldn't.

Once she settled down in his driver's room he kissed her goodbye to go to the different race morning duties he had, making sure she was ok. Dan promised to see her as soon as he could and Em sat there and breathed deeply, earplugs replaced with her Beats to match Dan's and music playing. A couple more hours and they were out of there. Dan just had to go around the track and then they were free to go home. Back to their actual house to get changed and celebrate Blake, and go back to sleep on that mattress she'd already fallen in love with.

Dan came back up to get changed, Em standing up to go back to the garage with him. He'd taken the time to come up and give them enough time to see each other and make her feel better before facing the cameras. Usually he was surrounded by Blake and Michael before getting ready but this time it was just the two of them in a moment alone.

When he pulled his shirt off he took the necklace he was wearing off too, handing his rings over to Em to keep safe. She watched him get into the nomex and saw just how slim he was getting. Let the year end. Just let it end. As he stood and stretched he held out his right hand, Em taking it with her left. Just like they had in Baku and Montreal already this year they were going to the garage together. He was walking through the paddock holding her hand and not caring what the world thought. Reason one million why Em loved him.

"Ready to go?" She thought she'd hidden how she was feeling but it was clear from Dan's reaction that she hadn't really.

"You know, right?" Em whispered in response to avoid his question with the one she knew the answer to. They'd tattooed it to keep it front of mind.

"I know, Baby Girl. I love you too." Dan nodded and raised their joined hands to kiss her ring finger. Like always her wedding and engagement ring were on her necklace hiding below her shirt, Dan's joining them for safe keeping for the race. He'd be allowed wear it but that meant publicity and neither of them wanted that.

"Good. Go fast, be safe, and come back to me. Please." She nearly got it out without the final word but Em couldn't help herself, looking up at Dan and trying not to cry. Please be safe. Please come home. She was panicking more and more about what he did.

"I always will."

It was one final kiss and a long hug before they left the room. Blake was standing outside the door waiting for them, clearing a path through the crowd to get them into the garage and away from prying eyes and just where the tv cameras could catch her but nobody else. It was clear he didn't want to leave where she stood, but one nod from their best friend and Dan kissed her on the forehead and went to get into the car.

Em wished he never did.

Qualifying was bad, but finishing second to last was even worse. He'd been overtaken by nearly everyone he qualified ahead of, and he was forever behind a Haas. As much as she adored Mick Dan shouldn't have been down there with him. As soon as he was weighed he came straight to her, the two of them finding a corner to just be for a few moments before the real world had to intrude again. She knew Blake and Michael were making excuses but she didn't care, arms around Dan and holding him tightly.

"I'm so sorry, Emmy. I'm sorry I fucked up and disappointed you." The heartbreak in his voice was too easy to hear and she was so angry that he thought she could be disappointed in him.

"Hey, no. No, Danny. You can never disappoint me. Not ever. Not about a result in a race. I love you. I love my husband. I love my Danny. Fuck this entire circus, I care about you. Not cars on a track."

"I love you too. So fuckin' much. You don't know how much I do."

"I've a slight idea. You're gonna be ok. We're gonna be fine. Three to go."

"Three left. Yeah." He was quiet for a moment and she could feel him taking a deep breath in. "I don't wanna go to media."

"I'll pay the fine if you want. I offered to in Monaco. Whatever makes you happy." She nearly thought he'd take it, but instead she watched as he stood up and pressed his thumb against where he knew their rings hung on her necklace as if for good luck.

"I'll see you after? We can go and pick up our bags from the hotel before we go to dinner with everyone."

"Sounds like a plan, I'll pack up." She went to separate but took her necklace off, unthreading her thin gold wedding ring from the chain before putting it back on. Dan watched as she held it up before handing it over. "For your pinkie. I'm right there with you while you're doing it."

It took everything in her to let Dan leave and go in front of the media. She knew some of the reporters, knew the ones who'd be good to him and wouldn't ask awkward questions that left him with no hope for a good answer. They could leave soon and that was what mattered.

Her brain kept boiling over with revenge plots that she knew in her heart and soul she couldn't let happen. She couldn't destroy McLaren, as much as she wished she could. It would hurt more than help. So instead she focused on putting everything into backpacks. Usually it was done neatly, clothes folded and cables coiled up. This time she just put it all in as fast as she could. She wanted to be out of the room the moment Dan arrived up to say they were free. The TV in the corner was playing an interview with him, and the moment "I don't know how I'm continuing to continue on" came out of his mouth she was so angry. She needed to be out of the circuit.

Everything was nearly done when she heard it. The remote was in her right hand to switch the TV off when Zak Brown's face appeared on it talking about Dan's performance and how he wasn't performing. She knew but seeing him talk about personal problems made her want to scream.

Em remembered Dan's description of his anger that day in Baku when the photo of them was made public. The way everything took over because the woman he loved was hurt and he couldn't change it. He had to control himself because Em needed him. And that evening in Austin she felt the exact same way, but this time there was nobody else to stop her. Without a second thought her fist made contact with the metal door hiding her from the world, a sickening crunch heard as she made contact.

“Fuck. Fuck!” Em clutched her hand to her chest as she stared at the dent in the metal door of the drivers room. She hadn’t meant to do that. It was supposed to be a little hit just to get her frustration out. Instead she couldn’t bend her fingers and she wanted to cry.

The fucking race and Zak Brown opening his fucking mouth because he couldn’t stand that the attention wasn’t on McLaren for one damn weekend. But no he had to say the cost cap penalty wasn’t enough and talk shit about Dan and if it was his face or the door at least his face wouldn’t have hurt so much.

“Ems? You ok?” She looked up to see Blake walk into the room as concern spread across his face. “TimTam what happened?”

“Punched the door.” He moved her hand and she groaned while a tear fell. “Fuck that hurts.”

“I want Michael to look, I think you might have broken it.”

“I’ll be fine till we get to Mexico. I just need to get out of here. Please Blakey.”

She nearly got through to him and convinced him to stay quiet until the door opened and Dan and Michael arrived in.

“Emmy?”

“She punched the door, her hand’s swelling up and it’s already starting to bruise. I think she might—“

“Don’t say it. Just don’t.” She was hanging on by a thread. Someone actually saying it was broken would make her lose every moment of composure she had left.

“Let me take a look.” Dan held her waist as Michael got her to twist her wrist. Flexing her fingers was completely out of the question and even in the ten minutes since it happened it was clear that her hand was swelling quickly.

“Looks like a boxers fracture Wriggle, but you need an X-ray. It might be the finger beside it too. Hospital.”

“I can’t go to the hospital. If I get spotted? If someone realises I’m there? It’s more bad fucking publicity. I’ll be fine.” She rambled for another minute before Dan stopped her with a kiss.

“Give us a sec?” Blake and Michael left the room to let them be alone and Em looked up at Dan. “You need to go, Baby. You need to. I don’t want my wife getting any more injured. I’ll go with you and we’ll be in and out and it’ll be fine. But please. I need to make sure you’re ok.”

“Fine.”

She didn't know how they managed to get out of the circuit without attracting more attention but she would forever be happy about it. Blake found a hotel near their house and pulled up, Dan walking in with her wearing a Ric3 hat to try avoid attention. He had to fill in the paperwork because she couldn't balance the clipboard with her injured hand. Em grinned watching Dan put her married name on the sheet and marking himself as her husband. The hospital needed to know it.

The triage was miserable and she was called back with Dan, leaving Michael and Blake behind. They did the same tests before and then asked Dan to leave the room for a few moments to go out to the waiting area. Her anxiety was ratcheting up as he left after the confirmation that she'd broken a bone in her hand, the medical staff asking her exactly how it had happened and if she was protecting herself. She didn't understand why they were asking until it was too late and Em was left alone in a room with a doctor and nurse.

"You can tell us what's going on. We can protect you." Her exhausted and anxious brain didn't make the connection.

"Protect me from what? A door I won't see again because this was Dan's last race there for...possibly forever? I'm not going to punch it again. I just want to get fixed up and go home."

"Is home safe for you, Mrs Ricciardo?"

They didn't ask that. They didn't. They couldn't. Home was the only safe place she had left in the world. Whether it was the farm, the apartment in London or one of the ridiculous places they called home it was safe for her. Anywhere that wasn't another Hilton hotel room was safe. Lying down with her husband and feeling him hold her was the best thing she had going for her. That was what she needed, to curl up with Dan on their mattress and have him hold her and tell her it was going to be ok.

"Home is my safe place. I've got my home and my husband and my family. Why are you asking this? Where's my husband? Why did you make him leave?"

"We think it might be better for you to-" The soft voice of the nurse made her angry. They were trying to convince her that something was wrong and as little as Em believed in her brain right then she knew Dan was right. He was the glue holding her together.

"You don't know me. You don't know what's best for me. You have no idea. I want my husband. Please. I just want my Danny. why isn't he here?"

"Ma'am, we're just trying to protect you." Em shuffled back on the bed, away from the nurse who had medication in her hand.

"Are you not listening to me? There's nobody to protect me from! I told you already, I punched a door in COTA. My husband didn't do anything, I'm the one who made a stupid mistake. Go ask anyone out there or my therapist or my psychiatrist, my husband isn't a violent man. Danny wouldn't hurt a fly. Why aren't you listening to me? Isn't that supposed to be your job to listen?" The yelling in her head was getting even worse, she didn't want to be there. She wanted Danny and could feel the tears pricking against her eyelids as she shut her eyes. She just wanted Danny.

"Mrs Ricciardo, please. Let-"

"Don't touch me. Don't you dare touch me. I want my hand fixed, and if you think you're touching me you're only doing it in front of my husband or brother. I'm not doing it without them here."

She felt ridiculous. She was like a child throwing a tantrum but her head was screaming. She felt like her skin was on fire, the questions and insinuations about Dan making it even harder to think. Her broken hand was held against her chest as she brought her knees up, good arm wrapping around her legs.

The medical staff moved away from her and Em focused her breathing. She could do it. She'd be ok. If they didn't let her go she could run the second the door was open. She couldn't stay. The boys were outside and she knew they wouldn't leave her alone. They were just sitting outside and she could go out to them once the doctor was gone. All Em could do was try to hold herself together until she could go back outside.

When Dan came back out Blake could tell something was seriously wrong. His best mate was shaking his head, worry and fear spread across his features.

"DR?"

"They think I'm hurting her. They think I'm hurting Emmy. My Emmy? I...they think I broke her hand. The doctor all but wrestled me out of the room. She was crying and they made me leave. They might want to keep her in. I heard someone mention a psych consult for her room. B I can't. She can't." The guilt rushed through Blake's veins at the mention. They knew how fragile Em was. It was obvious that she'd barely made it through the weekend, they all knew that she was barely keeping herself together. But he thought Dan needed him more and left her alone and this had happened.

"It's gonna be ok. She's not staying here. It's not happening." He didn't know where the conviction came from but it did. "They came over and said they needed her insurance information. I have some stuff but you need all of it. Plus pay whatever they need before she comes out and you have to tell her whatever the treatment costs. I'll be here for when she comes back."

"Yeah. Yeah. Thanks. Both of you, I dunno what we'd do. She has to get out."

"She will. Go." He watched Dan be directed to a back office before sitting down and thinking who he could call. Who had the pull here? He wasn't sure.

"Maybe it's better she stays here. Em needs help. Travelling isn't helping. She can get better and Dan can focus on racing and after the season's over she can come back." Blake didn't believe what he'd heard.

"Take that back."

"We both know she's struggling. And you won't let me help her physically at least. Maybe this is a good thing." Michael sounded so sure and that felt like a kick in the teeth.

"We're in Texas. Austin's the good part of it but this state is dangerous for women. Add to that do you really think he'd focus? After how he was when she left. And the one person who calms her down is Dan. Why do you think I keep changing his schedule to give them five minutes?"

"But if she needs-"

"No. Just fucking no. You're fired." Dan had been considering it but after this? Once the season was up he was done. So done.

"Huh?"

"We'll talk about it later. But go back to the hotel. I don't know where we're staying tonight but just go. I don't want you anywhere near her. Not a fucking chance. Get out and stay away." Michael stood to leave as Dan came back, confused.

"What happened?"

"He's going back to the hotel. Remember we were talking about him leaving at the end of the year? I told him."

"But..." Blake didn't want to do it. Didn't want to shove another thing on his best mate's plate. He couldn't.

"He thinks Em might be better staying. He's worried about her too. I told him to go back to the hotel, it's stressful."

"If it was London or Perth I might say yes. She's been sleepy, she's been miserable. Getting out of bed is impossible. But not here, I can't leave her in the States. We just need to get to Abu Dhabi. We can get her there?" He was nearly begging and Blake nodded. Whatever it took he was getting them through the next four weeks. However he could.

"Mr Ricciardo?" An unfamiliar nurse came over and Blake stood at the same time Dan did. "Your wife needs painkillers and a cast. They want to get a psychiatrist down for her but there's nobody on call tonight. I'm assuming from what she said she has one?"

"Yeah. And a therapist. It's been helping but this year has been bad." Understatement of the fucking year as far as Blake was concerned.

"I'm a fan, I know what's happening. I've got an ortho to wrap her hand and get you both out but she won't let anyone in unless it's you or her brother? I don't want them seeing you there, is her brother here?"

"That's me." He watched her take in the clear differences between him and Em, the accents being the most prominent.

"Parent trapped or something? As long as she says you are that's what matters. Come back and we can get her out in ten."

"Deal." He followed her straight back, terrified to see how Em was when he got to the room.

Em was ready to fight anyone when she saw the door open, a new nurse walking in with an IV kit in her hand. But Blake was standing right behind her and Em thought she could breathe again.

"B?"

"Hey Timmy." He came straight over and took her right hand, squeezing once and it was like the crushing weight on her chest lifted slightly.

"Where's...I don't know where Dan is? A doctor took him out to ask him questions and they think he hurt me and they don't believe me? I told them. I told them what I did but they didn't believe me."

"It's ok Emmy, calm down. I'm right here, I told them it was you who hit the door. It's fine. Dan's fine, he's out there filling in forms and billing stuff so he asked me to come back to stay with you. You know what American hospitals are like." She started to calm until the bill hit her. This was going to be insane and he shouldn't have to pay it.

"No, no it's gonna be so exp-"

"You think that health insurance we have doesn't cover America? He just has to give details. As soon as you came on full time he added you to the health insurance. It's all good."

"Thanks Blakey."

"Any time, Timtam. But you need to let the nurse do it, ok? It's just a painkiller so they can set your cast. There's a new doctor who isn't a dick outside. But they can't do it unless you've got fluids and a painkiller cause it'll hurt."

"I dunno what I can take with my medication. I don't want to feel fuzzy." Tears of frustration were there about to fall. She didn't want to talk. She wanted to go back to when she didn't need to talk because Dan knew what she meant. It was too much.

"Do you trust me?"

"You know I do." It was the honest truth. She trusted him more than she trusted anyone, even herself.

"Then let her give you this so you can get fixed up and we can go home. It's all good."

The only reason she agreed was because Blake asked her. He was safe. He was always safe. He was the reason she came back in the end, the reason she agreed to go to Monaco and see Dan again. He wouldn't let anyone hurt her, and she knew that. So she took a deep breath and squeezed his good hand as the needle went into her elbow, the nurse showing her the bag of saline and the bottle of IV paracetamol before it was hooked up.

Blake held her while they went through everything, a thick white cast wrapped around her hand feeling heavy as she sat there. He kept telling her how brave she was and how good she was doing while Em just sat looked at the floor. Once she was ready to leave he helped her up and put his hoodie around her, the nurse smiling and wishing her well.

If Blake didn't have an arm around her shoulders she would have fallen when she saw Dan outside. His eyes were red, face in a frown and he just looked defeated. He hadn't looked like that since they'd gotten the call that his contract was being ended. Her husband sat in an empty corner of the hospital waiting room with a cap on trying to be unnoticed, totally lost in his thoughts. It wasn't until Blake called him that he realised they were there, standing up and arms immediately going around her. Em felt like she could finally, finally breathe again.

"Can we go home? Please?" She whispered against his chest. The terror that someone would hear and not let her leave was all encompassing.

"Let's get out of here. I finished all the paperwork, they said you were just finishing up. We're all good, let's go home."

"Can we stop for pizza? I want cheese pizza and they said I need to eat." Dan had his arm around her directing her out, agreeing that they'd stop. "Wait. Where's Michael?"

"He went back to the hotel to pack, it's all good. Let's head." Blake led the way to the car so they could finally leave. Em slid into the back seat, Dan across from her and holding her hand.

She didn't remember much of the drive back to the house. She knew they stopped for pizza, Blake getting back in the car with boxes. There was a conversation about what the official story would be, how they'd tell people she'd broken her hand. Honestly she didn't care. She didn't want to give a shit about telling people what she was doing or how she'd been hurt but she didn't have a choice in that anymore. The world got to know everything about her.

When they made it inside Dan brought her to their room, helping her get her jeans and bra off and instead putting on cosy pjs. Blake had seen her in worse, this didn't matter to her. Instead he brought her back to the kitchen where Blake had shared their food out.

She made herself eat two slices and it was enough, after that Em curled into Dan and held onto him so tightly she thought she'd burst. The painkillers had dulled her hand to a throb and she just wanted to sleep. There was talk of moving a flight and sorting stuff and she didn't care. She just wanted to sleep.

But there was a voice in the back of her head getting louder and louder. Dan wiped her face down with micellar water and helped her into bed, pulling her close once he'd stripped down. Her ring was still on his pinkie and it made her smile.

But she'd tied him down to a crazy wife who couldn't keep her shit together. She'd given him the option in Montreal. Chloe had told her about a walk up Mont Royale where you could see the city laid out beneath you. She'd said it to Dan then, that he could leave. She wouldn't blame him for leaving then. He could go and be happy and find someone who deserved him.

He didn't sign up for a girlfriend with mental health problems. Who was having a breakdown and ruining their lives. Who had days where speaking was too much for her, the words wouldn't come.

It had happened since she was a kid. Maybe not exactly like this but she'd always had to find coping mechanisms and now it didn't work. It wasn't her fault as a kid when her parents wouldn't help her and when she was in uni and couldn't afford anything apart from the six sessions from her uni gave her of therapy. But it definitely wasn't Dan's responsibility.

He deserved to be happy, he deserved to be with someone who loved him and wanted him to take a reserve role or the job with Haas. He deserved a happy wife and life and a family that she didn't know if she could give him. She didn't know if her anxiety would ruin them. It was so much.

So she was going to tell him he could leave. He deserved the world and maybe she wasn't the one to give it to him. She couldn't pull him out of drowning and she'd pull him down with her. She was going to ruin him and his reputation and his life, and she couldn't do that to him. She couldn't hurt him the way her mental health had hurt her. Anyone in their right mind would have walked away from her by then, but with the stress no wonder Dan didn't. Everyone else had left. Her parents, her extended family, her friends, her boyfriend. But Dan had been emotional and she'd proposed to him and it was so wrong. She'd basically forced him into it. It was a stupid, stupid decision and she'd ruined his life by doing it. So she was letting him go for his own good. He'd be happy to.

"Baby? Emmy you're crying. Do you need more painkillers? What's going on?" She hadn't realised she was crying. She didn't even mean to. Em took a deep breath before saying the words that were going to ruin her.

"I won't blame you. Y'know. If you want to leave. We've only been married for nine weeks, you can leave. No fault divorce, we leave with what we came in with. I don't want anything. You deserve better than a broken wife who can't keep herself together. I don't want to hold you back. I don't want anything. I can go."

The room was silent and Em could feel her heart break the longer the silence went on. It was over. Married for nine weeks to the love of her life and she had just ended it. In the same room he'd proposed to her so they could get married properly less than a week ago. How had she said yes then? She went to move out of the bed but Dan's iron grip kept hold of her.

"Don't ever say that. Never. Never ever. You are the only woman I want in my life. You're not broken, Emmy. You are here and whole and alive and beside me. I can't lose you. Please don't ask me that. Please don't ask me to leave you because I can't. I'd walk away from all of this before I lose you. You're my wife, Emmy. I promised I love you. I'm not leaving."

"You're not leaving?"

"No. I'm not going anywhere. Never. The day I got to put that ring on your finger was the best day of my life. I love you. The same way you love all of me for some reason. We're gonna fly to Mexico in a few days and we're gonna make you feel better. It's gonna take time, but we're going to be here. It's going to work. I promise. Come and sleep, Love. I'm not going anywhere."

Em curled into him, pushing a kiss against his chest. Sleep didn't come easily to her, but the noise of Dan's heartbeat and the warmth of him against her let her finally sleep.

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studioghibelli · 4 months

Text

hungry eyes- a joel miller x reader

summary: it had been a long, hard, horrible week, and you are all alone, reminiscing of the man who always made you feel better.

warnings: post outbreak!au, female reader, a tiny itty bit of the good ole’ angst (apocalypse sort of stuff), flashbacks to better times, smut (piv sex, f receiving oral, dirty talk, creampie, unprotected sex, daddy kink) age gap (20s/40s, you can decide ;) ) reader has hair, pet names, slightly emotionally closed off joel (what’s new lmao).

rating: explicit, 18+ mdni

word count: 5k….ish

The marigold caramel of the rising sun bathed the room in comfortable serenity, casting shadows across the wall that danced like ballerinas. If you hadn’t known any better, you would have called it a beautiful morning.

The mattress in the corner of the tiny apartment was torn and old, stained by years of neglect and stiff with the smell of mildew, but it was the first mattress you had come across in weeks. You had a peaceful nights sleep, about as peaceful as you could given the circumstances.

You were unsure how long the apocalypse had been going on for. Five years, ten years, one hundred years- it was all the same to you. It had brought nothing but pain to your life, and that included Joel Miller.

Joel.

Cripplingly handsome, extraordinarily strong, silently austere, mysteriously reserved. You had fallen for him as quickly as you had lost him. Quite literally lost him.

He was there one morning, and then he was gone. Like a leaf flying in the breeze, a grain of sand travelling through a current, a stray piece of grass floating in a valley. He had just….. vanished. Nothing to remember him by except a worn Longhorn shirt that smelled like him. Whether he left that piece of himself on purpose or simply forgot, you weren’t quite sure.

Despite his absence, his betrayal, his abandonment- you still yearned for him, you still loved him, you still craved him.

The week had not been kind to you.

Four near death experiences, consistently water soaked socks, and the most important and arguably the worst of them all- the last stash of your favorite granola bars. Sometimes you would have weeks like this with Joel, when nothing in the world was going right, and he always managed to make it feel better. He was gifted like that.

“Joel.” You whimpered, stopping in your tracks. The forest was alive with chirping birds, rattling leaves. The hot sun filtered in through the thick canopy of forest above, no respite from the thick, chewable humidity.

Tears were pricking your eyes.

“Almost there baby.” He already knew what was upsetting you, and he hadn’t even turned around. He could tell what was up with a simple glance, a simple inflection in your voice, a simple sigh.

You both had been up since dawn, on your feet the past 13 hours, trying to make your way to Boston. You had heard of a quarantined zone out that way. It was tiring, hard, tumultuous work.

“I’m tired. We haven’t eaten in three days. I don’t… I can’t keep this up.” Your voice was less of a whine, more of a deflated statement of abandon. You were genuinely on the edge. Was any of this even worth it?

He turned to you, his face emotionless. His beard had grown out from its usual scruff, eyes deepened by dark eye bags. You had been asking him to get more sleep, but he always insisted on taking watch while you slept.

Joel walked to where you were, a few long strides behind him, and gently grabbed your shoulders. His large hands were warm and well worked, and after years of contracting and fighting, his palms were left rough and calloused. Nonetheless, they were familiar, and warm, and inviting.

“You can keep this up. Because you’re strong. You’re a fighter, have been since I met you.” He pushed a stray piece of hair that had fallen into your face out of the way, his thumb rubbing against your cheek, helping swipe away the piece of mud that had dried beside your chin. “Come night fall, I’ll have found us a good, safe place to stay. We can rest for a few days, relax a bit.”

You nodded your head slowly, knowing he was a man of his word. Joel gave you the ghost of a smile, pressing a hot kiss to your forehead, before grabbing your hand and helping you along the rocky path.

The air was cold and stale, drying out your nostrils with every deep inhale you took. You looked to your left, the sunlight hitting your eyes.

No Joel.

It didn’t surprise you, you knew what to expect. But some mornings you wish you could squeeze your eyes shut and open them, to find yourself transported to a different world entirely.

One where Joel was there, tracing his fingers along the middle of your back, the way he always did to wake you up. One where he was pressing hot kisses on your shoulder blades, the way he knew you liked best. One where he was still dragging his fingers through your hair so he could get a better look at you, even though it always made your stomach flutter with butterflies.

Your chest felt tight as you inhaled a sharp gasp of air.

You’d give anything, just to feel him one more time. Just to know his love so intimately and dearly once again.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl.” He groaned in your hair, his sweaty body sticking against yours. His chest was hot and flushed, beads of sweat gathering beside the crows feet at his temples.

Your legs has been wrapped around his middle, and your arms had been thrown around his neck, quietly chanting his name as he took you, your back against the soft, dewy morning grass.

“Yeah?” You asked, your voice tantalizing and soft.

Joel groaned, looking down at you. A picture of perfection. Radiant, gorgeous, inspiring perfection. In a world so chaotic and constantly changing, you were the one constant he always had, the one constant he always wished to know.

“Joel?” You whispered, your bottom lip gathering between your teeth.

He had been on top of you, thrusting deep inside you for only a few minutes by then, the Summer sun beating down, cascading you both in thick golden light. His shoulder blades flexed just right beneath the waves of sunny radiation, the age in his face showing more clearly, yet not taking away any of his solemn, sturdy attractiveness.

He was focusing on your pussy, his fingers slowly rubbing at your clit. He could always tell when you were getting close to orgasm, like he knew your body just as well as you did. Perhaps even better. He knew when you were being pushed to your limits, when you needed to stop for a rest on the road, when you were being so stubborn you couldn’t realize how hungry you were- Joel just knew it all. He knew you. The way a man in love was supposed to know his woman.

At least that’s how Joel saw it.

He’d never admit it though. He wrestled with how young you were, how many years he had on you, and a part of him wondered if he had ever made you feel forced. If you had, a part of his heart ached for you, and a part of his soul hated himself. But you were smart, and Joel trusted you more than those unwanted, dark thoughts often pestered. You would tell him, if he had ever hurt you. He knew you would. Because although you were young, by God were you smart, witty, headstrong. No one could control you.

He loved you deeply for those aspects that so many would be intimated by, and Joel knew he was done for. He knew you were all that was left in this decaying, decrepit world, all that could ever make him feel content once again. You brought a sense of normality into his life that he had been craving for so long.

His fingers were dragging circles across your clit, his cock twitching deep inside of you. You were whimpering beneath him, snapping him back to reality. He remembered you had said his name.

“Yes, darlin’?”

“I-I-” Your voice was cut short as his eyes met your own. His eyes. Oh, how you adored them. Dark and alluring and sweet and welcoming and- you felt your stomach tightening with an orgasm, groaning as your nails dug into his shoulders.

This next part. Well, you didn’t mean to, you swore you’d keep it to yourself until the day you died. But as your orgasm washed over you, all you could do was cry out: “I fucking love you, Joel.”

You pushed yourself up on your elbows, swinging your legs off the side of the bed. This tiny apartment would have to do, at least for now. You had pushed a book shelf over the door, and you were three stories off the ground, offering you some sense of protection. If that was even possible.

You knew nothing was getting inside, and you’d have a hard time getting out, considering that wooden bookshelf took you a considerable amount of strength to push over. Your stomach churned at the thought. Could you even get out?

Boston wasn’t far now. About a three hour walk or so. You could see the outline of the city outside the grimy window, its buildings slowly collapsing, covered in blankets of destruction.

Some odd sense, which danced between relief and grief, overtook you. A dream to get to Boston that you had shared with a man no longer there. A dream that felt so unobtainable, all those years ago. Somehow, by God, by the universe, by fate, whatever it was, you somehow managed to get here.

You wondered if Joel had, too.

Your stomach jolted at the thought of his name.

“Joel.” You murmured to yourself, your hand resting on the window. The thought of seeing him again, his eyes meeting yours, his skin on yours, filled you with a bundle of nerves. To have him, the way you once did, lit some fire within you. What if…?

You knew he was a capable and smart man. If anyone could make it on their own, it would be him.

Hell, you did. You figured he must have, too.

You dug through your bag, finding some deodorant and toothpaste that you had miraculously looted while out on the road, getting ready for a day you’d inevitably spend inside, lounging and thinking, day dreaming and yearning.

But that was before you heard the gun shots from down below, the heavy hum of an armored truck driving through the road. Clickers shrieked at the sudden noise in the distance, and you ducked behind your window, eyeing the outside world

Faceless people dressed in heavy armor, about a dozen or so of them, jumped out of their vehicles, heavy guns in their hands as they started breaking off into pairs.

“I want all this looted. Every bit of it.” Someone shouted, a man’s voice muffled by his mask as he waved his fingers in the air, sending them off into pairs with the simple motion. “Whatever you find, report it back to me. Two hours tops.”

They scurried off, three groups heading for the building you were currently in. Surely it would take some time for them to reach the third floor. Surely.

You slid down the wall, legs to your chest, staring in front of you. Well, that man didn’t sound very nice, and you weren’t sure what your fate would be if he found you.

Then again, was anyone really nice anymore? Were you nice? Even Joel Miller, who certainly had his soft spot for you, could have been a major dick sometimes. You had your moments too.

But it seemed like the good had always outweighed the bad, at least with the two of you.

“I could probably eat pie every day. I miss it so much.” You groaned, swinging your head back. Your feet were shuffling against the falling leaves, too lazy to pick them up. Fall was coming, spreading its beautiful oranges and reds throughout the street, coating the earth with a special atmosphere that only came around autumn. It had been your favorite, before the world turned. When you were much younger, much cleaner, much sweeter.

Joel was quiet beside you, jaw clenched tightly, eyes focused on the road ahead. It was nothing new. You had been with him for two months now, and he rarely talked. He listened to you rant, cry, laugh. He grunted, shrugged, nodded- but rarely talked. When he did, he always had something good to say. Or he snapped at you. There was no in between with him.

“What was your favorite?” He asked quietly.

You glanced at him, a bit surprised he gave in to your mindless conversation. It made your heart beat quicker, your stomach rolling up to your throat. It made you feel special when he asked you questions. Like he actually wanted to know, he wasn’t just filling in the silence.

“Hard question. My nana made a killer coconut cream pie. French silk was good. Pecan too.”

“Pecan.” Joel basically moaned the word, his stomach growling lowly. “God, I loved pecan.”

You giggled, looking at him, the flickering shine of adoration clouding your orbs. “I wish I could make you some.” Your voice had dropped to a whisper, and he stopped walking, glancing at you.

“Don’t start lookin’ at me like that.” He warned, after a long look at you. Your eyes had been dancing a silent dance with one another, an odd feeling of… care…shadowing over the two of you.

“Like what?” You really had no clue, but the look on your face betrayed your obliviousness.

“Like you’re fallin’ in love with me.”

Shaking your head quickly, you felt embarrassment heating up your cheeks. “N-no…. I’m not.”

“Mhm. I know women, I know that look y’all get on your faces, when you’re startin’ to fall. The eyes, Chico. They never lie.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, lips twisting with perplexion. He noticed, and cleared his throat before explaining.

“From a movie my brother ‘n I used to watch. Called Scarface.”

“Never heard of it.”

A sweet, honeyed chuckle escaped Joel, and he shook his head, adjusting the strap of his gun across his shoulder. His eyes flashed with something, a feeling you had never seen him omit before. If you were foolish enough, you reckoned it could be grief, mixed with a little bit of sadness, a little bit of guilt. “Yeah, you definitely ain’t gettin’ no lovin’ from me, girl. You’re too young.”

Your stomach dropped at his brutal honesty, and you continued shuffling along, thinking about pecan pie and the handsome man beside you.

Your thoughts were snapped by the handle of the apartment door rattling, trying to budge against the book shelf. That was quick. You looked around for somewhere to hide, grabbing your gun and settling on a spot beneath the bed.

It was going to be a tight squeeze, but you managed to crawl your way beneath it.

The door finally broke open, the bookshelf falling with a mighty thud, and you heard heavy, labored breathing. Yeah. Heavy bookshelf. You thought to yourself, a bit stoked you somehow managed to get it there yourself.

I mean it didn’t really do anything in the end, seeing as someone had managed to make it inside but…. well, whatever.

You placed your hand over your mouth to hide your breathing, hearing the mysterious person begin walking around. You heard the window open.

“Dammit.” A husky groan escaped the person that you now recognized as a man, his voice barely above a coherent whisper.

You closed your eyes, tight.

“Dammit!” Joel snapped, slamming his fist against the tree trunk. Pieces of bark broke off beneath him, crumbling against his leather boots.

“Whoa there, cowboy! Look- now your knuckles are bleeding. Just calm down.” You shuffled through your bag, finding some gauze and rubbing alcohol.

“Those fuckin’ liars. I can’t stand liars. Said there was a car here, said they swore they saw one!”

You picked up Joel’s hand, gently pouring the alcohol over it. He barely winced. For some reason, that turned you on. You shook your head slightly. Now was not the time! “It’s okay. We’ll figure something out, we always do, don’t we?” Joel ignored you, sulking for a bit.

“You got pretty hands.” He whispered after a long moment of silence. “They’re soft.” Joel’s thumb brushed across your knuckles, bloodless and smooth.

You looked down at him, gently brushing a piece of hair off his face. The hint of anger still sat in his eyes, although they were softening ever so slightly. “What happened to not loving me?” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

Joel chuckled. “I didn’t say I loved ya.” His voice was gruff. Tired from a long day. Exhausted from his rage.

You gently cupped his cheek before dropping it, all in the same movement. “The eyes, Chico. They never lie.”

He sat there quietly and reserved, letting you bandage his hands up. You were unsure if he was annoyed, his face void of any emotion, but you could have sworn a smirk swept across his lips.

The heavy footed man shuffled, opening drawers and pushing through shelves, grunting and huffing to himself. That’s when a pair of boots caught your eye. Dark brown leather, embellished with a black sole and darker embroidery. Shoes that you had known well, many moons ago.

Joel.

If it wasn’t him, you risked losing your life. If it was him, you risked falling apart. It was a loss either way. So you finally spoke. “Joel?” You croaked out, tears welling in your eyes.

The man stopped walking, and you heard the floorboards creak as he turned his head. His jeans stretched tight against his thighs as he squatted down, lifting up the bed sheet that was hanging off the side, masking you from view.

And there he was.

A little bit older. A little bit rougher. A little bit dirtier.

His hair was curling around the sides of his face, grayer than it had been, and the wrinkles were more evident in his forehead, deep lines beside his mouth. The end of the world definitely aged the man. Yet still, despite it all, he was so handsome.

Inside your chest, anger was brewing, clawing at your rib cage, screaming to be let out. You were stuck in a maelstrom of love, anger, and a whole lot of curiosity. You wanted to hit him, you wanted to kiss him. You wanted him to apologize, you wanted him to fuck you, you wanted him to hate you, to love you. You were stuck in a pit of emotion, not knowing what your next move would be.

Everything was happening so quickly. Blood was rushing to your head, white noise filling your ears.

“Well I’ll be damned.” He smiled, a real, genuine smile, and extended his hands for you.

You wasted no time. “Where the fucking hell did you go?” You snarled, pushing away his hand as you belly crawled out from underneath your hiding space. You didn’t want to think about how stupid you probably looked right now, crawling on your stomach, grunting and sweating from the heat.

“Well, darlin’, I’m sorry I got caught up with the wrong people.” He raised his hands, leaving you just as confused as before. “Was expecting a warmer welcome.”

There was a long moment of silence. “Huh?!” You finally cried out, throwing your arms up.

“I went out that mornin’ lookin’ for some….” Joel groaned softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Some flowers.” He snarled through gritted teeth, almost embarrassed. “And there was a group of these…. I don’t know what to call ‘em. Scouts? Held a gun to my head, asked if I was with anyone. I said no, y’know. Saved you from a whole world of hurt.”

You stood there, in disbelief that he was actually there. Your anger soon dissipated. Now you were left with a terrible, awful, horrible pit in your stomach. Guilt. Sadness. Love.

“I can’t believe…. I-I- you’re here. In front of me.” Tears were pooling in your eyes, threatening to spill. Your heart was beating ten times faster than usual, your chest hurting from the sudden influx of emotion

Joel took a step towards you. “In the flesh, darlin’.”

“I didn’t know if you were dead or…. or alive or….” You groaned, burying your face in the palms of your hands as a sob shook through you. “It was so hard. Being-being alone, without you.”

Joel grabbed your waist tightly, and you slowly looked up at him. “You won’t be alone without me, ever again. I promise you. You hear?” He gripped ahold of your chin, tilting your head upwards. You looked up at him with those big doe like eyes of yours, and his thumb slowly brushed across your bottom lip. “As much as I would love to show you how much I’ve been missin’ you, we got some fuckin’ asshats barrelin’ through the place. I was lookin’ for a place to leave, that’s how I found this room.”

“Where you in this building?”

He nodded. “Stopped here a couple nights ago. Was on the top floor.”

“We were here, in the same building, and neither of us even….. even knew.” You muttered, eyebrows furrowing. Life was a curious thing.

“Must’ve been fate, huh?” Joel grinned, walking back over to the window. He put a hand on his hip as he leaned the other against the wall, straining his neck. “By now they’ll still be on the first floor. Our best bet is either sneakin’ out, or jumping from the second floor.”

“Jumping?” You repeated.

“Mhm.” Joel was chewing on the inside of his cheek as he turned to face you. “You’re the lady. You make the choice.”

You stood there for a moment, weighing over the two rather atrocious options. “Second floor.” You finally said. “A hurt leg is better than getting shot down.”

“Then we jump. Together.”

Joel grabbed your hand, before stopping abruptly. He looked you over, staring at your chest with narrowed eyes. “Is that my Longhorns shirt?”

“Yeah. You left it, that morning.”

He shook his head, a smile on his mouth. “I was wonderin’ where that went. It looks much better on you.”

“Nah.” You shook your head, your mind wandering to the way his broad shoulders had once looked beneath it, the way his strong arms flexed under the sleeves. Your knees were starting to go weak.

You both made your way towards the stairwell, quietly creeping down until you reached the next floor. You saw a door ajar in the back of the hallway, walking towards it. Joel stepped in first, making sure it was clear, before grabbing your hand and leading you inside.

It was a simple apartment, but what the most appealing part of it was, was a made bed. A fluffy comforter, four pillows, and a knitted throw blanket. It was tempting. It looked soft. It looked like the world had somehow managed to miss it entirely, not once touching it.

It looked like it was calling your name.

How you missed it your first scan through, you had no clue.

You and Joel shared a look.

“As much as I want too….”

“What are the odds they’ll hear?” You whispered, a smile cracking at your mouth.

Joel tossed it around in his head, groaning. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. Hearin’ or not.”

Your hand grabbed his collar. “I do. I think it’s a good idea.”

“You’ve always been a trouble maker. Of course you think it’s a good idea.” He snorted.

“Me?” You feigned a gasp, your eyes innocent behind batting eyelashes.

Joel groaned, giving in, before tugging at the hem of your shirt. “Off.”

You obeyed, tossing it off your body as he began undoing his belt. “So damn pretty.” He murmured, his hand tracing down your bare stomach. He didn’t say it, but you knew behind his eyes, he had missed you deeply.

“Been with anyone prettier since we’ve been apart?” You asked teasingly. A part of you was actually curious, morbidly so.

“Wouldn’t even dream of it, baby.”

Your heart fluttered, and he took a step forward, taking your body in his hands. “I’m gonna fuck you on that bed, then we’re jumpin’ out that window. Nothin’ else for now.” You opened your mouth to protest, and he cut you off. “Now I know you want to lay with me, talk about pie and shit, but we can do that somewhere else. Somewhere safer. Got it?”

You giggled softly and nodded. “I promise that next time, I’ll take real good care of you. Okay?” You nodded once more in agreement. “Now that’s a good girl.”

Joel’s fingers went to the zipper of your pants, tugging them off until they pooled at your ankles, quickly discarding your bra. Wetness had been pooling in your red cotton underwear since you first saw him, a throbbing deep within your stomach. But now, with his roughed up hands on your skin, the smooth richness of his voice- all of it just added to your arousal, making your head spin with excitement.

And Joel knew this. He knew you like the back of his hand.

All the time you’d been apart, all those lonely nights and long days without you, he thought of you. Embarrassingly more than he’d like to admit. Joel was a tough man, he knew he was intimidating to most, but you had always seen right through him. You had always known that deep, deep, deep down, behind all the violence and rage, there was a kind heart, and a gentle, understanding man. Although that was reserved for your eyes only.

“Kiss me, Joel.” You whispered, looking up at him.

“Joel?”

“Oh, sorry. I meant…. daddy.” You purred softly, grinning up at him mischievously.

“That’s better.” He pushed you back on the bed, climbing over you. Joel leaned down, pressing a searing kiss to your mouth. It was a hungry kiss. The kind that made you forget everything going on around. The kind that consumed your entire being. In this moment you were him, and he was you.

A shiver ran down your spine.

“Need you.” You groaned against his lips. “Need you so bad.”

“Yeah? You want daddy to make you feel good?” Joel asked quietly, his hand creeping down behind your underwear, fingers rubbing against the slick of your folds.

The tip of his index finger traced a line down your clit, swollen and throbbing with the promise of soon coming pleasure. A mewl escaped you, finger nails digging into his bare shoulders as his fingers explored you. He groaned into your shoulder blade, plunging two finger inside your tight, wet cunt.

“Jus’ like I remembered. Nice and tight for me. She’s real wet, too.” His mouth was watering, teeth gently nipping against the lobe of your ear. “Can’t wait to taste you.”

“I thought we were just fucking then jumping-”

“Changed my mind.” He fired out quickly. “You got a pussy worth dying for.”

You both shared a laugh. A real, genuine laugh. The kind that was only ever shared between two bonded people, between those who knew each other deeply, intimately, intensely.

He pushed your legs back as he slid down, hooking his rough arms around your thighs. Your legs rested on his broad shoulders, and you watched with eagle eyes as he leaned forward, his tongue extending towards your clit.

That first lick made your eyes roll back, your neck falling into the pillows behind you. A sigh of relief, a sigh of love, escaped you.

Joel hummed against your pussy, savoring the way you tasted. He knew how to make you cum in under five minutes, he had done it many, many times before, but there was something about lapping you all up, taking his sweet, precious time with you, that turned him on more than anything.

He was the one making you feel good. He was the one causing you to come undone.

Nothing in the world felt better than that.

You ran your fingers through his hair, staring at him through your eyelashes. “So handsome.” You whispered, a whimper coming soon after.

“Gonna make me blush.” He grinned, sucking your clit into his mouth. He swirled his tongue against your button, fingers digging in to your soft thighs, leaving his imprint against them.

“Oh, Joel. Oh, baby. Right there.” Your back arched against the covers as he sucked harder on your clit, introducing his fingers to your opening once more.

Joel pushed them in to the knuckle, his ring and index finger slowly pumping, stretching you out, before they sought after that soft spot he knew made you crazy. The spot he knew made you lose your mind. All because of him.

The thought made Joel moan against you.

“Taste so damn good, babydoll. So fuckin’ good for me. So perfect.” Joel muttered against your wet pussy, lapping you up like a man who hadn’t tasted water in weeks.

“Oh. Oh, so close. Gonna cum for you.”

Joel continued fingering you, hitting your g-spot with every pump of his fingers. “Yeah? Gonna cum all over daddy’s tongue?”

“Mhm.” You were panting now, grinding your cunt against his face, bucking your hips- he had turned you in to a wild animal, panting and clawing, hungry for him and only him. No one else had ever seen you like this, and no one ever would.

You were pulling so hard at his graying curls his scalp was aching, but Joel didn’t mind. As long as he got to taste his girls’ cum in the end.

“Gonna-gonna… fuck, Joel. I’m cumming!” You cried out, perhaps a bit too loudly, pulling his face closer to your pussy as he sucked and licked, not wasting any drop of the wetness dripping out of you.

When you came to, Joel had gotten on top of you, his fingers still gingerly rubbing your pussy, bringing you back to the real world.

“God I missed you.” You groaned, wrapping your arms around his neck, bringing him closer.

“I missed you too.” He whispered, gently rubbing his nose into yours. “I thought about you. A lot.” His voice was serious, quiet, and a little bit embarrassed. Joel wasn’t good at talking about these things, but he would make an effort for you.

You gently cupped his face, rubbing your thumb over his sharp cheekbone. “Now go on and fuck me, Miller. We don’t have all day.”

You gently reached down, wrapping your hand around his hard cock. You felt it throb. He placed his hand over yours, slowly guiding it to your wet entrance. “‘M gonna fuck you real good. Real hard. The way you deserve.”

Butterflies erupted in your stomach, and all you could do was nod.

Joel ran his hands down your side, eliciting a giggle. The tip of his dick slowly pushed inside of you, stretching you slowly. He pulled back, gently thumbing your clit as he watched himself slowly enter in to you. “Jus’ perfect. Perfect girl for me. A dream.” He murmured to no one in particular.

You gently grabbed hold of his thick biceps, feeling the sticky sensation of his sweat. You clenched yourself around him, and his head snapped towards you. “Not gonna last long if you keep that up. Hope you know.”

“You just started!” You teased breathlessly.

Joel chuckled, leaning forward. He had pushed himself fully inside, before pulling all the way out and slamming back in. You gasped at the sudden movement, quickly becoming acquainted with this pattern.

“So big. So good.”

He smirked an arrogant, cocky smirk, pounding deeper, harder, yet keeping the same pace, never getting sloppy or impatient. He was good at controlling himself, good at keeping his eye on the prize. And you were most certainly the prize he wanted most in this life.

“God, Joel. Jesus Christ.” You gritted your teeth, your stomach tightening as he hit deep inside you, hitting that spot once again, now over sensitive from your previous orgasm.

“Think you can cum for me again?” He grunted. “Think I can get that pretty pussy to gush for me?”

“Ohhh, God. Yes! Yes. Please, make me cum, daddy. Please.” You were begging now, overwhelmed with the feeling of being full of him, being so close to him.

It had been a long, long time. And yet, like an apparition, a god, a ghost, he had appeared once again. Just as perfect and handsome as the last time you ever saw him. You knew in your heart of hearts it happened for a reason. You belonged together.

“Yeah, I’ll make you cum.” He reached down, slowly circling your clit. It was soft and wet against his finger, just begging to be touched.

You looked up into his eyes. His deep, dark, gorgeous eyes, darkened by desire, full of you. They softened once they caught glimpse of you, but they were still glossed over with hunger.

His fingers tangled themselves in to the tresses of your hair, inhaling you. All of you. Devouring you with his mind, body, soul as he took you. Hard. Deep. Passionately.

Joel gently bit down onto your neck, sucking and kissing, marking you as his. Only his.

“Gonna cum, Joel.” You mumbled into his cheek, his fingers keeping the same pace and motions as before against your clit.

You clenched against him as your orgasm rushed over you, white hot pleasure soaking in to your senses, blinding you to the world around. Everything was Joel. Everything was him. As you came, the only thought on your mind was Joel.

Joel, Joel, Joel.

Like a prayer. A chant. A song.

He grunted into your skin, his hips slapping into your body. Over, and over. “Gonna cum in you.” He mumbled. He didn’t care if it was a bad decision. He didn’t care. All he knew was he needed you, the way a dying plant needed water, the way the ocean needed the moon.

“Yeah? Go on, baby. Fill me up.” You begged, running your hands down his back.

Joel moaned, an animalistic growl escaping him as his cock twitched, filling you with his cum, his own orgasm washing over him in droves. In that moment all you knew was him, the way his skin felt, the way he smelled, the way his mouth tasted.

And in turn all he knew was you. The sweetness of your voice, the thickness of your hair. You. You. You.

Joel collapsed in to you, catching his breath as his face rested on your neck. You rubbed his back, fingers massaging in to his shoulders, coaxing him back to life.

“Missed you.” You whispered. “So much.”

He nodded slowly, holding you close to him. “I missed you.”

There wasn’t much time to dilly dally. You heard footsteps coming up the stairs down the hall, and both of you stood up, reaching for your clothes. You watched him dress as you mindlessly clipped your bra, eyes full of love, full of contentment.

His fingers slowly buttoned up his flannel, a lazy smile hanging on his face. You knew he was content, just like you. Lacing up his boots, he made his way to the window.

“When you jump, aim for that.” He said, pointing to the pile of thrown out couch pillows, moss covered and stained with mud. “It’s our best bet. Make sure your legs are tucked as close to your chest as possible.”

“Are we going to die?” You asked, perhaps a bit too casually. A painful attempt to mask your nerves.

“Someday. But not today. I promise.”

You nodded, slinging your backpack over your shoulders. “Well jump together?” You whispered.

Joel nodded. “Always, darlin’.”

You gulped thickly. “I know you love me. You always have.”

He scoffed. “Says who?”

A smirk crossed your face as you propped your leg up on the window, staring at the earth beneath you. It didn’t seem so far from this angle, didn’t look too bad. “The eyes.” You whispered, turning to face him. “They never lie.” You pulled him in for one more kiss, deep and passionate. He reciprocated, chuckling against your lips as he kissed you back, holding you close to him.

When he pulled away he looked at you like you were the only thing in this world that mattered.

“I never should have told you about that damned movie.” Joel gently brushed his thumb against your cheek, kissing you once more. “On the count of three, got it?”

You nodded.

One

Two

Three

When you jumped, hand in hand, neither of you were too sure what would come next. But both of you knew, although it was unspoken, that whatever came next would be much easier together.

155 notes · View notes

aloneinthehellfire · 9 months

Text

Gates Of Hell Masterlist

steve harrington x fem!reader / apocalypse!au

Summary: Hawkins swarmed with monsters, quarantined from the rest of the world, few survivors. Steve Harrington and Y/n Hopper are forced to survive together, knowing that despite their hatred, they need each other to make it out of Hawkins alive.

[this fic is based after the events of st2!] comment below to be added to tags!

Part One

the beginning

Chapter One: The Day It Rained Fire

Chapter Two: Harsh Reality

Chapter Three: Truth

Chapter Four: A Girl Who Cried Wolf

Chapter Five: The Cabin

Chapter Six: Don't Trust The Voices

Chapter Seven: Surviving Is Fantasy

Chapter Eight: Never Be Distracted

Chapter Nine: An Alliance Or A Mistake?

Chapter Ten: Part One: The Lab

Chapter Ten: Part Two: An Ode To The Complicated

Chapter Eleven: Once Bitten

Chapter Twelve: Down The Rabbit Hole

Part Two

uʍop ǝpᴉsdn ǝɥʇ

Chapter Thirteen: Three Weeks Later

Chapter Fourteen: We're Running Out Of Time

Chapter Fifteen: Sattler’s Quarry

Chapter Sixteen: The Pattern

incoming signal from the upside down...

Chapter Seventeen: Don't Forget Me [coming soon]

Extras

GOH: The Monsters

#stranger things x reader #stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington series #st2 #apocalypse au #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #fanfic #steve x reader #steve harrington fanfic

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alonetimelover · 1 year

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Action! - tolerate it - 2020

Pairings: Harry Styles x Director!Reader

Summary: YN sees how much Harry is distancing himself from her and their relationship. She decides to confront him, not realising the cascade of events about to happen and the feelings she had buried within herself.

Warnings: angst! swearing, mention of unfaithfulness

Word count: ~3,0k

A/N: Another one based on a song, like the title says: tolerate it by Taylor Swift. Hope you enjoy it! x

requested by @abbeyroad069 I hope it meets your expectations 💗

part 2 - champagne problems

series masterlist let's talk about action!universe

20th of June was, like any day in California, warm and sultry.

Sun high above illuminating his face through the dimmed windows. Book that she recommended to him in his hands, flipping pages from time to time, annotating it. Scribbling in his notebook after having found a noteworthy quote. His hair falling into place like dominoes, the pink hair-slide having been forgotten from the gym the other day. Rolled up sleeves, showing his multiple tattoos and shorts, short enough to give her a peak of his Brazil one.

She was sitting opposite him watching. Observing his head hanging low, reading the book she loved so much. His chest was rhythmically lifting with each of the deep and calm breath. His left hand, folding down the pages he’d already read. The right one fiddling with the pencil.

She noticed everything he did and didn’t do.

She sat and watched him.

“I can feel your eyes on me, baby,” Harry spoke without sparing her a glance. “You’re staring.”

“I’m admiring.” Scrutinising.

Harry closed the book and turned to her, “are you?”

“Yeah.”

“Not now, at least. Also that plant hasn’t changed since the day we bought it,” he noted, noticing her eyes watching the flower.

He was wrong. Not for the first and probably last time. That plant was the fourth she brought to their shared house. The first one, that Harry was alluding to, was overwatered, because before it, YN hadn’t known much about plants and had thought they needed water like people, every day. But it was succulent. YN replaced it within two weeks.

The second plant, a completely different one - a fuchsia, didn’t last longer. This one being unfortunately knocked over by a dog of YN’s friend, and chewed on, leaving just two flowers. Nothing she could’ve done with them, she searched it up.

The third one lasted the longest - almost three months. She only needed to replace it, having learned she was allergic to ficus. After weeks of a runny nose, sneezing whenever in a living room and lacrimation, she went to a doctor, did allergic tests and wallowed over her proud achievement that a living plant was. However, she gave it to her best friend, knowing it would be in good hands.

Harry didn’t notice any change. It couldn’t have been easy for him though. Today was the first day in five months that he decided to actually spend time with YN. During those months he was meeting up with his new costars (of a movie YN was a director of), his management (discussing newest album), his bandmates (talking over new tour dates). All of that after having begged YN for moving in with him in LA, due to worldwide quarantine.

“You know it’s an orchid?” She asked after some time.

“Sure.”

“And the one we bought together was a crassula.”

“You threw away our Farquad?” He asked, exaggerating the hurt.

“Three months - no, wait - almost four months ago. I overwatered it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It’s not even the funniest part,” YN started to sound sarcastic. “I then bought a totally different plant that Doger knocked over and ate. Then another one that I - how it turned out - am allergic to. This one is the fourth plant here. I bought it two weeks ago. Isn’t it hilarious?”

“You’re being sarcastic. And I don’t even know what for, YN.” Harry reached for his book, attempting to restart the chapter.

YN was very much surprised by how quickly and drastically the person she loved could change. One talkative person who wanted to discuss the slightest and smallest problem with his partner was not here. One caring person, who was hurt whenever his loved one was, felt absent. One gentle man, who looked after his partner trying to be the best for her lost the title.

“You understand it’s not about plants?”

“It sounds like it is,” he said dismissively, staring at the book.

“But it isn’t. It’s about you, about us, Harry.” She emphasised the pronoun.

“YN,” he sighed, closing the book once again. “You’re starting this pointless argument for the third time this month.”

Fifth, she thought. It was the fifth time she tried to talk it over with Harry. Perhaps, she felt, she was misreading everything. Perhaps, the neglect she felt wasn't real. She must have been exaggerating the situation. Nothing changed. He loved her as much as yesterday or two years ago. It was pointless after all.

She was waiting by the door just like she was just a kid. Waiting, having laid the table with a ‘fancy shit’ as Harry called the tableware that he’d got from his mother. It was their anniversary. YN wanted to celebrate it simply, a cosy dinner with his favourite dish, Harry’s best wine and Phil Collins playing in the background. Nothing over the top. Just them, solemnising their third year together.

He was late. Two and half hours late.

Was she mad? She should have been, but was hopeful. Always putting so much faith in him.

“What are you doing still up, love?” He asked tiptoeing into the house, five hours later.

“Happy anniversary!”

She smiled from one ear to the other, holding up the cake she had baked by herself that morning. Even though, deep down she was sad and disappointed, celebrating this milestone was more important. They’d forget about this tardiness tomorrow, only remembering what was worth it.

“Oh! Indeed, happy anniversary, babe.” His eyes not knowing where to look. He forgot.

She hated being called babe.

“Did you have dinner?”

“Yeah, I’m full.” He patted his stomach, simultaneously taking off his black trainers. “We went to this new sushi restaurant I’d talked to you about. It was amazing! The chef was so nice, giving me a tip on how to chop the spring onions correctly.” Oh, how eager he was about it.

“Exciting. So you won’t be eating any tacos I made?” She asked hopefully.

“‘M sorry, YN. I’m so tired, I'm just gonna shower and head to bed. Tomorrow’s morning I’m meeting up with Olivia to talk over the few scenes we’ve got together,” Harry said, yawning and already going up the stairs.

Harry’s and Olivia’s characters didn’t have any scenes where they would talk with each other.

“It’s not an argument. I want to kindly and calmly talk with you. When was the last time we actually discussed our relationship?”

“Is there anything to discuss? We’re fine.”

“Harry,” YN sat up straight, giving Harry a pointer that he’d better listen. “You don’t only discuss your relationship when something’s wrong. And,” she paused, pondering about the next question, “you really think we’re fine?”

“Yes!” He lifted up his voice, becoming edgy. “Day after day you’re insinuating something. Just say it fucking straight, whatever that is on your heart, lay it on me.”

If she did as he had said, would it mean the end? The confrontation was the last thing she wanted. Especially when Harry already was wired. But at the same time, when would be a better moment?

“I don’t think we’re fine. We’re growing apart,” she admitted.

“It’s your opinion.”

“Yes, it is! Thank you for noticing, Harry,” YN expressed sarcastically. “Don’t you see how much you’ve distanced yourself from this -” She pointed between them. “This relationship?”

“Distanced? I’m working, YN. I’m trying to write an album. I’m working on three films. I’m managing a relationship with you.”

“Managing?” Her voice smaller, the weight of his words landing on her.

“Of course, it’s the only fucking thing you’ve heard. Of course.” He scoffed, shaking his head.

Harry stood up from the armchair, throwing his book on an oaken coffee table. His hands brushing over his hair and then beard, he’d grown over the quarantine.

“It’s not. You’re working, Harry. I understand that. I see you writing music and preparing for your roles. I’m here. Just like you wanted me to be. How you begged me to be.” She tried staying as calm as possible. “I am here and you’re not.”

“What do you want me to do, YN? Hmm? I can’t be at the two places at the same time. I can’t give you as much attention as you crave. I can’t.” He was throwing his hands up and down, talking with them as well.

“Is it craving attention by just wishing your partner was there for you?”

“You think I’m not?”

“Stop asking stupid questions, Harry!” She broke her calmness, all her feelings finally having space to leave her body. “You’re not here. Not at home, not in this relationship.”

“I just said, I can’t give you all the attention you crave, “ he repeated.

“Love?”

“What?”

“What about love? Can you give it to me?”

“Oh, now you’re sounding ridiculous. I’m done with this conversation, YN.”

He moved swiftly over the table and rushed towards the stairs.

“I love you, Harry. Can you say it?”

He can’t, she said in her mind, observing how his shoulders tensed, halting his movements. Then, her eyes started getting teary. But she wasn’t going to cry in front of him. No. She’d wait and just like over the last two weeks, she’d wait for him to go to sleep, then she’d sit down in the downstairs bathroom and sob. Sob for minutes or hours. Shaking with all the emotions trapped inside, hurting every inch of her body.

She knew her love should have been celebrated.

“If it’s all in my head just tell me now,” she whispered, knowing he could hear her. “Tell me I’ve got it wrong somehow. Tell me that for the last five months you haven’t lied about where you were going. Tell me that you really didn’t forget about our anniversary. Tell me that she’s not the one you’re going to every day. Tell me I’m wrong. I beg you,” she whimpered.

Pathetic, she thought.

He still hadn’t moved. Maybe he was preparing his apology, or a break up discourse, where YN’s thoughts.

“YN,” Harry sighed, still not looking in her direction.

“Tell me I’m wrong.” She pressed him.

“I - I don’t know.”

“You don’t know if I’m wrong or you don’t know what to say?”

“I didn’t cheat on you.” His voice was low, like it wasn’t really his.

Many would laugh but she had never thought about it. She trusted him too much to even consider it. From day one of their relationship to this day, she’d never believed any rumour, any post on social media, any article, any fan, any ‘friend’. She believed him, she believed his ‘I love you’s, his ‘I care about you’s, his ‘you’re the love of my life’, his ‘you’re the only one for me’. No doubt there.

What she thought and worried about was him falling out of love.

And there were more and more signs it had already happened.

“I know. It never crossed my mind.”

Harry’s mood was changing constantly for the last 20 minutes. From very relaxed, to riled up, then annoyed and eventually scared. His mind was full of enigmas he couldn’t solve. Mixed emotions and feelings, messing with him.

“Then what are you accusing me of?”

“Assuming I - we - are fine.”

“YN-”

“Harry. Be genuine. If not with me, then - then just with yourself.” The least she could do was make him realise it.

“I am. I - I am genuine. I -” he gulped. “I love you.”

It was like a dagger stabbing her in the heart. The sentence, echoing in her brain, quizzical voices talking over each other, ragging on her.

Where was that man who’d throw blankets over her barbed wire? She made him her temple, her mural, her sky. Temple, she went to ask for advice, direction, forgiveness and adoration. Mural, she appreciated all over and watched being appreciated by so many. Sky, she couldn’t imagine living without, looking up to it, thanking it for its presence.

“I love you.”

But this one was full of it, full of actual love. It could say everything just by the way she expressed it, all feelings inside it. No more to add, nothing to cut. Just three words. Three sincere words.

“Please,” he begged, knowing what was awaiting him. “Can we go to sleep? We’ll talk about it tomorrow, I promise.”

Letting it slide would mean not talking about it until the moment she’d grow some confidence. She couldn’t do it. As much as it hurt her, what was coming, she needed to be strong. She needed to hear it. No matter the heartbreak.

“You’ll break that promise. Promises about coming home on time, meeting me up for lunch, going with me to that new sushi restaurant, showing me your newest idea for a song. Promises you break, one after the other since February.” She stood up, walking up to him. “Promises about missing me-”

“Stop.”

“Promises about caring about me.”

“I said stop, YN.” His voice slowly gaining power.

“Promises about loving me-”

“I said stop!” He shouted, making her flinch. “Stop it, YN! The way you feel doesn’t give you a reason to put it on me, making me feel like a monster, like the one responsible for everything.”

“But you promised all those things, not meeting them at the end.”

“So what?”

She begged her brain to play with her. He didn't just say it.

“Harry, you lied so many times that I don’t know what’s true anymore. Last month, you talked about meeting Jeff for coffee and the next day there were photos of you with Olivia all over the internet. Few days ago you mentioned the trip with Chris and Gemma, but the same day the trip is going to be, are the days Gemma is spending at her parent’s farm and Chris is visiting our house. Today you said you loved me and - and -,” she couldn’t say it.

This conversation felt like running up to the finish line of the run, you didn’t want to participate in. One that wouldn’t bring you fulfilment. One that would leave you sore all over, but mostly hurting your poor heart. One that the winner - you - would be an actual loser.

He stood silently, looking down at his white socks. He couldn’t bring himself to look in her eyes. She made him aware of his feelings. Or the lack of them. This whole conversation not only angered or annoyed him but mostly made him think. Why did he lie so many times? Why couldn’t he stop? What was he thinking then and now? When did it all start? When did he lose it? Where was he, not realising he was hurting one person he promised not to lay a finger on? Why wasn't there any guilt? If so, why couldn’t he look into her eyes?

“When was the last time you asked anything about my life? Do you remember what show I’m working on? Do you remember the date we scheduled to fly to London? Do you remember anything?” She started listing everything that was bothering her.

“I told you about that new show,” she started answering for him. “Stranger Things. I wrote that one character, a guy who loves music, is an outcast. Character that is so close to my heart. One, I’m proudest of. Do you remember talking about it? Or rather me telling you about it?”

Silence.

“What about that one conversation about going upstate to my cabin? We’re supposed to leave in three days. Or are you meeting up with Olivia to discuss scenes that you do not have together?”

Perhaps she was jealous. And perhaps, deep down, she thought about the possibility. The infidelity. She was so stunned with the love he made her used to be, trust he provided, that the concept of him being unfaithful was buried within other problems.

“I’ll pack some stuff and leave for a few days.” It was all he said, before moving upstairs, leaving her flabbergasted.

Like in a trance, all feelings leaving her body, she walked to the couch and sat down. Thoughts were swirling in her mind, making her numb. She looked across the room, finding the photo of her and Harry from their first visit at Anne’s, laughing maniacally because Gemma had said something funny. It was the first time she met his family properly (in real life, not on FaceTime), seven months into the relationship. It was crazy how now she considered them her family too. Even more than her own.

Was it all going to collapse now?

“Now, lovebirds, big smiles for the family album!” Anne shouted over Christmas music playing loudly.

The warmth coming from the fireplace behind her, and the one provided by Harry, made her cheeks feel hot. Matching sweater she had bought for her and Harry, tickling her neck, big woollen socks she got from Gemma tucking her. They were right after the big dinner, carols singing and gifts exchanging. It all felt like Christmas portrayed in movies.

“It’s an honour, you know,” Harry whispered.

“What d’you mean?” She looked up at him.

“Mum has a big album with only a few photos from each year ending up there. I think it’s the last vacant space for 2018, love.” Harry squeezed her closer to himself, cuddling her. “Now say cheese or gimme a kiss.”

“I’m not kissing you in front of your mum!” she protested with a teasing smile.

“Don’t be a prude,” he joked. “One, little kiss?”

“Nope.” She popped the ‘p’.

“Don’t make me beg.” Harry pouted, stepping on the dangerous territory. His pointing finger holding her chin, making her look at him once again.

He smirked, “you look even more beautiful today, my love.” Smirk turning into his winning smile.

“You are unbelievable,” she shook her head, slightly puckering her lips.

“Okay, that’s enough flirting!” Gemma yelled. “Mum snap a photo before you become grandma.”

They laughed in embarrassment but underneath feeling peaceful.

With a Gucci suitcase in hand, Harry appeared in a corner of her eye, almost swimming to the front door.

“I’ll be back in a few days. I - I need to think about it all. I lo - I’ll see you then, YNN.”

Just that.

The door closed, soon being followed by the sound of the engine starting and slowly withering.

She knew her love should’ve been celebrated. But he tolerated it.

And she did nothing.

She sat and watched him.

#action!universe #director!reader #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles

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gffa · 1 year

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It’s been over half a year since I did a set of STAR WARS fic recs that weren’t pairing-focused, but I have been reading fic along the way! And sometimes you want fic that’s not about ships, no matter how much you love them, sometimes you just want to read about friendships or you want to read some cool worldbuilding or you only want the plot, and Star Wars fandom has been lovely about that. Hell, sometimes you just want to cry about how much you love the Jedi and you want to share that affection with other people, through the incredible experience of telling stores about them, like they were trying so hard and they were right about so many things and they were dying for years to try to help the galaxy, and teaching about how emotional regulation is good actually, and sometimes you want to show that through the disaster trio and sometimes you want to yell about how good Mace Windu is and sometimes you want to love frog grandpa and sometimes you want to get into a fistfight to defend Luminara’s honor and sometimes you want the whole Order sitting down to a family dinner and sometimes you want fic where Anakin and Mace actually get along and so many other things! So, here’s a collection of some excellent fic that I think most people should be able to find at least something to enjoy, whether you’re looking for fun disaster lineage shenanigans or heartbreaking pain because Star Wars Is Pain or some awesome Jedi Order worldbuilding or some all too rare Mace Windu Appreciation fic, I HOPE YOU ENJOY. WHAT KIND OF FIC YOU’LL FIND HERE:

FICS THAT PUNCHED ME IN THE FACE WITH HOW GOOD THEY WERE

CANON-COMPLIANT (MOSTLY, UP TO A CERTAIN POINT, WHATEVER) DISASTER LINEAGE

JEDI CULTURE AND WORLDBUILDING AND CELEBRATION

I AM A PREQUELS ERA BITCH AND I’M MAKING THAT EVERYONE ELSE’S PROBLEM

FOR THE OBITINE SHIPPERS, OF WHICH I AM ONE

MULTIGENERATIONAL STAR WARS IS THE BEST STAR WARS

NOBODY NEEDS THEIR HEART TODAY ANYWAY

FRIENDSHIP WITH CANON ENDED, THIS COOL AU IS MY NEW BEST FRIEND NOW

FICS THAT PUNCHED ME IN THE FACE WITH HOW GOOD THEY WERE: ✦ fill pages with scribbled ink by magneticwave, obi-wan/padme & anakin & cast, 9.8k A year after the Invasion of Naboo, Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi is invited by Queen Amidala to return to Naboo and participate in a rite known as the Night of Fireflies. Things kind of snowball from there. ✦ Stars of Tatooine by Be_Right_Back, ahsoka & kanan & mace & rex & obi-wan & cast, 10.5k After the end of the world, Ahsoka more or less kidnaps a child, has to air some old grievances, and tries to find whatever peace the universe can still offer. All paths in the Force lead home, eventually. ✦ A Discussion of Choices by Peppermint_Shamrock, mace & luke, 2k Mace Windu has traveled the galaxy since the fall of the Republic, keeping out of the Empire’s sight and teaching where he can. Upon the request of a ghost of an old friend, Mace finds himself instructing Luke Skywalker, who is still reeling from the truth of Vader’s identity. CANON-COMPLIANT (MOSTLY, UP TO A CERTAIN POINT, WHATEVER) DISASTER LINEAGE: ✦ stars lean in a little closer by gigglesandfreckles, obi-wan & ahsoka, 3.9k Ahsoka is struggling with nightmares after returning from Felucia, but her pesky grandmaster won’t leave her to deal with them alone ✦ Four Walls and Two Jedi by hellowkatey, obi-wan & anakin & cast, 10k Obi-Wan and Anakin get exposed to a deadly virus and must spend two weeks in quarantine battling sickness, ghosts from the past, and worries for the future. ✦ Care, Trust, and the Force (of course) by hellowkatey, obi-wan & anakin, whump, 1.7k Anakin takes a tumble during a battle that brings about a lot of old fears. ✦ Chains Bound and Broken by PhenomenalWoman, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, 6.3k Where Anakin goes undercover and learns that being a 9 year-old slave is not the same as being a 22 year-old slave. ✦ Anakin’s Birthday by Peach_Bitters (peachybitters), obi-wan & anakin, 1.3k Anakin is about to celebrate his first birthday as a Jedi Padawan and Obi-Wan helps to make it special. Pure fluff. ✦ Not Much Has Changed, Except for Everything by hellowkatey, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon, time travel, 4.4k Anakin is angry at Obi-Wan, and the Force decides to intervene by throwing him back in time. ✦ cause a commotion (jump in the ocean) by loosingletters, anakin & ahsoka, 1.2k Ahsoka worries about finding a Master and instead finds a friend haunting the ponds in the Room of a Thousand Fountains. ✦ still much that is fair by RaineyDay, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & qui-gon & bant & tahl & cast, time travel, 21.1k Anakin Skywalker was used to following the commands of the Force in his daily life. But a lot of the time, that didn’t really mean much. Until the day the Force nudged him to catch a kid falling through the sky- and through time. ✦ unbalanced, triumphant, and trying again by katierosefun, obi-wan & anakin, 2.6k sometimes you just want to go home, wherever that may be. ✦ Haste Has No Blessing by Peach_Bitters (peachybitters), obi-wan & anakin, spanking, 3k Ten-year-old Anakin Skywalker becomes impatient with the speed of his training and defies his master’s instructions. ✦ to be better by gigglesandfreckles, obi-wan & anakin, 1.8k the Council has lost a planet, much to Anakin and Obi-Wan’s dismay. they’ve been tasked with finding it, but after nine hyperspace jumps and a painful discovery, Obi-Wan teaches his former Padawan one more lesson. ✦ And The War Never Sleeps by soft_but_gremlin, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, 1k As the war goes on, it gets harder to get any sleep. ✦ Keeper of the Force by Pandora151, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & bant & plo & vokara & cast, read the warnings, 93.9k Thirty years before the Clone Wars began, the Force selected its Keeper. Now, in the face of the intense turmoil plaguing the galaxy, the Force acts again. Anakin just wants everything to go back to how it was before, Ahsoka doesn’t completely understand what is happening but is willing to do whatever she can to help, and Obi-Wan’s past comes back to haunt him in a way he never expected. ✦ Moving by SingManyFaces, obi-wan & anakin & plo, 3k Obi-Wan’s new padawan is having difficulty learning to meditate but, together, they find a way to make it work. ✦ unthinkingly by katierosefun, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, 1.1k Ahsoka felt her entire body grow cold as she whirled around for them, opened her mouth to shout a warning— She saw Anakin tense first, saw him lift his face to the sky, and then his eyes met Ahsoka’s briefly—and then she saw him race for Obi-Wan, shove him out of the way, and— Ahsoka’s shout joined Obi-Wan’s. ✦ what they grow beyond by gigglesandfreckles, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & qui-gon, 2.7k Obi-Wan learns there is just as much learning in teaching. ✦ Deepest Rivers by TexasDreamer01, obi-wan & anakin, 1.5k “The deepest rivers flow with the least sound.” - Quintus Curtius Rufus ✦ Inactions Have Consequences by stolen_pen_name23, obi-wan & anakin & mace, 2k Losing Qui-Gon was the hardest thing Obi-Wan ever endured. He can’t bear to do it to Anakin. OR: Obi-Wan tries to keep Anakin at arm’s length. It doesn’t work. ✦ Aftercare by AdaliaK, obi-wan & anakin & quinlan, spanking, 3k When Anakin feels resentful of Obi-Wan after a punishment, “Uncle Quin” steps in and smooths things over between master & padawan. JEDI CULTURE AND WORLDBUILDING AND CELEBRATION: ✦ Festival of Light by dendral, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, 8.7k During his first year at the Jedi Temple, Anakin learns that even the Jedi celebrate holidays. ✦ Songs for Little Jedi by soft_but_gremlin, mace & jedi, ~1k The initiates are having nightmares, so Mace sings a lullaby to comfort them. ✦ Mace Windu Appreciation Week by Redminibike1, mace & obi-wan & anakin & yoda & qui-gon & ponds & cody & cast, 12.5k Set of unconnected ficlets for Mace Windu Appreciation Week, because he deserves it :) ✦ a thin thread of hope by wrennette, shaak & clones, ~1k Shaak Ti introduces some cadets to one of her favourite crafts, under the guise of training. ✦ everyone comes home by nightdotlight, anakin & mace, 1.1k Anakin laughs, drowsy with the painkillers the IV feeds into his veins, and smiles at Mace. “You’re funny,” he says. “Nobody ever says it, but— you’re funny. I like the jokes you make.” ✦ Masters and Apprentices by silveryink, obi-wan & cody & rex & cast, 1.8k “You’re overthinking this.” Rex stared at his brother. “Okay, but – consider this, what if I’m not?” Cody snorted. “Rex. We’ve had a Padawan Commander before. We’ve also worked with cadets before. We managed with Skywalker, I’m sure that the Jedi shiny will be fine.” ✦ a comedy in four acts by jesuisdeux, obi-wan & yoda & mace & dooku & cast, time travel, 17.2k This was what time-travel is: staring at the dark sockets of skulls everywhere your gaze lands on. Being haunted by ghosts long gone. The apprehension of the slow yet sure approach of the inevitable which is sending chills down your spine. ✦ when the world is on your side by loosingletters, obi-wan & anakin & feemor & cast, 1k Feemor and his Padawan meet Obi-Wan Kenobi and his Padawan. ✦ rah kat by js71, obi-wan & anakin & aayla, 1.6k “Aay’shee,” Obi-Wan murmurs into her ear, rocking her gently, like when jaieh was off on a mission she couldn’t go on, so her jaieh-raheniel would take turns having her over at their apartments. ✦ Lessons on Attachment by Siri_Kenobi12, obi-wan & anakin/padme & cast, 2.7k “Anakin once told me that a Jedi is actually encouraged to love.” She said after Obi-Wan had settled. ✦ settle down by loosingletters, yoda & jedi, 1.9k Five times Yoda cooks for somebody and one time someone cooks for him. ✦ at our gardens (during the eye of the storm) by gingerbeer, rainsoaked_benevolence (oceans_bluem), obi-wan & shaak & mace & yoda & feemor & cast, 7k Obi-Wan and his (almost full) family gathers to drink tea. ✦ in our kitchen (after the war) by gingerbeer, rainsoaked_benevolence (oceans_bluem), obi-wan & ahsoka & mace & yoda & depa & shaak & cast, 5.4k Or, (almost) all of the Jedi High Councilors (plus Ahsoka) gather to eat dinner together. ✦ with our family (after the dust has settled) by gingerbeer, rainsoaked_benevolence (oceans_bluem), obi-wan & ahsoka & yoda & mace & depa & kanan & quinlan & aayla & shaak & plo & cast, 6.2k Or, after the war ends (for real this time!), the (actually full!) Council gathers to eat mooncakes. ✦ Straw Dogs by Cymbidia, obi-wan & jedi & cast, 2.9k An old Jedi Master imparts some wisdom concerning Mercy, Balance, and the Will of the Force to young Padawan Obi-wan Kenobi and a gaggle of other younglings. It is a lesson that haunts Obi-wan for the rest of his life. I AM A PREQUELS ERA BITCH AND I’M MAKING THAT EVERYONE ELSE’S PROBLEM: ✦ netanalo by js71, cal & tapal & rex & fives, 2.4k The Senate had sent a child to see into the past. A Padawan, Ahsoka’s age, not much older. Rex’s heart pounded in his chest, climbing towards his throat, because damn the Senate, did they know how this would affect the kid, or did they just not care? ✦ what’s in a birthday (another year you live) by Ro29, luminara & barriss & gree & cast, 2.1k The Jedi view life as something precious, and Commander Gree learns he has value for the simple fact that he is alive. ✦ Direct Action by silveryink, luminara & barriss & kix & cast, 4.3k Upon investigating the health of her new battalion, Barriss discovers tumours located in all their heads. It’s a bigger problem than it appears to be. ✦ oh that dissolving light by wrennette, obi-wan/luminara, NSFW, 1.1k Luminara and Obi-Wan enjoy an evening of relaxation together during the war. ✦ I Feel Glad When You’re Glad by Harpokrates, ahsoka & plo, 1k Plo Koon considers his bright young charge. ✦ Non-Attachment and other Misconceptions by art_of_a_diffrent_color, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & plo & mace & qui-gon & cast, 3k wip Plo Koon, fresh off the planet Shili with a two and a half-year-old girl in his custody, is sent to Naboo to collect the body of Qui-Gon Jinn and assess the mental health of his former Padawan. What happens that day changes everything. ✦ Battle Heavy by phoenixyfriend, anakin & padme (past anakin/padme), 2.2k In which things are finalized, and emotions are settled. FOR THE OBITINE SHIPPERS, OF WHICH I AM ONE: ✦ atmosphere level by softredscrunchie, obi-wan/satine & qui-gon, 1k As a joke, Satine tells Obi-Wan she thinks Mandalore is flat. He doesn’t take it well. MULTIGENERATIONAL STAR WARS IS THE BEST STAR WARS: ✦ Faith in Darkness by icarus_chained, luke & grogu & din & anakin & cast, force ghosts, 11.2k Hindsight was perfect. And all nightmares came back, eventually. All nightmares came again. ✦ Paternal Relations by willowcrowned, obi-wan & anakin & luke, 1.2k “No,” Vader says, “I am your father.” Every bit of the pain, the terror, and the rage that have been flooding Luke’s senses is completely drowned out by utter confusion. What, he thinks, the fuck. Oh shit, Luke thinks, Vader is my dad’s ex-husband. ✦ Burdening Fate by Be_Right_Back, obi-wan & din, 2k There’s a wise old man standing in a field next to Din, with knowing eyes full of light. NOBODY NEEDS THEIR HEART TODAY ANYWAY: ✦ somewhere along in the bitterness by CallToMuster, obi-wan & anakin, read the warnings, 3.8k It was probably the twelfth day floating alone in space that Obi-Wan and Anakin realized no one was coming for them. ✦ infinite sadness by billowypants, obi-wan & anakin, force ghosts, ~1k You have always known what your purpose was in this world. Ever since you could think for yourself, you had somehow known that you were meant for infinite sadness. So what is unfolding in front of you right now makes no sense. ✦ this tired old elegy by grumpyhedgehogs, obi-wan & bly & jedi & clones, 2.4k In which Bly is This Close to breaking out of the chip’s control by himself and Obi-Wan shows up to give him that extra push. ✦ programed to dream by ghostwriterofthemachine, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, 1.3k The spaceship Comet-rider is the fastest, most efficient vessel in the galaxy, and is crewed by Separatist-funded pirates. Anakin Skywalker is missing. Unfortunately, these two things are connected. ✦ a trolley problem for jedi by nightdotlight, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & mace & depa & kanan, 4.1k There’s this old problem. You may have heard of it. Something about a trolley, and a person, and a lever. A choice. ✦ premonition by grumpyhedgehogs, obi-wan & anakin, 2.6k Anakin dreams of the future. (It isn’t bright.) ✦ Betrayal by Pandora151, obi-wan & anakin, read the warnings, 1.5k Obi-Wan gets to Coruscant earlier than expected after escaping from Utapau. It changes things. ✦ Together or Not at All by Pandora151, obi-wan & anakin & padme, 2.7k In the aftermath of the Battle of Geonosis, Anakin crashes, and Obi-Wan and Padmé struggle to keep him alive long enough to get him help, all while trying to face their new reality. The reality of war. FRIENDSHIP WITH CANON ENDED, THIS COOL AU IS MY NEW BEST FRIEND NOW: ✦ strip away my conscience (peel away my values) by gostaks, obi-wan & anakin & palpatine, sith!obi-wan, 1k Obi-Wan Kenobi is an onion—he has layers. Beneath those layers, growing blacker every day, is the seed of the Republic’s fall. ✦ i am his brother, and i love him well by egeria, obi-wan/satine & anakin/padme, modern au, 2.9k Anakin introduces Padmé to Obi-Wan. It goes well. Not that Anakin believes that. ✦ Tolnah kodaih kat delo anohrah'ak by loosingletters, obi-wan & anakin & jango & boba & cast, 4.2k wip The one where Shmi is Jango’s older half-sister, Obi-Wan is raising a Mandalorian Padawan and Palpatine’s plans get ruined because four-year-old Boba Fett loves his cousin. ✦ No Death, Only the Force by ExtraPenguin, anakin & mace & depa & shmi, body swap, 2.8k Anakin Skywalker is just about to to free his mother from the Tuskens when the Force rudely yanks him to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant – and into Mace Windu’s body. Mace, on the other hand, gets tossed into Anakin’s body on Tatooine.

#obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #ahsoka tano #mace windu #jedi order #fic recs #star wars fic recs

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munstysmind · 1 month

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BIRTHDAY CAKE - CHRIS EVANS

WARNING/S: Implied smut, Chris being adorable… that needs a warning, right??

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BE USED IN ANY CAPACITY

Divider by @firefly-graphics

MAIN MASTERLIST

please let me know if you would like to be added to a tag list

A loud crash comes from the kitchen, ripping you from your sleep. As soon as your brain registers its sudden return to consciousness, you groan loudly in protest and rub your eyes before reaching over to get phone from the bedside table and check the time.

It's just after ten.

You let out another groan as you stretch your entire body out before relaxing back into your boyfriend's king-sized bed.

You came back to Boston with him at the start of quarantine. Both of you were out of work with the film, and basically every other nonessential, industry being shut down so there was no real reason you had to stay in LA.

That was three months ago now and honestly, you both love living together. So much so that last week he asked you if you wanted to make it permanent. Of course, you'd said yes. The two of you had just slotted into each other's routines and quirks so seamlessly it was like you'd been living together for years. Your two-year relationship has never been stronger.

You're pulled out of your thoughts by another loud crash.

"Damn it" you hear him say, sounding extremely frustrated.

"What the hell is he doing?" you say to yourself as you get up and throw on his shirt from yesterday before heading out to see what all the commotion was about.

Pressing your lips together, you hold back a laugh as you lean against the door frame and take in the sight in front of you.

The kitchen is a complete disaster. Flour is everywhere. The floor, the counter... Chris.

Lord knows what he's trying to do.

"What happened in here?" you ask, causing him to jump and quickly try to hide what he's doing behind his back.

"I thought you were asleep" he says, brushing away the flour from the front of his shirt.

"I was"

"Fuck... I woke you up, didn't I?"

"Yeah"

"I'm sorry"

"It's OK. What are you doing?"

"Nothing"

"Then why are you trying to hide baking supplies behind you?"

"Well... it's your birthday"

"Go on"

"I'm trying to bake you a birthday cake"

"Chris...

"I don't remember it being this hard when I helped Ma as a kid"

"That's because Mama Evans is an amazing baker and did all the work while simultaneously making you think you were helping"

You make your way over to him and brush the flour he's somehow managed to get in his hair before sitting on the bench opposite him.

"You, my love, are a man of many talents but cooking and baking isn't really one of them" you tell him as you rest your arms on his shoulders and play with the hair at the back of his neck.

"I make a mean pesto egg, everyone loves them" he says, wearing the cute pout you love.

"They are an exception"

"I should have just got a box mix, I know I can't fuck that up"

"You went to all this effort just for me, you have no idea how much that means"

"We're stuck in lockdown and your family's on the other side of the country. I just... I wanted to make your day special"

"You make all my days special" you tell him quietly as a smile spreads across your face. You've never met anyone as loving as him. You don't know what you did to deserve him in your life, but you thank whatever greater power is responsible every single day that he is.

"I wanted today to be extra special. It's not every day that you turn thirty" he says with a shit eating grin that makes you roll your eyes.

"Urghhh, don't remind me"

"Hey, how to you think I feel, I'm the big four zero next year"

"I thought we were talking about me"

"We are, I was just saying"

"I can help, with the cake"

"Nope, it's your day".

"Is that so?"

"Yes"

"So does that mean I get to do whatever I want?"

"Yep"

"Then, I'm going to remove my boyfriend's shirt in the middle of the kitchen so he doesn't make a mess on the way to the bedroom".

"And why am I going to the bedroom exactly?"

"Because it's my birthday and I want my man to eat me out then rail me into the bed until I can't remember my own name"

"Well, in that case" he says with a smirk as he lifts his arms up like a child, making you laugh before grabbing the hem of his shirt and pull it over his head.

You lean forward and kiss his chest as he takes his shirt from you and blindly throws it over his shoulder into the pile of flour on the counter.

He takes your face and kisses you, hard, before sliding his hands down your back to your hips and pulling you close, your chests flush with each other.

You let out a quiet moan as he starts pressing open mouthed kisses up your neck, wrapping your legs around his waist when he sinks his teeth into your skin before tracing it with his tongue to soothe the sting.

He knows exactly what to do to make you come undone in 0.5 seconds.

"Fuck, Chris" you gasp, threading you fingers into his hair as he sucks a bruise onto your flesh. You pull his hair, bringing his face back to yours and kissing him.

He pulls away with a grin, making you whimper and follow him, trying to lock lips again.

With a chuckle he puts his hands under your thighs and lifts you off the bench, throwing yo over his shoulder.

"Chris!" you squeal as he starts heading towards the bedroom, Dodger following right behind him.

"No Bub. Trust me, you don't want to see what I'm about to do" he tells your fur baby, slapping you ass as if to prove a point, making you squeal again.

It's about to be the best birthday ever...

GENERAL TAGLIST: @aussieez @rookiemartin @babeyyemor @secretaryunpaid @pixie88 @chickensarentcheap @dhoruwolfie @themaradwrites @cali-nyc5 @darsynia @diamondoftheball @wewannasaygoodnight @sweetbunnyliddle @kingliam2019 @angelcavill66 @mis-lil-red @rcarbo1 @secretdream2 @identity2212 @fanfics-r-us-official @km-ffluv @dream-beyond-the-fantasy @ktficworld @juliaorplI78 @henry-cavs-tudor @red-write-hand @queenzee27 @kandis-mom

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans fluff #chris evans smut

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toomanyfandomsimfanvergent · 9 months

Text

Evan "Buck" Buckley x Reader

Summary: This takes place a little before the quarantine episodes (I believe season four). No major spoilers, but be warned there may be some. Firefighter!118!Reader

A/N: Please send me some requests for Evan.

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"God, how much longer is this going to last," Buck said as you both had received an email saying that it would be at least and additional two weeks until you could return to work due to a virus.

"At least we get more time with each other," you said as he continued pouting. Being at home this much was killing him.

You, not so much. You had only been back at the 118 for a week before news if the virus hit. You had been out for a few weeks after you broke your wrist after getting hit with falling debris during a fire.

Buck had finally stopped pacing around the apartment and sat next to you on the couch. Whenever he couldn't work he was absolutely miserable. Everytime he was stuck at home.

"You might want to enjoy the break, once we get back to work it's going to be hell," you remind him. If the virus is a permanent thing there will be new protocols and more emergencies caused by it.

"I guess you're right," he said under his breath and you smiled. He hated admitting that you were right.

"I can't hear you, what did you say?" You tease and Buck groans. He knows you heard him. You do this every time he has to say those dreaded words.

"I know you heard me, but you're right," he says. "there, I said it," he finishes and you let out a little laugh.

"I'm always right," you say and he laughs with you. Quarantine wouldn't be so bad as long as you had each other.

Buck sighed, anytime he needed you, you were there for him. When his leg was crushed, And he was stuck at home for what felt like all of eternity, you took a lot of time off.

You made sure he was never alone more than he had to be. And you had this way of knowing if he needed you or to be alone. He didn't understand how you did it. You just did.

"Thanks for being here with me," he said as he pulled you into a hug on the couch. You smiled into his embrace.

"Of course I'm here, I live here silly," you reply with a smile.

"No, I mean always being there for me. You do everything I could ever need and more," he says as his voice begins to crack.

"It's because I love you," you say and place a kiss on his cheek. Everything you did was for love. From running into a burning building after Buck, to staying at home a little more because he couldn't leave.

"I love you to sweetheart," he says. The comforting weight of your body in his lap was comforting. He picked you up and you gasped as he carried you up the stairs and into his bed.

"You know I hate when you do that without a warning," you say and he smiles before cuddling yo next to you on the bed.

"You know I love doing that," he says as he runs his fingers through your silky hair.

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Reblogs and comments are appreciated! Request are open!

#evan buckley x y/n #evan buckley x you #evan buckley x female reader #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #evan buck buckely #evan buckley one shot #evan buckley fanfic #evan buckley imagine #911verse #911 fox #911 #911 spoilers #911 buck #911onfox #requests are welcome #requests are open

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pandorasprongs · 9 months

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CHAPTER FOUR | come home to my heart.

'it's nice to have a friend' fic masterlist + playlist | previous chapter

PAIRING: jamie tartt x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 3.1k

SUMMARY: jamie tries to get reader to forgive him.

WARNINGS: language

A/N: hello! sorry for such a long wait, i've been on vacation. i also haven't been able to proofread huhu but hopefully the interlude prepped ya'll for this moment because a good chunk of this one is from jamie's pov! don't have much to say because i don't want to spoil much hehe but enjoy jamie's comeback!

Losing Jamie for a second time felt the exact same: like absolute shit. Except this time, you were an adult and couldn't sulk in your room all day. So for the next few weeks, — aside from said crying sessions — you've been dragging yourself to all of your lectures and powering through office hours as if nothing happened.

You already told Liv about it the morning after, and after seeing your bloated face and the fact that you had a massive hangover, she decided to withhold her 'I told you so' speech, much to your relief.

It was unraveling the exact same way as last time and the cherry on top was the fact that Jamie wasn't reaching out in any way, shape, or fucking form. No texts, calls, or anything.

Every now and then, you'd think about reaching out yourself. It was you who yelled at him that night and told him to leave, but you would shake your head every time. No, if Jamie really wanted to preserve your relationship, he would have to be the one to reach out. You got to say your piece and that's it.

And maybe you were being a little petty, taking down all your photos with him from the shelf and stuffing them in a box with all the tokens from Jamie that you couldn’t bring yourself to throw away, but at least it stopped you from nearly breaking down every time you passed your hallway.

Jamie wasn't taking it so well either, despite what you assumed.

After that night, he had this sinking feeling in him. He knew he fucked up, — ghosting you and treating you like a complete stranger at the pub in front of his teammates, — but it hurt even more hearing you shout and tell him how badly it fucked you up.

To this day, he doesn't know why he did it, really. Maybe it was the fact that he felt guilty for never talking to you after you left. Or maybe you were right; he cared too much about what his teammates thought that he ended up hurting you in the process. But no matter the reason, he ruined one of his most important relationships that night.

So what was he going to do? What he always did. Ignore it. Focus on the season, despite the fact that Richmond has been on a losing streak since the West Ham game. While Jamie might be off his game because of you, he wasn't going to acknowledge that. Just bury it and hope it disappears.

It wasn't until after the fifth match in the losing streak that he got a message from an unknown number he was forced to confront it.

Hi Jamie. I'm Liv. I'm not sure if (Y/N)'s mentioned me, but I'm one of her friends and I got your number from her phone. I was hoping to talk to you soon when you're free.

So now, he was sitting in a white office like he was waiting for some test results. It didn't help that the person sitting in front of him was in a lab coat, either.

"Sorry, I know it's weird we had to do this in an office." Liv started and Jamie straightened up in the chair. "I thought you'd want somewhere private to talk."

"Right."

"Yeah, so you're probably wondering why I wanted to talk to you. Uhm, (Y/N)'s been a little off recently. She told me about what happened, which I honestly saw from a mile away, but that's not the point." Liv sighs before continuing. "The last time this happened, back in uni, she practically quarantined herself in her room till her parents came and picked her up. She barely ate, and barely talked to anyone. It was terrible. And I can tell that she's on the way to that again."

Jamie's eyes widened, filled with guilt once again, but he said nothing.

Something about his reaction just triggered something in Liv. "Right, so I'm sorry if this sounds rude, but what the fuck are you doing, man?" The footballer moved back in his chair, but Liv wasn't dismayed. "Why haven't you called her? Or even texted or something."

"I," Jamie's completely at a loss for words. "I thought that she didn't want to talk."

"What gave you that idea?"

"She told me to leave that night so harshly, so I thought..." Jamie trails off, realizing how terrible that reasoning is after saying it out loud.

Liv is thinking the exact same thing, causing her to roll her eyes. "Come on, Jamie! You can't actually think she wants nothing to do with you now. She won't ever say it, but do you know how many times I've caught her checking your contact to see if you've sent anything? She misses you and seeing how shit you've been playing these past few matches, I think it's safe to assume that you miss her too."

Despite this woman being a complete stranger to Jamie, he's suddenly compelled to admit, "Just because she misses me doesn't mean that she wants me back in her life. And I don't think I should be, to be honest." She's better off without me.

Liv's expression finally softens and she looks down at her desk before saying, "She at least deserves an apology."

—

It had been a few days since then, which Jamie had been using to think it over. He knew Liv was right; he needed to apologize. He just didn't know how. And of course, he had to talk to the most emotional man he knew.

"Jamie! What brings you here?" Ted who, despite the team losing yet another game, greeted quite cheerfully. It almost made the football player turn right back around because he wasn't sure if he was in the mood for his coach's relentless optimism.

But he knew there wasn't anyone else he could go to, seeing as you were obviously unavailable, Keeley was way swamped with her new company, and telling his mum would be indirectly telling your parents too. He shuts the door behind him and moves to Ted's side of the office. "Right, um, I was hoping to talk to you about something."

His coach seems to pick up on Jamie's uneasy demeanor and leans forward with a sympathetic look on his face. "What's up, buttercup? Should I gather the diamond dogs for this?"

Jamie, recalling the name that the coaches and Higgins called themselves, was quick to reject the idea. "No, no, I'd rather not have them find out about this. Uhm, look, I know I haven't been doing my best recently,—"

"Oh, we'll get a win soon bud, don't worry." Ted is quick to reassure the player and while Jamie appreciates it, he shakes his head.

"No, I know, but that's not it." Jamie takes a deep breath before continuing. "It's just, I've been a bit distracted recently."

"Is this about a girl perhaps?"

"No," though Jamie thinks about it for a second. “Yes, but no?" Seeing the slight look of confusion on his coach's face, he explains, "A while back, I reconnected with an old friend. She was my best friend actually, back in Manchester. We didn't exactly end on the best of terms and it was my fault. But when we met again, she told me that I didn't need to apologize."

Jamie continued to recount the past few months to his coach, from his blind date to the Bones & Honey incident, along with what he did to you in the pub all those years ago.

"So now, I don't know what to do. Her best friend said I should apologize, but I don't really know how. I'm not really the best with these types of things." Both of them still remembered how long it took for Jamie to get the team to forgive him when he first came back.

Ted takes a second before responding, trying to figure out the best thing to say in this situation. "You know Jamie, I've always thought the simplest ways are sometimes the best ones. Overthinking things tends to complicate them more. You want to apologize right? How'd you used to do it when you were kids and you threw your little tantrums at each other?"

"Coach, I don't think bringing her chocolate is gonna work this time around." Jamie gets flashbacks to your first-ever argument as kids. Jamie accidentally ate the last slice of chocolate cake that you had unofficially saved and you stormed out and locked yourself in your room for an hour.

All it took was Jamie sliding a bar of chocolate through the bottom of the door, explaining that he got hungry, and promising to save her a slice of cake the next time they had a party. You ended up sharing the bar with Jamie.

"Probably not. But in all the times you fought, what were the things that got her to forgive you? What did you say that made her understand your side and know that you actually were sorry for what you did? And how did you prove to her that you weren't going to do that to her again?" Maybe if Jamie thought about this advice later tonight, it'll make more sense, but right now, only one question was occupying his mind.

"D'you think she'll forgive me?" He thinks out loud.

"I honestly don't know Jamie, I don't even know who she is. But if you show her how much you care like how you're showing me right now, I'm sure things will be fine." Ted, now standing, offers a comforting pat on the back.

Without looking up, Jamie whispers, "I never meant to do this to her. To hurt her like that."

"We rarely ever mean to hurt the people we love." Ted offers.

Love. Yeah, Jamie thought, he did love you, even after all these years. Especially after all these years. What, with all the 'absence makes the heart grow fonder' bullshit.

"All we can do after is try to atone for our mistakes and hope they forgive us. And even if they don't, at least you leave knowing you tried." Jamie nods his head and thanks his coach for the advice.

As he got into his car to leave the clubhouse, he pulled out his phone. Hi, are you free tonight? I was hoping we could talk.

He anxiously waited for your reply and started listing all the places he had to pass by before heading to your place if you even answered. But before Jamie even left the car park, you already replied, Sure.

—

Maybe you had been hoping for Jamie's message more than you thought. You were in the middle of the lecture when you got his message, so while your class passed the handouts around, you took the chance to grab your phone and reply.

So now, you were anxiously waiting in your flat, still unsure of how you were meant to feel about all this. You knew there was still anger there, but you weren't sure if exploding on him relieved that feeling or made it worse. A part of you also felt guilty for it too, for not even giving him a chance to apologize in the first place. Maybe instead of awkwardly letting him inside later, you would've been having yet another movie night together.

That's what he was going to do now right? Apologize? You didn't really press on for my details when he messaged you earlier. You just hoped that seeing him again will trigger the right response to whatever he had planned.

You heard the doorbell ring and suddenly, it felt like your heartbeat quickened. You take careful steps towards the door and after mentally preparing yourself for whatever this was going to be, turn the doorknob.

"Hi," Jamie greeted, in the most awkward way possible for a guy as confident as he could. You notice him holding a box of LEGO flowers under his left arm and a pack of chocolate nuggets in his right hand.

In an attempt to lighten the mood, you jokingly ask, "Is your apology just going to be flowers and chocolate?" though it may have come across as harsher than you intended.

"No, but uh, in case you changed your mind about talking to me when you saw me, I thought this would at least get me through the door," Jamie explained and you slowly nodded your head.

"Well, you were right." You take the things from his hand and let him inside.

You had already cleaned up the place before he came over and hidden all the messy catalogs and test papers in your room for the time being. Its current condition could honestly pass as one of those display sets in department stores.

You placed the items on your dining table before turning back to Jamie who was awkwardly standing in the middle of the living room.

You didn't want to delay this any further. "So, why'd you want to talk?"

"Right," Jamie started, still unable to look you in the eye. "I wanted to say sorry for not messaging you these past few weeks. I've just been busy and Richmond's been on a losing streak too,—"

"Is that really all you wanted to say?" Your tone was soft, but even you knew you were being blunt. You just couldn't handle the sinking feeling of anxiety in your chest anymore and while you might be rushing him, you just wanted to get this over with.

"No, it's not." Jamie closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He moves towards you and starts looking at you intently. "I'm sorry. For everything. You deserved an apology and an explanation a long time ago and I can't go back in time, so I want to do it now."

He pauses for a moment, and when you realize he's waiting for you to say something, you respond, "Go ahead, Jamie."

He nods his head and almost looks like he's psyching himself up before a match. He takes another deep breath before continuing.

"I wanted to start from when I started to get distant. I never told you, but after I started at Man City, dad came back into the picture."

"He did?" Your voice was barely a whisper, and you're unsure if he even heard it because he keeps talking.

"You know how he is, right?" Of course, you did.

Growing up, you knew the exact times his dad would be coming over. There’d be some beat up car in their driveway and if you looked out your window, Jamie’s window blinds would be down. During the early years, you’d ask your mom to call their house, but after the first time and about a ten-minute call with Georgie, she started telling you they were busy. It was only after that outlying car in their driveway disappeared that Jamie would come knocking at your door, asking to play. He'd have this air of discomfort the first few days, but you were so happy being able to see him again that you’d end up ignoring it.

"Anyway, he was on my arse that whole time. He always had something to say after every match about how I fucked up or, how shit I'd been. Even if I was just sitting on the bench, he still had something to say. It was exhausting," You could tell that Jamie was starting to get angry at the reminder of his father, and without thinking, you reach out to hold his hand. Jamie seems to relax at your touch and when he seems to have composed himself, you let go.

"He would go on about the same things. Don't be soft, it's the fucking Premier League and shit like that. I just, I wanted it to stop. And I thought that toughening up would stop him from him getting under my skin. That meant removing everything that did make me soft, vulnerable. One of those things was you, but I realized now that it was in a good way. As in, I only ever felt comfortable and safe when I was with you." Your eyes widened at his confession and you felt tears threatening to fall.

"But fuck, Dad was really in my head back then. I thought that you were making me weak. And I hated the thought of him calling me that. So I stopped picking up your calls and messages. I just blocked you out.

"But when I started to realize I was becoming a prick, I thought you'd never want to talk to me again. That you'd hate me and it wasn't worth trying to get you to forgive me. Plus, Mum always had great stories about you, so I thought you were better off without me. I guess that's why I was such a prick back in the pub, pretending I didn’t know you. Might as well lean into it if I already lost you." At this point, you were resisting the urge to envelop Jamie in a hug and never let go, but you knew he wanted to finish his piece.

"And I know that it doesn't change the fact that it was a shitty way to treat someone I loved, but it's the best explanation I can give you. I really am sorry." Jamie held your eyes, emphasizing how genuine he was being. Someone I loved, did he really just say that? But he starts again before you can even consider what that meant.

"And, I really am trying to be better. I want to be worthy of staying in your life, if you'll let me. This time, I promise I'll never leave you like that ever again."

You were processing his words and couldn't answer immediately, so Jamie added, "And if you decide that you don't want anything to do with me, then you'll never have to see me again. But I promise to keep trying to be better even then."

You continued to stay silent and Jamie took that as your answer. "Right, so that's all I had to say, so I'll be out of—"

You wrap your arms around him, stopping him mid-sentence. The footballer is slow to reciprocate it, but when he does, you're transported back in time. It feels like you're eight again, and Jamie's football team just won the finals. It feels like you're fifteen again, and you've made up during a midnight run to the grocery after a stupid argument. It feels like you're seventeen again, saying goodbye to the only boy you've ever loved.

"I don't know if I'm ready to forgive you yet, Jamie. To go back to how it was before." You finally answer, and if you're being honest, you don't think you ever could go back. "But I want to be able to," you whisper and you feel him relax even more in your arms. "Just, don't fuck it up and leave again. Because I'd really love to have you in my life again."

"I promise I won't." And this time, you believe him.

A/N: and there you go! the angst is over! (or is it? muahaha) some cameos from liv and ted to help snap jamie out of it :) i had written jamie's apology monologue the same time i wrote reader's angry monologue from chapter three with some slight revisions when i put them in their respective chapters, so hopefully it matches up well stay tuned for the next chapter!!

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